I promise to post photos of my
The Quintessential Blogger Pose. Swinging bucket bag, hidden face by hair, flinging arms et al.
The Running-Off-This-Terrace-Sionara-Mothafucka Pose. But it doesn't include actual suicide so don't get any crazy ideas again about me and psychiatrist "just chatting to chat," mom.
The Yoga Pose. And you know this doesn't work unless you're wearing flare leg jeans and wedges. Serious bonus points for closed eyeballs.
The Man Repeller Pose. I see London, I see France, I see...yo'ass, girlfriend! And even so...not even a small part of me wants to sleep with you.
The other Man Repeller Pose. Because if you're not going to give me bunny ears, someone else should. And I nominate myself.
And finally, The Pose that tricks you into thinking I'm human, not dancer.
shirt: Acne, flare jeans: Textile Elizabeth + James, necklace: Jimmy Choo x H&M, leopard print belt: J Crew, rings: Kimberly Baker and DANNIJO, shoes: Christian Louboutin, bucket bag: Hobo International.
I miss you already. My tear drops turn to cries and those cries turn to wails and the wails turn to...a reason to don harem pants! It's a quick fix. Now, Happy Easter and Passover. Please wear neons, pastels, lots of organza and flatforms to keep the flame of my soul ignited this week.
Sincerely,
Your Resident Drop Crotch





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