|vintage bouclé sweater coat, silk dress, and fur bag // seychelles shoes|
As a sometime-editor, I'm hypersensitive to pet phrases; how they band together, gather momentum, and become new clichés. This does not mean I am immune to them. Ostensibly is one of my favorite filler words, along with just and simply. I've found more occasions to use the phrase young go-hards than I care to admit.
Writers at large say I found myself a lot. They find themselves face-to-face with a realization about a difficult choice they will be forced to make. They find themselves wondering about what kind of situation they have gotten themselves into. They find themselves all alone. And writers have a particular tendency to find themselves in front of an infinite array of something or other. I try not to find myself in front of jack shit, but I've come across the phrase so often, from so many writers I admire, that I've had to stop being disappointed an start reluctantly accepting I found myself as a neutral, possibly even necessary little tool for bridging divides between disparate clauses.
And given that I've been deathly ill all weekend, I found myself living in this insanely cozy, Cap'n Crunch-looking knit coat for three days straight, though I may have to boil it to cleanse it of the infinite array of boogers and germs it's probably picked up.