Know Who You Are At Every Age
Cool Girl or Bust!
Listen to ‘Know Who You Are At Every Age’ by Cocteau Twins while reading.
A friend recently asked me with unrestricted sincerity, “How do you maintain your cool girl image?”
I thought to myself— you think I’m cool?
Then— that’s a thing someone should maintain?
I am certain I blurted something along the lines of, “I don’t sit around thinking about it,” out so suddenly she regarded her assumption never crossed my mind.
Though it has. Not the belief in an upkeep coolness, but the awareness of presumptions.
How much of who you are is influenced by how others perceive you? How reliable is the narrative of your life?
Campbell and Kramer (@campbellandkramer) — Lace Top
Charlie Beads (@charlie.beads) — Terry Bloomers
Vintage Anne Klein Coat
To write is to uncover your personal truths.
As the new year rolls on, I find my mind is scattered and distracted to the point where to write is to feel stifled; as if an invisible hand has atrophied.
With the holidays and self-enforced capitulation to Hinge for a semblance of a love life— what am I really doing with my life?
I have to remind myself of this— to write is to open a door in the mind to the power of narratives. We tell ourselves stories in order to make sense of us and the world around. (Thank you, Ms. Didion.)
Since Ok, So’s inception last May— the burner knob has cranked left, the bubbling pot of yet to be acknowledged truths and revelations has spilled over onto the linoleum floor.
What am I left with? Pools of clarity and scattered perceptions to mop up with a rag.
There is the narrative of your life and there is what others have told you.
The narrative of my life prior to writing was despite my friend’s actions contradicting her words, she had a good heart at the end of the day.
The reality is an elephant has a good heart too.
The narrative in her narrative of my faults as a human held against me constantly, paraded in front of others to prop her virtues against my sins. A form of repentance for my past actions I suppose. A self-serving narrative of angel vs. bitch. I was the ladder naturally.
Where does your narrative coalesce with another’s? Can you catch yourself from the edge of belief to fall back into reality?
Camber — Heavyweight Hoodie
Haight — Backless Dress
Barcelona designer, Talina (@_talina______) — Baoulé earrings
I spent Thanksgiving with my family for one week straight in the middle of the Arizona desert.
The last time I saw them was March of 2024 for my father’s birthday. Now it was November of 2024 for Thanksgiving.
The months in between I was under the influence of writing. The post-high psychedelic paradigm shift one experiences and can never come back from.
Leset (@leset) — Pointelle Dress
Sezane (@sezane) — Scarf & Cardigan
Has my family always been this way?
Every family has their dysfunctions. And my family’s faults were admitted, but the severity to which has grazed over my head all these years? Was I willfully blind?
I never back down from an argument because my family does this too?
Culturally my lineage does not prioritize boundaries and compartmentalization— we are a fluid, unruly bunch. An organized and neat home like some of my friends was foreign to me.
Undealt with trauma manifested in children and housed within four walls.
Should I be so harsh on them? Am I a “nitpicker” as my father says?
I must give him such as I know I am. But when you grow up around a feral family and have a boundless childhood with guidance in the form of admonishments and critiques, you learn to call out bullshit where you see fit.
Which is it? Denial or delusion about my past?
I have carved out this narrative of an independent Michelle who lives in New York City away from her small town family and their small town minds. An Aquarius middle child— the alienation, outsider, black sheep trope is even further exacerbated. This self-made persona and Cool Girl image at odds from my family. I was not like them at all I have said for the most part of my life.
Spend a week straight with family in the desert and you will come to find it is like a mirror reflected back to you by every person you know. As if they hold one in their back pocket and every so often pull out to remind you of where you came from.
Where do you come from? Who are you today?
Emily Dawn Long (@emilydawnlong) — Jeff’s Shirt
Varsity LA (@varsitylosangeles) — Vintage Eagle USA Sweatpants
Saks Potts (@sakspotts) — Croco Bag
The Myth of The Cool Girl Image
Emma Rothkopf (@emma_rothkopf) — Henley Tee
The Fringes (@thefringes) — Nylon Track Pant
Gemsun (@gemsun_now) — Korb Bag / second look:
Damson Madder — Pointelle Tank
Nananita — Rose Crochet Bag (@nananita)
I am of the mindset that once you play into superficial labels, you become this self-conscious performative actor meta miming your life in front of an audience.
Youth and coolness are currencies New York City will never trade. So I understand it is stock a lot of people desire. It is not worthy of the chase or belief in fulfillment as that would negate the essence of what it is.
This unsettled, read between the lines pressure for cultural relevancy this city instills particularly with those in fashion feed into ‘The Cool Girl’ image and notion it is something to maintain.
When it is not. It cannot.
For it to matter above the pop culture label is to go out there and live life not giving a damn.
I know there is this perception I am a cool girl and “have always been.” Perhaps I should not bite the hand that feeds as I know I have gained opportunities from this image I unknowingly play into. (i.e. brands who send free clothes for exposure and association)
‘Cool Girl or Bust!’ feels like a game we can voluntarily opt out of if we question long believed narratives we and others tell. Follow what leads you there.
My birthday is approaching at the end of the month, I will be upstate in a cabin writing to mimic some form of adoration for writers who have come before.
Ready to walk away with my own chips.
You can also find me on Instagram— @michellephanh
What size did u get the Emily dawn shirt?