The Beginning of Everything
Recently, I watched Z: The Beginning of Everything. A ten episode series of the free-spirited Zelda Fitzgerald based upon the novel Z: An Illustrated Life. It encapsulates you within the torrid whirlwind of the twenties and her first year of marriage with author Scott F. Fitzgerald. I've always been enamored with her story (I initially renamed my adopted Persian cat after her) but it's... more than that. There's something about her that connects with me on a cellular level. I can be brash, fiery, spontaneous, and at times suffer from depression that is the aftertaste to everything I experience for weeks at a time. I felt like I was watching myself and snippets of past relationships on screen for ten thirty-minute increments, catching brief portions of myself that riddled me with both fascination and disgust. The thing is: I'm not solitary in this, which is why both her entity and marriage, has held so many of us spellbound for decades.
With Valentine's Day looming ahead, I was going to showcase famously wild, passionate love affairs. After all, if my past dictates anything: that's what I tend to be drawn towards. But I'll save it for next week. Instead, I'm here to tell you: There is nothing wrong with loving raw, intensely and being consumed by life. Care to know my worst fear? Sitting across the table from the person I share a bed with, eating bland food, making bland conversation with boredom glazing over my eyes. We should all refuse to settle.
Btw: Zelda died at the age of 47, at a mental institution strapped to her bed, and burned alive by a fire.
But you get the idea.
Sunnies: Marc Jacobs
Turtleneck: Cupcakes & Cashmere
Pants: Ralph Lauren
Jacket: Odum, Bauers & White (vintage)
Loafers: Jeffrey Campbell
Photography: Stephanie Parsley Photography