Looky, look! You would think that after last week's discourse upon my misguided judgment in wearing short skorts in 38 degree weather I would geta' clue. But nothing has changed, nor will it ever. In truth, I don't dress this way to solidify my personal validation as a creative individual, but rather to annoy the hell out my parentals and the all the people–haters–who supply me with the DAILY glances of disapproval to further motivate my dissidence.
"You should try some of that haterade, it really might quench your thirst" [insert metaphorical burn].
But I digress. Today, or rather the now century and a half ago that I shot these snazzy pics, I'm wearing a dress. A dress? A dress. As you can see, the aforementioned is quite sheer, floral and beyond summery. All of which typically leads to a resounding "nu-uh, you crazy?" in the present climate by standards of appropriate outfitting. Nevertheless, when "uncoventionalized" by moi, such dress has the flexibility to produce a rather nostalgic and comforting sense of Autumn when posed with a frump-guarenteed sweatshirt and a pair of not-for-riding boots. Or maybe I'm wrong, and this could possibly serve as breakthrough in my apparent therapeutic need to desert Summer 2k13 and progress with my life.
Not.
I feel like a black leather motorcycle jacket would rev up (pun so intended) the entire look, but then again, what would I know. It's not like I was featured in the school newspaper as a self-proclaimed "Fashion Expert", or anything.
Ha.
Ha, ha.
Ha.
No really, check me out. Hawkeye, entertainment section, pg. 18. Go.
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