Oh, Philly. My hometown. 

Where I spent my youth chillin' out, maxin' and relaxin'. The city of brotherly love that also gives zero f*cks. You are my home, my stress, and my first teacher of how society works. And you definitely taught me that I was a lil bit different from your laid-back and gritty personality. And how fashion can not only be a statement but a shield. Because this mini big city is pretty small. And staying safe is priority, cause everybody knows EVERYBODY.

Growing up, my fellow Philadelphians wore their streetwear, mink lashes, and fresh kicks (I sound like my aunt. haha) on a daily. And their plaid button ups, beanies and ripped jeans every other day the previous fit wasn’t available. And don’t get me wrong, they looked good! They looked cool, effortless, edgy, and comfortable. And could definitely start a very successful minimalist inspired Instagram account. But, I would always wonder why they never experimented with their style? What made them want to stay in their clothing comfort zone?

Where were the denim midi skirts? Or a leopard print tee instead of the simple plain white or black? Now, street fashion has always been at the forefront of fashion around the world. But, in a city, where standing out could mean scoffs, laughs, and ugly glances, sticking to the norm is also a way of camouflage. If no one can see you, no one can hurt you. No one will laugh. And you'll more than likely be accepted by masses.

And that ain’t just directed towards people who wear streetwear. But for the goths, the anime lovers, the retro/ vintage lovers. Everyone uses whatever niche they’ve found, that they fit into. In order to fit in. In order to shield themselves from disapproving eyes, or laughs, or even more violent attacks.

There have definitely been times where I’d go out with friends, to a bar, in a knee-length midi skirt, leopard print high heels, with socks. And everyone is, literally, in black— head to toe. And I can feel that all eyes are on me. Even scoffs can be heard from a few. And from time to time, I did find myself wanting to blend in. Ditch the leopard print and heels with socks. And go for the grungy all black or plaid button up and a beanie.

During my school years, I never felt apart of any group. Or that I wanted to find a group or niche. I moved and traveled amongst whichever group of people or individuals would accept me. I made friends with the anime lovers (Even though anime was not my thing), the goths (black but all day every day? Nah.), the retro/ vintage lovers, geeks, dweebs, the “pretty” clique, everyone. Anyone that I could get along with, was my friend.

However, the feeling of having to find one was still strong. And the benefits associated with having one would outweigh the latter at times.

In business, a niche can help you gain followers and build a community at a steadier pace than without one. And the same, coincidently, happens in real life. Having a niche group expands your network. Meeting people who love the same thing as you. And as a result, end up supporting what you do because they too want to share in the joy of whatever niche it is. And with Thee Ethereal I’m still having this dilemna. What is my niche? How will I build a community amongst others who enjoy what I do? And how is that tied into being apart of Thee Ethereal.

And within all of the years of starting the brand, I came to this. Being ethereal, to me, is about being able to move freely within any sector, space, or niche I choose. Being fluid. Creating my space and taking up space. Being as bright and colorful as I choose. And making sure that me being me isn’t diminished. And inspiring others to do the same.

I want to build a community of creative, risk takers, who say “hell no!” to whatever “gate keepers” are standing in their way— in an adorable, stylish way, of course. We are here to be different and celebrate those differences without fear. Experiment with what you wear and see what works! This is your community. Share in the joy. Spread the joy.

Disturb the niches.