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summer is fucking romantic

The more time I spend on this hellsite, the more I find myself repeating the same thing over and over and OVER again. It's summer, cue the photos of me in a yellowing vintage dress eating strawberries crying in the middle of a wheat field!!

This year, however, I do have a minor twist on the yellowing dress and the strawberries and the wheat field. Enter: me a couple days ago, wishing I could buy a dress from Batsheva and live out all my feminine Little House On The Prairie fantasies. (Guess who doesn't have $400 to spend suddenly and unwisely? Most of us, including me.) But then I was like, wait, I could literally just get some actual vintage calico 70's dresses for way cheaper and still look super fucking cool. And I could take pictures wearing them whilst standing around my very overgrown suburban neighborhood. And it could be a  c o n c e p t .

So here's that concept for you all. Hopefully I'll do some more shoots before school starts in August, but we'll see. I've been working a lot lot lot at a customer service job, saving money for the ultimate goal of Moving to a Big Metropolitan Area and Convincing Some Unsuspecting Fashion Company to Pay Me a Living Wage. A pipe dream, I know.

Photos by me, except the last 3 which were done by my friend Keith, who is great. Shot my Canon D600 and an 18-135mm lens. Special thank you to Casaday Costume for the dresses.

Minimalism? maybe?


As much as I love categorizing literally everything, my defining and boxing expertise deeply lacks when it comes to my own personal style. Which is like, super lame. What's more fun than defining and boxing yourself??

When I was a very very young(er) blogger human this kinda stressed me out. My style was not just a singular Thing: one day I would be super girly and wear exclusively baby pink, and the next I would dress like an evil psychopath goth schoolgirl (probably induced from too many viewings of Heathers). I loved grunge and over-the-top maximalism, but I also loved 90's minimalism, too (I still drool over the iconic Corinne Day shoot with Kate Moss). I worshipped Alexander McQueen's beautiful, creative, in-your-face silhouettes and loved Calvin Klein's clean-cut lines. You see my problem.

Now I'm more okay to not be defined at all. Most of the time when people ask, I say my style is "very feminine", "weird and unexpected" or "chameleon-ish". If anyone in the audience of 1.45 people have a good definition of my overall style, I'm all ears. Until then, I guess I'll keep trying out all my favorite categories of style—I would say these pictured above specifically lean towards "minimalism", but who knows. Tomorrow I'll probably be a maximalist again and wear 3 skirts over a pair of pants. Boom. Fa-shun.

Dream dress by Helmut Lang. Socks from Amazon, shoes are vintage.

All photos shot by me with my Canon D600 and an 18-135mm lens.

How to repurpose your prom dress

Ahh, prom. The pubescent mating ritual that millions of beautiful, makeupped youths partake in every year has been and forever will be one of my favorite bits of The American Experience™. Not because I actually had a lot of fun at my proms—yes, proms, I went multiple times—but because it's really just one of those things that is so distinct to being a high schooler in America. Maybe this is just me, desperately grasping at an "American culture" that doesn't really exist outside of cheeseburgers and institutionalized racism, but hey! I still think prom is funny, and it makes wonderful fodder for poignant short stories about the loss of innocence or whatever. I looked forward to prom SO much before I got into high school, mostly because I was really hoping it would be as magical and Gunne Sax-filled as the prom scene in The Virgin Suicides. In fact, it was not. They didn't play "Come Sail Away", not even once, and Kirsten Dunst wasn't there (I think). I'm still glad I went.

Another prom szn has come and gone, and looking at all my younger relatives being shipped off in their limos to have one of the most stereotypical high school experiences of all time is making me NOSTALGIC! And also it makes me want to WEAR PROM DRESSES AGAIN! Yes, they inevitably still smell like teen dreamz and college rejection letters and maybe some vomit from the after party, but they can 100% be worn again in a non-prom context. How? Watch and learn.

1. Wear it over jeans à la Molly Goddard

Every day when I wake up, I ask myself the same question: WWMGD? (What Would Molly Goddard Do?) The answer is she would cover everything in tulle and pink and pretty flounces, and wear it unabashedly over normal clothes. So I strive to do the same, goddamnit!

2. Wear it over your work clothes and confuse the shit out of your boss

Mixing womenswear and menswear is always so fun and I do it a lot. I especially love the idea that someone would show up to work in normal Office Clothes but then have their prom dress on WITH the Office Clothes!! And like, yeah, maybe this isn't the most plausible way to repurpose a prom dress. But whatever. Do it anyways. You probably won't get fired. Probably.

3. Put a turtleneck under it and wear it to da club

Fun fact, I bought this bag specifically to wear into clubs, because it is basically drunk-proof, i.e. it snaps shut AND it has a zipper. So my stuff can't fall out, no matter how much I'm dancing. No I-party-too-much-and-have-an-irreconcilably-cracked-iPhone for me! Nope!!

But yeah, a lot of people's prom dresses are easy to dress down, too, especially if it's a really simple sheath one (like the one below). If it's too long, you can always take it to a seamstress and get it hemmed so it can be worn to more casual events.

4. Wear it to another formal event, for fuck's sake

I know this is making it look like I just ran out of ideas by the end of the shoot, but uh, hello! Prom dresses CAN be worn to other events! They're formal dresses! And thank god, there are more formal events in a lifetime besides for prom. We can all stop pretending that we have bottomless bank accounts and just wear. The same. Thing. Twice.

Look 1: Vintage prom dress, vintage shirt, Madewell jeans, vintage heels.
Look 2: Vintage coat and shirt, vintage dress, Topshop pants, Coach heels.
Look 3: Vintage dress, Zara heels and bag.
Look 4: Vintage dress and bag, Céline heels.

All photos shot by me with my Canon D600 and an 18-135mm lens.

Turn Off Your TV!


Wearing cute things in summer is hard because I dislike being sweaty and fashionable at the same time. Mostly when I'm having a casual day of reading and drinking iced coffee (my ultimate summer goal), I wear basically the most skimpy and floaty thing possible, because I just cannot be bothered to try and look all weird and funky.

This is where very key things like bright colored one-pieces or body suits come in handy, along with sheer floaty dresses. I look cool but I only have 1.5 items of clothing on!! What a concept. And wearing brightly colored lipstick as eyeshadow is never a bad idea, either.

Also this swimsuit is definitely about 2x too small for me but they only had this size left. And it looks real good on me.

Swimsuit is ASOS, dress is vintage, jewelry is vintage, sandals are Tevas.

Photos shot by me with my Canon D600 and an 18-135mm lens.

lumps and bumps


Silhouette—that sneaky bastard—has always been a huge factor in how I dress myself, as well as how I see myself. It's funny to think that such a simple thing as a shape, the shape of your human body, can affect your life so profoundly.

Recently I've become very conscious of my clothing decisions. I asked myself a simple question: why do I dress like this? Why have I decided to put these particular pieces of cloth onto my body? I observed how I love to change and warp my own shape, not just adorn my body and make it look beautiful, but actually play dress up with form: adding layers and textures, hiding my legs under billowing fabrics, blurring my waistline, becoming formless. For me (and many other women), this is an easy escape from the pressures of that all-important Society, dictating who we are. Namely, we are just a body, and that body is the only asset we have. (Influence from my binge-watching The Handmaid's Tale is palpable here.) We must be sexually appealing Or Else. Our bodies must look like one very specific type of body Or Else. We must dress to please the man Or Else. Et cetera.

Ultimately I can't change the body that I'm in, and I can't un-hear Society's constant blaring on the loudspeaker, no matter how many times I try to block it out. But I can take control over my silhouette and change it briefly—whether with a long tulle skirt, or an oversized dress, or with a popcorn shirt purchased from Salvation Army (pictured above). I've always wanted to push the envelope with dress and form, challenge the traditional woman's silhouette and smash it to pieces. I think I first learned this from none other but Rei Kawakubo, who is basically like my fashion mom. I don't remember the exact moment that I first saw pictures of her 1997 Body Meets Dress, Dress Meets Body collection, but it's been in the forefront of my dealings with shape and silhouette ever since.

I guess I feel as if I have to explain to people (and myself) why I dress this way. After all, it's more difficult to do, and it can lead to awkward questions, i.e. "why do you love wearing ugly clothes" or "why can't you just dress normally". But dressing myself is very deeply tied to my emotional state, my insecurities, and my beliefs. Covering my body and changing the shape of it—wearing things that do not fit into the category of "traditionally attractive"—is my own personal form of rebellion. Because I own my body; this silhouette is mine. I can do whatever I want with it, regardless of what anyone thinks. 
Shirt from Salvation Army, pants are vintage, purse is vintage Coach (gifted to me by my aunt), shoes are Doc Marten's.

Comme des Garçons photos from Vogue. All other photos shot by me with my Canon D600 and an 18-135mm lens.

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