In your pants

 Look at the tiny metal horse. I was never one to ride horses (imagine short me falling off of those moving, pooping skycrapers they call horses), but this creature and its weird dog tail had me at $1.50.

An oversized, black hat can make anybody feel like Lydia Deetz, which is why I practiced my faux-photographical poses.

Knitted shirt: swap meet

Old lady pants: thrift store

Holographic eye glasses: downtown l.a.

Belt and adorable horse knecklace: forever 21

               The sensation of pants covering my legs has become foreign to me. Wearing skirts and shorts even during the most insufferable weather has been my own little (dumb) rebellion for so long that people are genuinely surprised when I wear pants. I only have around 2 pairs of pants that I really like wearing, and those    have been worn for so long that their death is not too far away. You know what that means? I must devote my days to finding (or creating) pants that will be so awesome I will want to wear them from sleep to school to weddings and Hollywood parties other casual occasions. Yep, they will be THAT awesome. Are leather pants too cool? 

               In the probable case of a failed mission, I will just have to get used to a future full of funky tights and flowing skirts, which, to tell you the truth, sounds fine by me. I have no problem living the bare-legged life, but if I do end up with one marvelous pair, I'll probably throw a one-woman celebration party in my room.

Galileo, Figaro, Magnificoooo

Am I the only one who wishes to send love letters to Freddie Mercury and send cat clocks to him?

Skirt: crudely sewn by me

Butterfly shirt: Forever 21

Star Wars Belt: thrifted

Various Braceletd: found in bedroom floor

                  There's two things life (among many others) that I am obsessed with: Freddie Mercury and geeky accesories/clothing. The Star Wars belt, as seen previously on other posts, is just the beginning to my ever-growing collection of "nerdy" objects in my life. If I see something remotely geeky and adorable ( AND CHEAP) at the thrift store, I fall in love with it and tell it a bedtime story. Well, maybe not to that extent, but let's just say I become quite attached to it. So attached in fact that it is possible that I wear the object in question every weekend until it breaks. Yeah, my beloved belt broke and now I am here to mourn it. But that's a thing of the past, let's focus on the true point to this belated post: Freddie Mercury, the man of my dreams.

                  Freddie's birthday was some 2 weeks ago, and I had a post all planned out, but never got around to posting it,because, to put it bluntly, it sucked. It didn't really express what I've been wanting to write about him, and it bothered me because that often happens in my post. My mind comes up with the most brilliant thoughts and phrases, but, once my fingers hit the keyboard, my sentences resemble the ones an overcaffeinated kindergardner might come up with. Basically, what I wanted to say is Freddie is a huge inspiration to me and I seriosuly love the man. No need for well-structured sentences or big words to express how much inspiration I draw from him and his tight-one suits.

If I murder my alarm clock, will I get put into a time prison?

 An accurate picture of how I look most days before (and during) school.

Let's pretend I actually look like some eccentric model instead of the pubescent little weirdo that I am.

Loong Shirt: Diy-ed by me

Star Wars Belt: Thrift Store (Where else?)

Awesome T-Strap Flats: downtown l.a.

Freaky Drunk glasses: Dollar tree

Clock bag: Stupidiotic

                 Have you ever woken up in the wee hours of the morn with a huge desire to go on a DIY rampage? The other morning, I decided that spending my morning time destroying a gigantic shirt was more productive than digging in the pile of clothes for an hour or so. Plus, I felt like being a lazy student that day, and had no energy to look for something more "put-together". (I also happen to immensely love cutting up enormous men shirts.) It's quite hard to see from the pictures, but the shirt's basically got a square cut-out down the front with sheer fabric covering it and squared studs lining its pocket (the shirt has a pocket, isn't that dandy?)
                   . Do any of you have those lazy days where all you want to do is stay at home and just read or do something extremely boring? Now that I am back in school, I wish I'd slept some more during the vacations. I think I hate mornings more than ever. At least there's crack of dawn doses of diy-ing to keep me alive....

a jolly green hobbit

bag: Aldo's tag? sister's. only used for photographic purposes 

Shirt: l.a

shorts: thrift store

belt: beautiful present from nana

bracelets: borrowed

rings: F21 & belt loop

                     Belts, what a beautiful creation, nein? According to the ever trusty Wikipedia page, the belt's primary purpose was for decorative reasons. Cinching of the waist was very hip even back in the military days of the first World War. They served as a fashion statement AND were useful as well. Exactly the same reason  I have been using the chained, golden belt almost every day for the past three weeks. My beautilful nana found it while thrifting, but, once she saw my gleaming eyes gaze longingly at it, she gifted it to me. Family, is by far, one of the best things in life. Especially if said family members enjoy thrifting as much as you do. I am a devoted belt-lover, and thoroughly enjoy discovering 1 dollar, glitterful ones. Any kind of belt is the best, especially those bottle-cap ones the hippies in the park sell.

                        I hadn't realized how festive and Christmas-y I looked until one of my friends pointed out the jolly factor of my outfit. Seriously, I didn't trealize how green this "teal" shirt actually is, but that's allright cause it matches my hair. And who doesn't love looking absolutely merry in the middle of summer?

I am such a cow. *

Pink Floyd Shirt: thifted

Mooo Skirt ( Does my high level of maturity surprise?): Self-made

  

             Hallo, fellow humans and the like. Isn't it a marvelous thing, this goofing around with clothes business? Why must we take clothes so seriously, when it is by far more fun to twirl around, laughing uncontrollably over how ridiculous your skirt looks. Or pants, I fully support the notion of funky pants, too. I am so incredibly used to sticking to my safe side and just wearing dark clothes that today I decided to slowly come a wee bit out of my secure farmhouse and wear one of my favorites skirt in this vast world. Yeah, I know my outfit isn't very revolutionary or anything, but, goddess, does this skirt make me smile. I feel as if I am part of this big hilarious joke in which my skirt is the pun. Like I have no need to take everything, as I usually do, so seriously. I took the bus to visit family today, and some people gave me funny stares, but it was all allright, because I was too busy eating grass to really milk the situation over. I guess not taking clothes and trends and whatnot for granted is what I like about "fashion". You just sort of go with what feels right to you. Whether you chose something because it gives you the giggles or you are channeling some grooving vibes, doesn't matter, you still somewhat mesh a little bit of you with something so simple as fabric.       ( I might have gone too scissor-happy when cutting the skirt,though.)

*Is it a little dorky to admit that I wore that skirt to make cow-related funnies?

Mischief Managed

Shirt: DIY (lots of bleach and  iron-on paper transfers)

Tights: Swap-Meet

Sparkly Black Shoes (not shown): Randon Strip Store

                      Does it seem as if Harry Potter is everywhere nowadays, or is it only me? Harry Potter is, to use Ron's choice of word, "brilliant". In a lone corner in a yardsale, I found a book that would forever make an impact on my young life; it's name was Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. I knew of the movies of course, but had absolutely no idea how much of a thrill this book would bring to my life. It didn't matter that my English wasn't the greatest; the book sucked me right into the middle of perilous adventures one can only imagine of. I befriended the characters, learned from the lessons, hexed the evil, and cried* as the characters I loved were snatched away from me and the "Golden Trio".Book by book, I discovered secrets about the mysteries and myself. Who would I be now if I hadn't solemnly sworn to be up to no good with Gred and Feorge and follow in the (bare) footsteps of a dreamy, raddish-earringed Luna? Ron, Hermione, and Harry are one of my closest friends. It bothers me that people have suddenly gone all "oh, it's the end. This is it, Harry no more", for the stories and adventures will always be there for us, captured in the cracked spines of tear-streaked books and scratched DVDs.

*I actually cried. Fer real, yo. Tonight in the midnight viewing, I did quite the amount of silent crying that my (HARRY POTTER SPECS) 3D glasses got a bit streaky. I hate it when people, fictional or non-fictional, die. Contrary to "popular" (read: tumblr) belief, my tears weren't caused by the so-called "end" of Harry Potter: they were running down my cheeks cause--------------- I won't say why because I loathe it when people go ahead and spoil the movie for others.

What time is it?

 Time to pretend I'm a glittery, poofy fish.

Dress: Mother's F21

Glitter, Glitter Skirt; Handmade Gift  From Nana

                     Hey, everybody, IT'S SUMMER. Just in case you hadn't noticed the tortorous heat or sunburnt bodies, I am here to give you the unofficial official welcome. Okay, so a couple of weeks might have passed since summer really begun, but I've been so deep into my "lazing-around-the-house" mode that I rarely notice when the sun sets because I am barely ressurecting from my slumber by that time. Oh god, I sound like the world's best-performing sloth, but SLEEP IS PRECIOUS, and I don't get enough of it during the school year so it's all cool, pals. 

                     Apart from sleeping and stalking the interwebz, I've been wondering about the meaning of life. No, not really. I've been thinking about bursting through my little bubble of "comfort and giving a care as to what everybody else thinks". So I dressed as a wanna-be mermaid. Or a humanoid fish. Yeah, not my most covincing get-up, but, as a kid, did you ever wanted be a mermaid (or merman) and be able to swim for hours without surfacing for a breath of air? Pretending to be magical creatures was by far one of the best parts of my childhood. That and Disneyland trips and Tamgotchis. Maybe thats why I am so moody as a teenager. I no longer play around with the idea of becoming myself, and instead prefer to play the ever-boring game of "Going With the Flow". I might not who my self really is, but maybe a few more round of funky dress-ups will help define a smaller part of me: my style (or lack of style). Or I could bop from character to character, trying out different versions of myself. After all, why must we define everything?

                  ( For now, I will just be happy with wearing shiny blue skirts. Glittery fabrics and glitter in general are my personal source of happiness. I spent so much of my time prancing around in all black outfits that when I see clashing colors, mesmerizing prints, and spurts of glitter, I go berserk. The ecstatic, jolly type of berserk, not the trigger-happy manic one.)

Hyperventilation is expected.

         Have you ever encountered that wild feeling that comes with finding something you know is absolutely perfect for you? Like a love-at-first-sight type of euphoria, except less cheesy because it's just such an awesome little thing. Some might say getting excited over clothes and the like to be a bit materialistic, but I NEED THIS MATERIAL IN MY LIFE. 

Sure, a different color would be fantastic, but, I like love them so much that their angel color would suffice.* 

        
       Alas, this Jeremy Scott for Adidas beauty is no longer. Sold out, or something. I'll probably go sit under my desk now, but no worries. It's not like my dreams of being Hermes for a day were crushed or anything. Nothing major. But you know what this brutal kick to my dreams means? DIY-ification to cure the soul.

I am not sure where this is from, but if you know, help,? Please?

         Do these colors amaze or do they amaze? I bet wearing them are equally exciting as having squids partying on your feet, which is completely the case. Gold glitter bounceas at your every step, leaving a trail of glitter crumbs for fellow partying-squid-shoes wearers to follow. Why am I wasting my days on the internets and not pursuing my aspiration to become a shoemaker (cobbler? cordwainer?)?


*My family believes the Hermes shoes to be quite ugly. I mean if they were black or cream or pale pink or some other color watching my limited wardrobe, they would be even godlier than they already are.

Cue the soundtrack music and hit play.

Perhaps the geekiest poster in my room. Apart from the Harry Potter ones... and my "school achievement" garb.

Hai, Dirty Room.

Hai, Harrison.

Shirt: Own

Sailor Skirt: F21

Tailored "Beetlejuice" Jacket: Downtown L.A.

Glitter Flats: Target Sale

Ribbon Thingie: er, Walmart?

Flower Purse: DIY ☺

                        Perhaps I've never mentioned it before, but, I am quite the rebel around here. My badass qualities are too numerous include in a single blog post, but among the shenanigans I'm up to as of current include: spray painting (purse and shoes), sleeping at 4 am (reading books), and watching horror films (read: sleeping through Hannibal). You should be terrified of me, or you run the risk of being glittered down to the floor by my ultraviolet eyes (I need glasses). Okay, so I might be more of a DIY geek than a "Rebel Without A Cause", but it doesn't matter 'cause I DID SOMETHING TOTALLY PRODUCTIVE AND NON-SLOTH-LIKE. The pain of the summer that hasn't even started was quickly transforming me into some sort of tan puddle of pure boredom, so I pleaded my mother for some cans of paint to put me out of the forsaken misery. Long story short, I found an old, ripping, flower-shaped jewelry box and sprayed the color out of that thing, thus providing me with the accessory I am now sure I can't live without. I mean, it's black and flower shaped!

                        I will carry on the will to DIY, for I have fond many things in the intra webs I am diying to try (see what I did thurrr?). Like painting my very own fake Docs'cause I have absolutely no cash to invest in an original pair. Or making a beautiful heart bag out of latex and wire, like the one I've drooled over in the Nanny.

Zzzzz...

Black Dress & Lace Socks: F21

Uneven Chiffon Skirt: Self-Made

Black "Sash": Just Fabric

Clunky Shoes & Magnifying Necklace: Yard Sale

"Ballerina" Thingie On My Leg: Just Ribbon

            On a galaxy far, far away, there lived a girl who dreamed of black seas and walked to the rhythm of Queen. The girl, a gloomy one, knew not a way to celebrate her freedom, so she embarked, yet again, in an obscure and perilous adventure. She would dress up as a grandmoter-ly Dementor, it was decided, and she would photograph the experience like the fool she knew she was. The sad, little fellow lived in a dimension where ancient Greek goddesses would trade their pristine, white dresses to embody darkened robes of desolation. That little girl, who was quite not so little, followed Mary Mack's footsteps by dressing in black. She believed in all colors, but all other clothes were in the wash.

Gah, all year long, I waited for this vacation, and, now that it has arrived, I have no idea what to do. Starting Today, I will try to fill my lengthy days with the wonders of glitter, spray paint, and DIY.