I just re-added Bloglovin and they make me put this "Follow my blog with Bloglovin" thing on my latest post to get them to recognize my blog.
I was told that once by my roommate. For some reason she hates this hat I'm wearing. Whateva, refrigerators gon' refrigerate. That's the saying, right?
I love this hat simply because it is ever so slightly reminiscent of a cloche, and goddammit, there is nothing I love more than the 1920's. That decade was my shit. In high school I read EVERY PUBLISHED WORD written by F. Scott Fitzgerald. I read letters he sent to friends, his largely hit or miss short stories, his literary masterpieces... everything. I could not get enough of the man's tales of the Jazz Age.
But I have always been drawn to the 1920's. I mean, a girl like me? I can really get behind a decade devoted to short hair and flat chests. Me, my perpetual pixie cut or bob, and my 32As would have been the pinnacle of hotness, I tell you what.
In fact, me and the Roarin' Twenties kinda got a weird thing going on. Bahb and I were driving in Mexico once on a long, deserted stretch of highway with sand dunes on either side; there were a few worn billboards, and besides that, little else. After a while of contemplation, I turned to him and said, "I've been here before, but it was in the 1920's." It just came out, it felt right, but seriously, what the hell. Bahb gave me a non-committal response on par with, "that's nice, hun."
I mean, is there anyone else out there with an unhealthy obsession with a particular decade?! That's normal, right? RIGHT?
Dress: Dear Creatures
Hat: Pins and Needles (Urban Outfitters)
Purse: Vintage Coach
Shoes: Jeffrey Campbell
Yeah, so anyway, it's starting to look like Rosie is probably going to be popping up into all of these posts from here on out. She is one curious little bean and always wants to know what's going on... and, well, between the deafness and the cataracts, she legitimately needs to get within inches to feel out a situation. Aww, my dear, sweet, geriatric boxer puppy!
All of this talk of my 20's fixation makes me want to revisit the Beautiful and the Damned. While there is currently no time leftover for leisurely romps through imaginationland with my friend, Reading, once my comprehensive is over I intend on making much more time for leisurely reading. There is little more depressing than reading research publication after research publication. Where is the whimsy in that?!
Have wonderful days anyone who may or may not stumble across this.