My Fashion Blog
July 28, 2011
Today I wore a black dress (thrifted), leopard-print tights (H&M), a feather headdress (from nana’s), 3” red clogs (from a darling store in Germany, once hard to find and now closed) and dirty underpants (oh well). I took a picture but I think it’s better if you just imagine it. The picture was in front of a brick building in an up-and-coming neighborhood. I tried to Photoshop out the homeless man who was sitting in the background giving me the finger, but now he just looks like a pile of blurry garbage. Next time I will kick him with my clogs until he leaves my wide frame of urban cool.
July 29, 2011
Today I wore a big screen-printed white shirt with reggae clams on it (stolen), gorgeous charmeuse flowy jazz pants (eBay), shoulder pads (pilfered from the football frat’s hall closet; also where I got that darling helmet that I was wearing under my panda hat last month to give my head a great, big, round shape), and a full suit of Mormon undergarments (borrowed from a Mormon; don’t plan to return them). I took a picture, but my shoulders looked fat from the camera angle (it kept falling off the tower of Wheaties boxes, pencils standing on end, and water balloons on which it was balanced). Just picture it, though: like a sexy female fundamentalist Eli Manning, with reggae clams.
July 30, 2011
Today I wore an evening gown made of cheese (artisan swiss, farmer’s market), 9” peep-toe pumps (porn store), and a tiara of taxidermied squirrels (found in the woods, I guess they died that way). I would take a photo, but I have an event to go to. The event is walking slowly down to the Super Stop & Shop and having my friend take pictures of me from behind.
July 31, 2011
Today I wore pajamas. The tiara made me really sick with syllabus rodentia. I know that’s what it is because I asked an internet medical website. It’s the only affliction that causes animated scabs.
August 1, 2011
Today I wore a one-piece swimsuit (Everything But Water). It was pretty basic initially, but I cut out peep holes for my nipples and spray-painted a big t-bone steak graphic on the back, so now it’s more of a statement piece. I paired it with a mohair shrug (Forever XXI) and painted my feet black instead of wearing shoes. Sometimes I wonder, what is the point of documenting what I wear every day? And then I remind myself that the reason I share what I wear is because I am the only person I know who doesn’t just get whistles when she walks down the street — not just glances from passersby, nods from other fashion-inspired women who acknowledge my serious efforts at glamor, winks from newborn babies, confetti and glitter thrown at my retreating body! No, people actually stop to react to my outfits. They may say, “Wow,” or they may say, “Cover up your nipples”; they might give me a dollar and advise me to check myself into a place where I can get the care I need. But no matter what, they look at me and think: this woman cares more about what she wears than anything else, she doesn’t bother with politics or debt ceilings or reading serious periodicals. She is literally consumed with fashion. She is literally being eaten by her own tiara. And so I know that everyone who sees me will understand who I really am: an animated dress form with big eyes and a brain that never stops pairing tights with tunics. That’s why it’s important for me to tell you, every day and in excruciating detail, what I see in the mirrored walls (and ceiling and floors) in my exceptionally glamorous penthouse apartment.
You’re welcome!
