It all started with a pair of pants.
Once upon a time I promised myself I would stop dressing like a confused, uncomfortable, ironic (uncomfortably ironic??) thirteen year old g0th princess skinny jean luvr 4lyf. Then these pants came in the mail and I was like, loljk YOLO idec wuteva wuteva. (Let's just stop to appreciate my breathtaking syntax and subtle hyperbole.)
Once upon a time I promised myself I would stop dressing like a confused, uncomfortable, ironic (uncomfortably ironic??) thirteen year old g0th princess skinny jean luvr 4lyf. Then these pants came in the mail and I was like, loljk YOLO idec wuteva wuteva. (Let's just stop to appreciate my breathtaking syntax and subtle hyperbole.)
I know wearing horizontally striped jeans is akin to physically saying Anna Wintour's name in vain or whatever, but I figured if I dressed it down I could relax these slightly obnoxious jeans. Then I put on an ironic tank top. And then a rosary. By the time I stumbled out of my clothing-carpeted room, I was the antithesis of what I want my style to be. I was one of those girls.
But, y'know what, that's okay. Why buy ridiculous pants if you aren't going to go hard with them? It's okay to slip on the forgotten platform boots you wrote random stuff on when you were bored that one night. Screw it, bust out the 99 cent purple lipstick! I love these godforsaken pants and my socially unacceptable shirts as well as my latent sadist boots. Plus it all meshed in well with my obsession with jean jackets, BTVS, and Slutever lately.
vest ; thrifted
shirt ; diy
jeans ; urban outfitters
The outfit's namesake. Obvs.
Nice look. Love shoes and jeans
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