My Louis and Me

For the most part, this blog does not focus on fashion. I appreciate good style but by no means am I a “fashionista.” I’m more excited about finding the perfect throw for our apartment than finding the perfect graphic black & white ensemble for spring. (In fact, I just looked up current fashion trends on InStyle.com, to confirm that B&W is in.)

That being said, I like to think I have good taste. My mother says I dress like my late Grandmother Elly. I take that as a compliment, even though my mom really does think I dress like a grandma. Long gone are my college days of wearing barely there spandex halter tops. Now I dress strictly for comfort, with the occasional (i.e. when attending a wedding) night out teetering on stilettos. But whereas in the past dressing for nights out meant trying really hard, these days I just aim to look put-together. Sometimes that means I dress in head to toe preppy; on other occasions I look more bohemian. And most days I just wear jeans and a tee or long-sleeved variation. (Really it just depends on which items of clothing are currently clean.)

My coworkers sum up my style as Californian, which I take to mean no-frills. I mix high-end items with cheaper pieces. Occasionally I’ll wear a statement accessory or a couple of delicate necklaces, but I’m not big on big-time accessorizing. I believe in investing in a few key items I’ll have forever, for example a Vince leather jacket I’ve had for over ten years, a handful of fancy blouses my friends must be so sick of seeing me in throughout the past decade and designer handbags.

Enter: Louis. But first, there was Coach. And then Kate Spade. And Prada. And now, Louis Vuitton. Throughout my late teenage years and early adulthood, I’ve taken to brand-name handbags and totes. The right ones never go out of style. And they dress up any jeans and t-shirt ensemble.

Recently I had an internal conflict regarding my Louis Vuitton “Neverfull” bag. The LV Neverfull is a really expensive handbag I bought a few years back, when I was in a more lucrative but less fulfilling job. I had recently been promoted. And I wanted to upgrade from my fading brown woven leather Banana Republic “work bag” which mimicked the Bottega Veneta style. I wanted a real-deal classic designer tote for both business and pleasure. And I gave myself that gift.

Then, my circumstances changed. I went from magazine marketer to fashion house social media manager to SAHG to yoga instructor and yoga advisor. And here’s the rub. Yogis don’t carry LV carryalls. Yogis don’t advertise brand name monograms or signature prints. It’s an unspoken rule. My fellow yoga professionals all tote around no-name leather satchels and the like. And I had wanted to fit in. So during my yoga teacher training and throughout my first months working as a yoga advisor I left the LV at home. I didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention. I didn’t want to be that girl.

Then recently, it hit me. Who cares? Anyone – especially a fellow yogi – who judges me for sporting an LV bag has her own bag of problems. Yoga is all about non-judgment, until it comes to investing in designer fashion accessories it seems. Well I’m here to break the mold. There should be no mold. And if there is, I’m fine not fitting into it.