you can't wipe away those christmas tears.

final exams are over, and school's out for winter break. so you know what that means... i'm going to be sending letters to my penpals, watching lots of anime, and making holiday-themed twee pop playlists (as evidenced here).


poor students dream of marx.

(thrifted dress, random hat and scarf)

studying sociology has been rather enlightening. it has forced me to become more self-aware (aka disgusted with myself). like, here i am swiping away on my iphone, surrounded by other kids on their iphones, all of us drinking starbucks and tweeting about our classist privilege. nice. :-)


i kiss the flower in bloom.

(american apparel jumper, second-hand dress, basic mary-janes)

dedicating an outfit to blooming flowers before winter weather sets in. oh, and i was recently named a 'style icon' on chictopia. i am immensely flattered to help represent such a wonderful fashion community. so thank you.


meow meow meow meow meow!

(thrifted sweatshirt, random hat and socks, american apparel skirt, basic mary-janes)

i'm 100% unabashedly in love with cat sweatshirts. (i own seven now.) this one was an exceptionally good find - note the pink bow, floral print, and leaf detailing. and although you can't really tell, the white cat is covered in glitter... glitter. 


cupcakes and teenage runaways.

(thrifted dress, hat with added white lace ribbon, random socks, basic mary-janes)

um, hi. i'm just sobbing over how perfect molly ringwald's wardrobe is in pretty in pink (lace collars, floral vests, ill-fitting cardigans) and throwing popcorn at the screen because john hughes managed to sum up my entire high school existence within the first five minutes.
"have you been asked to the prom?" "no, not yet."


virgin suicides, what was that she cried.

(thrifted blouse and school uniform skirt, random lace socks, basic mary-janes)

dressing in a slightly glorified catholic school uniform and feeling pretty 'virgin suicides.' writing daydreams in diaries, growing seahorses inside drinking glasses, and sneaking onto rooftops to fool around with boys. the tragic deterioration of youth. the imprisonment of being a girl. 

“added to their loveliness was a new mysterious suffering, perfectly silent, visible in the blue puffiness beneath their eyes or the way they would sometimes stop in mid-stride, look down, and shake their heads as though disagreeing with life.” 
-jeffrey eugenides, the virgin suicides


antique shop.

the haunted antique shop is the only place i feel at home - so dusty, so decrepit, and full of pretty things... oh and porcelain cats - can't forget about those porcelain cats.


cos you're my beatnik boy, you make me jump with joy.

(american apparel beret, skirt and tights, thrifted turtleneck sweater)

going to a coffeeshop dressed like a beatnik almost feels a little too post-ironic. like at any given moment, i could start tapping on a couple of bongo drums, talking about jack kerouac, and reading off my tweets as if they were modern beat poetry... oh god.


i'm a burning candle, you're a gentle moth.

(thrifted sweater, american apparel skirt, romwe platforms)

while rummaging through the massive collection of moth-eaten garments at my local thrift store, i happened upon this sweater. it reminded me of something rivers cuomo (weezer frontman) would have worn in the mid-1990s when he was all cute and mopey...


photo diary.

dreary days or whatever.


taking toffee with your vicodin, something sweet to forget about him.

(vintage dress, random hat and socks, topshop mary-janes)

autumn classes have started up again, which means i'll be spending the majority of my time treking across campus in impractical shoes and crying studying at the library. but there is something undeniably romantic about the endless rows of dusty books - each one filled with the stains of a former student's blood and tears... the sweet smell of desolation...


crush the flowers.

(vintage dress and necklace, american apparel beret, faux suede heels)

sometimes i forget what it means to dress in a way that's 'seasonally appropriate.' is wearing a tulip print dress in september still considered okay or whatever?


if you want to know, i'm a don't care bear.

(the vaselines t-shirt, american apparel skirt)

the way of the vaselines is one of my favorite albums of all time, so i scoured down this shirt on ebay. (it's important to represent one's indiepop kid status.) nirvana even covered quite a few of their songs. *a cool tip for awkward social gatherings: start talking about kurt cobain's adoration for twee pop and see if anyone's brain explodes.* trust me, it's fun.


breakfast in cemetery, boy tasting wild cherry.

(vintage blouse, random hat, thrifted purse and gingham skirt, topshop mary-janes) 

the only thing i like about ‘indian summers’ is the fact that there’s a beat happening song named after them. it’s a sweltering 97 degrees today, and i’m this close to curling up inside my freezer and taking a nap. i’d probably dream about wearing this outfit on a romantic picnic date where we’d feed each other strawberries, and i’d pick bugs off his lightweight cardigan. can you handle how sickeningly twee i sound? i can't.