Worn Fashion Journal was my first and only proper internship. The day I found out I had an interview, I had been fired from my job at American Apparel and I was miserable. Not because of the job, but because I wanted to buy some more stuff with my employee discount.

I showed up to my interview dressed to impress in whatever mismatched outfit I could pick out in time. Their old office was a mess—small, cluttered, decorations were all over the walls and back issues were in an organized pile in the corner. I loved it. I remember telling Serah-Marie McMahon, the editor in pants, that I had just been fired from American Apparel. She liked that. Before I met McMahon, I didn’t know how to write. She was my introduction to finding a voice in writing and my guide in, as corny as it sounds, finding myself.

Worn prided itself on provocative, diverse commentary instead of caring about trends. It was a fashion magazine with a true, distinct voice. And now it’s closing down. On November 22, Worn will be releasing its last issue—a special double anniversary edition. I remember when they made the announcement. I cried.

I wouldn’t be the same person I am today without Worn. It was my first proper byline, my first introduction to feminism and some of the greatest, most fascinating and talented people that I would ever meet. I wouldn’t trade anything for my time with Worn, and though I stopped interning there and started only occasionally contributing, it’s still a huge part of who I am. Every new issue that comes out fills me with pride. I swell because I get to say that it’s something that I was a part of: Toronto history, I’ll call it. Worn is, was—no, still is—a local powerhouse a source of pride. Joy. Excitement.

Worn: I will always love you.

 

Featured image courtesy of ranti