Cougar-embroidered T-Shirt - very old!, Shorts - c/o Your Eyes Lie, Vest & Pins - Vintage, Boots - Dolce Vita, Jewelry - Konstantino & Unearthen & A blue bottle necklace that was a gift from my mother!
Isn't "Skin Wall" just about the creepiest phrase ever concocted? I only call this wall "skin wall" on account that it is the same color as my skin, but the B-movie horror nut in me loves the connotation.
Also, I am fully aware that this outfit makes me look like I'm auditioning to be the fifth member of Jem and the Holograms.
Looking at these photos, I just keep thinking about how bizarre I look. What a bizarre-looking person, walking around, out in the world! Why do I have a claw hand in that first photo? Why is my wrist the same size as my hand? How stumpy would my calves be if I didn't stand on tip-toe in every photo? Why is my jaw like that? The other day, Blake said something brilliantly Blake, which is that blogging kind of gives you body dysmorphia because you see SO MANY photos of yourself. It's just overkill. Your brain can't process anything but the details after a while, and all of the details look askew, like if you say a word too many times and it loses all meaning. It's just sounds. That's how I feel about the way I look right now. Like, my brain can't even process that I'm a person. I'm just oddly smooshed-together pieces, and nothing seems to fit together in the right way.
Also, nothing really seems like an outfit to me anymore until I add a hat. It's only half-done! I should have worn a hat! (sigh) FASH-UN. I'm hungry. What was I talking about again?