The Eclectic Life of Lauren Howell
I would like to think of myself as a jack of all trades with a stubborn streak of hope that maybe I will master whatever my new hobby is. So far? Not a master of water color, chess, water polo, swimming, running (that dream was short lived), ukulele, fashion designing, poetry, or writing. Granted, there are a few things that stuck - my incredible talent for making biscuits and gravy and my obsession with interior design.
As you can probably tell from my list of failed hobbies, I live a fun life. I get bored easily, not because I’m a savant or anything, but because I think I’m actually an old, rich eclectic lady from New York trapped in a 24 year old’s body. Hear me out: I love wallpaper, cats, extravagant outfits, Chanel perfume, and giving incredible dating advice for someone who has spent a majority of her life single.
Just like most fabulous old lady backstories, I grew up in a small farm town, namely Providence, Utah. My childhood was a Norman Rockwell painting. From sneaking into neighboring farms through broken fences, and biking to the local store for penny candy.
When I thought of college, my only idea was attending BYU. Everyone of my family members had gone there, and I had a magical view of the opportunities BYU held for me. When I was rejected in 2016, I was crushed. In an act not unlike a rebound after a breakup, I immediately accepted admission into Utah State University. From then on I swore to have a weird and aboundingly deep hatred for Brigham Young University.
At Utah State, I fell in love with Interior Design. All of a sudden this new world opened to me. A world that wasn’t just colors and pillows, but creative problem solving and a desire to push past the norm. For once, I was rewarded for thinking differently than my peers. This new freedom bled into every faucet of my life. My personality became brighter and bolder and my confidence shot through the roof.
I began to feel a small pull to reapply to Brigham Young University. By some small miracle, I was accepted! The only problem? BYU does not offer Interior Design. I was determined to figure out why I felt so drawn to be there, so I took an intro class in every major that sounded possibly interesting. After many useless credit hours, and a newfound detestation for sewing, I found myself in an Advertising class. As Professor Doyle began to teach, this feeling started to creep over me. It was a very familiar feeling, a feeling I felt in my Intro to Interior Design class. The same underlying theory once again revealed itself: I thrive when rewarded for my inherent creative nature.
So here I am, accepted into the Advertising program at BYU. I love the journey I have taken to get here, and I am ecstatic to see what the future holds. As for fulfilling my calling an old eclectic lady in Manhattan? I am twenty-five percent of the way there.