At 8am on the first Tuesday of my university career, I swore i would never do it.

The oath had something to do with the pretentious man who was my illustration professor scoffing at the fact that I had never been. Shiny eyed and straight from Alberta I didn't know the first thing about the industry. If you asked me to make a list of designers I wouldn't be able to fill half a page. He told me if I wanted to make it in fashion i needed to know what was going on. My assignment; go to Holt Renfrew. I was furious. And idealistic. I refused to succumb to the pull of overpriced fashion. I did not believe that a department store filled with two hundred dollar t-shirts and two thousand dollar bags was anything but part of the problem in our consumer driven world....I wanted to prove that i could be successful without playing the game.

Over the past three years this turned into a kind of pretension in its own right. When others spoke of Holtz i turned my nose to the air. While in lectures, when the other girls were on their Macbooks browsing lookbook and style.com I was...well....napping. But one can only overt their gaze for so long. This year i began to crack; I too have a folder in my bookmarks dedicated fashion sites, blogs, and forums. exchanging my Addbusters for Vogue I began to attend fashion shows and other events. To my surprise I actually know people in the crowd, with the press, and sometimes on the runway....

Two weeks ago I finally did it. The last step before casting the sheet from my eyes and entering the world of higher fashion. I went to Holt Renfrew. It was amazing. I never knew shopping could be such a beautiful thing. Not that I shopped. Who can afford to? But I fantasized. Fantasised over four hundred dollar lingerie and four thousand dollar Gucci blazers. Fantasised about the day when I would have my own corner on the fourth floor. My name stenciled on the walls in fuchsia. The freedom to use quality fabric, intricate design details, and the fan base to purchase my wares. As I took the escalator up I felt my social stature rise with it....well until i left empty handed and headed for the Goodwill down the street.

...so what does this mean? Does it mean iv left my angst ridden years behind? Do I leave my green hair, doc martens, and bullet belt at the door? I don't think so....well I hope not. Right now their holding on by a thread. I'm trying to find a place where the two converge. I still refuse to play the game, I will not bite the lure of fast fashion and trash consumer culture. But I also except the high price tag of designer clothing. It's worth it. How do we convince society to spend three hundred dollars on one dress that they'll have forever instead of thirty dollars on one that will be out of style in a month? And where do i fit into all of this?

Love forever,
Jamie