Endpaper


In Defense Of Running Late

By procrastinating my own future, I’ve saved myself from making the most fatal mistake: embarking on adulthood without really considering what I want from it.


frisbee sunrise

I left my room at 6:30 a.m. my first morning with my hair tied up, loose strands pinned back, cleats dangling from my gloved hands. The wind seared red into my cheeks as I made my way over the Charles River, and I wondered when the sun would rise.


Direct Flash

I can’t shake the fact that my love for Los Angeles Apparel opposes my self-professed feminist politics. When I add another tennis skirt to my shopping cart, I line the pockets of a man who built his career on the degradation of women.


The Threads That Bind

I often marvel at how it must feel to move throughout the world with such lived experience — how a person can bear witness to so much history and still take to the streets every day in a plush faux-mink coat with the fervent zeal of a person eager to inhale the equally familiar and foreign sights, smells, and sounds of New York City.


Learning to Forget

It’s hard to resist the constant urge to document. But memory is just as much about forgetting as it is about remembering.


Leaving the Church, Keeping Its Ties

I have no idea why I chose to go back to Utah. When my parents called me a few weeks earlier and asked if I wanted a ticket, I said yes on autopilot. Later, I felt dishonest. I was embarrassed to be flying home for a religion I was supposed to have completely disavowed.


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