because i can

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I took these photos a month ago yesterday. Even Cernunnos is scratching his horns over why I never posted them. I love the outfit, and I love the slightly surreal, thoroughly witchified setting. But I tried at least three times to pull these together into a coherent post, and it just wasn’t coming. And now I’m thinking that I just plain don’t have much to say about these pictures. There’s not much words can add here, really. Sometimes I’m tired of making statements. Sometimes dragging up deeper meaning behind every glance of light and turn of phrase stops being astute and becomes unbearably, obnoxiously po-mo. Hell, the fact that I just unironically used “po-mo” in a sentence is a testament to my analysis lobe needing a break. Enjoy some beauty for the sake of beauty. Enjoy a pretty outfit on a pink-haired witch, and I’ll be back soon with your regularly scheduled pretension.

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It’s delightful to find two pieces that were clearly meant to go together – e.g. this dress and blouse. The silhouettes match seamlessly, and the black-and-white is classic, but the textures are just different enough to keep things interesting.

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My friend Lizzie took this one. Thank her instagram filter for the sepia. A storm’s a-coming.

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Dress, Blouse, Boots, & Brooch: Battery Street Jeans Tights: Gifted

wicked west, sordid south

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I’ve always been drawn to the “weird West” and “southern gothic” aesthetics and assorted paraphernalia. Spooky, ghost-dripping Americana tingles my spine and makes me yearn to crawl beneath the skin of the world, into the underbelly of fog and freaks. My mindscape resembles Deliverance, O Brother, Where Art Thou?, and a Flannery O’Connor novel. But only in the summer does this particular demon haunt welcome me: something about the way summer trees are just a little too ripe evokes its specter like nothing else.

(Before you ask: every other season has its associated ghoulies and ghosties, too. But this one has long been my favorite.)

Today in theatrics: the forest is just slightly too bright not to harbor some atrocity or other. I also pulled inspiration from Amy of Amy Flying a Kite, whose romantic prairie aesthetic often informs mine.

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“Follow me.”

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Weird West and southern gothic are all about queering traditional landscapes and mythologies. To find my place in that tradition, I (GASP!) modernized this prairie look a little with printed tights and generally eclectic accessories. As a costumer, I love exploiting and/or squashing expectations of a particular look, and today I did this by pulling the eye out of the past and a little more abruptly into the modern than usual.

And let’s be real: my pink hair always does that whether I intend it or not.

Also, if I have to choose between hewing to every period detail and setting the mood I want to set, I’ll usually choose the latter, even if it means a little imprecision.

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Oh lord, these boots. I found them at Battery Street labeled only with the tag “very old boots!”. They’re so fragile they seem about to liquefy. One is missing most of its tongue. And they fit me almost perfectly. A little pinch at the toe is well worth it to wear a piece of history.

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This is my pet gremlin. We call him Nick Teppelin.

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Dress, Hat, & Boots: Battery Street Jeans Tights: Plato’s Closet Belt: Goodwill Necklace: Handed down from Mom

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One of my favorite photos of myself ever.

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I took these photos this morning, but they’re already out of date. I got my hair cut very shortly afterward. It’s bouncy and wonderful and the last of the nasty bleached bits is FINALLY gone. Pictures soon!

“You look like a gypsy,” said my friend who works at the shop across the street where I get pizza every day. Preach it. I wish I had a crystal ball.

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I keep trying to believe the fact that not only did this sweater and skirt not come as a set, I got them at two different thrift stores.

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Sweater & Blouse: Battery Street Jeans Turban & Necklace: Old Gold Skirt: Goodwill Tights: Sox Market Shoes: Danform