The evolution of a twenty-two year old's hair.

Six years old, the longest it ever was.

A picture of a picture of 18 year old me, a little shorter than 6 year old me.

Nineteen year old me; it looks longer than it actually was.

Nineteen year old me, after I got a haircut summer of 2007.

And then I decided to grow my hair out when I was 20. It was a normal brown.

Taken in Amsterdam summer of 2009. I'd had enough of "long" hair and cut it off.

And then I'd had enough of "short" hair and got it cut shorter that same summer.

And even after that, fall of 2009, I said "fuck you shorter short hair! I'm chopping you off!" (And I have no recollection of this girl's name...)

And as I'm doing this now, I'm getting really confused about the years I was in school. I went to three different schools and graduated in 3 1/2 years, so it gets confusing. But, this was a year after the aforementioned picture. Really, this is my favorite kind of cut. Not too pretty, not too ugly, just messy enough so I don't have to wash it every day.

Fall of 2010, the semester I graduated, I decided to go red. With a box. It looked like I had blood wounds on my scalp, and looking back, my hair looked unhealthy. But I do love this color.

And then I got my hair cut again, to a very similar cut I'd had before! I'm so creative with my hair cuts.

Awkward in-between stage. My hair was asking itself, "Am I long hair, or am I short hair? I AM SO CONFUSED." This was a roughly a month ago.

 Finally I got my hair chopped off again and dyed chocolate brown last weekend. Don't cha just love it? I know you can see all the intricacies of the cut!

Just kidding.

There, that's a little better. I talked it over with photobooth, and we decided to have a spur of the moment photoshoot to honor my "new" hair.

And look! I got this killer watch today, for $23 bucks. The brand is Flüd. Ever heard of it?

I hope that journey wasn't too boring. If it was, I'm not terribly sorry. Besides, I highly doubt I'll ever post this many pictures of me ever again. Also, I love it when bloggers post their pictures extra-large. It's easier for me to see all the detail.

Happy Mother's Day to all the would-be could-be should-be mothers! (And actual mothers, too.)

Sexy time at the beach!

A lot of fashion editorials that come out in the spring and summer are located at the beach. Most often, they are "sexy" shoots, usually involving sand, water, and nudity. But do I have to be sexy at the beach? Why do I have to waltz around naked or — if not naked — with half a boob poking out (e.g. here - and that's NSFW, by the way)? I mean, I wouldn't necessarily mind if I were at a nude beach. But why is it desirable? Oh yeah, 'cause nudity is always desirable!

I've decided - from this point on, I'm never wearing clothes again. Bye bye clothes, hello naked body! Hello jail time!

And here is a tribute to all the annoyingly confusing sexy-beach editorials in fashion mags (who are mostly read by whom? That's right, women and gay men! I suppose we do want to look better than every other woman when we're in a swimsuit, so maybe sexy-beach editorials give us inspiration to somehow become super sexified. But that's not at all a solid theory.)

 So, now we know exactly how we should look at the beach. All we need is a skinny yet toned body, bedroom eyes, sand all over our skin (preferably because we've just had a romp in the sand), water around us, and voilá, we are hot, desirable, skinny bitches.

Seriously, though, there are some wonderful beach editorials out there. They're not all like this, thank the Ten Commandments.

 

This photo appears more sexy and alluring to me than the others. I want this dress; I do not want those swimsuits.

And I must admit, I am the girl who has to have a new swimsuit every summer, mostly because my friends can't see me in the same swimsuit that I wore last summer! That would simply be a catastrophe!

(all photos via fashinogonerogue)

Ooh la la

The Mother came to visit my sister and I this weekend for Easter, and I must display what she wore. I convinced her to buy these pants from JCrew:

 

I love them. I'm thinking maybe she'll get tired of them and then give them to me.


AND BREAKING NEWS!!!!!!!!! I HAVE A PICTURE OF AN OUTFIT I WORE, INCLUDING MY BODY IN THE ACTUAL OUTFIT!

So, this is what I wore before we went to see Win Win (which was really good. Go see it...or rent it...or don't see it, whatever is your preference).

Um, I think I have to say where I got everything...? Scarf, some hippie store somewhere; shirt (as well as camisole underneath it that you can't see), Gap; sequined shorts, Forever 21; shoes, Target; purse, Goodwill. I'd tell you where I got my underwear, too, but I don't remember what I was wearing. Actually, I think they're from Victoria's Secret.

Last night, we went to a friend's house to play boardgames, and we played some ridiculously long and simply arduous games. (I'm reading Auntie Mame, so I feel the need to make everything sound terribly dramatic.) I hate board games, especially if they're long. Give me Candy Land or Chutes and Ladders, and I'm a happy camper. Give me some kind of strategy game (think Risk but a lot more complicated), and I end up zoning out and making random plays, usually. So I ended up eating a lot of junk food that was there to cure my boredom.

And today, I slept until 10:30. That's a looooooooong time for me to sleep in. I also took a picture of Boy and a picture of some flowers on a tree. These photos are very promising; I just know they're going to impress all Important Photographer everywhere!

See?!?! Isn't this photo just full of life and love and joy and raw energy and spirituality?!?!

Hope ya'll had a lovely Jesus Rebirthday Day!

There's a way, I know

Okay. I'm having a complete freak out over here. Kaskade, my favorite DJ/producer since I started listening to house/trance/electronic music, is going to be in Chicago — THAT IS, 3 HOURS AWAY FROM ME — on May 27.

HOWEVER, the venue's no longer selling tickets online! This means that I'd have to buy at the door and THAT means that I'd have to stand in line (maybe there won't be a line?) and risk NOT getting in!

GUYS, I'M SERIOUSLY GOING TO DIE.

That was a little dramatic.

So, I am currently not sure if I'm going to go and try to get in, anyway. I really, really, REALLY want to. I want to dance my ass off to the wonderful melodic sounds that only Kaskade can provide with house music. I'm not kidding. He is the BEST at creating melodies that actually fit with the backing music.

Here are some of my favorite songs in dedication of his Chicago show:






(Get past the first 40 seconds or so, and it gets good. to be honest, I can't stand beats without any sort of melody going. Drives my ears crazy. Also, this is not the album version...it's a tad different)


BLUGHHH ARGHGHGH. (That was my existential moan for the day.)

Something Kinda Funny - my first and certainly not last Spice Girls reference

A lot of times I feel constrained by my job, by my attachments to whoever I might be seeing at the time (or not seeing), by society's expectations for me as a woman, etc. Sometimes these restrictions are valid and realistic, and other times I let them stand in my way when I could rid myself of them instead. I could get a new job, or I could just change my outlook on the job I have.

The more I think about it, I find freedom is a state of mind. Like Lydia said in a comment here, as long as what a person does feels authentic, a sense of freedom comes naturally. More than what a person actually does, it comes down to a person being authentic in the first place, to staying to true to one's self. I'd think if someone wants to do authentic things, then he'd have to be an authentic being first. (Side note, if you want to know more about authenticity, most of the existential philosophers wrote about it, like Kierkegaard, Heidegger, and Sartre.)

(coutequecoute)

Our society's lack of accepting who we are and being totally cool with ourselves stands in the way of feeling free. We "need" plastic surgery to look better, we "need" to like the right music/movies/food/clothes, we "need" to constantly search for love, we "need" to be busy all the time ('cause if not, we're just lazy — not taking a break). But when it comes down to it, the things that hold us back from true freedom are just a bunch of hullabaloo. 

(other photos via fashiongonerogue)

Firstly, I love the lyrics of this song. It reminds me of how I felt in high school: cynical.

Secondly, I'd like to address one of my questions in my previous post. Flirting.

Flirting has always kind of confused me, and that's usually due to the fact that I have no idea what flirting means. Because it's so dependent on the situation, I find the whole act of flirting to be annoying (even though I still do it and I'm still occasionally on the receiving end of it).

Here are the scenarios where I generally experience flirting (that is, when I do it, and when I am the recipient of it):

1) At a bar. Sometimes guys are very direct at bars, and sometimes they're totally skittish. I remember one time I was at a college bar with some friends, and this guy who'd been blatantly staring came up and told me, "You're fucking gorgeous!" I was put off by the adjective...what's wrong with just saying a woman is gorgeous? Anyway, after he says that and I thank him, he asks me for my phone number. I decline, thinking "what the hell? why don't you buy me a drink first and then maybe I'll give you my number." He went away after my resolute "no."

2) Drunken escapades - not necessarily at a bar. The really drunken flirting is the most confusing. Is it only due to the lowered inhibitions? Is it "hey, I think you're pretty/funny/intelligent/something interesting"? Is it "I'm lonely, and you're alright, let me touch you. I need physical contact"? Is it "I like this other girl in the room, so I'm going to try to make her jealous by paying attention to you instead"?

Yes, I've thought a lot about these drunken scenarios.

3) Male-friends who are currently the platonic type but have the possibility of being something more. In these situations, I've noticed it really depends on the man and how he is with women in general. As we all know, some people flirt like it's their job. Anyway, flirting still happens with the platonic friendships, but in my experience, it's usually not the touchy-feely kind; it's more of a joke-around-make-fun-of-you kind of thing.

Woooow. Okay. Now that I've got that out of the way, I still don't know what flirting is and what it means. Clearly I take it too seriously. Honestly, if a man has only platonic feelings for me, I'd prefer absolutely no flirting. When I flirt, ninety-nine percent of the time it means I have some sort of interest in the guy. Of course, not everyone acts like me, so I'm kind of coming to the conclusion that flirting is like a sport; can I get you to like me or not? Will I win in this battle of vanity and egocentricity?

And I just thought of something. Let's say I'm talking to Man Z, we strike up a conversation, blah blah, blatant flirting. Maybe the only reason we're flirting is to validate the others' intrinsic value. Surely we're more secure in ourselves than to resort to flirting as a means to feel worthy. I hope so, at least.

But, you tell me. What do you consider to be flirting, and what does it mean?

Scream and shout; my time's never cheap.

It's pouring outside. I have a large hangover. I'm listening to Air and Sneaker Pimps. But not simultaneously.

There are two questions on my mind at the moment, but I'm too hungover to flesh out any semblance of an answer.

1) What does it mean to be completely free? Is it a way of being or a lack of physical constraints? Or both?
2) Why do we flirt? And why does it always feel so meaningless when the flirtation game is over?

 (fashiongonerogueeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)

And I'm going to get answer to those questions...once I can think in a more linear manner.

Oh, and thank you, commentors, for being really nice and cool. I appreciate it. Merci! Gracias! Auf-weidersen. (too lazy to look up that spelling)