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I won't die a virgin

8.15.2017
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.


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