With Lead Fingers Marking The Way

Men's Button Fancy Shirt: Salvation Army
Knitted Top: Swap Meet
Floral Skirt: Some Random Store...
Timberland Boots: Er.. The Timberland Store.. (Christmas Sales, Anyone?)
Pink Lace-ish Dress Underneath: Downtown L.A.

          I have a slight suspicion that I might be slightly bipolar when it comes to my wardrobe. I vary from looking like the flower child on some hippie's wedding to Dracula's biggest fan with all my black to a crayon-loving preschooler  from one moment to the the other.
          Maybe it's the fact that most of my clothes have taken residence on my bedroom floor, but everyday I want to push my boundaries out of the way and try some new idea out, no matter how bizarre it might sound in my head. I don't want to live in a filtered world where my comfort zone restrain me from ever seeing things through different windows. I want to jump at the chance of experiencing my own style, not turning something down because it might be too weird or earn me some glares. What I am trying to say is, I wanna taste a little bit of every meal, before deciding on my absolute favorite platter. (If that makes any sense at all?) I could marry and make an ode to the color black, yet I  also love the delicate touches the right pink lace can bring to an outfit. I love looking like I just assaulted the paints & glitter isle, but I do like to inhabit my Deadhead shirt once in a while. I admire the laid-back style of others, and still have my passionate love for those who try out the alternative route into a world of wild individuality.
        For me, choosing what to wear each morning is just like those days when you were little and always changed your job aspiration." I wanna be an astronaut. I wanna be just like Mrs.CaringTeacher." Instead, my hazy thoughts are more in the "Dude, you know what would rad? If you went for a Florist By Day/ Extra-Terrestrial  By Night type of orphan." Doesn't make much sense to me either, but , the outcomes are something, um, very nice-looking-ish. I even set the mood by listening to certain CDs or dwelling on certain "themes". I listened to the The Kinks' Village Green Preservation Society on the morning of this outfit, what a wonderful, wonderful album to get dressed to.


Open Up Your Mind And Let Me Step Inside

Shirt: Downtown L.A
Polka Dot Dress(Worn As Very Puffy Skirt): Forever 21
Bow & Trash Skirt:: Crafted By This Lass Right Here
Shark Earring: Mummy Made
Elovelovelov Necklace: Er,ISorta"Borrowed"ItFromMySister.

Oh, Windy Days. Oh, Windy Days I Were Thee With a Trash Bag:

            I am the sort of individual who finds ways to get distracted very easily. For an art assigment, I was supposed to construct a trash bag backpack, but, when my eyes landed on that shiny, dark plastic, I couldn't pass on the opportunity of treating myself to a plastic skirt. I mean, helloooo, what's better than looking as if you are ready to be chucked in the garbage bin?  I am sure I'll make the back pack sometime later (read: the night beore the project is due), but, as of right now, I am perfectly happy with the rustling noises my skirt makes when I move across the silent classroom. (On the downside, I am sure I fucked up my sewing machine.)
             On the day I originally wore this, it was the kind of windy that makes you wish you weren't wearing a plastic skirt. Making my way through campus, I had to keep one hand on the front and the other one nearing my rear end to keep it from smacking some poor, unsuspecting sixth grader on the face, which made it seem like some sort of eccentric sexual gesture. Trash Bags are serious business, I tell ya... They have enough power to to force you into chasing after them if you've mad the decision to wear them.

              Lesson Learned: Trash Bags make an awesome clothing material and will protect you against rain or unexpected splatters of paint, but not if the wind nears the 40 mph mark.
                    I tried recreating the love I once had for everything Disney related, but it seems only my mind was able to make the connection. How come Minnie gets kick-ass bloomers AND a polka dot dress? Is it because she is the shit at Disney? Well, I am pretty famous too..... on the small planet called : My Cranium.

                                           (I still love you Minnie; it's Mickey I don't agree with.)

                                                                  BowLess Couple


Hey, You Look SuperMegaFoxyAwesomeHot Today.

Teal Dress: 50 Cent Salvation Army
Mustard Skirt: Forever 21
"Fruit Saleslady" Semi- Sequined Jacket: Thrifted

               I am not the world's best thinker at 5 in the morning. I am not even the world's most coordinated person at that hour since I always end up tripping past the toilet and into the bath tub.
             So like perhaps every other human on the planet, there are mornings in which I wake up ready to chuck my alarm at the wall, and lack the desire to get out of the coccoon that is my bed. On normal, happy, upbeat days, I carefully arrange my outift and shimmy in and out of clothes looking for the look of the day. Days like yesterday result in me dressing up into some sort of "Big Bird's Acid Loving Cousin" contoction. Perhaphs those are the days that I enjoy my outfits the most, because when I look at myself after first period, I can't not stop shaking from laughter. I might look like an overgrown flower uprooted from its pot, but, hey, it's, um, interesting...
              SO MUCH COLOR!! Pardon me, I just had to let that outburst be. I would have worn my clear purple thights if it weren't fo the fact that , although its freaking WINTER, the weather in my town was a hot, reeking of adolesence, sweaty type of warm. Mother Nature, once again, what's up? Look, I'm even wearing flowers to support you, just keep the winter cold. I love the days when I look like a crayola-eating child downloaded its technicolor contents on me, although it makes me look like I dressed on the dark, which is exactly what I was doing with my eyes sleepily half-shut.
              Let's just say I was lucky to not be attacked by the sea gulls and pigeons that crowd my school; God forbid they might have mistaken me for the Fruit Specialty Of the Day.



Lace-Button Down Shirt & Animal Head Rings: H&M (purchase under $10!)
New Old Black Pants: 50 cent thrift store (Tailored by the girl in the picture)
High Heeled Shoes: Swap-Meet
Awkward-Shoulder Shirt: Downtown L.A.
Faux-Deathly Hallow Ring: Forever 21
OHMY-ISTHATREALLY? Clock Bag: Stupidiotic

Tick. Tock. Okay, so I was browsing though the Big Bear Stupidiotic store, and, amidst the black toilet paper and DVD rewinder, I found the solution to my chronic "Dude, do you know the time?"-itis. A Bag. With A Working Clock! Ironically enough, I still find myself asking others for the time when wearing it, must be a force of habit or somethings. It's not like I might be missing a few brain cells or anything.. Pfft. Me? yeah, well I fall a lot! Troughout the school day, people kept asking me if it really did work, saying how it was cool and all, maybe made fun, asked for the time (Real funny guys..), but the best part of the day was when people followed this reaction:
"Cool Bag. What the fuck? I can't tell the time like that..." I think I do like school.

       The bag is actually red, a "HEY! Look, I Have A Clock Bag!" type of red, but I felt going the Matrix way today and decking out my dark spy clothing. I felt like I was ditching out on a misson somewhere in the dungeons of the Atlantic Ocean floor to review tangent and cosine in school. Or be Doctor Who's next sidekick... See, I already own a time bag, and I bet I could make a time butt-hugger jeans, and time muff ears to go with it! Can I come with? I did always wanted to see Amelia Earhart for myself.... Maybe time bags aren't a good idea for me I'm already going looney.


Accept My Technicolor Candy, After All, I'm But A Stranger

Blue, Darling Blue, How I miss thy greenish tone in my ever-shortening hair. Why did I dye it pink again? Oh, yeah, I thought it seemed like a "good idea". Note: Don't Trust Self On Rash Decisions
"Maintenance Department, we have an accesory overload on Aisle 3. Immediate actions must be aken. Repeat, immediate action."
Pink HeadFlower & Orange Watch: F21
Owl Necklace: Birthday Gift
"Pearl" & Caged Bird Necklace: Self-made (Okay, I just put the string in it)
Bracelet Band: Gift From Sister (Hippie Park)
Mustard Cardigan: Downtown L.A.
Pink Socks: H&M
Hostess & Co. Pins: Hollywood Shop
Other Pins: Hippie Park
Spoon (Red) Pin: Handmade!
Plated Polka Dot Skirt & Aqua Blazer: Thrifted
Shirt: Mummie's Hand-Me-Down
Boots: Wal-Mart

          Most of my days, my head is obstructed by a wide-brimmed dark hat, unabling to see any outfit choice outside the Dark and Brooding color spectrum, but once I do surface and open my eyes to the Rainbow Syndrome of Everything That Is Bright and Radiating, I make sure to come out with goodie bags. In the beginning of middle school, I used to integrate every color ever though of in on single outit, along with prints, layers, juicebag bows, and lollipop accesories. God forbid, I walked out of the house without me wearing different-colored shoes or pairing my red plaid shir with my blue corduroy skirt and orange thights, cause we all know that combination is the shit, here and on the other planets. In the midsts of the Twilight craze, I strutted into school with my floral cape emblazoned with felt letters "Team Neville" and a small puff-paint drawing on what I hoped looked like a toad, DIY-ed Bellatrix Lestrange Shirt (controversial, eh?), and the ever-present spoons in my hair. I miss those days. I sincerely didn't care whether people laughed at me or made snide remarks about my style of choice. I was happy lost in my world of Crayola Boxes, Beatle Adorations, and unusual spurts of creativity. I shall honor those days of glee and I-don't-give-a-fack-ness with no more thoughts on those who wish to put others down in favor of squashing what is unique and dear to us.
         (Picture of Me From Over A Year Ago).... WHY DID I CUT MY HAIR?! Was I too much of a stubborn nincompoop to not fully comprehend that it looked fine and curly by itself? Apparently since here I stand, freezind my unprotected ears off. Note To Self: Smack Self.
         You can't really seet it, but the bow I'm wearing was constructed out of a Cayola Box by my black-nailed fingers.

That Zombie Thing Isn't Really Scheduled For 2011, Right?

             Happy Beginning Of The Year! I don't have any fireworks to offer, will this handsome piece of odd-smelling candle suffice? What says "Happy New Year, Let's Hope There's No Zombie Invasion/ Human Apocalypse Any Day Soon" better than a wee candle?
           Determined to live up to my ravenous party animal rep, I did what every other lively teenager with an amibtion to fire up the night would do on the one occasion getting shitfaced is completely normal: Watch Toy Story 3, stuff the grapehole with grapes, watch endless Youtube videos, and get dressed up for it. Okay, so I wasn't shimmying my boa-draped shoulders to the sounds of a 2010 Farewell rave or groping it up with a lovedove in an euphoric state, but getting irrationaly angered over the fact that Lotso the demonic bag of strawberry-scented excrement didn't help the other toys out even though Woody and Buzz risked their lives to save his nasty ass is just as hip and filled with adrenaline kicks as kissing the year away in Las Vegas Blvd. My sister cruised the nights of Paris; I cruised the movie-selection piles. On the bright side, I am now the proud know-er of a good portion of Queen songs!
Small Trolley "San Francisco" Bag & Liz Clairbone Tan Bag: Thrift Store
Earrings: Nana's Loving Present To Me
Dragonfly Necklace: Forever 21
Elephant Charm: Came Off A F21 Necklace
Eiffel Tower Charm: Ripped Off A Las Vegas Key Chain
HeadBand & Other Necklace: Ahem.. Sister Please Don't Kill Me
"Pearl" and Ribbon: Materialized by me
Unseen Boots: Thrifted
Dress: Foreign Exchange

                Despite the fact that I spent the night in the confined arms of chairs and the couch, I couldn't resist breaking out my delicate dress from my very organized closet (To be politically and morally correct, the terms apocalytic chaos of a bedroom floor are more liable for accuracy.) and putting it on, along with accesories not even required for couch sitting. The phrase "All dressed up and nowhere to go" couldn't have been more fitting, and I couldn't have cared less. Who needs a reason to feel good? If I were to dress up exclusively for only the most exciting days of my life, I would definitely be chomping on some heads by now.
Who knows what the day will bring you? Life itself is an exiciting-enough fact to whip your Mary Janes out and deck yourself out in that flowered jumpsuit you've been dying to wear. I opt to dress the way I choose to, because, in my eyes, if I think I look dashing, that's all that matters. No need to wait for some spectacular reason to come throwing rocks at my window to get me up and scurry over my closet. Whether its a cloudless sky or showers of rain worthy of Europe's approval, it could turn out to be an exciting day, ranging from pirate encounters to an encounter with the your idol or someone telling you they like your outfit to the the unthinkable, and I'll be glad I dressed for it. Sure, there's a chance the only adrenaline rush you get that day is induced from the obligatory mile run in P.E., but then again, extraoridinary things have been to known to occur in ordinary days.
As for that traditional New Year's Kiss? Let's just say, I've got that peck under my wing.