"It was past midnight in the detective's office. It wasn't until after his third scotch that he heard her high heels speeding down the hall. At once, the door slammed open. There she stood, in the backlit threshold, black fur blending with her dark hair and a certain je ne sais quoi about her."

We all have a story. Some of it is true, some of it is enhanced, most of it is made up of memories we involuntarily tell our brains to store. When we look at others, we paint pictures in our minds of who they are based on what they look like, what they're wearing, the places they frequent.

It may not be right, or even the right thing to do, but it happens. In one second, we write a perfect stranger's entire life story in our minds.

Recently I've been spread so thinly across all of "adulting" that even though I may have reduced the amount of time spent writing, photographing and storytelling my everyday sartorial choices, it doesn't mean I've put off living and breathing it.

The one current constant in my life that I refuse to give up on, is how I dress. If you have to get dressed regardless, why not do it meaningfully? Some say it may waste your time. Others claim it's insipid or superfluous. However, during a long ass day, when I walk past a mirror and see the reflection of a put-together – and hell, pretty creatively, one might add – it indulges that little man on my shoulder that keeps my heart pounding whenever Fashion Week draws near.

In college, I used to have this thing called "scrub day" – and no, I didn't go to nursing school. It was a day I'd allow myself to dress like absolute shit in sweatpants and wine-stained sweatshirts. I thought it made me "a down-to-earth chick." Someone who doesn't waste all her time in front of the mirror. But those days were just as long, and halfway through it, if I didn't look terrible to begin with, there was no chance in hell I didn't by now. I'm not sure what I was trying to accomplish by allowing myself a "cheat day" from making thoughtful dressing decisions. Getting dressed a burden.

So why shouldn't you enjoy telling a cool story about yourself every once in a while? I can have my cake and eat it, too. Image may seem trite. But everyone has one, and we're all being judged by ours, just as we judge others by theirs. The pages about you keep getting written, whether you want them to or not.

All you have to do is sign as author.