The Amorphisms

I should probably share these pictures with you before the cold gets to them and transforms the above jpegs obsolete. And we sure don't want that happening.

Here are the facts:

Number one, I'm practically wearing an acid wash diaper. That being said , I haven't, until now, realized how alarmingly unflattering the are on my bottom. Yet, I'm still oddly okay with it.Sure I might be making a desperate cry for the reincarnation of summer to commence processing, but hey, I see London, I see France, I see my ill-fitting, handcrafted denim, underpants. And they look sufficient form my POV.

Numero dos, it's a fact of life: camel trench coats are never not okay. Are you catching my driftwood, because I'm sensing your sensory detail.

Calvin Klein trench coat, Urban Outfitters button up, Made-It-Myself shorts, Nike shoes and attitude brought to you by my naturally charismatic disposition (and a defiant gene pool).

And finally, nombre trois– it's French, I speak French– the attitude. You'll soon realize that I wear a lot of the same pieces on loop while in different juxtapositions with various garments from my closet, and my moms closet, and sometimes my dads, and always my sisters. The key is have the invigoration and certain junoesque to put together  something new out of the old  to entice the "shock and awe factor" that alone keeps me on my toes. Not to mention my poor friends and family who are subject to daily harassment of a persistent bipolar character translated in my wears.


Would an apology for my individualism even be appropriate here?

[Abrupt conclusion] The. End.