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I won't die a virgin

Here it is, my commemorative end-of-summer post -- a sequel to the last post about summer, continuing my creepy obsessive way of categorizing everything -- and those who have read my blog for these 1000 years that it has been in existence know this end-of-summer routine very, very well. The Virgin Suicides, iconography, long dresses, crying in your room, the hot honey golden type of heat, etc etc. We get it, Meagan! You're fucking obsessed with being a vestal virgin-type bitch! Why don't you just watch Picnic At Hanging Rock on a loop and get a Sappho-themed tattoo and leave us in peace?!!

And, darling readers, that's all good and true. I WISH I could leave you in peace, as much as I wish I could get a Sappho-themed tattoo without being ridiculed by my evil, judgmental peers. But I couldn't resist my yearly tradition of going out into a damn field, wearing a damn beautiful romantic 70's dress, and taking some damn pictures of myself. Sorry!! Maybe next year I'll give it up. Maybe. We'll see.  (You're just lucky that this time i'm not eating strawberries or some shit.)

All collage photos sourced from my Pinterest.

All photos shot by me on a self timer with my canon d600 and an 18-135mm lens.

Special thank you to cassady costume for lending me the dress.

Hyper féminin

Hello from Paris!!

I've been here for almost two weeks visiting my friend (the lovely Clothilde) and it's been great, obviously, because like, Paris. We've gone to a TON of museums, sat in a million parks, and walked around for hours and hours. Yes, I am in heaven.

Since I am so close to French culture and I'm constantly visiting this damned country / speaking this damned language, I thought I would do a lil post about French style, highlighting Paris specifically. Parisian style is world renowned for being chic and beautiful, looking amazing without even trying, having a few key classic pieces, etc. Quilted Chanel bags and Réalisation are fine and good, obviously, but they're quite boooooring just on their own. And I still think the root of French style is a beautiful, classic femininity dating to Pompadour and earlier. (Coco Chanel is probably rolling in her grave-- whatever, she was a nazi anyways.)

I mentioned femininity briefly in one of my previous posts -- basically, I am a Huge Fan of the over-the-top femininity in fashion, as exhibited by like, this whole fucking blog -- but some of my favorite examples recently are duh, Molly Goddard  (especially when Suzie Bubble wears her, oh my god), also that Miu Miu collection that basically changed my life. I wanted to bring these sorts of elements back to Parisian style.

So here's me, making a fool of myself and freaking out all the french mamies who were just trying to get their morning baguette, for god's sake.
((Thanks to Clothilde for the pictures and also 99% percent of the clothes!!!))

Look 1: All vintage / thrifted
Look 2: All vintage / thrifted
Look 3: All vintage / thrifted except the jeans which are Zara
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