excuse much, rude or anything?

Lately I'm not sure I know what "girly" is. Or, rather, I think too broadly of the subject. Or is it just a subjective term? Is any genre of fashion truly objective? I think it's incredibly narrow-minded to assume that you can stick a name on an ensemble and only dress according to those pre-conceived, decided rules. Which is the beauty of fashion; the aesthetics and appeal are purely perceived by the wearer. I'll probably have changed my mind by tomorrow, but let's stick with this idea for now.

Personally, I fell like "girly" is the entire essence of all that is female, assuming the term is projected towards a woman. Girly is sexy is flashy is curvy is pink is black is floral is lace is naive yet completely seductive and revealing. Girly is reveling in all things feminine, whatever those things may be to you. This idea is mirrored in Versace's collections '99 - 2000-ish. Critics went on and on about how, well, those models look like hookers. That's the point. Sex sells. What's sexier than a woman? Whether it's aggressive or naive, girly is when you aren't ashamed of the things you were born with. Attitude, a body, a personality, an ideal, choices, a vagina, and boobs.

c r e d i t

canon ball blog, chloe sevigny, la ghash, both collages - refinery29, mine, modelinia, star media, dana, dana, emma bunton as baby spice, mine, petra, samwish, mine, youtheme, galliano rtw spring 2011  

"The fact that anyone can be labeled a slut, at any time, with any level of sexual activity under their belt, and the fact that sluttiness is a moving target, makes it clear that slut-shaming isn’t just about controlling how much sex women have. If you can be called a slut without so much as kissing another person, then it stands to reason that your slut status must be based on something besides your level of sexual experience or activity. And often, it is. It’s based on what people assume about you just by looking at you - at your body, your clothes and the way you move through the world. Once you realize that, it becomes obvious that the slut label isn’t just about controlling how much sex women have: It’s about controlling how we dress, how we walk, how we talk, how we dance, how much we drink, who we talk to, how we feel about our own desires and so on and so on. And crossing the invisible, culturally-determined “slut line” in any of these arenas is enough to earn you a label that, no matter how much we denounce and detest it, no matter how well we understand its purpose and its perniciousness, somehow manages to seep into our brains and eat away at our certainty and self-assurance."

don't call me little bastard, call me snake

I hate sewing. Like, I really, really hate it. And the feeling's mutual. I can't do it, I don't want to know how to do it, I give up with sewing. Unless. Unless it's a teensy weensy little bit of cakewalk sewing that will make a huuuuuge difference in whatever piece of clothing that unfortunately finds it way to my surgery table. My stitches are uneven, messy, and completely amateurish, but I'm sticking with the somewhat true idea that you can hardly even see it.

Anything that I can do myself that doesn't require sewing is something that I will absolutely put on my mental to-do list and luckily I've had enough time on my hands lately that I've finally been able to do it. Of course these things took about ten minutes each. As far as creativity goes, most of the things I've done are a replica or based on something I've seen someone else do, so I take zero credit for any of the general ideas. The things I'm showing in this particular post are based on something Kylie did on Nice and Shiny and something that Tavi sported on The Style Rookie. So, ladida here you go.

And my most recent/favorite DIY:

l a s h e s 

Suckily enough, I didn't have fake flowers when I realized I wanted to do this so in a five second internal debate I decided to make one with real flowers from my yard because, I mean, it would totally suck, right? And I won't care when the flowers die by tomorrow morning, right? And I won't cry, right? Wrong.

Ah, well. Tomorrow I have a hard day of library-ing, mailing a shirt for this giveaway thing, and shopping for pale pink fake roses and other lovely flowers because I NEED MORE OF THESE. I think I'm actually going to enjoy the dead flower crown, though. What was also great, I put all of the extra flowers in a few empty, cylinder glasses that used to be candles. I'm ~hip~ and ~innovative~ that way. Hip in the smells-like-a-week-old-funeral kinda way. ~Hip~

make like a roach and bug off!

My blog's namesake:

Purple blazer, ironic suits, orange paisley button ups with pale blue collars. Home.

Other things lovingly dubbed skid row bum style, crackwhore chic, hobo chic,

grunge, trash digger fierce, wannabe Manson chick...

c r e d i t

teenjesus2k11 ; unknown ; the fashion spot ; amy winehouse ; panicbeats

 scarymansion ; ben-- ; despicablealexis ; methcrisis

it's a herman munster day

 I don't think anyone's smile can be as smiley as Fred Gwynne.

Remember when pony tails were in? Me neither! (haha oh my god gettit~) I'm actually wearing my hair in a pony tail more and more often lately, there's actually a lot you can do with them. I'm especially loving a flawless, pin-straight pony - obviously not like the one above - but I'm feelin' any version of this 'do these days.

Anyway, this is just a half-assed inspiration-ish outfit post because my dad saw my boots and began calling me Herman Munster for the whole day. Yeah. That was fun. So, not much blogging, although! I've been doing tiny DIY projects alllllll day so I'll probably be posting something about them tomorrow-ish. Until then.

slap me with a splintered ruler

All the great fashion bloggers (is that an oxymoron? ha-ha funny riiiiight?) seem to have huge, elaborate, style palette-having inspirations for their outfits, rooms, personality, mermermer. This is so far from a critique it's not even funny. I wish I were so pop culturally informed that I could do that - but I can't. I have my rare moments where I decide I'm going to dress like Agent Scully but I don't think that necessarily counts? Maybe? No idea? Me either! And that's the problem.

The closest I've ever come to deciding a real, complex, premeditated foundation for an outfit is when I found myself wearing a shirt dress, turband, Ozzy shades (i feel like ozzy is under appreciated as everyone says lennon shades so), and combat boots whilst sporting unwashed hair and decided I was MK for the day. So.  I mean. You see?

No, I dress by genre. Any genre that gives an excuse for my crack whore chic attire amongst the uggs and jeans I'm generally surrounded by. "Your tights are ripped. Why not get new ones?" for example is both a civil complaint and stupid observation. "It's grunge." And, boom, you have a genre. Grunge is my most used and has become something of a catch phrase along with skid row bum style, but now I'm trying to bring a new one to light.

My younger sister Claire has shown herself on more than one occasion as being my style confirmationalist. (i'm pretty sure confirmationalist is not a word and could probably be simplified, but, i mean.) I go to her when I'm nervous that something doesn't go and usually she'll concur in that far-off, passive, get-out-of-my-room-i-really-don't-care-about-this voice. I hate when she concurs. So when she tells me that you can't put one print on top of a different print or that jacket is too boxy for that maxi dress, I tell her, "It's 90's." Really, it's more 90's grunge but I don't want to be redundant, so. It's 90's. Leopard print shoes with a bright red floral dress? 90's. Vintage 3-D glasses tucked into a button up plaid silk shirt? NINETIES. So, on with the best decade as far as fashion goes since the 1920's.

vest, dress, and shoes ; thrifted

belt ; target

dress, sunglasses, & knit jacket ; thrifted

leopard platforms & cross necklace ; forever 21

'white trash' shirt ; thrifted w/ diy logo

dress ; my grandmother's closet

cross necklace ; forever 21

sunglasses, dress, and vest ; thrifted

shoes ; ebay

black rosary ; etsy

'white trash' shirt that i wear too much ; thrifted w/ diy paint job

floral high-waisted midi ; thrifted

And now the 90's that doesn't live in my closet...

c r e d i t

buffy the vampire slayer, unknown, the crush, unknown,

isabelengland, galliano, kristin-eileen, tanktill, versace, sweetamphetamines, friends 

ALSO. I'm so much on the 90's kick that Alanis Morisette's Jagged Little Pill CD (i know, right. cd. what is a cd.) has been playing on repeat in my stereo all weekend and I'm not even a little bit done yet. I feel like playing Nintendo or watching Twin Peaks or writing on my walls or something.