My Answer to Your Question

Being in your mid twenties means one question suddenly needs an answer.

1. When are you getting married?

Once a week I am asked about when I intend to marry. I find this comical, as according to me this usually involves two people, not just an executive decision to go get hitched. Asking me when I'm getting married has become like the habitual texts from my mother about when I'm getting my flu shot. The answer to both is the same: When I get around to it, but may I tell you about my flourishing career?

I've always been harboring a feminist fugitive in my soul. My last name means something to me. The place in the fashion industry I have begun carving out for myself carries my maiden name, the last name I'm known by and has even prompted by nickname, KB. My father grew up in the projects of Manhattan and has since made a name for himself in the construction industry. Men never have to worry about the idea of a name change-- for better or worse--the name you have is the one you curate for the rest of your life. For women, it is the debate between us and the elephant in the room. Both genders are told to "make a name for themselves" and both are fully capable. But what happens when one gender is expected to change that name in their professional prime? I don't have the answer, but it is a topic that interests me.

When I was asked the other day about my plans for walking down the aisle, I replied quite bluntly. I have too many things do and accomplish being KB, before I even think about becoming somebody else.  Perhaps I come across as selfish in saying this, but I'd rather be honest than pretend that making my family name into something infamous doesn't mean anything to me at all. Quite honestly- it means everything.

I have been blessed to be surrounded by strong and inspirational women. The conversations my close friends and I have make me truly secure in believing we are the future chiefs of this great country. There is a generation of women emerging that have such great intellect, that when paired with our millennial momentum, we are quite unstoppable. This is what makes me get out of bed every morning. The notion that I am forging a future that I was told three years ago would never happen. 

One day I do fancy the idea of sharing my life with someone else and one day I will most likely share his last name. But now? Now I'm creating myself. Now I'm scribbling notes on napkins and spending mornings in coffee shops. Now I'm hosting wine festivals where we talk about the world and watch documentaries. That's my now. 

If there is one thing I will preach about is that we all need to do what makes each of us happy. I am trying to live this day by day. If that's getting married, I will be at your wedding sending all my love and well wishes. If that's traveling the world, I expect post cards from every city you conquer. And if that's starting a novel in a coffee shop, then I think I will be drinking an unhealthy amount of espresso. 

Let us stop comparing and start creating. 
You want to get married? You go girl. You don't? You go girl. 

For me, my marital status has nothing to do with my level of individual success. My marital status will do this and this alone; it will tell the world that I love another person enough to walk in stride with them for the rest of my life. Everyone sees success in a different pantone. There is no right paint chip. For my friends who have found that person, I applaud you. For my friends still searching--put down the treasure map and let yourself be the X. The world is at our feet, truly ours for the taking-- reach out and grab it. The world around us was created and reinvented by the same people you see at the grocery store. It's not rocket science, it's called never giving up.

Take your name, whether maiden or married, and make something of it.  Single, married, widowed, divorce...there is no check this box on a job application.  Whatever we do in this life, we must ensure that we retain our personal goals. Because at the end of this runway, I've been told there's a moment where you ask yourself what you did. For me... my dream is for KB to mean something more than just a childhood toy store.

So to answer the question that I get asked so frequently (once & for all)...
 I will get married when I am asked by a great man who doesn't mind having a writer for a wife. 
Lord help him.




The Climber

In the midst of hardship, I have always found great comfort in my K coffee cup and a blinking cursor to encourage my newest musings. A good friend of mine during lunch today suggested I get back to the basics. Back to the quite literal, A-B-C's of my life.

They say that your life will never end up quite like you had planned. What they neglect to say is that in a mere matter of months...everything will change. Within months of unforgiving editing, you will be presented with the greatest obstacle. It is not fear, it is not love, it is not sadness. It is oneself. It is the mountain that illustrates everything you will become and does not attempt to hide any unsavory reality.

According to ole faithful (google), a mountain is a large natural elevation of the earth's surface rising abruptly from the surrounding level.

According to me, a mountain is a vertical journey from which you may only enjoy the sun's warmth from the top. Until you reach the top, you will remain in the cold, damp shadows of those who have tried to accomplish great things and have fallen along the way.

While I have the utmost respect for google, I must admit I prefer my definition. Yet nowhere in either one does it mention mountains being movable earthly masses. They are permanent road blockers that stand erect without mercy. They are the natural pillars that suggest there is something untapped in each of us, a potential so easily forgotten that we simply learn to live in the dark. And it is with this idea that I had a conversation with a dear friend. My friend suggested that we are a generation that can move mountains. Ever since hearing this, and in addition to my current perspective, I  have found myself wishing I was strong enough to move them all out of my way. Every mountain pushed off to the side. Imagine how easy life would become if with every obstacle you had an option, push this out of your way and never fail, or acknowledge the unapologetic mountain that dares you to climb.

On this southern September evening in the early days of fall, I want to write and put pen to paper that you will see me climb. Along the way I will bleed, I will fall, and most certainly, I will think about giving up at least once every day. But I am done moving mountains. Now...I want to open my mind and maybe yours to a new idea. Let's stop moving mountains and put on a harness.

In the midst of hardship we learn more about ourselves than any other day in paradise. 

And today? 

I've learned I'm not a mover... I'm a climber.




Raw & Rare

"...and she's been living on the highest shelf..."
-Vance Joy's Riptide

Everyone right now is loving the Avicii song, "Wake Me Up." I've joined the fan club, and have to admit that during my in house impromptu dance parties- it's been playing on repeat, with a pop of Vance Joy. Every word they sing speaks to this exact moment in my life, a point where the page is scribbles and completely nonsensical.  The Fall season doesn't offer us mere mortals sneak previews- only opening nights. Yet another thing I seemed to have forgotten about. Life fail.

Lately I've been told that this is the best part of my life. But I'm still trying to understand what is so enjoyable about being at an age where I have to learn how to cook. My metabolism has completely bailed on me and I am now faced with the reality that becoming a grown up, at least a real one, actually started yesterday and doesn't involve Chipotle. Because while I love being a twenty something... I really hate cooking.

I've been thinking a lot recently about how this "best part of my life" is my story. I think that's why subconsciously I keep this blog going. So my fellow twenty somethings have something to read that isn't a BuzzFeed article, and maybe something they can relate to. Being a twenty something is hard and exhausting. But it is making for one great story, and everyone is born a natural story teller. It's just hard sometimes to find the right words.

People say it's important to have a great "how he proposed" story, because you're going to be reciting that sonnet the rest of your life. However, I beg to differ. I would argue it's all in how you tell it. I can make a story about my job just as interesting. After all, man's innate talent since the beginning of time has been story telling. Every conversation is a chapter, a paragraph, or if you're me a gif, that you will then go on and express to the next person. We connect through communication. It's basic and something I could never survive without. When me and my girlfriends have a wine and sushi night, or an evening parading down the city streets in stilettos- we are story telling the past week, sharing and editing for the next time we go around and recite the goings on in our lives.

What happens to us is only half of what happens. 

The memory, the piece we take away is in how we remember it and then share it.

I guess that's why music has been so vital to me, offering me a stable lifeline when there are no words of my own to say. Why else do you think us girls have dance parties in tiny city living rooms?
Being a twenty something young professional is like being a living and breathing science project that God is entering into a contest. This makes me nervous due to the fact that as a child I only ever received honorable mention. Stupid science fair.

I just want to be cool like Lana Del Ray. There I said it.

Something we can learn from the artists is that when we're done speaking, we need to act. When letters fail to form words, that's my favorite moment to look at what that person does next. The body tells the best story I have ever heard. The universal human experience of emotion, success, failure, and perseverance. Oh, and going to work even on the days you don't want to.

Usually when I get a new book, I go straight to the end and read the last chapter. My impatient nature and need to be in control make it nearly impossible to just sit back and wait.  But I'm ready to commit to something new. I'm ready to have a blank page and see what words appear.

After all, the Fall season has only just begun. Who knows what's in store once the leaves start to fall.