the frequency in textiles & garments

The Vibrational Frequencies of Textiles and Garments

The vibrational frequencies of textiles and garments play a significant role in our daily lives. Every material we interact with emits its own unique frequency, which can influence our energy, mood, and overall well-being. Understanding these frequencies helps us make more conscious choices about what we wear and how these choices affect us.

The Concept of Vibrational Frequencies

All matter, including textiles, vibrates at specific frequencies. These frequencies can be associated with different emotional and physical states. Higher frequencies are often linked to positive feelings, increased energy, and overall harmony. Conversely, lower frequencies may induce feelings of fatigue, negativity, and disharmony.

When we select textiles and garments, we are not just choosing aesthetically pleasing items; we are also choosing the vibrational energies that accompany them. Natural fibers such as cotton, wool, silk, and linen tend to have higher vibrational frequencies, contributing to a sense of comfort and well-being. These materials allow the body to breathe and can enhance our mood through their natural properties.

The Impact of Cheap Textiles

On the other hand, cheap textiles often consist of synthetic fibers such as polyester, nylon, or acrylic, which may have lower vibrational frequencies. These materials are produced through processes that can introduce negative energies, and they can limit the natural flow of energy within the body. Wearing garments made from these inexpensive materials can lead to a decrease in our energy levels, lower vibrational states, and, consequently, a decline in mood.

Beyond their vibrational properties, cheap textiles may also affect our physical well-being. They can trap moisture, cause discomfort, and lead to skin irritations, further impacting how we feel during our daily activities. These factors combine to create an environment where our energy may stagnate, ultimately influencing our thoughts and emotional states.

Conscious Choices in Textiles

To elevate our energy and mood, it is essential to be mindful of the textiles we choose. Opting for high-quality, natural materials not only supports your personal well-being but also aligns with more sustainable practices. By investing in better textiles, we subscribe to higher vibrational frequencies that can uplift our spirits and enhance our interactions with the world around us.

Incorporating mindfulness into our clothing choices invites us to consider how our garments resonate with our inner state. Are they uplifting or draining? Do they inspire confidence or induce discomfort? When we choose garments that resonate with our energetic needs, we create a holistic approach to personal well-being.

The vibrational frequencies of textiles and garments are more than a scientific concept; they have real-world implications for our energy, emotions, and overall quality of life. By being intentional in our fabric selections and investing in higher-quality, natural textiles, we can positively influence our vibrational frequency, boost our mood, and enhance our overall well-being. Cultivating this awareness encourages us to recognize the profound connection between what we wear and how we feel, ultimately leading to a more fulfilling life.

Finding My Soft Girl Era

They say every ending is merely the beginning of a new chapter. After a season of heartache filled with gaslighting and confusion, I found myself staring at a blank page. Little did I know, a beautiful new story was waiting to be written—one drenched in pastels, comfort, and rediscovery.

Gone were the days of questioning my worth and lingering in the shadows of someone else's uncertainty. In their place, I stepped into the light—a soft girl era blossoming in the city. I started to dress up, not for anyone else, but for myself. Ruffled oversized garments, cozy knits, and a sprinkle of designer bags became my armor against the world. Every outfit felt like a charming reminder of my identity unmasked, each look whispering, “You are enough.”

As I prepared to face the bustling streets, I felt a flutter of excitement. Could a soft girl truly thrive in this concrete jungle? I decided to explore this question, so armed with my finest layer of confidence, I ventured out into the city—one evening at a time. I treated myself to lavish dinners, discovering not just new restaurants but also the distinct joy of dining alone.

Picture this: a table set for one, a glass of wine sitting prettily beside a plate of my favorite pasta. A little slice of heaven, just for me. As I savored every bite, I reflected on the journey that brought me to this moment. Each dish was a celebration, a festive acknowledgment that I am worthy of love and delightful flavors—even if it's just from myself.

Evenings turned into outings with myself. Music echoed through the air as i danced through neon-lit streets, my frequency aligned with the city's pulse. I found comfort in the camaraderie of souls who understood the power of healing through joy. What was once a lonely heart began to feel whole again, pieced together with every shared story, each laugh, and each sparkle of city lights.

The soft girl aesthetic, as chic as it is soothing, became a symbol of my resilience. I began to embrace vulnerability, shedding the remnants of a past that tried to dim my shine. Being soft does not mean being weak; rather, it is an invitation to rediscover one's strength in the gentlest of ways.

As I weave through this new chapter, I realize that healing is a journey, not a destination. It’s messy, beautiful, and, dare I say, utterly fabulous. My heart may have been bruised, but it remains open—ready to explore love in all its forms, starting with the one that comes from within.

So, if you ever find yourself lost amidst the chaos of heartbreak, consider stepping into your soft girl era. The world, with its myriad of experiences waiting to be claimed, just might surprise you. And who knows? You might just discover that the most radiant love story of all begins with you, out there, enjoying your own company—for in the end, we are the authors of our own tales.

Carrie Bradshaw, hold my blunt.

Embracing My Fashionista Side: A Journey of Healing and Self-Expression

This month marks a significant moment for me as I celebrate my birthday and embrace the mantra: out with the old, in with the new. For the first time in a while, I feel empowered to reclaim my throne and channel my inner goddess. As I reconnect with my fashionista side, I’ve discovered a sense of healing that not only uplifts my spirits but also allows me to nurture my inner child.

Taking a trip down memory lane, I recall a time when fashion was a vibrant expression of who I was. However, in the hustle of life, especially during my years living off-grid in Hawaii, I lost touch with that part of myself. It wasn’t until this month, amidst the celebrations and reflections, that I realized the playfulness and creativity fashion brings, echoing the joys of my childhood.

With the goal of revitalizing my wardrobe, I ventured into thrifting for vintage designer pieces. Each item tells its own story, and the thrill of the hunt is invigorating. From whimsical purses to unique accessories, I’ve stumbled upon countless cute pieces that inspire me to express myself freely.

Every vintage find serves as a reminder of my individuality and the lighthearted joy of dressing up. It feels as if I’m piecing together fragments of my past, allowing my inner child to emerge once again. The act of styling these finds not only invigorates my personal style but also fosters a deeper connection within myself.

This experience has taught me that healing often comes in unexpected ways. For me, embracing fashion serves as a powerful tool of self-expression and affirmation. It’s a beautiful reminder that we can always reclaim parts of ourselves, no matter how far we’ve strayed.

As I continue this journey of exploration and self-discovery through fashion, I am excited to share the vibrancy that is blossoming within me. Each outfit becomes a canvas for my creativity and a step toward healing my inner child. I look forward to discovering more of what this month has to offer, embracing my fashionista self and all the joy it brings along the way.

In celebrating my birthday—my new beginnings—I invite you to explore what elements of your own past can inspire your present. Fashion, after all, isn’t just fabric; it’s a reflection of who we are and who we aspire to be. Let’s celebrate our unique journeys, embracing change while honoring the essence of our inner children.

I woke up like this

In such a superficial world, being natural and taking pride in it is almost a sin. I mean, when did we trade authenticity for artifice? As I sip my morning coffee and scroll through my feed, I’m bombarded with flawless faces, sculpted bodies, and curated lives. It’s like stepping into an Instagram filter that’s been applied to society itself. Where's the room for the real, the raw, the beautifully imperfect?

Imagine a universe where showing up as your true self is celebrated rather than scorned. In a culture that embraces the polished, the pristine, and the perfectly manicured, being natural feels like the ultimate act of rebellion. Think about it: walking into a party without a tight contour or strategically placed extensions is a radical statement. It's the equivalent of wearing a vintage tee while everyone else is in designer gowns.

But here’s the kicker. Embracing our natural selves—or at least attempting to—can be an uphill battle. It’s like swimming against the current of a relentless fashion tide. Friends start to ask why you aren’t using that new miracle elixir or why you dare to go out with your hair in its natural state. Isn’t that the real question? Why aren’t we more adventurous in our acceptance of ourselves?

In a world that tells us to focus on fitting in, I say let’s focus on standing out in our authenticity. Don’t get me wrong, I adore a pair of killer heels and a swipe of lipstick just as much as the next gal, but there's something undeniably refreshing about flipping the script and choosing comfort over conformity—lifting the veil on our perfectly curated facades.

So here’s to the rebels, the natural beauties, and the ones who dare to go against the grain. My fellow urban warriors, let’s celebrate the beauty of the unfiltered. Give yourself permission to take off the mask. After all, in this era of façade, being truly natural could just be the most daring thing you can do. And perhaps, just perhaps, it’s time we trade the high-gloss for a little authenticity. Because sometimes, the biggest statement we can make is simply being ourselves.

B**** I was healing

Don’t let no one get in your way, girl! It’s a mantra I wish I’d whispered to my past self, months ago, when my heart felt like it was wearing the world’s heaviest chain. This month, I decided enough was enough. I was done with being heartbroken. After all, when did crying myself to sleep become my nightly ritual? It got old, and I could feel that familiar sadness wrapping around me like a comforter – cozy but far from liberating.

You see, somewhere along the way, I got lost in the routine of sorrow, trading my fierce ambition for a series of tear-stained evenings. I had settled into a pattern of heartbreak that would make even the most devoted romantic roll their eyes. Yet here I was, clutching my pillow, letting the past steal my nights and my joy. It simply wasn’t me.

I realized that life is too glorious, too vibrant, to be dimmed by lingering sadness. Sure, heartbreak is part of the journey, that detour we all take in pursuit of love. But why keep driving that same sad, winding road when the horizon holds new adventures? It was time to reclaim that spark that once ignited my soul, to kick the heavy blanket of despair off my heart and embrace the world waiting outside my door.

So here’s to taking back control. To strutting into any crowded room with my chin up, a fierce attitude, and an unapologetic smile. To not letting a past heartache dictate my future steps. Every morning, I’d wake up with the determination to redefine what my narrative looks like, writing my story in bold, daring strokes instead of muted pastels.

Let’s be clear: heartache is real, and the pain can sting like a bad hangover after a night out. But girl, we have the power to shake it off. Let’s choose self-love over self-pity, and let our spirits rise like the skyline at sunrise. Recognizing that we deserve better is the first step towards healing.

Let us celebrate the journey, with all its peaks and valleys. Love may resemble a battlefield, yet it is a challenge I am prepared to face. As the shadows of heartbreak recede, what emerges is not merely hope, but a brilliant affirmation of our incredible worth.

After all, it’s not just about surviving heartbreak; it’s about living life fully and unapologetically. Don’t let no one, especially not yourself, get in your way, girl!

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I would like to share with you all books that I am currently reading or have read that have helped me over come my funk!

POwer by RObert Greene

the subtle art of not giving a f***

good energy by casey means

the body keeps score

because I am an amazon associates sponsor if you open a free trial to kindle or audible, you get any of these books for free!

Healing A Broken Heart

They say love finds you when you least expect it, like a dior purse in a thrift store. But what happens when that love is really just a mirage—like a fake purse. an imposter, a replica? A brief romance can feel like the sun breaking through a cloudy day, illuminating everything hopeful and heartwarming. Yet, all too quickly, clouds gathered, and I found myself tangled in the murky shadows of gaslighting and deception.

A month is hardly long enough to write a love story, but it was just enough time to break my heart wide open. As I sift through the remnants of trust and the echoes of sweet whispers that turned sour, I’m reminded that healing isn’t linear. It’s a winding path paved with self-discovery, resilience, and perhaps, a sprinkle of sass. Join me as I navigate the complexities of mending a heart that wasn’t quite ready to break, finding strength in vulnerability, and ultimately, reclaiming the fierce love I have for myself. After all, if we can learn anything from heartbreak, it’s that our greatest love affair always begins within.

The experience of a deep emotional connection can be both profound and perplexing. It is natural to grapple with feelings that seem overwhelming and hard to process. The reminders of a past relationship can intensify the struggle, making it difficult to move forward. It’s important to acknowledge these feelings without judgment; they are part of the healing process.

Relearning how to cope with heartbreak often involves revisiting personal strengths and adopting new coping strategies. This journey may not be easy, but it can lead to self-discovery and growth. Surrounding oneself with supportive friends and engaging in activities that bring joy can help in regaining perspective. Remember, it is perfectly valid to feel unsettled during this time, and seeking professional support can also be beneficial if the emotions feel too heavy to bear alone. Ultimately, healing is a personal journey, and everyone’s timeline is different.

The journey of healing and self-discovery can often be a complex process, especially when faced with the emotional intensity of a deep connection. It's normal to question the reasons behind such strong attachments, particularly when they contrast with our usual approach to relationships. For many, including those who typically prioritize their own interests, this experience can feel disorienting.

Coping with feelings of sadness and questioning one's faith during such times is not uncommon. Acknowledging and allowing oneself to grieve is an essential aspect of healing, even if it seems overwhelming. The journey toward self-love and acceptance often requires dismantling the defenses we have built—our ego and pride. This is particularly challenging for individuals with a strong sense of independence, like many myself, a fellow SAGITTARIUS.

Overcoming these hurdles takes patience and resilience. Embracing self-compassion and understanding one's worth can pave the way toward renewed confidence and clarity. With time, the ability to reflect on the experience with a sense of growth and realization can emerge, transforming initial pain into valuable life lessons..

A Handsome toxic scorpio

Where do I even begin? First and foremost, let me emphasize the importance of safeguarding your personal space. Whether you’re a seasoned traveler through life’s twists and turns or a curious soul just setting foot on this path, remember this: Your space is sacred. It’s the canvas upon which your life unfolds, and you hold the brush. Be discerning about who you allow into this intimate realm. Not everyone deserves a front-row seat to your heart.

The Scorpio Poison

That truly is a reminder for myself because I have been through it this month. I was entangled with a Scorpio. Someone whom I had been talking to for exactly about a month now. And while the experience was very needed, it was also very toxic for me. We met on a dating app, which is a new experience for me as I have never been on dating apps and I knew all along that this was not my niche nor something that I resonated with. Guys on those apps want booty calls and temporary satisfaction. They aren’t truly seeking a connection with someone. This was totally the case for me.

The first night we were going to meet, I had this gut sensation deep within me - a voice kept telling me not to go over. I sent him a message where I expressed that I no longer wanted to meet because he was overly active on the dating app. And that bothered me because of how I had been approached by every guy on that app. He called me, we talked and communicated things, and I took my gut instinct as fear and insecurity. So there I go, driving through the middle of Highland Park to meet this man. When I first saw him I thought he was very good looking. He had a blonde beard, white straight teeth, and had a very charming smile. He continued to invite me inside his home, and into his bedroom for us to watch a movie. I knew what I was getting myself into. I dont know why, or how but I felt this instant connection and attraction to this man. I somehow knew this connection was beyond physical for me. I knew that I had to crossed paths with him, experience some time with him here on earth and learn from each other.

I was delusional

Our connection was electric, fueled by late-night conversations and stolen glances. Yet, beneath the surface, toxicity lurked. The Scorpio’s sting was both alluring and perilous. This scorpio crossed alot of things from my checklist that I was attracted to. And when you mix that with sex, things can get pretty real, really fast. I started to develop feelings for him. I wanted to help him and elevate his position in life. So as the sagitarrius that I am. I tried my best to do within my means, anything possible to help him financially, spiritually and mentally. We would have hour long conversations on the phone, I stayed over his house several times, I did things for him that only a girlfriend does for her boyfriend and I had to bring myself back to reality. Every situation I was phased with, I kept asking myself, would my husband speak to me this way? Would they be this inconsistent? Emotionally unavailable? And I kept coming across the crude reality that this man was not for me, and that was even harder to digest. In the cacophony of existence, it’s easy to lose sight of our intrinsic worth. We become entangled in the opinions of others, seeking validation and approval. But pause for a moment. Look within. You are a masterpiece, painted with hues of resilience, vulnerability, and uniqueness. Value yourself, not just for what you bring to the table, but for the entire feast you lay out—the laughter, the tears, the scars, and the triumphs

The Dance of Betrayal: Lessons Learned from a Midnight Text

“Here.” A text message arrived like a midnight specter, casting shadows across my consciousness. It was a Saturday night—the kind that hangs heavy with secrets and unspoken desires. My heart plummeted, as if gravity itself had conspired against me. The air in my lungs dissipated, leaving me gasping for clarity. I KNEW IT ALL ALONG! The truth clawed at my insides. Those nights when tears soaked my pillow, when betrayal and confusion danced their wicked waltz—I had sensed it. But his charm, oh, his charm! He was a master communicator, weaving words like silk, ensnaring me in a web of longing. Yet, beneath the surface, an imbalance simmered. The energy flowed one way, a river of emotion, while he navigated his own currents, heedless of my emotional tides.

“Really?” I confronted him, my voice trembling. His reply came, but he mistook me for another—a cruel twist of fate. He described a specific location, waiting for someone who wasn’t me. In that moment, I felt the sting of disrespect, the ache of being an afterthought. A 32-year-old man, with a child, intoxicated and risking his life—for what? A fleeting connection, a primal urge? I slept on it, cocooned in anger and resolve. Morning dawned, and I embarked on a mission. His house, a repository of memories and misplaced trust, awaited me. There, I retrieved a rare plant—a living metaphor for resilience—and a book: “You’re a Badass: How to Stop Doubting Your Greatness.” Bitterness clung to my fingertips, but this was no ordinary reclamation. These were gifts, pieces of my heart, bestowed upon him when I believed in more than mere chemistry.

He apologized, remorse etched in his voice. “Nothing happened,” blaming intoxication. But I had already withdrawn emotionally. The website I designed for him hung in limbo, a testament to my misplaced generosity. And then, the text arrived: “Are you done talking to me?” The words blinked on my screen, innocuous yet laden with history. A hook, baited with guilt. I bit, revealing my vulnerability. And there it was, the punchline to a cosmic joke: “I fell for it and called him.” . I coudln’t help but to be blunt and honest about my feelings and emotions. I expressed that I was deeply sorry for taking back the plant and the book that were genuine gifts out of my heart for him. This is where he mistook my kindness for weakness. I decided to drive to his place, grant him access to his site and get this over and done with. I had made up my mind and I was no longer going to speak to him after that day.

The sting

I stood before his door, uninvited yet resolute. The air crackled with tension. He was already setting up a date—another conquest, another chapter in his reckless saga. And there I was, an intruder in his carefully curated world. “I don’t want you here,” his eyes screamed. But I held my ground, my heart a battlefield of wounded pride. “You’re just another person that I let go because I can’t trust anyone in my life,” he spat. The words echoed, reverberating through the plastic that covered his windows.. “Katherine,” he said, suddenly emboldened, “maybe you wanted more than we agreed upon.” His words twisted like vines, choking reason. Had I not been clear? Had my silence been mistaken for acquiescence? The truth hung heavy: He didn’t want me. Not as a lover, not as a friend. The sting of rejection, familiar yet raw, seeped into my bones. Days ago, our bodies had danced, skin to skin, fueled by desire. Now, I was a footnote—a discarded melody in his symphony of fleeting connections. The revelation hit me like a comet: I deserved more. “Recompensation,” I demanded, my voice steady. Gas money, time, energy spent designing— valued at a hundred-dollars. A paltry sum, perhaps, but it symbolized my emancipation. I deleted him, severed the digital thread that bounded us. And his website—the one I birthed from code and pixels—I deleted it. A catharsis, a cleansing of the virtual slate. He mistook my kindness for weakness, but it was my armor. In that moment, I chose myself. Mental health over misplaced loyalty. Energy redirected toward healing. The dance of betrayal had taught me: I am both seeker and sought-after. And this time, I sought resilience.