v.35 What Fashion Taught Me About Surviving America Right Now
Welcome to Life, Created—a new [old school] blog for modern times. This twice-a-week(ish) dispatch is a space for us to dig deeper, share ideas, recognize microjoys and build community beyond the mindless scroll.
In a world that feels like it’s spinning off its fucking axis—socially, politically, environmentally—one thing that helps keep me grounded is this simple truth: trends always swing before they settle.
I first learned this as a 19-year old student studying the business of fashion—back when I thought trend forecasting was a legitimate superpower and that I’d die on the hill of low-rise jeans (Thankfully, I did not). But over time, that lesson turned into a metaphor I now apply to just about everything. Back then, it was about how super-wide-leg jeans eventually gave way to skin-tight skinny jeans, and then landed somewhere in the middle with a high-rise straight fit. These days, it reminds me that chaos doesn’t last forever—and balance always finds its way back.
This metaphor is more than just a reflection on pants. (Though after a 17-year career in fashion, I often relate to the world through that lens—so there’s that.) But really, this is a pattern we’ve seen over and over again. The tight conservatism of the 1950s gave way to the rebellion of the ’60s. Then came the ’80s, where everyone looked like they were trying to sell you a timeshare in Miami, followed by the ’90s, where we all collectively decided that flannel and angst were a whole ass personality. Sarcasm aside, these shifts don’t just live in fashion—they show up in politics, relationships, beliefs. Things stretch too far, and eventually, they swing back toward something that feels more sustainable. Something that feels more human.
A photo I took in D.C. at the Women’s March in 2017
Civil rights. Feminism. LGBTQ+ rights. None of these movements have followed a straight line. They’ve experienced fierce resistance and profound progress—often at the same time. But here’s what is important to remember: they’ve endured. They’ve been challenged, diminished, rewritten—but never erased. Because what’s true and necessary finds a way to continue. Even when it’s slow. Even when the steps forward are met with a heavy push back.
And really: we’re in this right now. Freedoms are being stripped. Books are banned. Histories are erased. Entire communities—especially the ones that have always been pushed to the margins—are being treated like they’re disposable. It’s not a metaphor. It’s happening. And while I’m not on the frontlines of social justice work, I am a Black Jewish woman living in this world, and I feel the weight of what’s happening. In my body. In my spirit. In the quiet conversations. In the tension that lives just under the surface of everyday life.
There’s that constant low-level hum of "What now?" I’m not here to offer a silver lining that doesn’t exist—but I will say this: things this out of balance cannot stay this way forever. They never do. Not because the universe auto-corrects, but because people—regular people, tired people, caring people—reach their limit. And eventually, things begin to shift. Slowly. Unevenly. But they do.
I don’t pretend to have the answers. I’m not trying to do it all. But I do know how to pay attention. To stay awake. To not look away. And even in the middle of all this uncertainty, I hold onto the idea that imbalance isn’t sustainable. That what’s rooted in fear and control doesn’t hold forever. And that, somehow, even in the mess, we’ll find our way back to something more human. More honest. More whole.
So I hold onto this metaphor not just to feel better, but to see better. It helps me stay in the truth without getting too lost in the overwhelm. It helps me remember that while the swing may be wild, it’s also part of the pattern. We may not know exactly when balance will return, but we can trust that it will. It always has.
And maybe that’s what we do: stay grounded, even in the chaos. Trust the rhythm. Believe—even when it’s hard—that balance will return. And that we’ll get there not by bypassing the difficulty, but by living through it. Eyes open. Voice shaky but clear. Feet planted firmly in the truth.
I don’t know, friends… this is the best I’ve got for where we are right now.
I’d really love to hear what you think. So share in the comments, would you?
This week’s microjoy: Found this stunning 1960s painting of a woman’s face while casually thrift shopping in Philadelphia during our recent staycation—and it stopped me in my tracks. A quiet reminder that even when we’re just out doing regular things, beauty has a way of showing up. May you stumble into something unexpectedly meaningful this week, too.
P.S. Per usual, if this resonated with you- PLEASE repost, comment, share and spread the word.
Welcome to Life, Created.
With love, wisdom [and small mercies] from Montclair. xx
