After weeks of working and having basically no time to go out and get dressed! up! I finally was given the opportunity for my town's heritage day (which is, incidentally, today, therefore I'm wearing this outfit as I type). I decided to play it safe because of the weather (which is so humid it's on the verge of thundershowers) and wear my tutu with as many layers I could have possibly integrated without melting like witches in Oz. Clearly I didn't get very far!

Moving on - I really do hope to update this here blog more often than I have in the past month. I don't know if I will fully comply to this self-proclaimed affirmation until about July 1st though. Which is also known as the day I move from here and into my TORONTO HOUSE. I don't even want to think about it right now however, for then I will be reminded of the two and half weeks of waiting I must suffer through until that wonderful day. UGH I CAN NOT WAIT.

Back to heritage festivities now.

All thrifted with the exception of the tutu and socks, both from H&M.

WAIT ONE MORE THING. See this? I'm dying my hair this colour in a few weeks. (Then back to pink possibly? We'll see). I doubt you even know what colour her hair is because you're so hypnotized by the beautiful thing on her back; Miu Miu AND Comme des Garcons. This is literally a masterpiece.

(via stockholmstreet)

Anywho. Later days.

a thought on La Jetee

if you’re a photography major like me and you ever doubt the credibility of your program and what they make photography out to be, please watch this and trust in everything that lies outside of these educational based contrived claims. tell them that there is beauty in simplistic photographs such as these, those with a raw purity, those bare yet full of expression. a moment stopped in the eye of a lens, immutable, lingering forever through mutable reality - these are the photographs that make hearts feel pleasurable pain, like a warm emptiness realizing these easy moments have come and gone. they are once, always were once, will continue to be once, until death tears us from time and space like life tears a child from its’ mother’s womb. moment after moment after moment, never repeating, never returning. the only manner in which we may return, aside from a subconscious reawakening, is through the photograph. we recall each moment, let it be a tedious one or a dismal one or a glorious one, as a moment of our past caught in the web of present. one of the most beautiful things are these photographs, where a moment you will never relive or be able to replicate is shown to you in all it’s simplistic glory, just as you remembered it.

i get tired of people telling me that photography should be dramatic and salient and obvious and look! at! me! because i don’t think that’s what it necessarily should be. it should be all about moments. naked photographs are just as striking in it’s subtlety.

a moment in an ordinary life. no other kind of photographs matter.

(La jetée, Chris Marker, 1962)