as a teenager in the late eighties and early nineties, i wore a lot of black

being a fan of depeche mode and the cure, you kind of had to

once out of high school and in san diego, ca i found myself inspired by the west coast and all of its hippyness and bohemianness

i left black for the two years i lived there

when i returned to the east coast not only did i own no black but i hardly owned any warm clothes

after a few years back in new jersey and new york, my wardrobe was once again filled with black

then, in two thousand one i moved to miami beach, fl where i still am today

living under palm trees and blue skies all year round, after being here for over ten years, i can honestly say that i have a total of five black pieces of clothing in my wardrobe

i don’t own a lbd

the other day when i got dressed to go to the park with Lily, i threw on a black shirt that doesn’t even belong to me (it belongs to a friend)

i felt strange and morbid all day

i don’t like myself in black

my relationship with black has been over for quite some time and i am happy about it

i am a much happier (and better looking) person in color

so long black

a peak at what’s hanging in my closet

happier/better in color