Life Lately: When I'm Actually on Pace to Bill 3,000 Hours/Year*

(via Unsplash) When I'm working this much, I get myself lattes maybe four times a week. I'm pretty good about remembering to bring my Joco reusable cup (affiliate link). 

*For the sake of transparency, I should note that I'm only on pace to bill 3,000 hours in 2020 if we assume I take no vacation. After factoring in the four weeks worth of vacation days my colleagues and I typically take each year, I'm "only" on pace to bill 2,800 this year. That's still a mighty sum!

You know how - about a year ago - I wrote about what it was like to be on pace to bill 3,000 hours/year, but I meant it in a tongue-in-cheek way because I'd only actually worked that intensely for a little less than three weeks total? Well, I now officially know what it's like to work that much for a month straight, and with no real end in sight for the rest of the quarter!

And soon, I'll be working many of those hours during a string of business trips, both international and domestic. It's even looking like I'll be away from NYC for almost half of March. One of my many upcoming business trips may involve a lengthy stay in Paris. Unfortunately, we'll probably be stuck in various conference rooms throughout the daylight hours - including over a weekend - so it won't be a fun trip by any stretch of the imagination. However, because the large international law firms in Paris are mostly located near the Arc de Triomphe - and accordingly, we'll be staying in that area - we won't be far from the designer boutiques on the Champs-Elysees, which raises a certain... intriguing possibility... Albeit it's a possibility that may not be fully compatible with certain of my more recently made plans.

A Handbag Person

Longtime readers may recall that, quite a few years ago, I used to daydream about the time when I'd finally, finally feel ready to purchase my first premium designer handbag. Ever since I first became interested in fashion and shopping - mostly after watching the Devil Wears Prada movie back when it was in theaters - I've generally been a handbag person, becoming enamored with the idea of various designer "it" bags that mostly would not have aged well or become classic designs, including the Miu Miu coffer. Back then, I wasn't quite as into clothes, or shoes, or other accessories.

Much more recently, however, I've gradually realized that there aren't many designer handbags out there that would suit my lifestyle and my tastes. I favor simple bags that are easy to slip things in and out of, without fussy flaps, closures, or clasps. Anything that's too heavy, or has excessive hardware, is just going to sit unused. Even by 2016, I was hard-pressed to think of a specific designer bag I'd actually be willing to spend that amount of money on. Currently, the Celine Seau Sangle is the only one I like the look of enough to maybe, someday, consider buying. (It's been on my main Pinterest shopping wish list for a while.)

In recent months, I've joked a few times that, if my travels ever took me to Paris, I'd have a hard time resisting the opportunity to shop with a VAT refund and the cheaper prices there for Celine compared to the US. I made that joke knowing that K and I had absolutely no plans to travel to Europe anytime in the foreseeable future, and without any reason to suspect that my caseload could ever result in an eventual business trip to Paris.

Now that it looks like I might soon end up in Paris after all, I'm not sure how likely it is that I'd follow through on this idea for a Celine purchase that I first spoke of in jest. But given how much I've been working - and how particularly stressful the specific project that brings us to Paris will be - I suspect I'd have a hard time resisting.

Incompatible Impulses

Separately, longtime readers may also recall that I came out of law school with a bit of a complex about feeling out-of-place in the biglaw and biglaw-adjacent segments of the profession I hoped to enter, for reasons of socioeconomic class on top of gender and race.

It was never really about what I wore versus what other people wore - these past two years, my annual clothing and accessories spend has likely been significantly and visibly above average for a typical biglaw-ish attorney of my seniority - but the designer items and status symbols are what that insecure, "imposter syndrome"-prone portion of my subconscious zeroed in on. In law school, what I was really envious about wasn't that so many of my classmates seemed to be able to comfortably buy significantly more expensive clothes and accessories than I could. Instead, what I was truly insecure about was that so, so many of my peers seemed to come from families that - unlike mine - could subsidize a significant portion of the cost of law school attendance.

Nearly a half decade after law school, I'm in a very different place. My student loan balance is still substantial, currently a little more than a year's salary as a JSP-12 judicial clerk, but I've also saved a much larger nest egg, and the loans have also been refinanced to a much less scary 2.6% interest rate. My first years in the profession were not what I expected, but I was lucky to find a good, not-exactly-biglaw niche for myself after clerking. And now, I'm starting to seriously contemplate whether I'll be ready to leave the private sector quite a bit sooner than I originally planned.

This raises the obvious issue that my new career plans aren't exactly fully compatible with my Parisian shopping plans. Should that lengthy business trip to Paris happen, and should I have any time to myself there while the shops are open, I think it's somewhat likely that it's the shopping plans that will win out. In the end, my ideas about how my longer-term career plans might be changing are still in too nascent and preliminary a stage to feel anything but extremely abstract. Meanwhile, the opportunity to shop Celine at Paris prices, with a VAT refund, will feel quite immediate and concrete, and like a rare and fleeting chance.

Anyway, there's quite a few weeks yet before that scheduled business trip to Paris, and there's always a chance it doesn't end up happening. If it does come to pass - and if the specific color of the Celine Seau Sangle I want is in stock somewhere within walking distance from where we're staying - then I'll likely, in one fell swoop, prove myself a liar about how I was supposed to shop much less in 2020 than in 2019. 

The "It Bags" of Yesteryear

Three celebrities with their Miu Miu Coffers, a pre-2010 "it bag" that has not held its value. I adored this bag when I was in college. 

The first unattainably expensive designer bag I coveted, back in college and not long after The Devil Wears Prada movie ignited my interest in fashion, was the Miu Miu Coffer. I didn't have much reason for it, certainly didn't have a sense of my "personal style", nor did I yet have a good understanding of my handbag preferences (I now favor large, unfussy totes). I just knew that it was beautiful, and that the whole combination: ruched leather, braided handle, and oddly placed front pockets, just seemed perfect, even if it all looks rather fussy to me now. I looked eagerly at celebrity street style photos of it, was familiar with all of the few that popped up online. Every time I saw it in real life, I stared at it wistfully from a distance.

Had I saved my work-study and summer earnings for it, I'd have been disappointed in my investment. Certain designer bags maintain their resale value well, as we all know, but Miu Miu isn't one of those brands. If I still wanted it, there are several to be had on The Real Real* (affiliate link) for $300 or less, though generally not in good condition, as it's ancient and long-discontinued. It originally retailed for over $1400, so that's a loss in value of more than 60% in the last decade, more if one considers consignment fees. 

I suppose there's not much point to looking back on it, except to emphasize that my teenage self was sometimes silly, didn't have great or particularly consistent taste, and would definitely have wasted tons of money if she had it. I admire people who, at a similarly young age, had a far more thought-out and defined sense of their own style, or aesthetics they were interested in, say Twelve: of Our, who I sang the praises of when I last reflected on my own early experiences with fashion, desire, and aspirational consuming. 

It's also interesting to see how some "it bags" stand the test of time, and some don't. To me, there doesn't seem to be much rhyme or reason to it. Way back when I started this blog, I looked forward to the day, years after I graduated law school, when I could finally indulge in a big designer splurge after having truly earned it. Except even then, I actually wasn't sure of what the bag would be, because I wanted something timeless. It had been a long time since I had been as attracted to any bag as much as that Miu Miu Coffer. So I was ambivalent even then, and that ambivalence only increased after I graduated, as the few "maybe" bags I picked generally weren't cool anymore, even just one year on. 

These days, that hypothetical "distant future splurge" keeps getting pushed back because my career has involved a few voluntary pay cuts, and I've only recently started paying my student loans in earnest. I'm actually pretty sure it won't happen, which isn't sad because, as you've seen, I indulge frequently in shopping and want for nothing. It's simply that my preferences have changed. Furthermore, looking forward, my plans to aggressively finish off my student loans (I could hit "net worth zero" a year from now, and it'll take at least another year and a half after) might not mesh well with goals like buying property, wedding planning, or getting ready to start a family, much less the, er, (still hypothetical) possibility of all of those things coinciding in a fairly short time. All of which is a long way of saying that, now that I've finally settled in to a job with no short-term expiration date, I'm a bit overwhelmed by how long it takes to make financial progress, and how slow the numbers tick in the right direction, especially now that the long-awaited market correction is upon us. 

Have you ever fallen completely in love with a designer item that was unattainably expensive? What was it? Would you still want to buy or wear those items now, if you had been able to buy it? Have those items retained their resale value? 

*Note that many people have raised concerns about The Real Real lacking quality control when it comes to verifying the authenticity of their products. I probably wouldn't worry as much about a really old and relatively low-value handbag that I'd only be interested in as a collector's item (which I'm not actually interested in, but hypothetically speaking). Handbag counterfeiters were extremely sophisticated, even back then, though, so buyer beware.

Blog Thoughts, Year Four

Invincible Summer is almost four years old! As always, I remain deeply grateful to everyone for being here, for everyone who reads along, and for everyone who chimes in to discussions with me. I'm still absolutely thrilled by, pleasantly surprised by, and always thankful for everyone who's here. Looking back at my previous "blogiversary" posts (please follow these links to my first year, second year, and third year posts), one thing that's been constant all these years is my effusive appreciation for everyone who reads along. Writing here is a delight, and everyone I've interacted with through this blog has always been wonderful. Even when someone might not agree with me about everything (and that's perfectly okay! I have grouchier than average views about tons of things), everyone has always engaged with my ideas respectfully, and in good faith, which is all I can ask for. It's one of the main things I hoped for when I started this blog in December of 2014, in a fit of nostalgia for what I remembered about 2008-era blogging.

Deep down, part of me is still that college student who, sometime around 2008, first realized that there were entire communities of blogs out there talking about fashion* in a far more accessible-to-me way than magazines or traditional media, and who found that absolutely magical and inspiring. Looking back, I was one of those young women for whom The Devil Wears Prada first ignited a powerful interest in fashion, except that it was also clear to me, even back then, that the film and the fashion industry it depicted also weren't for people like me. They clearly all occupied a fanciful, expensive, and glamorous world completely removed from my own, one that I would likely never be able to access. Accordingly, fashion magazines couldn't teach me anything about how to translate "fashion" to my more mundane, college student life.

Separately, like so many people in that awkward, gawky stage between being a teenager and a young adult, I also felt so often like I was an ugly duckling with no idea how to ever become that fully-fledged professional adult I hoped to be someday. The idea that the right outfit and some effort with hair and makeup could help facilitate that transformation, to help "fake it 'til you make it", was a big deal to me. It meant that I might not always need to feel so out of place, it might actually be within my power to someday, after having earned the right to do so, fit in as a working adult who could sometimes buy and wear some nice and beautiful things, and that I wouldn't be this gawky, hyper-awkward teen forever.

But I was hopelessly lost when it came to how I could possibly begin that process and figure it all out. Blogs were the first thing to really start bridging that gap. There I was, this young woman who could only ever shop at H&M (which felt expensive for me back then, by the way, I could only shop there sparingly!), Forever 21, Ross, and Target, and who had no idea how to put together outfits that looked anything like what I aspired to. But look(!), I could learn from all these other young women around my age and who also had modest budgets (generally, they were all students or very new entry-level professionals) who were out there putting together these really cool outfits, often with a lot of thrifting and secondhand shopping. Reading fashion blogs back then, particularly in the daily outfit genre, was such an important formative experience for me, and I'll always look back on my memory of fashion blogs from back then with considerable affection.

Even though that era of blogging is, I think, almost universally seen as being long gone, I'm still so excited and happy to feel like I can still recapture some of that old spark of what I loved about 2008-ish blogging here, and by reading the blogs I link to in my sidebar. I feel so lucky to be able to engage and connect with the ideas of so many other smart, interesting people through their blogs and my own. No matter how bad or weird or scary the internet or social media can get sometimes, I will always appreciate and value the good things that it's brought to me. 

Changing Views

While preparing this post, it was interesting for me to look all the way back at my first year "blogiversary" post to see how my thoughts on blogging have changed over the years, if at all. I'm still just as fond of blogger outfit photos showcasing items I'm in the market for as I used to be, though my commitment to taking such photos of myself has waxed and waned wildly over time. (I remain quite embarrassed by my weak photography skills, but also sort of continue to be without the will to improve.) I still feel like the "aspiring minimalist"-ish focus I first started with has slightly taken a backseat, this time to personal finance and career-related topics, which I write about far more freely now than I did back then. 

One sizable change is that I'm now far less grouchy than I used to be about the fact that fashion blogs and other types of social media out there can be monetized, sometimes to extremely lucrative effect. Although I haven't gained much new practical knowledge about photography, Instagram engagement stats, the business of social media, or anything like that for myself, I'm now much more appreciative about how much work those things are than I was before. It makes me feel very silly, actually, that I didn't realize this sooner. 

My true turning point on this issue, random as it is, may have been seeing a brief discussion on Corporette about Gal Meets Glam's collection at Nordstrom. Someone was being snide about why Nordstrom would carry it, and another commenter very reasonably pointed out that, hey, Julia Engel has more than a million Instagram followers. Regardless of whether one likes social media, and regardless of whether one likes her style, that represents real economic power. Plus, if a mattress review website can make as much as $2 million/year, which I think is more than double what some of the bigger players in fashion blogging make (albeit based on anecdotes that are a few years old), or if people from more genres than I am even capable of imagining (including in my wildest nightmares, recall the DaddyofFive and Logan Paul controversies) are raking in several times that on Youtube, then, well, it just doesn't make much sense for me to get grouchy about monetization and fashion/lifestyle blogs. As long as people are transparent and clear in their disclosures of what posts are sponsored and how affiliate links work, and as long as people generally try to make it so that people can "opt out" of the links and find the items separately on their own (all things I try to do here), it's all good in my book.

Please follow the link below for my annual blog income report and a "footnote" to this post. Thank you again for your support of Invincible Summer throughout the year!

Complicity and Discriminatory Workplaces

via Unsplash

With all the recent discussions about employment discrimination and racism in media and journalism, including at Bon Appetit and Refinery29, I've become troubled by one particular question: To what extent can a person fairly be considered complicit in a discriminatory system in which they have no, or minimal, power? It's a question I've been thinking about when I see Asian-American women writers around my age respond to recent conversations about racial discrimination at certain publications. 

This question first occurred to me when I saw Christina Chaey's post on Instagram about Bon Appetit (she was one of the nonwhite employees featured semi-regularly on their YouTube channel without extra compensation for appearing in videos). In it, she apologizes for her "complicity in a system that made me feel lucky that I got a seat at their table," explaining that she "hold[s] [her]self responsible for not doing more to support my BPOC colleagues past and present." She then goes on to state that "I've been complicit in - and at times have contributed to - the toxic white culture these men [Adam Rapoport, former Editor in Chief of Bon Appetit ("BA"), and Matt Duckor, former head of video at Conde Nast, both of whom have now resigned due to past racist behavior documented on their personal social media] and many others have cultivated at BA. Like so many Asian Americans given some level of power and voice within predominantly white institutions, I haven't checked a system I benefited from at the expense of other BPOC colleagues."

By her own account, Ms. Chaey has not been given a raise or promotion since she was hired in 2017 as an associate editor at BA for a salary of $68,000. In other words, it does not appear she had any real power within the company.

Sunday Reading: Sponsorships and Swag

Racked recently did a feature about how much swag they, a smaller online publication, received in the last six months. This isn't particularly surprising, especially if you watched The Devil Wears Prada (though the movie painted an exaggerated picture of what it's like to work at Vogue, employees don't actually take home clothing and handbag samples for keeps). What was more surprising is that Racked doesn't ever feature the vast majority of what they receive. Either way, it doesn't particularly bother me that big publications get lots of freebies - I always assumed that. Regardless, I generally don't get product recommendations that way. The feature didn't generate too much discussion on r/femalefashionadvice, but there was still some good food for thought, most of which went in the direction of gifts and sponsorships sent to social media "influencers."

Last year, Adina posted her thoughts about the extent to which bloggers may contribute to excessive consumption, or unrealistic ideas about how much one should buy. I left a rambly comment there and always wanted to spin it off into my own post, but alas, it takes me forever to write anything serious. Back then, I thought it wouldn't be fair to attribute my previous more excessive, and sometimes careless, consumption habits to fashion bloggers, as I had those tendencies long before blogs were a thing. Plus most of my favorite blogs were by extremely creative, dedicated thrifters (Fops and Dandies, I miss you still!), so if anything, they encouraged "good", or at least, relatively eco-friendly and wallet-friendly, shopping.

Yet the top comment on r/femalefashionadvice makes a good point about how, because social media types present themselves as, and certainly started out as "real, normal people," it can create some sense that because "normal people" consume this much, maybe I should too. Looking back, this happened for me, particularly as to beauty products. I've never been a big makeup wearer, but I've purchased much more than I needed, or even particularly wanted. (I've since gotten rid of all the eyeshadow and most of the nail polish.) Because I had no other way to learn about makeup, I relied on Youtube, though this was a lot time ago, before sponsorships, back when Michelle Phan just made her first video, and I viewed it on her Xanga. One indirect lesson I got was that, of course someone must get each of their looks from multiple palettes, so maybe that contributed to my previous VIB every year Sephora habit, which I've since put aside.