in the interzone now
I LOVE CLOTHING!!!!
Oh, and I must right now say that the vinyl trench coat, the bondage bracelets, AND the Alchemy Gothic shirt of Mike's are all somehow my fault. I rock, huh?
Clothes that change my mood...
Gimme plaid bottom (red an' grey pants, safety pinned BRIGHT red knee-length skirt, black and dark-red diagonal full-length), and I will feel way overconfident and be a grand high bitch goddess. Believe me, it can be done, even with this sense of self loathing I seem to keep finding.
Gimme big sleeves, and I feel majestic and sexy. My biggest sleeves drag on the floor. And tie up right under my bust, so guess what they're enhancing?
Gimme frayed black denim, well-worn too-baggy band shirts and my leather jacket, and I feel dangerous, and start posturing. Mike has so witnessed this. Of course, it wasn't frayed black denim then, but it was still jeans! With patches declaring both "slut" and "bad kitty" on 'em. I'm so terrible, I know. I love it!
But I always always always always hafta have a jacket or vest. Get me with just a shirt, and I'm all cowering into myself and being terrified of the world. Talk about physical representations of mental shields, huh?
And all this from a girl who thought anyone who liked fashion should be shot. That was a little more than 5 years ago now. And not only is my wardrobe too big, it seems to have seeped into the closets of all my friends as well!
From vinyl trench coat to hardware store hoody.
Maybe I need a life?
impress me, or be discarded