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How The Story Begins!


As I begin this journey of becoming a blogger in a world full of bloggers, I ask myself, as a woman in her fifties who doesn’t fit the norm, of being a size two, what will make me stand out? What topic will I choose to write about, and will I have the right amount of knowledge on such issues, especially in the fashion world. I mean, I’ve written poetry and performed some works in spoken word venues, but does reading poetry in a room full of people make me an entertainer or some social media expert? Does typing make me an official blogger?

I knew in my heart when I started on this venture of blogging my thoughts and ideas onto paper; it would have to engage the reader, make them think, and make them want for more. It would require me to have to go deep inside into a place only writers recognize. A place where writing becomes your lifeline making it a habit, so addicting it becomes your religion. It was also the same place, deep in my heart, where I would have to stand naked and let the reader into the world of Flora Montes. Me, a woman who never gave up regardless of the obstacles life threw her way. I wanted to break the stereotypes of those who had grown up in the South Bronx when it was burning. I needed to be the woman who highlighted all the beautiful things these concrete streets had to offer. I knew to achieve this dream; I would have to sacrifice everything to make it happen regardless of sleepless nights. There were nights when I cried so hard because of the naysayers; I wondered whether I should have walked away from this dream.

The moment I decided to bring Bronx Fashion Week to life, I knew there was no turning back. I also knew it would not be an easy task, there was no ‘’Fashion for Dummies’’ manuals, nor “How to books on fashion.” All I knew for sure was the minute I saw my first model strut down the runway; I had fallen in love. I had prior experience in Marketing and Event Planning. Did I mention a once upon a time a Chef? Even though I had my culinary school teaching behind me, I knew this was a whole different ballgame. Meaning I would have to be a novice in a house of cards, and if I made one wrong move would fall upon me harder than any other lesson life had chosen for me.

I went to Latin Fashion Week on a Saturday and a Sunday, I was making plans to begin Bronx Fashion Week; this is how my story begins!

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