Let me preface this post with the following notion: As a freelance writer, I work from home. With that said, I wear my PJs to “the office.” I often find myself typing over a hot keyboard in my jammies well past lunchtime with an unwashed face and unbrushed hair. I know, so not a good look, but this is the reality that is my life.
I repeatedly dream (“dream” being the operative word) of working from Condé Nast’s New York offices and engaging in water cooler banter with my well-dressed colleagues. We chitchat about Kim K. and Kanye, Amanda Bynes’ terrible mugshot (that preposterous pale pink hair!) and the importance of a great cobbler.
In my imaginary-Wordy-Girl-world, said corner office is replete with Jonathan Adler knickknacks, artefacto furniture, living white orchids and original artworks by Matisse. I know, so over-the-top. Don’t judge. So here’s an outfit I would proudly wear to my nonexistent job at Vogue — a mix of high and low, classic with a little edge — my specialty, so to speak. Do you think Anna Wintour would approve?
Photos by Vas Andy