Oi...

It's been a minute.

I’ve fallen off personal writing as of late. From creating submission essays for scholarships and programs to working and caring for the farm, I’ve made less time for my words and more time for everyone else’s. Enough! Grammarly is being turned off for this experience because sometimes you just want to write in your own style, as personal and incoherent as it may be.

Where to begin? Things are different but the same, just like every other essay I write here. I’ve been accepted into VCU again and this time, I’m actually going. I’ve paid my tuition deposit, registered for classes, and rented a tiny studio apartment on the border of Carytown and the Museum District. It is in fact so small that no human can comfortably live there with me — hurrah! I am elated to create my own space that only M Bunny can disrupt. He is coming with me and while that may be the most terrifying part of the journey, I am confident that he will be happy as a city dog playing in Byrd Park and going to doggy daycare once a week; as if my whole life doesn’t revolve around him already!

I’ve still been working horses but that is its own little game. I have found confidence and rhythm in handling these massive European imports, spoiled to all hell and shaky in their movements. Judy says she regrets bringing in such nice horses for amateurs because she’s now doing all the work in their training and riding. I tell her to join the club! Just kidding… I let her wop wop wop at me (Charlie Brown style) because I have never been so intertwined with someone from the North, no less a 60-year-old white woman with Republican political views and a strong Massachusets accent. I have thoroughly enjoyed cultivating a relationship with someone so different from me while slowly implementing my views of recycling, horsemanship, and social structures. Judy and her husband Ricky even came to my fashion show this past March and apparently, Ricky brought a gun!

You didn’t hear that from me — I don’t think he brought a gun. I hope he did not bring a gun.

But the show was such a success! The Sustainable Strut 2024 was held in the Ackland Art Museum and sold out twice in one evening. I am delighted to continually be a part of that lovely event with the fantastic models, designers, and coordinators I have become connected with. I’ve also become a local seller for Rumors Pre-Loved Clothing Boutique in Durham. It’s been interesting to become a member of the most hated populace within the second-hand clothing market, a price-gouging thrift flipper. For many years I stayed away from reselling my vintage clothing because I did not want to be accused of being responsible for the inflation of thrift store prices. However, it does pay the bills when executed correctly, and I think we all know now that inflation is beyond our control. I like to be able to buy groceries while also curating a vintage closet through the retail store without having to do all the retail chit-chat. It’s a win for me and I am happy about that.

Otherwise, Sebastien cut off a part of his finger! Table saws are not to be fucked with, y’all. He is being really brave about it, maybe more brave than I am, but the broken bones are still healing so there is more bravery to come. He’s been at the farm for a few months now and it is refreshing to have a kind man in my life. He found a movie projector at the thrift and it has been a game-changer for outdoor movie nights.

I think I’ve fallen off of here because I’ve been writing more on my portfolio blog, Saint of Goodwill. It’s easier to have it all compiled there instead of managing a personal and professional Substack blog. Maybe you will see me more over there when classes start — I hope to post many more fun and exciting fashion editorials. Cheers to change and moving on. I am excited to see what happens next. Best, Helena.