So this is it, eh Gossip Girl?

After five and a half seasons of incoherent story lines, confusing plot twists, and apparently disappointing Nielsen ratings, it’s really over. Like all great love stories/mediocre basic cable dramedies, the romance couldn’t last forever. Things haven’t been so great for a while now–but, to quote what’s sure to be a future Taylor Swift song, “I can still remember that very first ‘XOXO’…”

It was love at first tights.

In 2007, I was a college sophomore in Boston, still emotionally reeling from my recent transfer to a new school and the cancellation of the O.C. (aka the official ending of the high school me). Gossip Girl filled that void–and before I knew it, I found myself more than willing to trade in my dream of Seth Cohen for another seemingly unattainable infatuation: Blair Waldorf, or rather, Blair Waldorf’s wardrobe. And not only because she got Nate, Chuck, and Dan to fall in love with her.

There’s something about her style: It was so intentional, the total opposite of Serena’s perma-morning after garb. Blair’s outfits were always a little calculated and matchy-matchy, giving her this sort of ethereal Chinadoll quality: Perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect lipstick–perfect for me to swagger jack. So swagger jack, I did.