minimalist witch tits

I have officially given up on bras. I will undoubtedly drool over their beauty until my dying day but I can't fucking stand trying to find ones that fit me and then trying to feel good in them. From this point on - unless otherwise required/until I change my (admittedly quite changeable) mind - I pledge my tits to bralessness/the shitty yet perfect tween sports bra I got when I was like twelve/the occasional bralette. 

It was in this spirit that I took threw this outfit together - a sort of fuck this, fuck that deal. Fuck trying to create illusions around the minimalist architecture of my chest. Fuck the heat, I'm wearing leather. 

This shirt - please everyone take a moment to appreciate the glory that is this shirt - was another clothing swap find. It's super well worn (possibly too well... the armpits were grimy, so I cut them off) - big and soft and cozy. Plus, it's one of them most cheerfully morbid things I own. The illustration (if you can't tell) is of a cat juggling a bunch of mice. The caption, which is hidden beneath the waistband of my skirt in the photos, reads "A balanced diet." Cute, but sinister if you think about it long enough (just like me). 

Can you tell what piece of art/artist my (temporary) tattoo is from?

J’allais sous le ciel, Muse! et j’étais ton féal;

Hot hot days (my least favorite weather).
Thunder and lightning noons and  nights (my most favorite weather).
Summer is after me, my friends, sticking its humid fingers between door and doorframe. I am lured into moments of quite magic and lulled through sleepless nights by the everpresent hum of the kitchen fan. Three free months shimmer ahead, oasis-like in their glory and their tricksy distance. I am crowned in onion flowers and companioned by cats and crows. I want to do absolutely nothing I ought to do.

Last night, in the grip of a daylong stomachache and the vestiges of a bad cold, I feverishly reread Patti Smith's Just Kids.  I gave myself over completely to the poet and her pages - something I haven't done in months (reading, my most treasured childhood activity, has been reluctantly set aside time and again for the duties of young adulthood, the issue augmented by my ever-shortening attention span). It's a book that fills you, yet makes you yearn. A book that is a whisper and a shout. It vibrates beneath your skin.

I got a new-old sweater at a (gender inclusive!) clothing swap on Friday and just had to wear it today, in brazen defiance of the heat. Witch babies like us stay wrapped in chenille and velvet: ill-prepared for summer, clinging stubbornly to the rich and the dark. It becomes us. Pay no mind to the sweat beading on our skin.

with sweltering almost-summer magic,

PS - all my love to my mother/best friend/cosmic twin in these wee post-mothers' day hours

beltane brat

It's Beltane and I'm in the ritual way.
(Ritual for ritual's sake is the closest to religion or therapy I can manage.)
Drives up dirt roads to spin dizzy under the stars and spill my hurts into the breeze.
A miracle fella who held my hand there and back again, whispering of crossroads literal and figurative.
It's been a hard day, a rickety rollercoaster week (the big wooden kind that creaks and groans as the carts race over the tracks, the kind that's been there forever and somehow manages to exude a sense of permanence and decay).

Weeks. It's literally been weeks since I've had time or energy to wear something that I felt was worth documenting. What I came up with today ended up being surprisingly special... made up of important pieces that made me feel happy and safe. An instance of armour, to be sure. Plus, it was incredibly comfortable and very weather appropriate (which is a rare win... the hot months leave me perplexed as to my own style 9 times out of 10 cause all I know how to do is layer things. usually dark things).

Also, I'm going to forever treasure the fact that this superdupercute girl who works at the vintage store down the way said I looked "very high-fashion Jesus". A compliment for the archives, I think.

 Happy Beltane! With love,

more veined with gold

I've got warmth in my bones today.

The sun soaked all the way in for the first time in months. 

It made me want to curl catlike on the patio and eat curry popsicles and run a mile or two all at the same time. 

We've just started rehearsals for the show I'm in at university and I can't believe how good it is for me. It is a rare to leave a nighttime rehearsal happier and more energetic than you were before it began. I'm doing what I love and I'm loving it right now... not just in retrospect or, like, as a learning experience. This play is helping me breathe. 

This was a very underthings-focused ensemble, but I opted to cover up a bit to avoid being stared at by obnoxious teen boys who seem to have nothing better to do than hanging out in grocery store parking lots when they get out of class. A shame, really. It was a completely different  (and mighty fine) look without the sweater.

Hope you get some air and sunshine this weekend.

chains and spring rains

This week, the air was all creeping storms and drifting petals. Now, finally, the sky's broken open and soft thrum of rain enshrouds this house in this tourist town on this stretch of highway.

After some months of absence from my aerial studio (and from athleticism whatsoever, to be honest), I'm back. With a vengeance, dammit. I'm training hard and I've got the knots and bruises to prove it. But with my two great artistic loves (circus and theatre [which go better together, in my opinion, but college doesn't quite facilitate that]) locked in eternal battle for my time, I've being playing catch-up ever since I began. It's a great frustration that I cannot be in two places at once, that I must sleep, that I am - indeed - only (mostly) human.

At the studio, I'm playing on chains that make me feel like some sort of Titan for loving them and dreaming of an abandoned warehouse that is a chapel that is fable that is completely empty and utterly glorious.

The first week of term has come and gone almost tranquilly. For now, I've got the time to do what I need to do and to sleep and that is an indescribably lovely thing.

This outfit is closer to how I navigate the season than the one in my last post. Dark colours but short sleeves. Fewer bras. Nude makeup. And eyebrows. Eyebrows forever.

Basically what I'm saying is that I want to look like a brooding witch baby all year round.

Body:

• Top - $2.99 - thrifted - In real life, the colour is much more complex. Sort of a deep plum with flecks of pink-red and tinsel. It's a bit itchy, but I'm still quite in love with it. 
• Skirt - free - clothing swap - I mean, it's a pretty straightforward garment. Not much to say.
• Spoon Earrings - a gift - My ever-lovely mum got me these for my just-passed birthday. Apparently, the were originally sold in matching pairs (as in - handle with handle, scoop-bit with scoop-bit), but since I never wear matching earrings my mum convinced the shop lady to sell 'em to her like this, cause she's the best. I like how they'd make a complete thing if you put them together. A match of spirit if not of form. 

Face:

• Josie Maran Daily Moisturizer SPF 40 - I'd been needing a new under-makeup sunblock (once the sun begins to make a regular appearance, I have to up the SPF or I'll turn into one giant, very ruddy freckle), so I got the sample size of this in my last Sephora order. It's awesome, and helps combat redness. The one downside (aside from the price, which is steep, but totally worth it for my skin's health/wellness) is that the scent is a bit like children's cold medicine - trying too hard to smell "light" and "friendly". Luckily, it fades pretty quickly. 
• Dr. Jart + Water Fuse BB Cream - Ye Olde Standby
• Rimmel London Match Perfection Skin Tone Adapting Concealer in Fair - This is, like, shockingly effective. Lately, I've had no patience for foundation. This combines well with my bb cream to make my skin look hundreds of times better than it does on its own. Of course, it does nothing to cover the giant permazit (that I'm beginning to worry may not actually be a zit cause it's being there so long) on my forehead, but what could?
• Palladio Herbal Lip Slix in Creme Cocoa - It smells just like crayons. Mixed with herbs. I don't know if this is good or bad to be quite honest. From my experience, Palladio is an extremely hit-or-miss company. This is one of my better experiences with their stuff. It probably helps that I acquired it through borrowing-and-never-returning (hi, mum/oops/do you want it back?). 
• Ben Nye Eyebrow Pencil in Beige - Another standby. 

What are you wearing for springtime? Are you having (literal/figurative) spring rains?

sugary space cadet

Greetings, darlings! I was blog-absent for all of March, wasn't I. It was my birthday month, plus the end of a very hectic winter term into a much-needed spring break. I could've spent my free time documenting outfits and such, but I rather needed to chill the fuck out. Here are pictures from one outfit I managed to snatch over a busy (yet somehow still relaxing) vacation - just a simple little outfit in a lovely little (birthday!) dress. I haven't worn colour quite like this in ages, but my mother gave it to me and I found I had no protestations. It makes me feel like a sherbet of indeterminate flavor floating about in space!

Now - for real this time - changes are coming to the blog, design and otherwise. A good portion of my busy-yet-relaxing week of break was spent working on a new segment, which I'm really excited to share with y'all. Soon!

In the meantime, check me out on twitter and instagram, and have a peek at my wantworthy (filled with beautiful, completely unattainable, but always droolworthy items [and a few actual fiscal possibilities] curated by yours truly). I'm being all, like, social media literate or whatever.

PS - The theatre owns my body and thus - haircut. Alas! I miss my weird mane.

don quixote's heart

"It seems like this term things are suddenly starting to unfold for you," my acting professor said, smiling. 

And they are. I'm beginning to feel deft and able and strong in my craft for the first time ever. It's not like some thunder-and-lightning revelation... it's much quieter than all that. But it's sweet and lovely and long-desired. 

One of the clearest moments of recognition came during callbacks this past weekend. At a certain point I realized that I wasn't letting my perpetual fear of failure hold me back or crush me. I was really letting my love for the play and the role I was up for flow out of me. I couldn't stop smiling. I've never felt so happy and safe during an audition. 

And I got the part. A lead role in a gorgeous play about magic and love and the nature of acting/theatre/illusion/reality that will have me on stage in full 18th century French dress - ten to fifteen pounds of gorgeous period costume. It's been a long time coming and I cannot fucking wait. 

Not everything is rosy, though. It's tough to (re-)realize that being happy about one things doesn't keep you from being sad about others. Primarily, I lament the my lack of solid friendships at university. People who want me around outside of campus. I love a lot of people here, and I guess they like me all right, but I've felt for years now that (with the exception of the people I live with) my physical existence goes almost entirely unnoticed and unlooked-for outside of class and the hyperaffection of the internet. It's a shitty and lonely and sometimes utterly insufferable way to feel, but I'm a tough cookie and I know I'll be all right. 

When I started college I believed with my whole heart that if my classes were stimulating and challenging and if I got to be involved in shows I wouldn't even need friends. It was an incredibly naive way for me to deal with my near-paralyzing social anxiety, but I took it as truth for a long time. 

I treasure small moments. The boy in my class who brought us all white roses for Valentine's Day. The day four of us sat on stage long after classes had ended and just held each other and talked and cried. The "we should hang out I mean, for real this time"s. The few stolen hours of tea and conversation. I am truly grateful for these things. 

But enough of that icky personal stuff. 

My beautiful Zana Bayne harness came in the mail today! I couldn't truly afford it, but it was way way way on sale (they never have sales) and I've been mooning over Zana's merchandise for over a year. I had this whole plan to contact the company and ask how they source their leather (or get a pvc version [but pvc < leather, so]) so I could decide whether or not I'd been willing to sidestep my personal ethics for the sake of an investment piece like this, but it went on sale and I joypanicked and bought it. It's pointless to feel shitty about it now, and I know I'll have it (and love it) for, like, ever. No regrets (just occasional twinges of guilt). My one complaint is that when I detach the collar, the center strap sags and disrupts its own line. Poo. I'd love to be able to wear it both ways... maybe I'll figure something out.

Hope your day has been replete with people and things that you love,