11.8.17

081117.


Vest: Varosh (also, borrowed from my brother w/o permission...) | Sports bralette: PINK | Skirt: Elie Tahari (DIY cut) | Mules: Dr. Scholl's 

FRIDAY. "Happy weekend" for those of you who find that applicable. I'll join you for Happy Hour, in spirit (vodka, to be precise), while reminding myself every day of the week as it comes, for orientation purposes. Example: Jessie, today is Friyay. You're in Seattle. Here are some black clothes to keep you stable. Otherwise ticking off to-dos when I can, liiiiike getting a haircut. 

We all know I'm not one to consult when it comes to maintaining the locks (if only I could just wash and wear, take little care). But the situation was dire... It's pictured here in a messy chignon because I was en route to getting a professional haircut. A few nights prior, I was found holding pair of shears up to my head, ready to saw off the matted pseudo-dreads that had formed over the course of the last 2 months. It was my mother who found me and it was she who --over a course of 4 hours over 3 days-- oiled/brushed them out. And then Elizabeth over at Collage Salon rescued it some more by chopping off a hands length of ruined ends and introducing me to Bumble and Bumble Grooming Creme, "for those who love to look polished, elegant, and smooth but hate to work at it." 

✋ Me. That's me. I hate working at it.
 Excellent marketing.
And now I'm that much closer to being "normal." Godforbid.








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