review: fashion

I like clothes a lot more than someone would think. But I like clothes in the sense that I like looking at them. Purchasing them and wearing those clothes is a totally other story. Mostly because I have horrible insomnia, so when I’m getting ready I’m either about to be late, or I’ve been up all night and I’m like “stripes with floral is a thing? right?” and then I put on a sweatshirt over whatever I’m wearing anyway and call it a day.

There are some times where I’m laying in bed, thinking about the next day, and I get a brilliant fashion plan and I’m like “ooh yes” and then the next day I put it on and I’m like, “damn I’m good at this shit.”

One time in high school a girl complimented my clothes and said I “took a lot of risks.” I think I was wearing this dark purple dress with a large floral print and dark green tights. She was the student aide in my Latin class and I thought she was way hot so I was like, “no big deal gurl.”

Actually I probably vomited all over myself and then got a nosebleed. The nosebleed actually happened in Latin class, fun fact. I got blood all over the floor and stuff and they had to call in the public school cleaning experts and make sure no one dared to touch my possibly HIV-ridden blood.

Speaking of HIV, when I first learned what that was (sixth grade, in a class called “Family Life”) I became CONVINCED that I had HIV. Now I didn’t get this from sharing needles or having sex, because I was an 11 year old girl who would soon become very sexually confused for a long time and because I lived in the middle of this:

Screen Shot 2013-07-31 at 1.54.31 AM

just imagine the early title sequence of Weeds

So, my theory was that my mom gave me AIDS while she was pregnant with me and that she didn’t tell me about it for some reason, and she was sneaking me all these drugs to keep me healthy this whole time.

It made a lot of sense to me back then. The symptoms flashed up on the screen and I was like, “Hey, I get sick a lot. I must have HIV.”

And my hypochondria stemmed from a lifelong problem with anxiety, which is also the cause of my insomnia, which leads up straight back to fashion.

I think my biggest problem when it comes to my own personal style is that I have too many directions I want to go in. If I could wear everything Elle Woods owns, I’d love that. She has, like, sparkly bikinis in four different colors. Also I’d love to have everything that Cher Horowitz (from the movie Clueless) wears. I fucking love matching plaid now and I’m on a mission to find it.


essentially my dream outfit complete with yellow plaid

But also, and what I am about to say to you will be a surprise possibly, but punk music played a huge part in my adolescence (I used to dye my hair dark red, but also I gave myself pink hair and purple hair and I ALMOST dyed my hair jet black a la Kathleen Hanna but thank god I chickened out) so of course I’m also obsessed with leather (fake leather though. I don’t usually care so much about animals but for some reason wearing their skin gives me the heebie-jeebies) and huge boots and studs and wearing black and things like that.

So I think sometimes I end up somewhere in the middle. Like, floral shorts with tights with a bright yellow shirt that says “fucking” across it and a leather jacket. It’s not usually very pleasing to other people.

Other notable items in my wardrobe: shiny gold leggings, the loudest pink, yellow, and green striped shirt ever, bright pink jeans, and so much fucking floral. It’s an issue.

Also I have a girlfriend who is kind of hard to please when it comes to the fashion game. I never really know what she wants from me. I mean obviously I prefer wearing no clothes around her (heyoo) but we have to go to Chipotle sometimes and mostly I end up looking like this weirdo standing next to this collared shirt and Toms combo. Whenever I ask her for fashion advice it usually goes along the lines of:

“Hey, should I get one of those necklaces that spell your name in cursive?”
“But I don’t want my name…I want to get ‘Britney’ for Britney Spears.”

She keeps me grounded.

That being said, I really love fashion blogs, which is, again, something I don’t think people would necessarily think I would like, but there are so many that I read regularly and some that have ended but I still go back and read sometimes. I would totally run a fashion blog if I could, you know, understand anything about clothes ever. And that doesn’t look likely.

Also fashion bloggers take the best Instagrams. Always. It’s a given.

So my final review on fashion? It’s great. I love it. I just wish I wasn’t an idiot about it and that I actually purchased practical items instead of getting fixated on a color or a pattern (right now I’m just literally buying everything that is pink or has a pug on it). Maybe I’ll learn, but then I think about this amazing pair of jeans I had when I was a kid with this gorgeous flower embroidery on the left leg and then I realize that I’m going to look like a floral smoothie threw up on me for the rest of my life.

And I’m mostly okay with that.


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