(Photo is of Cait and I at ACL 2010 when we got dressed up and painted ourselves for the Gogol Bordello and M.I.A. shows)On Personal Style and Being  ”Fashionable”I’ve always received questions, comments, compliments, insults, inquiries, and stares about my wardrobe. This is neither a good nor a bad thing. It’s just a thing. I’ve always expressed myself through clothing. I’ve always had something to say about my personal style, and rarely do I have something to say about someone else’s style unless I wish I had their clothes.I honestly do not think that fashion is that important in the grand scheme of things. It’s fluff, and it means different things to different people. For instance, I loved this 60’s style bright yellow dress in high school. I would pair it with a big black sparkly belt that I still own, and these black and white mod chunky earrings and black tights and black boots. I thought this was amazing. I still think it’s amazing, although now I don’t think I could pull it off (for many reasons, one being that the dress was falling apart, but I loved it so much I wore it anyway) However, one day in high school during my sophomore year, I was walking (or strutting, depending on whether or not I had earphones in) and I heard someone speaking loudly, so I turned around and there was a guy standing with friends laughing. I heard him say something about bananas and was horribly embarrassed. I never wore that yellow dress to school again, but I continued to wear many other strange compilations. To me, that outfit was fantastic. To him, I was a sad banana girl. No one will ever know who was right, because fashion is subjective.I do have “fashion rules” and not for anyone else, but for my own self and for my own eyes. I don’t like brown and black. That’s a common one, but I really agree with it. I just don’t like it. I don’t like hot pink sequined-butts. I don’t like pointy toes. I don’t like feather earrings. I don’t like blonde hair. I don’t like purple and orange together. Those sound like “I don’t like these ever” but this is not true, for I have reasons behind all of my ‘don’t’s. I don’t like brown and black because something about it feels dated to me, and when I wear it I’m not confident. I don’t like hot pink sequined-butts because I had a pair of pants like that once and got mocked for trying to fit-in, which I was, so I do not wear hot pink sequined-butts. I don’t like pointy toes because I can’t walk in them and they hurt. I don’t like feather earrings because they get stuck in my hair. I don’t like blonde hair because I have brown eyebrows. I don’t like purple and orange together because orange makes me look washed out and my teeth look yellow.I’m posting this just because this is on my mind lately. Whenever people ask me about my style or clothes, I’m not sure what to say because my rules are different from your rules. And that’s awesome. Chances are I’m jealous that your rules can pull off different things. If you’re wearing stuff that makes you happy and you feel confident in, I think you’re doing it right. I don’t care if its sweatpants and a bathing suit top or an evening gown and some flip-flops. Just be happy with whatever it is.Who gives a shit? No one! People do not care as much as you think they do. They really don’t. No one is noticing that stray hair and that your eyeliner-lines aren’t perfectly equal. I’m also posting this because sometimes I feel like I over-do it. Maybe I care too much about fashion, and I have anxiety that others disapprove or feel like I might be judging them. Maybe I’m crazy, but that’s just how it feels.I want you to know that you are fucking fantastic. Your clothes are awesome, and the clothes you want are great but won’t change how fucking fantastic you are. Wear whatever the fuck you want, and everyone who doesn’t like it or makes you feel like your happiness doesn’t matter, is wrong. It does matter, and you should be happy. If you don’t give a shit about clothes, don’t. Care about your stuff and believe that it is worth caring about because it is. It’s worth caring about having great books and not liking other books. It’s what makes you awesome. Your opinions are valid and important.  You are fucking fantastic.

(Photo is of Cait and I at ACL 2010 when we got dressed up and painted ourselves for the Gogol Bordello and M.I.A. shows)

On Personal Style and Being  ”Fashionable”

I’ve always received questions, comments, compliments, insults, inquiries, and stares about my wardrobe. This is neither a good nor a bad thing. It’s just a thing. I’ve always expressed myself through clothing. I’ve always had something to say about my personal style, and rarely do I have something to say about someone else’s style unless I wish I had their clothes.

I honestly do not think that fashion is that important in the grand scheme of things. It’s fluff, and it means different things to different people. For instance, I loved this 60’s style bright yellow dress in high school. I would pair it with a big black sparkly belt that I still own, and these black and white mod chunky earrings and black tights and black boots. I thought this was amazing. I still think it’s amazing, although now I don’t think I could pull it off (for many reasons, one being that the dress was falling apart, but I loved it so much I wore it anyway) However, one day in high school during my sophomore year, I was walking (or strutting, depending on whether or not I had earphones in) and I heard someone speaking loudly, so I turned around and there was a guy standing with friends laughing. I heard him say something about bananas and was horribly embarrassed. I never wore that yellow dress to school again, but I continued to wear many other strange compilations. To me, that outfit was fantastic. To him, I was a sad banana girl. No one will ever know who was right, because fashion is subjective.

I do have “fashion rules” and not for anyone else, but for my own self and for my own eyes. I don’t like brown and black. That’s a common one, but I really agree with it. I just don’t like it. I don’t like hot pink sequined-butts. I don’t like pointy toes. I don’t like feather earrings. I don’t like blonde hair. I don’t like purple and orange together. Those sound like “I don’t like these ever” but this is not true, for I have reasons behind all of my ‘don’t’s. I don’t like brown and black because something about it feels dated to me, and when I wear it I’m not confident. I don’t like hot pink sequined-butts because I had a pair of pants like that once and got mocked for trying to fit-in, which I was, so I do not wear hot pink sequined-butts. I don’t like pointy toes because I can’t walk in them and they hurt. I don’t like feather earrings because they get stuck in my hair. I don’t like blonde hair because I have brown eyebrows. I don’t like purple and orange together because orange makes me look washed out and my teeth look yellow.

I’m posting this just because this is on my mind lately. Whenever people ask me about my style or clothes, I’m not sure what to say because my rules are different from your rules. And that’s awesome. Chances are I’m jealous that your rules can pull off different things. If you’re wearing stuff that makes you happy and you feel confident in, I think you’re doing it right. I don’t care if its sweatpants and a bathing suit top or an evening gown and some flip-flops. Just be happy with whatever it is.

Who gives a shit? No one! People do not care as much as you think they do. They really don’t. No one is noticing that stray hair and that your eyeliner-lines aren’t perfectly equal. 

I’m also posting this because sometimes I feel like I over-do it. Maybe I care too much about fashion, and I have anxiety that others disapprove or feel like I might be judging them. Maybe I’m crazy, but that’s just how it feels.

I want you to know that you are fucking fantastic. Your clothes are awesome, and the clothes you want are great but won’t change how fucking fantastic you are. Wear whatever the fuck you want, and everyone who doesn’t like it or makes you feel like your happiness doesn’t matter, is wrong. It does matter, and you should be happy. If you don’t give a shit about clothes, don’t. Care about your stuff and believe that it is worth caring about because it is. It’s worth caring about having great books and not liking other books. It’s what makes you awesome. Your opinions are valid and important. 

 You are fucking fantastic.