Since I was 12 people have told me that I "need to write." Maybe it was because of how I spoke, fast and descriptive, unedited and wild. Maybe it was because by "people", I mean my parents and they were just hopeful that their horrifyingly chatty daughter would find an outlet for her non stop talking other than them. As I got older, it wasn't just my parents- but it was always people who loved me. And for that reason, the love- I decided it couldn't be a real directive. It was a compliment- I knew that. But a complement from people who love you is as serious as a splinter. Everyone knows that. My mom thinks I should be a writer. So what? She also thinks I am f*cking GORGEOUS and that my hair looks good off of my face and that Everybody Loves Raymond is a good show. She is obviously insane.
So for a long time, I didn't believe it when people said I should write.
Then Instagram happened. I Instagram for my job. A lot. I am an interior designer and if the world can't see photos of what I do, I basically don't exist. At first I tried writing in a cheerful and professional voice. Example: "Here is a progress shot of the Rustic Luxe Bedroom I am working on! Soooo Pretty!". Gag. BOOOOORRRRING. I had 32 followers, and the only person who ever liked my photos was my Aunt Helen. She also thinks I am hilarious genius, so obviously, she is an idiot too. But truth be told- I put myself to sleep. Since nobody was looking anyway- I decided to write in my own voice. Fast, descriptive and wild. With a lot of swearing. And guess what. I got 1000 followers ( I know, in the grand scheme of things- not that many, but to me, A Sh*t TON) and yesterday- a woman in Australia told me I need to write a book. Followed by another lady in California who said the same.
WTF.
Maybe they are right. Maybe my unique brand of enthusiasm and mockery is SPECIAL. Maybe I am f*cking gorgeous and should wear my hair off my face? (That's never going to happen, don't be ridiculous.)
So I am going to try. I am going to write for designers and for decor enthusiasts. I am going to write for all the girls like me.
This is for my bitches, my homegirls and my friends. Those I know, and those I haven't met yet. This is for the people whose creative energy wakes them up in the morning, and keeps them up at night. For the artists, the dreamers, the gypsies, the entrepreneurs and the stoners. This is for all of the women who have been told they are "too much" or "a lot." Fuck that. You are just right. This is for all of the little girls and boys who couldn't stop asking everyone what their favorite color was. Who pursue pretty at all times, and when they see a sunset- they see a room, an eyeshadow, a painting, and a dress. And they can't decide which one to make first.
Let's do this.
My name is Layne. I am a Designer, Blogger, Trend Setter, Owner of The Jones Fix and I am going to make you laugh your ass off while talking about interiors, style and Paris. I will make fun of my husband, my mother, my clients, and myself. I will complain about my puppy (he is huge asshole) and call everything and everyone I love "Dumb" and "Dummy".
Cause that's what I do. And you are gonna like it, Dummy. Just watch.
(I will never wear my hair off my face though.)
(hi Aunt Helen! I do not really think you are an idiot!)