Instagram's trippiest creator on fame in the age of the Internet, her past lives, and the wonders of walking.
AS TOLD TO GOSSAMER
I've always had an eye for things. When I was a kid I wanted to be an interior decorator. As my birthday gift one year I got to decorate my room. My home decorating style is totally a hodgepodge of random things. What I like on Pinterest or what I like online has more of a holistic color scheme and everything is in the same style. But I've never been able to do that. I like that in theory, but then in practice I'm like, “This! This! This!”
I wish I wasn't so into stuff. I feel like my highest, most evolved self is a more minimal, less attached person. But I really find joy in things. The Marie Kondo thing about keeping stuff only if it brings you joy? Well, everything brings me joy, so that doesn't work. I love colors and I love fabrics. I used to be the kid in the store that would touch everything, because I liked soft things. I like textures. Because I travel so much, I also like to have a little souvenir—a little piece of that experience, or a little memory. It's like a Horcrux of that moment. I think it's important to have those pieces that take you back.
I try to shop sustainably. Sometimes that's vintage. Sometimes that's, like, Reformation. All their stuff is recycled materials. I don't like fast fashion. I've obviously been pulled into a Zara or H&M purchase here and there, for sure. I can't fake it or say that I don't go there, but it doesn't make me feel good.
Maybe it's a result of Instagram culture—of wanting to be unique—but the whole mass produced thing seems to be falling away. There's a lot of negative stuff you can say about Instagram, but that's something good. People want to know where their stuff comes from—to know where it's made and to know all the details about it.