All of these memories came flooding back to me, though with Taylor Swift’s new song for “Toy Story 5,” “I knew it, I knew you.” It’s a beautiful song about reconnecting with an old friend. My mind is blown that there are now five movies in the franchise. The last one I saw was “Toy Story 3,” which, as a kid, I totally missed the heartbreaking message of outgrowing toys — or friends.

The song and its advertising focus on Jessie. Swift even stated that the song was created for Jessie, and for the premiere, she is seen photographed with both Jessie and Joan Cusack. Finally, Jessie, the tough cowgirl, gets the spotlight! More than that, the song focuses on Jessie’s backstory and her friendship dynamics with Woody and the “Toy Story” crew.

Beyond Jessie’s story, it is a chance for audiences to get nostalgic about their childhoods. Jessie’s backstory is tinted in a warm yellow. Summer VonHolten wrote for the Medium about how certain color palettes evoke childhood memories. For her, the use of yellow equates to “warm, comforting and full of life.” Seeing Jessie’s memories, we feel those emotions and think of our own memories with similar feelings.

Bringing Jessie back into the spotlight reminded me of my childhood with “Toy Story” and my Jessie obsession. It reminded me of my love for the films as a kid and how I was a huge Jessie girl. For Swift fans, it brought back Swift’s “Debut Era.” I grew up around that era, so for me, that further fueled my childhood nostalgia.

Will I watch “Toy Story 5”? No, I prefer not to have my childhood ruined with unresolved storylines. For me, “Toy Story 3” was my Marvel movie ending, where it was climactic and tied up storylines.

For some background, orange is commonly ranked lower among people’s favorite colors. Take the book “Regretting You,” two of the characters have frequent conversations about the hatred of the color orange — a strange literature and pop culture reference, but hopefully it proves my point a little. I mean, Elle Woods called someone who thought orange was the new pink, seriously deranged.

While orange can have good connotations, like how tiger lilies can symbolize prosperity, wealth and good fortune, according to Bloomeroo, this isn’t entirely the same for the color. On the other hand, in “Inside Out 2,” Anxiety is orange. Construction cones are orange, representing both construction and caution.

For me to embrace the color, it wasn’t natural until I saw it make waves in the sports world and among celebrities. A month or so ago, my friend told me I have an orange aura, and, to me, that made me happy because I thought of all the good orange represents.

Back to the Knicks, social media makes going to their games look like a cool experience, like Taylor Swift and her friends. Now, going to a basketball game earns you a cool girl badge. I felt the same when I attended a Cleveland Guardians’ game back when they won the American League Central Division. Social media has made going to games both an aesthetic opportunity and a chance to walk a sporty catwalk — but at a stadium. With this in mind, you have to grab your orange gear now.

With everyone wearing orange, it appears that bandwagon fans are influencing this normalization of the color by joining in for the pop culture moment and rooting for the underdogs. Bydrie’s Sophie Vilensky reported it’s a shared sense of togetherness, appreciating the same thing. Vilensky described this newfound togetherness as a stark contrast to our isolated ways of living. America is known for having a bootstrapping and “do this on your own” mentality.

I agree with Vilensky, as many of my coworkers and I have discussed the Knicks and even rooted for them, despite them beating our local team, the Cleveland Cavaliers. Even when I shared a Knicks victory-inspired Instagram story, I saw many of my friends love the Instagram story, which I appreciated because they have amazing taste. In a world where so many things divide us, it’s nice when moments or events can remind us of how we can come together. Think America and the Olympics, suddenly we are patriotic and one giant team because we are rooting for the same team/nation.

Back in the late summer and early fall of 2025, Swift released her “The Life of a Showgirl” album with orange being front and center. I personally don’t see the connection between orange and the notions of glamour and entertainment, but Swift puts her own twist on the color. She even had me wearing the color leading up to the release, and I am not a big Swiftie.

Of course, the choice for that era to be orange may be because it was one of the few colors she hadn’t done before. When I think of showgirls, my mind goes to Las Vegas, which goes to the Elvis Presley song. Because of Baz Luhrmann’s “Elvis,” Vegas does invoke bright lights, but I think reds from the curtains and yellows from the stage lights. Nonetheless, Swift created waves and made the color more palatable to the masses and her fanbase with orange merchandise.

I also wanted to include this fun little mental health tidbit on orange, sort of circling back to anxiety. The Knicks’ victory also reminded fans how they are just like all of us and struggle with mental health. In the online clothing company Grey Bandit’s mental health blog, “Ride the Wave,” they noted how the Knicks’ 26-year battle to win another championship symbolizes our struggles to continue moving forward in life. In an Instagram post, they focused on the comeback journey and how the battle to overcome anxiety is not easily won in just a quarter. In the carousel, they even mentioned how we might be down 27 points, but there is always potential, as you are still in the game.

With orange dominating the court and the stands, I like the reminder that mental health can be normalized and made understandable in a relatable way.

Thank you, Swift and New York, for showing me how a lot can be unpacked about a color.

Before these nature hikes, I distinctly remember my 5-year-old self running around in nature, soaking up the sunlight and basically spending all day outside. I had natural highlights as a kid because of how much time I spent outside. At the same time, this 5-year-old me looked up to American Girl Doll Girl of the Year Lanie Holland. To me, Lanie was cool and aspirational for having a pet bunny, an old-school laptop, a supped-up camper and a killer wardrobe.

Those material things cemented in me my obsession with Lanie to the point where I read her book at 6 years old and couldn’t fully comprehend it. Beyond her doll accessories, she had online games about planting flowers and gazing at the stars. Seeing those activities as a kid made me want to save the earth, including talking to trees (embarrassing) and giving them dirt spa treatments — yeah, I was a little crazy kid. I don’t necessarily plant flowers all too much, but I have gazed at the stars multiple times. In college, my friends and I lay outside of a dorm stargazing. My sister and I would stargaze at home post-college, and I do it by myself on my drives home from work at night.

Lanie, for me, was a lot like Kim Possible, where I had a positive role model who demonstrated good life behaviors like nature conservation and female empowerment. Sidenote, I had a Kim Possible as a police officer shirt, and that was the first moment where I realized being a cop wasn’t solely a man’s job.

As for Lanie, she recycled and cared for the earth and loved science. I had my struggles with science, but seeing her and, eventually, Elizabeth Zott excel in science allowed me to nerd out on topics of space and the ocean.

The main point is that having an American Doll inspired me as a kid, taught me to appreciate nature, understand its beauty, and realize how precious a resource it is. Would this piece have been better suited for an Earth Day posting date? Yes, but I was busy with my job. So far, for my job, I have gotten the chance to write about animals, oceanic topics and nature, so that’s a win. Thank you, Lanie, for making me a better adult who cares about nature and informs the public about it.

Lanie, this Pinterest board goes out to you.

Recently, I posted a “tomato girl” moodboard here on Substack, which motivated the idea for this diary-esque entry. I am Italian, but it’s not something I really own up to unless under certain circumstances, like when someone else is Italian or can speak Italian. I haven’t always been proud of my heritage too much because of Italian-American stereotypes and feeling a disconnect from those assumptions.

Growing up being Italian, to me, meant being more natural and connected with a simpler way of life. It consists of picking produce from my grandparents’ garden, spending every second of the day out in the sun and running while looking at treetops. So, the last one was more of a unique experience for me, and one that surprisingly never led to any concussions. I viewed my grandpa’s miniature greenhouse as a secret garden, mostly off-limits. This depiction of my childhood was one I described in a scholarship application for which I was awarded a scholarship for being Italian and able to speak the language, too.

As I got older, I began to realize that most of my relatives had a flashier version of being Italian. This made them more distinctly Italian-Americans. Their ideal had gold chains, boot-like peninsula of Italy tattoos and dark, voluminous, curly hair. Personality-wise, men tend to think they have an in with mafia-esque stories, ranging from the “Sopranos” or “Godfather,” except they are from the suburbs and never dealt with organized crime. The women feel obligated to be the Italian version of a housewife or more of a homemaker. Note, this variant of an Italian woman is not my mom, as she is more like my grandpa and stays out of the Italian-American lifestyle.

Some of my relatives even pointed out how my dad’s genes made me look “less Italian,” with pin-straight brown hair with sparse golden highlights and a flat chest. I know how very Nora Ephron of me to be upfront about being on the flat-chested side. These same “Italian-Americans” live for gossip, discussions surrounding food and Mediterranean superiority — and DRAMA.

I did love being a bystander to some drama. One time, while my relatives from Italy were visiting, there was a big event connecting three families. It felt so special and family-esque when our Italian visitor made a beeline to our house to rehash the drama and escape from the dramatics of the “Italian-Americans.”

In general, I tried to separate myself from being European and Mediterranean. Like Ralph Lauren, I want to be classic Americana and western. Thank you, Dad, for the wild west interest. Aside from my relatives in Italy, I don’t feel connected to a lot of my relatives because I am more reserved and don’t like to be the center of attention. I only tolerate relatives who are kind-hearted and meek.

I started to disconnect from my heritage in ways where I wouldn’t reference it or acknowledge it either. For instance, I begrudgingly took Italian in high school – I hated Spanish, and German was too harsh a language. I never wanted to be a poster child for being Italian, thinking it represented a big attention-seeking persona, with being the loudest in a conversation or redirecting it to be a story or topic concerning them. Maybe I felt I could never live up to what my relatives expected of me?

I think I only won the scholarship because I told the donor I wanted to split the money with my sister, a more passionate and devout Italian. She loves the culture and took Italian in college. Being devout, as in, she doesn’t hate being Italian and seems to retain her cultural identity. To credit her, her version of being Italian is rooted in the beauty of the language and its classicism. My sister is my copy-editor, and I felt that I was selling myself short. Her version of the scholarship sentence would have been, “I helped convince the judges to also give my sister a scholarship,” followed by telling me, “Nikki, you won the scholarship on your own merit.”

How did my perspective change? How did I like tomato and some part of being Italian? How did I think fondly of the “tomato girl” aesthetic? I returned to simplicity. I have always loved the outdoors, and upon embracing that love, I discovered a continued admiration for my grandparents’ garden and way of life. I found beauty in the things my grandpa already saw beauty in. Yes, the “tomato girl” aesthetic has allowed me to reflect fondly on my tomato-coded memories and continue sharing my favorite things online. Initially, I detested the aesthetic, thinking it only glorified images of Angelina Jolie in “Mr. and Mrs. Smith.” My grandpa actually requested I share his tomato plant soaring out of his greenhouse with all of my friends in college, so I posted an Instagram story — very in line with my love of visually appealing images. It was a funny moment because my usually serious five-foot grandpa comes towards me, meaning business, but then breaks into a smile and giddily stills me to instantly share this Gusiness World Record gardening achievement. Not a very climactic realization, I guess.

Where does that leave me now? Well, I am still buying into the “tomato girl” aesthetic. I have a little tomato Palm Pal. I am still sharing and consuming content that reminds me of my childhood and grandparents. Am I a proud Italian? No, sorry. I have attended some Feasts of the Assumption, but I still feel a disconnection where I am not rowdy or zealous about my culture like other attendees. The crowd matched the scene of my Italian-American relatives, where I felt out of place dressed like Sofia Richie Grainge on vacation.

There was camaraderie among people that I didn’t know and wished not to engage with. To these people, their presence at the Feast made it seem that the party or festivities really began and could only begin with them present. In stark contrast, they talked about their food recipes, drinking habits and what was happening with their kids - nothing I could engage with. To put it plainly, these feast-goers were simply not my crowd, as we have different personalities and approaches to the Feast, where I am more reserved when I feel uncomfortable. Even going to Murray Hill, Cleveland’s Little Italy, I order “not very Italian” food, aside from calamari and cannoli filling.

I guess I can’t fully identify as an Italian. However, I still honor my grandparents and their immigration to America by preserving their real identity — not a cartoonish one guided by pride of being European and belonging to a club with the likes of Frank Sinatra, Sophia Loren and “Godfather” culture and ideals. And yes, being a “tomato girl” gives me the chance not to fully deny my heritage and think fondly of my grandparents. I would rather define my heritage by the simple beauties of it, like my grandparents do, rather than its place in pop culture. At least I can say I learned the beauty of a tomato.

I have this memory of myself as a four-year-old running around my backyard in the bright spring sunshine, hyped on the energy of having just watched Lindsay Lohan sing “Drama Queen (That Girl).” As a four-year-old in 2008, I admired Lindsay and her character, Lola, wearing various clothes reflecting constant personas. Looking back on this childhood movie of mine, I realize how in suburban Starbucks I am surrounded by children who have never seen this cinematic Disney masterpiece and have no clue the impact Lola’s outfits had on my psyche.

I admire younger me so much because she strived to be a diva before it became cool again. She wore the patch of being a drama queen proudly because Lindsay did. Yes, imagine my sadness when I could no longer look up to Lindsay because she was considered a “bad girl” or the butt of the joke by most male comedians.

I am not here to make some sort of statement; I just want to reflect and admire this film that had such an impact on me.

First, I am not going to cover the plot too much as the title is pretty self-explanatory. Basically, though, Mary Cep moves from New York City to the suburbs with her mom and twin sisters. Mary has a deep-rooted passion for Broadway and acting, so she dresses immersively for roles and has the typical persona of an aspiring actress, full of character and whimsy. Along with their move, Mary decides to go by the name of Lola instead, which is better suited and less of a common name. Upon her move, Lola deals with mean girls, suburbia, crushes, school plays and the concert for her favorite band that is about to disband.

From the plot alone, I can really relate to suburbia and having a favorite artist. I was never too theatrical; I am only really a funny person who likes to talk in front of a camera. As mentioned, though, the heart of the plot was Lola’s fashion decision. I understand dressing with a certain theme or aesthetic in mind just for that day. I have worn sporty-, coastal-, sit-com character- and Hampton-inspired outfits because those are all aspects of me. I learned to dress rooted in my interests from Lola, who wore looks that embraced her dancing abilities and boho twist to reflect her artistic personality.

The most important fashion lessons I learned from Lola were to wear funky or unique accessories and give vintage clothes a new life. Lola wears her iconic Coke bottle tab necklace as her go-to accessory. I don’t necessarily have go-to accessories aside from my pieces of initial jewelry. I did have more outlandish jewelry like a taxi cab necklace, a Snoopy ring, a Spiderman bracelet and a Cleveland Guardians bracelet, too. All things that pique my interest. So why not wear them on my wrist? As for vintage clothes, I love the concept of giving fashion pieces new life and not subscribing to fast fashion. I still long for a pair of the Chloe Spring 2001 horse print pants. Being a germaphobe, my vintage clothes consumption is limited, where I mostly rifle through my mom’s ‘90s clothes for Rachel Green-esque finds. This tactic has worked. Lola wears pieces that can obviously be found in vintage stores, such as her repurposed feather nightie robe used as a cardigan over a ‘60s shift dress paired with go-go boots. Side note, I also recently got more blonde highlights matching Lola’s that she paired with her red hair.

Yes, I did ignore her “My Fair Lady” red dress moment, but I swear I also copy movie and TV shows’ looks as well — as mentioned, I dress like Rachel Green sometimes.

The whole point of this post was to express my admiration and love for “Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen.” “Drama Queen (That Girl)” will always be one of my feel-good songs. It’s also very sad that younger kids don’t want to embrace the whimsy and aspirations of Lola Cep, but the 2000s did it better. This movie means so much to me, and I am proud to say it has made me more of a fashionista.

Not once, but perhaps twice or three times, I found myself floundering this year in career directions where things looked bleak, and I wondered if I would achieve my career aspirations. I am not too comfortable talking about my career (it’s happening, believe me, but I prefer privacy and space), although I am more than happy to discuss the lessons 2025 taught me.

Being authentic

Growing up, I was a shy kid who was afraid to embrace and pursue my personal style and interests. Now, years later, I have grown out of my shell, and my parents often describe me as having tenacity. Also, being surrounded by fashion enthusiasts helps me take more style risks and ultimately dress like Carrie Bradshaw one day. Here are some lessons I’ve learned about being more authentic.

1. Take style risks; the outfit will only last a day

2. Get a practical yet fashionable everyday bag (think L.L Bean’s Boat and Tote)

3. Have fun with bag charms and keychains, think of them as mementos

4. Dress to get compliments from your favorite people

5. Use Pinterest as a mirror for both style and lifestyle

6. Try everything like a pair of shoes, it deserves one chance

7. Live like your role models, stop just aspiring

Find that healing glow

It’s no secret that once Ariana Grande began to play Glinda in “Wicked” and “Wicked: For Good,” she was glowing. Now, reasons could be she was healing from her divorce or getting to bask in the glow of playing her dream role. Inner healing is an amazing concept where you can go through hell yet have a newfound appreciation for life and the people who have stuck by your side. Here are some reflections I have made once achieving that glow.

1. True friends will stick around

2. Tell everyone you love them, let them know they are valued and appreciated

3. Enjoy every moment, you won’t realize it’s a core memory until it’s over

4. Invest your energy only in people and things you love, don’t drain yourself

5. Don’t hold yourself back; be the same person in every setting

6. Smile, once you are glowing, keep that glow going

One of my core memories is watching “Wicked: For Good” whilst drinking a Glinda refresher from Dunkin and having my for good Little Words Project bracelet on.

Let’s be nostalgic

If a genie were to grant any of my wishes, I would ask to go back to 1998 to witness the late 90s. I can’t explain why I am obsessed with the late 90s. Maybe it was because I wasn’t alive, or it was peak time for my extended family, they took vacations like the Barones in “Everyone Loves Raymond.” My obsession is evident in my preference for using Kodak FunSavers and keeping my uncle’s photo album documenting his trip to Washington, D.C. in 1998. With all of this, I feel very qualified to give nostalgic living advice.

1. Invest in an old school camera

2. Keep photos for either scrapbooks or corkboards

3. Be the designated photographer for your friends

4. Listen to full movie soundtracks, best suited to your chosen decade

5. Consume one piece of media that’s new to you from your chosen decade seasonally

6. Recreate outfits of iconic characters or celebrities

Number six is a popular one for me. Number five is best accomplished through having a LetterBox account.

Philosophic advice

As alluded to, I let people’s judgment prevent me from living authentically. Once I outgrow that fear, I have slowly learned how to be myself. I feel like we all do this in our 20s, though. Also, facing external career pressure has given me a more grounded perspective.

1. Go outside more; it’s naturally beneficial for you

2. Be content with silence and conversely unpredictability

3. Trust your gut when discerning between decisions

4. Offer up any struggles, I always like to think someone else has it worse than me

5. Recognize and reflect on your achievements, don’t discount them

6. Remember, good things are always on the horizon and coming

7. Be an adult and act with grace

8. Honor your happiness, including your presence on the Internet

Facing the music

While 2025 was an immense year for me, it also had it struggle and doubts. What I learned from those trials was to be an adult and rise above it. And once you have done that, you need to not let others attempt to drain your happiness. Remember, as Taylor Swift said, your energy is expensive and not for everyone.

There will always be noise from people around, but you have to find your serenity song, I know, like “Anyone But You.” Finding this song is key, though, because yes, it’s a comfort blanket, but it’s your motivation or mantra. Maybe I should have worded it as a fight song instead, except to me that it invokes a more trying time. My serenity song is one I can use in an impromptu dance party or when driving through a snow blizzard. Here are some of my choices for a serenity song. I kept quite a few on my YouTube playlist, I call sun rays with a string of emojis.

1. Unwritten - Natasha Bedingfield

2. Sally, When the Wine Runs Out - Role Model

3. Island in the Sun - Weezer

4. Drama Queen (That Girl) - Lindsay Lohan

5. Can’t Fight the Moonlight - Leann Rimes

2026, please be kind to me and full of new adventures.

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