Here We Were.
When you start your 20s, you never want it to end. You feel like the goddamned king of the world: you stay up all night and somehow the next day, you can still function (what sorcery was this?) You meet people, you embrace life, you finally feel like your own person out of the purview of you parents. But by the second half of the decade, when you feel like you’re eighty-seven bothered by the damn youths, all you can ask is “how am I still in my twenties?”.
Anyone under twenty-five is thinking, “I’m different, that definitely will not happen to me”. News flash, kids: It is. The second half of your twenties somehow is thirty-four years long. Also, you’re going to get heartburn. From the most pathetic and bland food and drink, alas that is a tale for another day.
Your twenties is the decade where you figure everything out. Then learn you are completely wrong. Then realize you know nothing (a regular Jon Snow over here). And finally realize that someone set you on a trail that you didn’t ask for and they definitely forgot to give you the guide.
What we really figure out is that nothing is certain, the “real world” is a scary and lonely place, and that you never appreciated summer vacation enough.
We have been friends since we were too young to have different views from our parents, too young to know how fucked up the world is, and definitely too naive for dating. Raised in completely different ways (but holy shit, are they similar in hindsight), somehow we found each other and the friendship that would bring copious amounts of smiles, tears, and champagne -- sometimes all at once. At least our loneliness is spent together.
This blog is a journey for the end of our twenties. We feel like we’ve been through it all, but that’s a pipe dream. There is probably a bunch more shit waiting to been thrown at us in our last few years of this damn decade. At least we’ve got each other? And maybe you? It’s unclear.
We have no idea where we’re going, but at least we’re strapped in together. Join us in the crazy.
Erin + Rose
Vermont-based nomad, self-proclaimed hipster, recovering glitter addict, and typography enthusiast. I love intricate illustrations and simple designs, clean lines and hand-rendered fonts, loud music and soft-spoken words.
