missed connections

Acne sweater and shorts, Gap jacket, Alex & Ani bangles courtesy of Alex & Ani, Topshop boots



you know that story?

how someone was flying over the ocean

and looked down

and saw people

and he said to someone "look! they're waving at us"

and he was told "no, they're drowning"

only the dead stay seventeen forever

Photography by Nobuyoshi Araki

Flowers as memento mori.

cinematic

via tsf

Photography by Inez & Vinoodh

Great cover.

cool off

via tp

Photography by Peter Lindbergh

the collector

His place was like a museum. There was so much art everywhere. I went upstairs to use the bathroom. More art wrapped up in paper. "Careful not to touch anything," I told myself. Then I tripped on a vacuum cleaner... damn.

I was his object.

In the morning, I woke up next to him; it felt nice to be close. I noticed he put up a new painting. Pretty. I watched him get ready to take a shower; a cue for me to get dressed.

On my way out, he asked me, "How's your life?" to which I responded by looking away. He asked me again, "How's your life?"

"It's fine," I said.

Except it wasn't fine.

"I read your Facebook. The one about the girl in the New York Times. It was funny."

I couldn't remember what he was talking about. He was reading up on me. But I was right here.

"Are those shoes new?"

I wore them on our first date.

"Did you cut your hair?"

Like a month ago.

Collectors are like that. They don't have to interact with their beloved objects all the time. It's just... there. And every now and then they take an interest, but otherwise, there's no upkeep. His life was like a museum. Well curated. But poorly kept.

how's your life?

I sat on a friend's patio in Lake Tahoe exchanging love letters with someone who was very far away.

Don't fade away from me, okay? I wrote. Except it wasn't really a question. It felt more like I was talking to myself.

I get so anxious these days. My back hurts. And every morning I have to crack my right elbow just to feel some kind of relief.

In Tahoe, I would wake up before everyone else, drink a glass of water, read every article about Rupert Murdoch, and stare at the lake.

I like having you around... it's nice to have someone to share my thoughts with. Talking to myself again.

It's kind of funny how close you feel to someone who's so far away. I wasn't sure what he was doing in Europe. To be honest, I didn't ask.

That night, I got a text back.

I am in Spain where English news abounds. The downfall of Murdoch has been wonderful to watch as he has been the proverbial boogeyman who has haunted since my childhood.

As for the rest, we are both restless. There is a language we share that few others recognize. I would be lying if I said I didn't think of you fondly, and often. The like functionality of being around is a door that swings both ways.

Your thoughts are embraced wherever I exist.

The air was nice; I slept outside. The lake is beautiful at night. They say thinking about the future can be so pleasurable that sometimes we'd rather think about it than get there. I was afraid. I was afraid that next time would not be as perfect as this.

I knew when I'd see him, he'd ask me, "How's your life?" This time I wouldn't have an answer. What happens when "How's your life?" no longer becomes relevant.

vacation

Quite possibly the most relaxing long weekend of my life. Let's just say, when your biggest decision of the day consists of, "hot dog or hamburger?", "pool or beach?," you know you have it made.

The most amazing and terrifying experience was jumping off a fifty foot cliff into a river at Emerald Pools in Lake Tahoe. It's so out of character for me. But that's exactly why I did it. And with all your friends jumping and telling you that it's safe (it's really really not), I knew I would never be able to have this moment again.

a few staples:

T by Alexander Wang sweater, UNIF t-shirt

A few staples: I like clean clothes that look good dirty. Slightly subversive, but not obnoxiously so.

chipped paint

1. Margiela SS11 bracelet via Selectism

2. Hedi Slimane

3. Lana Del Rey



Chipped paint, sweet rides, and the most beautiful song in the world.

denim x 2

Top: Ellison shirt courtesy of Shock Boutique, Seven "A" pocket flares, H&M men's belt
Bottom: Jcrew shirt, Levi's diy shorts, drugstore sheer tights

What I've been wearing lately. Mostly worn with a pair of Margiela sandals and my first ever pedicure (it's the truth). I retired my plaid shirt in favor of this blue gingham. But now I think I should retire these denim shorts as well. I ordered a pair of Acne faded black chinos which fit absolutely perfect. Always a fan of low rise. Is it sad I don't own more clothes? I just want everything to look like I've owned it for years.

Girls will always be girls.

Wearing a very girly and playful Erin Fetherston x Target chiffon dress, vintage loafers



INSPIRING WORDS OF THE DAY:


"I think personal style starts from within because it's a philosophy and an attitude. If you're honest and true to yourself, you will have the best sense of personal style. If you try and be someone else, it will never work because it's always very transparent when somebody is trying to mimic someone else. Less is always more with personal style. Just know yourself, know what works for you and be naturally confident in expressing that." --Stella McCartney

jpegz

1. Megan Fox porn
2. Margiela sandals and Essie "Funky Limelight"

city of 7's

"If San Francisco is a city of 7's. Portland is like a city of 3's."

"Well… what am I?"

"You're kind of in your own world. You've got kind of a fucked up aesthetic. And you've got kind of a fucked up way of talking."

That was the first time I'd ever heard myself described so succinctly. For the rest of the night I kept thinking, I just want him to show me things. I just want him to show me everything...

But the timing was off.

For weeks and months we would try to get together. I think about all the questions I wanted to ask him. The advice I wanted him to give me. But when the time came it was either too late, or not appropriate, or the movie was starting, or I'd honestly just forgotten.

I wanted to look nice for him. Something would always go wrong there too. I remember putting on my favorite dress. It was cold so I decided to grab stockings. These look nice, I thought. When I put them on they were ripped. Totally ripped.

He started to fade away. I could feel it. They say it's better to burn out than to fade away. I wanted reassurance. I wanted him to say, "Baby, I'll be gone for awhile. Don't worry. I'm still here. Wait for me."

I guess... just because you "get" someone. Doesn't mean you know what to do with them.