Isa

 TL;DR - if you have the funds, Just F%@&*ng Do It

This is gonna be long. Strap in.

I moved up to Seattle for my partner a couple years ago. A natural tropical flower, my afro-latina ass was *shook* at how COLD and WET it truly was here. So, in addition to the exponentially growing collection of pandemic-inspired sweat pants, I found myself buried in bulky, rain-resistant, outerwear, all purchased out of desperation.

As the world began to open up and my partner and I started bringing our date nights to the outside world again, I began slowly noting that I’d often repeat the same outfit. Determined to shake things up, I went to my closet set on finding something that wasn’t leggings, heels, and a dolman-sleeve top.

After a full hour (seriously, a full hour) tearing my room apart and manically laugh-crying at the absurdity of how weirdly emotional I was getting, I came to the realization that I’d become one of those people with a closet full of clothes and “nothing to wear”. And after drinking some wine about it, I recognized that what was *actually* making me feel some type of way was the fact that in the nearly two years that I’d been up here, I’d completely lost my identity.

I went from a wardrobe of fitted pieces in canary yellows, emerald greens, hot pinks, royal-blues—the type that would make even a bird of paradise or a mantis shrimp go “damn, bitch, you are *extra*”—to one of the bruise palette, with everything in baggy fits of desaturated, purples, blacks, and blues. So it was at 11:45pm on a School Night, almost a bottle of red deep, that I went on the lookout for a stylist and Mellicia’s name popped (or Poplin’d, as it were…sorry) up, and I requested a consultation.

I almost didn’t respond to her follow-up message the next day. For one, I was hungover (swear to god, you hit 30 and it all goes downhill), but also, what the hell did I need a stylist for? I’d considered myself a pretty fashion-forward person pre-Covid. Surely I could restore my wardrobe to its former glory on my own?

I figured I’d had nothing to lose in at least talking to her, so I went ahead and scheduled the appointment.

Ya’ll. Most worthwhile 90 minutes of my life.

Mellicia didn’t just ask me about my lifestyle, line of work, or aesthetic (Frannie Fine of Iconic 90s Sitcom “The Nanny” meets AOC, for those wondering). She asked about how I wanted to feel. She asked about my values (and then proceeded to hook me up with black-, brown-, queer-owned pieces and sustainable brands). She made the entire process collaborative, and was also the *only* stylist that worked with a tailor to transform my clothes.

After the initial consult I was sold. Mellicia not only nailed the wishlist and style from the start, she made me realize that a lot of the pieces that I gravitated towards I didn’t know where to *look* for them. So even if I’d gone on this journey to re-build my wardrobe on my own, I didn’t know where to source the best-quality ones.

She even helped me upgrade my loungewear. Now, I have outfits that are both comfortable and still make me feel put-together enough that I wouldn’t be mortified if Michelle Obama herself knocked on my door and asked me to join her for a last-minute tea party with Jacinda Ardern and AOC.

Mellicia is not a person that is going to half-ass this process. She is going to whole-ass it—the woman earns every red cent of that price point that initially made me balk. I now have a closet of clothes arranged in ROYGBIV (COLOR! Sweet, merciful COLOR) that I love and outerwear that is both warm *and* stylish.

Best of all, while I feel fashion-forward and trendy in everything I now own, I also feel that everything Mellicia sourced for me is classic enough that when the tide invariably turns once again (flares are back, seriously! Teenage Me would be so stoked), I still don’t feel I’ll look dated; no more purchasing fast fashion every other month because I have Nothing To Wear.

This experience hasn’t just been fun, it’s truly been an *investment*. If you’re privileged enough to have the funds, trust me—Just F%@&*ng Do It.