Our Blog

What made you want to get into personal style blogging?

The summer before I studied abroad, I interned a fashion editorial start up and covering the celebrity news and personal style blogs was part of my “beat.” I was interested in how bloggers were getting off the ground, just setting up their own websites and becoming popular. It seemed like they were taking destiny into their own hands and I wanted to do the same thing. When I was studying abroad, I wrote about being in Europe and then when I came home, I started to blog about fashion that women love and men hate. 

You wrote in one of your pieces that “when I confront a blank screen, it is incredibly rare that I leave without having learned something either new about myself or my perspective on the world or the topic at hand,” What was the biggest light bulb moment you had about yourself when writing?

I think every time I learn something new is the biggest light bulb moment! It’s one of the most amazing and fascinating things about the human experience — the extent to which we can surprise ourselves.

What was it like to be in the digital space at the time of Man Repeller? What’s your thoughts in comparison to today’s digital space?

I remember it very romantically, probably because it is over. The internet was like the wild west, there were no rules, the algorithms were less aggressive, it seemed like a less cynical place. But I appreciate how it has grown and formalized and the opportunities that it has given to so many people who otherwise may never have had a shot. 

How did your family’s culture and religion influence you? Especially in terms of the way you write and the way you view life? 

I think I have learned to really value difference, that it is actually just an early threshold of deeper connection. When I was younger, I really resented that my parents weren’t American. I wished to be more like the kids I went to school with, to eat the same foods, to have the same, family hobbies — I think in this way, I struggled a lot with self-acceptance and it has only been in starting to embrace the rich cultural nuances of my own background that I’ve been able to see how blessed I am by its influence. I think when you’re a Jew from a predominantly Muslim country (one that actively declares itself anti-Semitic in my mother’s case), you learn quite quickly that you are other, but with a bit of hope and optimism that certainly brushes up against big challenges, it also teaches you in this really beautiful how even beyond that, there are mutual human touch points that make us so alike.

As a lifelong city girl, what was your first impression of Istanbul? What struck you the most?

IT IS SO HUGE. But honestly, there are so many things — I think it is among the richest countries in the world, informed by where it is positioned, on borders with Asia and Europe and its proximity to the Middle East. It is so unique to enjoy the indulgences of Western civilization but also reap the inherent benefits and absolute historical richness of where it’s positioned on the map. I’m so proud to be from there, it’s such a unique and special country. 

During one of your interviews, you mentioned that you used to look outward for direction. What did you have to unlearn to not look outward for direction anymore and became your own genuine self? What was that transition like?

When I look back at my writing, and I see it quoted to me like in this instance, I realize that a lot of what I have written has been done so through an aspirational lens — recognizing that I am doing something I don’t want to keep doing and setting an intention, or affirmation, to do it differently. A lot of us look out for direction, it is so easy to get distracted by what your neighbor over there is doing, to mistake his confidence, or happiness, with what he does for a filling, or what his goals are and then to adopt those same goals or desire for a job because you think it will make you more happy or more confident. I think it took realizing this for me to stop chasing all the dreams that were around me. To recognize that I wasn’t seduced by this person’s life or that person’s job — it was really their spirit, the ease with which they moved around, how natural the smile was. And these core features: your principles, your sense of self-worth, your self-esteem…you can’t find them anywhere but inside of yourself, right? 

Does your interest in food grew like everyone else during quarantine or have you always been interested in the world of cooking? Did this interest give birth to The Cereal Aisle?

I actually used to hate to cook, I started cooking during the pandemic and found that actually, I’m not terrible at it. As my level of creative expression (getting dressed) was sort of being pulled away from me, I found a lot of reprieve and joy in creating new things through food. I’d mix interesting ingredients and see what came up. 

As far as the newsletter, the name is certainly born from how much more time I have been spending in the supermarket of late, but also because the internet has become so divisive — and I think often people are confused by what they are supposed to expect of the people they follow. The cereal aisle is a sort of explanation of clarity, that in my aisle you will get: outfit ideas, style advice, some perspectives on style and life/parenthood, but that’s about it. 

During one of your interviews, when talking about Man Repeller you said you used it “to be seen and validate”. As Man Repeller came to an end, we now have The Cereal Aisle. Does The Cereal Aisle fill that hole? Do you feel seen now with this new chapter of writing?

I’m no longer looking to feel seen in the same way that I was with Man Repeller — I’m extremely grateful for what the platform and its audience gave me, and proud of what I gave to it. It was a gorgeous celebration and embrace of physical imperfection that took on its own life, that is still loud, out there and kicking in beautiful, beautiful ways that have nothing to do with me. In this next chapter, I am very curious about intellectual imperfection, about celebrating the inconsistencies of our ideologies and ultimately, I wish to see myself in this way and accept that, and then to help more people do the same.

How do you define success now?

You know that full feeling you get on the inside when you do something nice for someone, or after having spent a beautiful long weekend with your family? It is like the ultimate, most fortifying strength — that’s how I think of success. By clocking that feeling, and finding a way to experience it every week.

What advice you would give to an aspiring writer?

The writer cannot be the victim — they are telling the story.