Sometime over the course of my blogging epic (almost three and a half years now) I’ve stopped listing where my clothes come from. There wasn’t much of a point to that when 90% of them were thrifted, but in the past year or so, I’ve started buying more and more from vintage Etsy and eBay shops. I thought I’d introduce you guys to the ladies who keep me hooked.
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And from a few brick-and-mortar vintage/thrift stores in my city:
The Classy Closet
You guys. I have been going to Maine every summer for, like, eight years, and I have wanted to do a proper photoshoot in front of this library for just as long. One day I will sell enough short stories to buy this place and hoard mannequins & antique hats in every corner. I will wake up in the tower and shout at young women taking photos on my stoop, but I’ll secretly love it, those descendents of mine. This place isn’t the kind of secret you hold too tight.
I have no idea where those white lines came from. I like to think an inchworm was crawling across my lens.
Post title taken from my favorite Blackmore’s Night song.
I don’t actually like margaritas, but I feel like that’s what you’re supposed to drink when you’re lazing poolside in cat-eye sunglasses.
I spent most of the past week in Maine, battling the ocean and soaking in the unabashed kitsch. I love tacky tourist-trap bullshit, especially the maritime version: I am the kind of person who is easily charmed by, like, dancing lobsters.
Major picdump incoming: these shots were taken by my mom, who was into photography before I was but a twinkle in her eye.
This is less an outfit post than me prancing around at magic hour in a dress I’d forgotten I had, with hair that’s finally, finally long enough to be messy. (Seriously, HOW could I have forgotten this dress? I thrifted it two years ago for $13; something similar on, say, PinupGirlClothing would run over $100. I need to count my damn blessings.)
I also thought I’d share an interest of mine that I don’t often mention here: medieval and Renaissance music. I am an absolute fool for madrigals, for antiphons, for hymns, for requiems, for lutes and fifes and minstrels. This is not exactly something people expect from me. I often feel like nothing about my personality is really cohesive, to the point where I’m like “if I were a fictional character, I would call myself unrealistic”. There’s a constant undercurrent of awareness that people probably think I’m “trying too hard” or making myself a special snowflake. I try not to care, but I am also loath to seem like a poseur.
Anyway, here is the medieval/Renaissance/Celtic music playlist you didn’t know you needed!
My Kingdom for a Hat 