Why is it that as the days, months and years metamorph us from child to adult, we seem to slip into a specific mould that is apparently set for us? We follow what society encourages us to believe is ‘normal’, but who’s setting the standards, and more importantly, why do we even care? When we’re children we skip, run and hop to get from one destination to the next. It’s fun, liberating and innocent. Growing up is a concept we can’t grasp and don’t need to. Yet the moment we enter adulthood our carefree qualities which once defined us tend to disintegrate. We begin following ‘the rules’ and freaking out about our next birthday. 

I want to know at what point we stop skipping and start walking. And similarly, when do we stop playing and start working? Don’t get me wrong… I have a 9-5 job, pay my bills and take my responsibilities seriously. I don’t dodge reality. But I’m referring to all the moments in between. Getting out of bed early each day simply to have fun and play (in whichever form that may come) before setting off for work. Skipping to pick up our morning coffee instead of strolling. Singing freely without worrying about what others are thinking. It’s not that I want to come across as juvenile…both self awareness and social understanding are important to me. But I don’t want to be influenced by the expectations of convention that come with age. In other words – I want to be myself without judgement.

Last year I turned 30. I’m not really sure what that means in terms of where I ‘should’ be in my life, and by no means have those years made old or wise. But they have taught me this: the greatest thing you can be in life is kind, the most rewarding thing you can be is creative and good style is never overrated. The point of it all is that there really is no point. So just enjoy. Greet the world with optimistic positivity, be open and live life youthfully with confident nonchalance. Naïve? Maybe. But please – rather that than boring. 

“I once heard someone say, “I shall die very young. How young? I don’t know. Maybe seventy, maybe eighty, maybe ninety. But I shall be very young.” ― Diana Vreeland

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