black on black on black

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I found this dress a few weeks ago at my favorite brick-and-mortar vintage store. For $25. Yes, $25. I keep waiting to find something egregiously wrong with it, and that moment never seems to come. What better to team it with than these kickass $1 heels + sparkly fascinator from Kristina?

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Dress: vintage, via brick-and-mortar store

Fascinator & shoes: from Kristina

Everything else: thrifted

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Have a bit of the short story I just started writing:

‘Sister Alisdair,’ said the novice, ‘her tray’s untouched again.’

From her perch above the annuals, elder Sister surveyed younger. ‘Completely untouched? Not a drop of soup spilled?’

‘Not one.’

‘Such a waste. But I’m not one to judge what calls her.’

They both fell silent, picturing that slender child growing slenderer behind the veils of her cloister, beatitude showing plain and clean on her whittling face. For weeks it had been the convent’s not-so-secret, the weight on each pair of shoulders after matins and before dusk. The Sisters had come slowly out of the Lenten fast, relearning fleshly duties as each shrunken stomach allowed. As they felt their bodies creak back to earth, they turned, briefly but crucially, inward. It was several days before they realized that one of their number had not rejoined them.

It had been seven weeks and counting since the Savior’s second birth, since the ivy had unfurled between brick and brick and the nights grown steadily warmer, and Katarina the novice still had not begun to eat.

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