I have two modes: the pixie and the siren. From April to October, the world is Pixie’s oyster. Burgeoning summer means scathing brights, lolita frills, and flowers in my cleavage. November through March is different. Stricter, quieter, more seductive. I’m the slutty librarian who shushes you all day but pounces and snarls at night. She keeps her hair a more respectable red.
With last night’s repinkening, the pixie has officially returned.