slut (plaid dress, plaid coat, & clashing shades of red)

“You always dress so classy,” she said to me as we passed on the street. “I really like how you manage to look sexy without being, you know” – she lowered her voice – “slutty.” If anything has ever made me want to unbutton my blouse and rip a few inches off my skirt, it…

on modernity (vintage florals, pink coat, red hat, & yellow tights)

I don’t understand this emphasis on “vintage with a modern twist”. I don’t want a modern twist. I want to wear my circle skirts and corsets the way God (or Dior) intended. I want to look like a walking anachronism. A ghost in petticoats. (And then I want to open my mouth and shatter the daintiness,…

housewife (’50s dress, dollar-store pearls, & oxford pumps)

The milkman’s wares were spoiled this morning but I didn’t say anything because what can he do? I try not to shoot the messenger, but my whole life is messengers, it seems – the sticky webs of secretaries I’m put through just to reach Richard; the doctor who phoned to say my father was dead….

luna

Holly and I are kittening at the Vermont Burlesque Festival in T minus two days. Eep! We get red carpet photos and invitations to the performers’ brunch, which makes me die a little – I get to munch waffles and mimosas with real live performers? People who do this for a living, not a lark?…

why i don’t write about body image (yellow novelty print & red leopard)

I’ve always found the mainstream media fairly easy to ignore. I never internalized images of women smoother and slimmer than I. They weren’t personal, you know? I understood implicitly that they were just doing their thing, or trying to sell me something. That they weren’t targeting me from on high. What did needle at me…

let down your hair (vintage florals & competing shades)

Let down your hair to me, I asked, and watched the sly uncurling. Silk-bound secrets shook their shackles and I learned what morning meant. Let down your hair, I asked, a tease – golden secrets winking back. I climbed her form and kissed her face. I paused and watched her bloom stretch on forever. Let…

mori girl

I am lashed to a gypsy boy by one colossal sky. when this universe shrinks to a cage, I’ll remember that his eyes were black holes; dripping, magnetic wounds; and through them we could probably tunnel our way free. I will miss you, gypsy brother, in the not-so-far-off fore when your pain is no longer…

philosophy (is the talk on a cereal box)

I have been thinking a lot about rationality and utilitarianism, as well as where I, as someone who craves beauty, fit into those intellectual sectors. Let me tell you a secret: I used to be deeply ascetic. When I was 14 and fancied myself the World’s Youngest Buddhist, I wore giveaway t-shirts and practical shoes…

winterbilly

  I had a weird half-asleep epiphany last night, and I want to see if it still holds water conscious. I’m a writer. I’ve always been a writer. I dictated my first stories to my mother before I could hold a pen. From first through eighth grade I spent lunch and recess buried in a…

bitch, i’m fabulous

I have never in my life liked leopard print. Any animal print, for that matter. It’s an inside joke among my loved ones, a slice of family mythology: “everyone get Skye leopard stuff for Christmas [hurr durr]!” But this coat, courtesy of Danica, is the thing that reorients my entire life. When a piece of…