When I was a teenager, my girlfriends and I would sit and talk about the future, where we would end up and what we would be doing. Of course we all dreamed we would meet Mr Right, have the standard 2.3 children and live happily ever after, but I don’t recall anyone ever thinking that about me. My standout memory of these conversations is my friends believing that one day I would be the CEO of some international company, living in a penthouse apartment with a white couch. The white couch was important because no one with children would ever own a white couch but that was ok, because I was going to be rich and fabulous and successful.

These were the musings of 16 year old girls. Ten years later, I am finally having that moment where I wonder if maybe, just maybe, dreams can come true. Secretly I did wish for the white couch (although I would still love to have children one day – though maybe not 2.3!). Secretly I hoped for the kind of prestige and recognition and responsibility being as high up as a CEO would bring. Secretly, I knew the penthouse apartment would make me, and others, realise I had made it. I wanted it all – and Mr Right (and my cake if its not too much trouble) too.

This week – this past year – has been pretty phenomenal in my life. I often have moments where I think how my mother had me when she was my age and had already been married for 7 years and what do I have to show? But then I stop and reflect and realise, I have it all. I really do. I started this blog and Onya Magazine came along. I started writing for Onya and a regular column fell into my lap. I wrote for 15secs.com and Sassi Sam. I’ve been on the Grazia fashion jury twice and this week issue 96 of Fashion Journal has my first print feature. I house-sat for a friend in the city and within weeks of heading home, found my very own city apartment. I took three weeks of annual leave from my day job to volunteer at fashion festivals and accessory internships where I carted magazines, counted buttons and picked up rubbish. This week the long hours and hard work paid off when I was offered an appointment as a volunteer stylist assistant to Vogue Fashion Editor Meg Gray at this month’s L’Oreal Melbourne Fashion Festival.

You may have read on Twitter my apparent innate ability to win competitions of all shapes and sizes, the way contacts seem to meet me inadvertently and through people I wouldn’t have even expected to have known them and get invitations to events through the strangest of channels. I haven’t seen the Lindsay Lohan film Just My Luck, but I imagine I could somehow relate to it.

I truly am the luckiest person I know, not just because of how the world seems to be at my feet, but because of the opportunities that have been offered to me. I might be doing 99% of it for free, but I do it because of how much I love it and my passion for all things fashion. To everyone who has helped along the way – Thank you for everything. To the fashion gods (and goddesses) who are clearly helping me along the way, thank you. I may not be the CEO of anything yet, or have the penthouse apartment (I’m on the ground floor but you gotta start somewhere!) but I do have the white couch (thanks to Miss W and Mr G) and I finally realise that just maybe I am on my way.

White couches and penthouse views – this one is in Rome.