When I was Almost a Model

It seems that summer has turned into fall over night, and I couldn’t be happier. Of course, maybe I’d be happier if I had a million dollars and 25 cats, but for now chilly fall weather is enough to put a smile on my face.

Now, I’m not necessarily known as a fashionista, but one of the best parts about fall is fashion. When I say fashion, I mean that it’s acceptable for me to walk around town while drowning in an over-sized sweater and a scarf. Is this fact about me important? No, not really, but it does set-up where this story is going. So stop asking me questions and keep reading.

Anyway, on Fridays I’m allowed to wear jeans to work. With the fall-ish temperatures finally arriving, I decided that last Friday my whole outfit was going to scream FALL. From my brown, ankle booties, to my jeans, up to my army green vest. And for the final touch? A warm, cozy, gigantic blanket scarf.

Yeah, I couldn’t handle how fall I was either. #TooFallToHandle

Fiercely Fall. The name of my new memoir about a girl who loves big scarves.

This particular Friday also felt like a “Treat yo’self” kind of day, so I went to a very popular coffee chain that’s near the office– it’s known for its woodland and log cabin vibes, and it’s named after an animal. Okay fine, I was at Caribou, okay?

So there I was, fallin’ it up in Caribou, playin’ it cool. When I approached the counter, though, one of the guys working looked at me and gasped.

“Your scarf,” he said, “totally belongs in one of our ads.”

In my head, this is what I heard, “You~~r scarf~~ totally belongs in one of our ads.”

And just like that, for a whole five seconds, I was picturing a whole new future for myself. Me, a model. A model for FALL, my favorite season. Who would have thought? Not me! But golly gee, how exciting. Move over Gigi Hadid, there’s a new face in town and she’s already killin’ the fall style game.

THE FACE OF A (Pizza/Chipotle/Wine/Coffee) MODEL EVERYONE.

“Me? Really?” I asked, putting a hand to my chest/scarf. “Wow, you guys really know how to flatter a girl at 8 in the morning.”

The barista stopped and looked at me before he laughed a little, clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah, well..” and then he ran off to make someone’s drink.

Translation: girl, I was talking about the scarf being the model, not you.

In that uncomfortable chuckle, I was brought back to my reality of being a mere, caffeine-deprived peasant. Which I realized I’m fine with because it’s too hard to try to be anything other than a cat lady. Also, I really enjoy eating pizza and that’s rumored to not be on the model diet, so it wouldn’t work out.