So I discovered that studying actually can consume 90% of the time at that's the reason I don't blog about my clothes as much as I used to - I barely wear anything but like, leggings and hoodie at home.
And I am mostly at home lately.
But sometimes I still manage to crawl out of my room, put some fancy shit on and make my photographer bff crawl out of her room - what gets tougher when you think about coordinating stuff, and when we finally do our best to leave the caves it's raining. Or at least those pictures are the case when it was, in fact, raining; but not full blown flood kinda thing, more like the sneaky drizzle drops when you pretend it's ok and then you look at your hair and realize that nothing is ok and your life is a goddamn path of misery and regret.
And also your hair is wet.
This time I went as hippie as it gets outside of Coachella and I wore them flared trousers. I had a pair when I was like 11 and then I hated it but hey, here we are, reunited. I mean, did anyone look decent when they were 11? And that's not even the age when you start to think about your appearence, that's The Golden Age of blouses that your mom got you and those weird sneakers that seemed cool and funky back then but thinking about it now makes you cringe so hard.
Or it was like that when I was a kiddo, ya know, good ol' days.
I also torn those trousers on the knees later that day because I apparently can't walk. What's funny is that I did that while going to grab a beer, and not after. Ah the struggle.
So I'm back to the geography thug lifestyle I lately acquired. You know shit gets too real when you're like "oh my, today's gonna be fun, I got my highlighters and I get to learn about cows in the world today. I'm basically blessed".