moonage daydream

Mmmm yeah. Two new blazers, the blog introduces itself to you. I didn't know which one to wear, hence the pictures, because I was still in the stages of indecision. Still am most likely, even though the outfit has been worn. Due to the heat I ended up putting the second blazer in my bag just in case it got cold (which it didn't) and I wore the last, too-simplistic-for-me outfit at my friend's birthday party. Had to come home early because strep throat likes ruining people's lives. I've had so many peppermint teas I think my blood has been diluted. My days have consisted of napping, drawing, listening to The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust, and watching Almost Famous and Pretty in Pink. So I can't really complain now, can I?

Oh, and if you're wondering what shoes I wore, refer to previous eighteen outfit posts. 

Both blazers and belt, thrifted. Sequin dress, H&M. Shorts, gift.

oddly enough less sleep makes me more sane

Here are a series of photos concerning last night's outfit. You kids are lucky, no lunacy posts today. I'm so tired the last two sentences took all of my willpower to type. see?thewillpowerhasbeensosuckedoutofmeican'tevenusethespacebar.

backtobed.

Corset thing is from H&M. The skirt and ring are from Forever 21. Zebra bracelet is from Urban Outfitters. Doc Marts are thrifted. 

stoned on shoes and literature

I'm too lazy to write anything like I usually do (eccentric/overlysatirical/slightlydisturbing) so I'm going to write an excerpt from something I found in my sketchbook journal. By the by, who wants to buy me these shoes? My email is over there --> or you can reach me via phone call, my number is 1888DESPRIT. Thanks. Anyways, right, the excerpt.

Her eyes told me something. A silent strife, subjectively weeping in the most crucial manner. It meant something. Not only to her but also to me. My sympathies began to well underneath my chest, and I impulsively took her hand in my own.

"It's going to be all right" I told her, and suddenly objectivity took its toll and she was wearing her heart on her torn up sleeve. And I joined her in her anguish, the sruggle to grasp the reassurance. We wept and held onto each others hand as tightly as we could, as if our hands were the concrete form of my previously uttered statement.

I probably wrote this in a delusional state because typically my writing is shit in comparison. Oh, and the picture of me is from a few weeks back. Yes, I realize those glasses have no lenses in them. If I had a nickel for every time I've said that I would be able to buy every pair of the Chanel gun shoes that were ever made and rent out an empty pool and go to town via diving board.

sincere apologies, mkay

I haven't been home for a while. The past few weeks actually. And now that I'm home I've started working to save up for the city in a month and the rest of the summer's shenanigans. So yeah. Don't expect a lots of posting soon. I mean, what can you expect? When you're a procrastinator and a blogger and the weather's perfect you're bound to fail somewhere. Anyways.

I leave you with a picture and a thought.

walking down the hallways of my memory, the hardcover spines of my past, i notice something that catches my eye. don't judge a book by it's cover, it wrote, and i thought about irony and literary devices and all that. i removed it from it's home, dust lingering around my lips, and glanced at the cover. glitter, rainbows, unicorns, sunshine, nostalgia. i placed the book under my nose and inhaled. it reeked of flowers. life. rain. happiness. intrigued, i opened the book. the pages were cut out in a square and in the middle lay a severed earlobe, the smell of angst and death attacking my nostrils. the words were smeared with blood. unreadable. i placed it back in it's original spot and kept walking. spines always tell the truth.

post Joy Division, it's okay I still love you

I'm leaving in about five minutes so I can't convey a lot in this post (I think this is for your own benefit however as my rambling is full of psychological toxins and will probably turn you into a wingless bird if entirely read) but sorry for being gone. I just graduated high school (liberating!) and haven't been home or on the internet for 1 week+ so it explains quite a bit.

Anyway I've been pretty inspired by Eastasian fashion lately so I've been into quite a bit of layering lately. Plus I've been listening to New Order a bit lately so it probably explains the song choice (title of tune is Ceremony download it now and you'll be doing yourself a favour). PS. Lately.

PPS. A million points goes to the person who can guess what piece of clothing (footwear) I haven't taken off since purchase. I love love love them. Oh and if someone can get me White Eyelet Doc Martens boots I will create world peace.*

*I'll try my hardest, k?

PPS. This outfit was intended for future reference as I did not attend an important enough event for this beautiful of an ensemble.

Black coat is from Old Navy. Floral cardigan, jean shorts, Doc Martens are all thrifted. Black/pink undershirt which is actually a dress and the pink tights and all necklaces are from H&M. Glasses are 3D movie rims. Pink necklace bow was originally fabric to tie graduation flowers.

This is what it looks like when I try to emulate the amazing glorified awesomeness orgasmic I-would-end-my-life-for-you perfection that is CdG Black. I literally died when I saw it. It was like when you can't convey your point properly and someone does so perfectly you can't help but scream "OH MY GOD YES THAT'S IT!" at the top of your lungs. That's what I felt like. Like the perfect outfit I just haven't fully become conscious of yet, these photos did it for me (is that cheating? I'm probably going to hell. In drop crotch pants.) Yeah, I have a feeling the next few posts are all going to be me wearing these drop crotch pants. And blueblack blazers. And blouses. Dude, at this point I'm going to dye my hair red like the model wearing the original clothing. Sheesh.

My camera wasn't working (bitch) so hello Mac Photobooth. 

Can I just have one piece? Please? Pretty please? The socks? One sock? Thread?

I'm spending tomorrow evening practicing how to perfect these eyes for when I go to any store with Comme in it. Fuck exams.

Blazer is thrifted. Blouse and drop-crotch pants from H&M. Shoes are thrifted.

awesomenessmess

So, like, no words, except for



HI ANNA are you per chance Anna van Schurman and decided not to mention it? Proficient in 14 languages and UMFUCKYEAH is one of them? I would not be surprised. (I realize this would mean you were a zombie but that would make you, like, the coolestzombievur.)

But yeah. Let's just say I pulled a James Cromwell when I saw this and went

no. effin. way.

Oh my god, guys, I actually posted something. I got off of my sloth-y ass and posted something. Probably because I just remembered sloth as one of the seven deadly sins and realized if I didn't I would be burning in the fiery pits of hell for all of eternity (I just vividly imagined Satan in an internet cafe sipping a green tea latte browsing his favourite blogs and being all "I WANT AN OUTFIT POST MOTHERFUCKER")... so on the basis of my afterlife's status I decided to skip school (don't judge me) and play dress up (fine judge me but don't admit you're not jealous). I went biking around town too, but that is entirely besides the point. Because, you know, my blog posts always have a point. :/

I bought this shirt yesterday and it reminded me of pirates so I decided to dress up like (gasp) a pirate! Improvised an eye patch with an old bathing suit top I have. Yeah I realize the eye patch isn't on my face because, I'll be honest, eye patches scare the living estrogen out of me. But again, that is besides the non-existent point. 

I used my black scarf as a skirt. Seriously, every single person should own a black scarf, they are the Oxy Clean of fashion. I even contemplated using it as a shirt last week (don't ask how or why but it is living proof, man, living proof. The thing can be/do anything).

I'd like to sincerely thank the Tag for sticking out. Really. You mean so much to me and all four people who read this blog.

Honestly I have no idea why I put this up. Probably to show off my CHRISTMAS LIGHTS. Yeah it's June, keep walking.

Probably the worst close-up known to photography. This is what the shirt actually looks like on the website though, if your curiosity peeks your interest.

I look like such a nerd in this photo. Upon posting this Urkel is going to ring me up and ask me to be his friend.

This was what was underneath the scarf; a touch of lace peeking through. Ignore my unshaved legs, children. Sloth strikes again in the form of hygiene.

Pink shirt from Urban Outfitters, Roxy bathing suit top from God knows where, scarf from mom's closet, lace skirt from H&M, Doc Marten boots are thrifted, and glasses are 3D rims.

Hi sanity, hi!

Gonna make this a quick post for I have some majorzstudying to do right now. I drank coffee past 6pm today. When I said majorz I meant it.

Hi today's outfit! Hi versatile thrifted blazer slash cardigan slash love of life! Hi vintage scarf! Hi H&M drop crotch pants! Hi lazy outfit post!

Hi new vintage shoes!

Hi H&M ring!

Bye! What you thought I was going to say hi when I was to end this post? I'm no paradox! Hi paradox! (see what I did der)

What I'm seriously saying hello to is homework. But instead of a formal hello it's more like (enter vulgar crude comment here).

Epic Epicer Epicest

So today I went grad dress shopping in Toronto. We decided to hit the vintage stores first, some of which I had previously shopped at before and others of which I was essentially a virgin to. I was a bit unlucky regarding dresses in Courage My Love, a store in which I will probably rape with my debit card when I move here in September, but I found some shoes and earrings and conversed with the owner about epic, out-of-price-range rings from the outskirts of Turkey which he let me fondle/caress/molest (thank you, kind Sir, I hope I did not scar you too much). But I'm kind of straying from my point. With no dress in hand, we decided to venture a bit to the West side of the city to a store I had presumptuous doubts about but when I walked in and took a look around the room my knees slightly buckled. Slightly? I'm being modest.

The store I'm talking about is Cabaret, a vintage clothing boutique of two floors containing 1930s/40s/50s vintage clothing that were fucking amazing. The main floor is dedicated strictly to women's dresses. They were so stunning I (purposefully) forgot to check the price tags before trying them on. The man behind the counter thought he'd mention the second floor as my pupils started dilating and I thought I would remain sane but it was too late. I got downstairs and the knees buckled again. Can I even put this store into proper literary speak? Honestly I don't think so. All I can say is I now know what epic looks/smells/tastes like. Yes I said taste. DON'T JUDGE ME.

And apparently Bjork and Dita Von Teese shop here when they're in town. Just gets epicer and epicer, doesn't it? Literary speak can shove it, this store trumps my inability to convey adoration properly.

These are some of the pieces I saw/tried on and some that I was probably too late to witness single handedly their perfection. SHOVE IT LIT SPEAK, shove it uncomfortably far. Oh god that didn't make sense either, I'm just going to stop even trying.

This dress reminds me of Christopher Kane SS09.

PS. Feedback on new layout? The girl is supposed to screaming at the Paper or Plastic title by the by. Screaming from too much epic or too little posts? You decide.

PPS. HEY LIT SPEAK? THIS IS WHAT I THINK OF YOU.

[Picture removed as a result of diminishing dignity]

I should remind myself to not post dignity diminishing pictures at one in the morning. It just diminishes dignities. It also makes lit speak laugh a revengeful cackle. Yeah, well you better watch out, litty. It's always better served cold. Cold as a polar bear's uterus.

Alright that's it, I'm going to bed. I've ended a post about vintage boutiques by arguing with my literary skills. So essentially, I'm arguing with myself.