And I Think To Myself What A Wonderful Day...

 

Excuse the granny hands.

Putting your sunglasses in front of the camera lens works much, much better.

Dress: Hand Me Down/ Thrift Store

Bracelets: own

Magic Heels: Stolen From Mum

Socks: Forever 21

Where to begin... where to begin..

Krystel here has had a magical idea, so magical that its coated with orange petunias, baby powder, glitter and blessed with the kiss of a nearby faerie. We have taken the greatest pleasure of presenting you the

Magical Idea:

No offense to you Forever 21, but, to your greater economic relief, half of my closet is probably one way or another F21. Its not your fault you have such accessories that make me swoon or that that red skirt keeps winking my way, the fault belongs only to me, the savvy spender. The deal is that it is so easy to find another girl/guy/ horse wearing my complete outfit that it made me realize: Holdee there cowgirl. Where have you gone? Where are you? You've been consumed and no longer are the lass who used to prance around in uncoordinated prints, colors, shoes, and spoons. I am in the point of my dressing life where I, instead of wearing whatever my cruddy mind pleases, dress to impress. Not even to impress myself, but to impress other. And seriously who the f-bomb am I trying to impress? Why am I even trying to?

        Picking an outfit in the morning no longer brings that certain spark I used to get when grabbing at the multitude of accessories splayed in front of me, instead I am COLOR COORDINATING the rosy tint of the necklace to the button or some mediocre little thing. Gah, I feel like I'm on the freaking olden times for the strict way I am upholding my way of dressing. Oh dare I make the mistake of wearing red striped shoes instead of the perfectly matching sky blue with a hint of green flats. Off to the guillotine you go.

         So its basically just me who is in this tar pitted funk, sucking me in as I outstretch a matching neutral bracelet-clad arm upwards. I compare myself to mannequins for Prada's sake! Why can't O dress like that? Okay, what the hell is going on in there, cause it needs to come to a halt.

          So by the mere mention of F21 it seems that I am like "It Ruined My Life" sob story, but its not, because lord, that store's sense of wonderfulness rings and eleven dollared skirts bring me to multiple fits of dancing. Its just that I should really tone down the amount of shopping I do there. Not just there, but the entire mall. Just for a while, so I can actually challenge myself with clothing. Try different stuff, branch myself out, just looking for IT, the style that is me, not some other girl I don't even now.

Doesn't mean I'll ban the accessories though, my fingers would have to suffer the winter naked if it weren't to Forever 21, just level myself and my spending tendencies.

I haven't posted for a while (suprise, surprise) and have a bunch of outfits to photograph, so stick around and I''l serve you some delactosed milk and bananas. If your not allergic, of course.