A few months ago, I would not have been able to stand in this spot.
On Mulholland Drive, on the edge, overlooking the city. In fact, I could just barely do it yesterday. Vertigo is such a bitch. But I’m grateful it’s behind me, physically at least. But that shit messes with your head. Pardon my French, I’m in a very non-censor myself mood. And truth be told, sometimes we Golightly girls curse like sailors. Sorry, Mom.
I’ve now talked to several people who have battled the beast that is vertigo, all with the same conclusion. Before vertigo, no fear of heights. After vertigo, petrified. Those amazing city views we used to love? Nope. Window seat at Soho House? Sweaty palms. A hotel room on the top floor? Sent me to the floor crawling to the other side of the room away from the windows. And using the interior service elevator last time we stayed here (which has particularly cruel exterior glass elevators). The dream of living in the penthouse? No thanks.
You just have to remind yourself, repeatedly, that it’s an irrational fear. And maybe hold onto that pole that happens to be there. You know, just in case.
And this Martin Luther King, Jr. quote helps too. And is a great reminder of how tiny these obstacles are in the grand scheme.
Here’s to moving forward, no matter what.
Wearing: Vintage blazer (similar yellow blazer here, here & here) / GAP 1969 jeans (old but similar paint-splatter jeans here & here) / Via Spiga sandals c/o Vogue Influencer Network #ResortReady / Vintage bag (similar white box clutch) / Prada sunglasses c/o ILORI (similar here and here) / Photos by Fred Baby
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