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?