So this is it, eh
I owe full credit/blame to Blair Waldorf and her Met Museum minions for kicking off
When I moved to New York nearly two years ago, tights and headbands in tow, I found myself starting over once again. Naturally, I turned to Gossip Girl, watching the entire series again from the beginning--and the scenery started making more sense. Bethesda Fountain? That existed! The steps of the Met was a place I could actually sit. And rampant underage drinking was more than an exaggeration of the CW.
I felt myself getting a little defensive whenever Blair dissed Dan for living in my new home of Williamsburg (BTW, Rufus Humphrey was obviously loaded based on that unreal apartment, which I'm pretty positive Penn Badgley actually lives in due to the number of times--three--I've seen him in my neighbs). But even surrounded by the highest concentration of intentionally dirty hipsters the world has ever known, I still found myself asking the wardrobe gods: 'What would Blair wear?'
My style heroine may have idolized Holly Golightly, but based on my closet full of fitted blazers, shift dresses, pleated skirts, and girly heels, I'm all about Waldorf.
After Gossip Girl takes its final bow tonight, my Monday evenings undoubtedly will be comprised of me stroking my conniving gerbil Blair Waldorf's tiny head as I weep softly into her aspen bedding, remembering the times when I could gain fresh outfit inspo just by switching on the tv. Trends come and go, series get cancelled, tights get runs, and headbands get stepped on--but timeless style perseveres.
At least there's always Netflix.