Something All My Own

Do you ever desperately feel like you want to start something or create something so that you can look at it and say “Yes, this is a result of my own ideas and it is unique to me. I made this and no one can take that accomplishment from me?” Whether it’s a painting or a business, a book or some new fangled tenchnologic creation that will change the world?

While I may not be changing the world – yet at least – something I know I’ve always wanted to do is start my own business. When I was 10 I wanted to run a day care, when I was 13 I wanted to open a bakery, when I was 16 all I could think about was clothes, and now I have so many ideas I can’t think straight. Being an advertising major – and an avid Mad Men viewer – I would love to start my own advertising agency. Think of it, you walk in – fresh off the train with a bagel in your and and the most incredible, kick ass pair of shoes on your feet – and you get to create. Just think things out of pure air and put things onto paper and voila- an instant sensation! I know, I know, there’s so much more than that – copy and design, research and the customer – but just the idea that  you are being paid to think of creative ways to catch people’s attention and say “Hey, look at what a fabulous product/company/person/idea I am.” well my goodness. It’s overwhelming, the thought of putting something out in the world that is your own creation and hoping – knowing – that thousands of people could be watching/viewing/reading it at any given moment. That very nearly takes my breath away.

Have you, whoever you are, ever been in awe of the fact that someone, somewhere is thinking about you even though you’re not there with them? That’s what advertising is like to me. The idea that my creation, even when I’m not looking at it, could be viewed, enjoyed (Or hated, let’s be honest) by people I have never even met, will never meet, and don’t even know exist is so incredible I can’t even begin to imagine it’s scope. Models and actors must look at commercials or photos of them and say ‘Wow, that’s me, I’m on a bus.” I don’t want my face plastered across billboards and television screens, I want to share my ideas with the world and see the reaction I’ve created. I want to help influence the way others view things and think “You’re welcome America, I’m so glad I helped you pick Vogue.” (P.S. Vogue, if you ever read this I’d love very much to help America pick you, though you seem to have it down to a science.)

I guess in a way, through advertising, that’s how I could help change the world.

And one day when I’m rich, living in a converted warehouse with an indoor pool and bowling alley, with millions of followers, a ridiculous amount of animals and the closet I can only dream of maybe my posts will help change the world. But let’s take it one day at a time, yeah?



In need of change but unable to find it where I wanted, I decided that I would change one thing I could always control – the way I look. So, I chopped off all my hair and now look at my options with new lightheadedness. Let’s see what happens, shall we?