i got them back

well, it took several days longer than it was supposed to, but my georgina goodmans are back and right where they belong: on my feet. i may never remove them. being soft leather, they molded to my feet long ago and wearing them feels like going barefoot, only better, because i could walk over hot coals with these babies and not feel a thing.

amanda richards, i don't know if i want to hug you, to throw several scarves around you and accessorize them with big, sloppy kisses - or hunt you down, put you in mom jeans and ugly sweaters and force you to watch lanvin catwalk shows and agnyess deyn montages. because that, my dear, is effectively what you have done to me. you showed me the glamorai and i am now powerless. do you know what i did until 1 am last night, amanda? i stayed up sewing baubles onto a cloth collar. tonight i am having friends over for fish tacos, and do you know what i would rather do? ransack my wardrobe for things to add ruffles to. okay, so i love you. and her. but jesus. if you don't know the glamorai, beware. she is highly addictive.

i've also decided that these myspace, pose-in-the-mirror shots are not acceptable. i'm going to do my best to take shots of myself without the aid of a mirror, but it will be difficult since i don't have 1. a cute hipster boyfriend to take my photo like the glamorai or 2. a huge mansion in the form of my parents' house in which to set up a camera like childhood flames. but dammit, i'll try.



detail of shirt:



shirt: hi-line (american apparel wannabes, from what i gather) beautifully destroyed thanks to childhood flames' tutorial, posted earlier
skirt: american apparel
tights: welovecolor.com
shoes: georgina goodman
necklace: woman on the street
belt: anthropologie

have a lovely sunday, i'm going to go fry some fish.