As some of you may know, one of my embroidered shirts was recently featured in Philadelphia Style magazine. In the article, they lovingly refer to me as a "Philly native." But since this three-inch-long feature is surely going to shoot me straight into stardom, I would like to take this opportunity to address a possible scandal:

I, Meg Favreau, am not a Philadelphia native.

I'm sorry. But in my defense, I never told them as I was. I merely seized this city as my own after moving here and somehow conned my way into two jobs where I write as a "Philadelphia insider." But no, I am not a Philly native.

I originally hail from northern New Hampshire. It's a rough-and-tumble land, a land that’s easy to lie about because most people haven't visited there. I was born in an abandoned hunting camp. The first meal I was fed post-womb was not breast milk, but a traditional deer jerky known as "Infant’s Lesson," designed to separate the strong babies from the weak. I was riding moose by the time I was three. Oh, it sounds fun, but it was a hard life. We didn’t get the internet until I was thirteen-years-old, and to this day my parents only have dial-up. Yes, northern New Hampshire is a vast Luddite wilderness, a wilderness that creates stubborn pride and snowmobilers. But I knew I wanted something more than a Ski-Doo. I wanted to live somewhere where I could get DSL. I wanted to live somewhere where "going out for the evening" didn't mean taking a 30-pack of Coors to the spot in the woods where a guy was scalped in the 1700's. I wanted to live somewhere where no one knew about the grave error I made in the 1996 Moose-Riding Pageant for Eligible Girls, turning my moose right into the audience instead of left into the show ring.

So I came to Philadelphia. And even though I didn't intend to, I planted roots in its glass-littered soil.

Am I a Philly native by birth? No. Am I a Philly native by blood? No, I still have the New Hampshire and its Lyme disease running through my blood. But am I a Philly Native when magazines want to claim a young, new designer as their own before anyone else does? Yes I am. And in the end, isn't that what matters?

This Saturday and Sunday, the Art Star Craft Bazaar is overtaking Liberties Walk (1030 N. 2nd St.) in Philadelphia. You should come! There will be about 100 artists and craftspeople hocking their wares (myself included), various workshops, and on Saturday some rock music will be starting around 4:30. The hours for the bazaar are 11-7 on Saturday and 11-5 on Sunday. For more information on the workshops and artists, check out the Craft Bazaar's webpage.