Junior year is EXACTLY what everyone said it would be constitutes my petty excuse for my 2-week absence. But now that I'm bemoaning my existence lying in bed with fever and chills, I might as well be productive. I am also bemoaning my over usage of the word bemoan (Getting it out of my system, 'murdering my darlings' as Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch advised).
I realize I owe you the Masquerade post - which went beautifully, by the way, but seeing as my reasoning is impaired at the moment, I will skip ahead to the events of this past Saturday.
I and a few of my friends careened into Green Hills Mall on a wonderful Saturday afternoon as part of a support team. My best guy friend was getting his ears poked by needles and I was torn apart by conflicting emotions. I snapped a few incriminating pictures of him hugging the bear that all little girls getting their ears pierced at Claire's get to hold. Blackmail? I think yes!
As for the outfit, truth be told I am sick of summer and the sweltering weather it includes. Decided I was in dire need of some autumn hues and a touch of the '20s. Dress for the job you want, not the one you have. I think the same thing applies for seasons?
And as usual, my darling artistically-gifted friend Faith snapped most of the pictures.
Hijacking the Tailoring Station in the Men's Fitting Rooms:
Followed by couch-jacking and other shenanigans :
I found a turtle!
Jazz....Booze...Boys....It's a dangerous combination.
It's 1923...and anything goes!
Props if you recognized the back cover summary of one of my favorite modern book series - The Flappers.
Even more props if you're ardently awaiting to read the next installment, Ingenue :
Bobbed hair. Short skirts. Cool jazz. Dark speakeasy. Anything goes.
Dress - American Eagle
Shoes - Gianni Bini
Purse - gift from Argentina
Cloche - Target
Glass necklace - gift
I have a gnawing suspicion that I was born in the wrong decade/century.