Colourful clothes with extreme cutouts and chunky platform shoes clotted an entire web page alongside tight, high-waisted butt-hugging skinny jeans. No girl - myself included - would be caught without a pair of denim hotpants and belly-baring crop tops. Then, along came a hashtag, whether it be slapped on a book title or accompanied by five words that brandished every outfit post. Along the paparazzi-friendly pavements of Los Angeles, two brick-and-mortar stores opened in the City of Angels.

Despite a high following and massive public recognition, lawsuits, bankruptcy, negative reviews, closed stores, employee layoffs and a $20 million acquisition tailed along. Two words: Nasty Gal.

Founded by Sophia Amoruso, Nasty Gal was created to be the store that every young woman and girl growing up like myself ever dreamed of: sexy and sassy; sweet, but spicy; smart and savvy. Being able to wear a piece (whether it be a cropped biker jacket or a pair of garter leggings) from Nasty Gal made me feel like a boss. For a then 19-year-old, the excitement of wearing trendy clothing hit me: I went from a wholesome-looking dork to a full-on bad gal. From then on, I was inspired to become more body confident, fearless and fun.

Apart from the clothing, Nasty Gal was simply a brand that I aspired to be every single day. For the Nasty Gal look (before Amoruso's departure from her CEO position), I always copied the smoky eye look and stained berry lips. I also changed hair colours like it was the seasons. My peak Nasty Gal shopping sprees were in college, where I used the hallways as my catwalk. Whenever it was time for class, I showed up in a faux fur pastel coat, leggings and an oversized sweater along with a pair of Dr. Martens boots. It might've caused a distraction, but I couldn't care less.

The year #GIRLBOSS came out, and Nasty Gal launched their first standalone store, I fully drank the Kool Aid. I was diving into the Nasty Gal hype, where I read Amoruso's how-to-guide-meets-memoir in a few days on a trip to Japan and went to every store opening. I was also very privileged to have the chance to meet Amoruso three times. While I sucked myself into the orbit of the Nasty Galaxy, little did I know that the blips encountered along the way hit me hard.

When Amoruso stepped down from her CEO position, I've noticed that there was a huge chance in the styles of clothing. Gone were the booty shorts and chunky Jeffrey Campbell cutout boots. In its place, Kardashian-Jenner-friendly monochromatic neutrals took over. The clothing, shoes and accessories felt too sedate. The makeup and hair were too bland. In fact, the new aesthetic was a beyond a little mature to my liking. I felt that the new Nasty Gal was simply trying too hard to keep up with the times. Then, the prices went up: I was no longer able to buy any pair of jeans I wanted, and it was time to swipe my debit card somewhere else.

The moment I read that Amoruso was rumoured to leave the e-tailer, it was a tragedy waiting to happen. I hadn't purchased anything from Nasty Gal and little did I anticipate that there would be a closing sale (which surprisingly, had really nice things!). The reality of the site's last legs was an indicator that I could never experience it again.

With the end of an era for Nasty Gal, I had to remind myself that the heartbreak wasn't the best way to mourn. Instead, what I need to look at now is the legacy that the company has built in my life.