"aside from your weird socks, your outfit is actually... nice" - my mom

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"All people dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind, wake in the morning to find it was vanity. But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people, for they dream with open eyes, and make the come true."
- D.H. Lawrence

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(Dress - Vintage/ Iceland, Shoes - Vintage $15, Purple Sock - H&M, Pink Sock - Dollarama, Hat - Nepal)

Dreams: exciting and scary.
Chasing dreams: even more exciting and even more scary.
dlakjsldj EEEK. The future is exciting but so scary what am I doing with my life I just want to eat celery just kidding celery is mediocre. (mini reeses pieces cups, on the other hand, are extraordinary.)
Really, I just want my dreams to come true. And that's scary. But exciting.

This is the shortest blog post in my entire existence.
What's the biggest risk you've ever taken?

P.S. I'm off to Alberta tomorrow! Small-town Alberta! Small-town country Alberta! Lots of fun? ahem, um, anyways... It's a family thing, so heck, IT IS LOTS OF FUN. Big Asian family and uncles and aunts and grandma and cousins and little cousins and ME OH MY. It will be good to be with the family and get my head out of the future for a little while. Aside from family shtuff, there's literally NOTHING to do there. So I'm quite confident that blogging schedule won't be far from normal. Hello Starbucks-and-over-priced-food-and-drinks-but-free-wi-fi. Hello.
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^^Yeah. Sometimes I feel bad for what my sister and I put our dog through...



It wasn’t until I actually looked at these pictures when a marvelous realization came to mind. (“What?” you inquire.) The Sibling and I are both referencing the 70s! WOAH! CHECK OUT THAT GENE POOL OF SIMILARITIES! WHAT A COINKY DINK! (Coinky dink? Ahem. I promise you: I never say that in real life. Ever. I don’t know what’s gotten into me…) My sister’s sleeves just scream “70s,” while the print of my skirt is all “um, 70s disco partayyy, ANYONE?”

To be honest, the 70s isn’t a decade that I’ve given much thought. I fawn over the 60s… then I tend to fast-forward to the 80s. Nonetheless, there are some select memory packets that percolate when the decade comes to mind. For instance:
1. I totally had a 70s themed Bratz doll. Her name was Felicia (or something) and she had marvelous flippy hair. She came with flared jeans and a belly shirt. (In retrospect, those dolls are utterly horrendous. I'm a little embarrassed. For them, of course. Not the fact that I played with them up until seventh grade. NOPE NOT AT ALL.)
2. My sibling and I used to own a dandy Fisher Price tape machine. It was plastic. You could put a tape (aww, tapes!) in and record yourself. We would often team up with our childhood best friend to have some snazzy singing sessions. One of our favourite tunes was “Stayin’ Alive.” However, I must admit that, at the time, I didn’t realize we were singing “Ooh, ooh, oooh, ooh, stayin’ alive.” I was fully singing, “Oooh, ooh, ooh, oooh, stain glass.” Awk-ward.

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Once upon a time, Mimi bought this dress. Once upon a time, I was shocked. We both decided that this dress is completely out of her character. And that it desperately calls for some grass-woven headbands and dream catcher necklaces and maybe even a ukulele. Nonetheless, it’s cute.
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When I was eating breakfast, my mom excitedly informed me, “The weather is cool outside!” I felt like a child on Christmas: I was prancing and dancing and praising Hallelujah! Seriously. (If you lived in my region then YOU’D KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.) The weather here has been so humid; I take my animal for a pee, and come in looking like my dad when he drinks soup on a hot day (disgustingly and oddly sweaty). Pretty picture in your head? No. Now you understand my excitement at “weather” and “cool” in the same sentence. Unfortunately, that wasn’t QUITE the case, as my sweaty legs and body informed me. Ahem. Anyways, moral of the story is, “The weather is cool outside” should really be “the weather is cool outside relative to what it was earlier” i.e. you can tolerate outside only if you’re in the nude. In conclusion, Southern Ontarian weather ain't good times.
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#selfiesrock #thisweathersucks #wewillsuckitupforthesakeofbeingtotalcamwhores #WERENOTTWINS2every1asking
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(On Me (Lexy): Shirt - Value Village/ Thrifted $3, Flashdance-esque Skirt - Homemade, Tights - Pacific Mall $5, Shoes - Salvation Army/ Thrifted $7, Belts - Thrifted $1 each, Bangles - H&M, Ring - Value Village, Balloon Bib - Homemade)
(On Mimi (younger sibling!): Dress - Topshop, Shoes - Iceland, Bag - Vintage Dooney&Bourke)

I love how distinct the fashions of past decades were. I adore pouring through coffee books and fawning over the goodies of the generations before me. I miss the days when people used to just dress up for the sake and fun of dressing up. I’m not dissing today's fashions, by any means. Today, there’s undoubtedly a huge amount of freedom and availability and equality that makes dressing up today oodles of fun, too. Maybe even more fun because we don’t have as many societal restrictions. Yet, the majority of people I encounter seem to be all drab and blah. That's okay, too, of course. Whatever rock your boat. But still, it makes me wonder what the streets would be like in the old days...

In conclusion, I’ve decided that my future boyfriend will wear bowties and suspenders. On a daily basis. Willingly. Because he’ll just be swell like that.

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What do you think of them fashions of today?


the land of ice

I'm BAAAACKKK. Did you sugar plums miss me? Were you bawling over your computer, highly anticipating this post? Tears trinkling down your face as you sob, "Leexyyyyy, whereeee arttt thouuuu"?

No, you say. No? NO?! NOOOO?! *Dramatic cries. Thunderous screaming. Maybe some hyperventilation for good measure. Like a storm. Then I calm down. Like the calm... after the storm? (Okay, I know it's all about the "calm before the storm." But I think the "calm after the storm" is equally sufficient and realistic and anyways, that's besides the point.)*

Oh, right. Silly me. You probably forgot I was gone. You probably didn't even realize. Why? Because I still posted! Because I planned it all out! Because I CARE! Don't you say that I don't take CARE of you! (That's my dad's favourite line. He utilizes it whenever he performs godly tasks for me. Most recently? He smuggled three chocolate chip cookies from his conference in a napkin and stuffed it in his pocket and gave 'em to me for the plane ride. He's a saint. I love him.)

Anyways. I thought I'd divulge a handful of the, um, 1200+ photos I took over the past week. Iceland was a really beautiful place. Different from what I expected. (No, I didn't picture it as, well, a land of ice. NO, NOT AT ALL, DON'T BE LUDICROUS.) (Okay, FINE. But my sister and I bonded over this likeliness in thinking. I AM NOT A WACKO. Or maybe, we both are. You know. Genes and things.) It was a really beautiful place - very vast. There's something like 3 people for every 1 square kilometer. There's something about the vastness and beauty and just... THEREness (?) of nature that just screams, "dude. you're just an insignificant human being on this gigantic planet." I don't mean that in a bitter way. In fact, quite the contrary. I almost like this feeling. Yes, it makes me feel small and worthless and hey-you'll-die-one-day-but-nature-will-still-be-there (or so I freaking hope. hear that people? love the earth!). But there's also something about this feeling of insignificance that ignites thoughts of, "DUDE. You are so insignificant! Your actions don't have a huge impact on the world! Therefore, DO WHAT YOU WANT." It's a little marvelous.

Right now, I'm kind of in a limbo of anticipation. I have no idea what the next year will bring. But I guess a lot of moments of this trip sparked thoughts of, "ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE."

I swear, kids, my head is always up in the clouds.

Where do you see yourself one year from now?

Oh, and here are some of the many, many, many pictures from Iceland. We got to go do a lot of fun and crazy and memorable and beautiful things. My mom books a lot of tours when we travel (i.e. every possible time slot). She is anal like that. I hope you enjoy. I was going to commentate these photos, but I realize that I'll probably start sharing stories about how I tried to smuggle pretty poisonous sea urchins home with a six-year-old girl or how I secretly attempted to send my horse off the path for a wilder ride... so I think I won't. If you have inquiries and things, send them this way. There were many marvelous "this is like a postcard" moments. xxx merry days and stuff.

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Click here for more photos! Oooh...


strawberry shortcake banana split

Welcome to another edition of a scheduled post! These freak me out. I feel slightly godly, like I'm capable of controlling the future or something. SHABAM! KAPOW! RAVEN! My pulse is racing, my adrenaline pumping, I'm dancing in the air, I'm... getting excited about scheduled posts? Awkward, as we all conclude "well, Lexy is a major dork."

Swift transition to outfit post, shall we?
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I love both of these prints dearly. It reminds me of childhood books and the likes, so it's fairly wonderful and dreamy and ooh la la-y. I love that feeling.
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We're interrupting the scheduled program to WORSHIP THIS BAG BECAUSE IT'S AMAZING. My mom kindly gifted it to me when I stumbled upon it at an outdoor art show in Toronto. By "I stumbled upon," I mean to say, "I started jumping up and down and squealing LOOK AT THESE BAGS THEY'RE SO COOL. LOOK AT THEM! MOOOM! LOOK!" Same thing, basically.
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Please look at my animal's face in the right picture. Her eyeball is about 3 millimeters away from popping at out of the socket and being shot like a cannon into space. It's hilarious. We have a great, loving, healthy relationship. Obviously.
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This outfit actually reminds me of the sixties. This is dandy as, hey, I adore the sixties! If I could go back an era, I think I would rewind to the sixties. It feels as though there was an incredible energy and spirit at that time. The kind of energy that I feel like we’re incapable of having in the future as we’ve entered a technological era and, well, revolutionary acts don’t really happen unless it involves phrases related to technology.

For instance, the whole “Ipad replacing print” thing? That type of revolution? Freaked the bejeezus out of me. I’m such an old grandma when it comes to technology, cursing it with my quivering fake teeth and slamming my cane on the ground (not actually). I know this is ironic as I have a blog and am engrossed in technology and what not but, meh. It really freaks me out.

Take Facebook. I’m very intrigued with Facbeook. Not addicted (thankfully!), just intrigued. They say that it makes us “more connected.” Sure, it does. If I want to, I can see where my friends from elementary school are going to university. What my camp friend from six years ago is doing this summer. In that shallow, vague, creepy way, yes, I am connected. But I think that it’s also very dangerous. People are beginning to replace virtual connections – messages via “wall-to-wall” – with real life conversations. And quite frankly, they’re nowhere near on the same level. It freaks me out. I just want to sip tea and talk about the weather with friends. IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK FOR?

(Ohhhh, the irony! Do you kids want to like me on Facebook now?)

1. What era would YOU like to live in? 2. Thoughts on technology? Facebook? Connectivity? The future?

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(Shirt - Vintage $7, Shorts - homemade, Shoes - Value Village $7, Hat - Nepal, Gloves - Vintage $2, Hairbows - Lens Mills, Amazing Bag - Guy Incognito, Dog - Some Farm)


witnessing awkward back hugs makes me giggle. and feel slightly awkward.

Everybody knows that the first step in overcoming an addiction is admitting you have a problem.

Insert dramatic pause. Nervous shuffles. Maybe even some heavy breathing exercises.

Hello. My name is Lexy, and I am addicted to StyleLikeU. Phew. There. I said it. I’m addicted. I’m not sure when this addiction began. I can’t pinpoint the exact date, the exact moment. But all I can say is: this addiction was STRONG. Right from that moment – whatever “that” moment was – I was completely, totally, and utterly hooked. I watch videos daily. I go through pages and pages and pages. It’s dangerous. Time-consuming. I’m worried. I, Lexy, would like to overcome this addiction.

WAIT. Backtrack. WHAT? “I, Lexy, would like to overcome this addiction.” Dear Lexy, you are wack. This is a marvelous addiction for an even more marvelous site. For any fashion lovers out there, I invite you all to worship the brilliance of StyleLikeU with me. It’s a magnificent hub of videos that celebrates people who celebrate creativity and individuality and style and art and AH IT MAKES ME SO EXCITED.

Seriously. This site is so incredibly inspiring. Whenever I watch some of those videos, I have a moment where I channel my inner tribalness, as I call “I’ve found my people” and pound on my chest like Tarzan/ hyena.

There’s hundreds of videos (as an addict, gosh, I don’t even think I’ve seen them all. I’m getting there, don’t you fret!). But since I’m a good citizen and what not, I’m going to share some of my personal favourites. In no particular order, these are some of the goodies that I keep bookmarked and watch obsessively because I have a life like that. (Note: This is a scheduled post. Finger's crossed that the links work. If not, just click on the names and jazz.)

1. Fay Leshner. I think this was the first video that I stumbled upon. She is such a visionary. She makes me want to create and experiment oodles. It’s incredible.

Fay Leshner for Stylelikeu.com from StyleLikeU on Vimeo.

2. Rachel Tratchenburg. This sounds creepy, but I feel like she’s like a soul sister. (Except for not really as I find that term rather bizarre.) I feel like we’d get along marvelously. And I’d steal her swell collection of colourful dresses, eeek.

Rachel Trachtenburg for Stylelikeu.com from StyleLikeU on Vimeo.

3. Rinat Welsing. AH THIS GUY HAS AMAZING ENERGY. We are like the same person, only he is a boy and much cooler than me. I literally squealed at his voodoo doll keychain look alike - I do the same. We are the same.

Rinat Welsing from Stylelikeu.com from StyleLikeU on Vimeo.

4. Natalie Gibson. There’s nothing more I want right now than to BECOME this woman when I am older. She is so dreamy. That sounds like I’m describing the chizzled male actor posters in teenie magazines. But I think that’s the word. Dreamy, whimsical… It’s amazing.

Natalie Gibson from StyleLikeU on Vimeo.

So there you have it! I have a billion other favourite videos that I’ll undoubtedly indulge in soon and potentially post. Whenever I watch these videos, I instantly flash-forward my life to me stomping the streets in New York City in layers of fantastical clothing and indulging in creative goodies everyday with people who are doing the same. I get so much comfort from these videos, that it’s bordering ridicule. Bordering.

1. If you’re a StyleLikeU fan, who are YOUR favourite muses? Send links!
2. What’s your favourite website?


I've seen the first Harry Potter movie! That's the extent of my relationship with Harry. Guilty. What? You're unfollowing me?

This was a fun outfit to wear. Fancy hair pieces and gloves make me feel like a fancy shmancy girl. Like, I should be sipping martinis and owning a Blackberry and gossiping on the set of Gossip Girl and swooshing my hair and partying with Paris and flashing my crotch and um, yeah. Of course, the fifty cents socks and orange skirt may detract from my inner socialite persona. But still. The principle's there.

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I got this headband for Christmas. AH IT IS BRILLIANT. I love it so much! I desperately wanted to wear it to school one day, but I foresaw the "omg you look like a duck" references, followed by a page 7 for "detracting from the integrity of the school's uniform." So I used my judgement and things. Ohhh, back in high school. (I think I've said that... way too many times. It just doesn't get old!)
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Biggest surprise of my life: my SIBLING made me this broach! It's awesome and so "me"! (Literally. It's my name. HAH.) She's also made me two other broaches! She's the best! She loves me so much! Just kidding. We both (the sibling and I) know that her creation of goodies for me is really code for "my mom thinks that the sibling has a newfound hobby and passion, though it's really just an excuse for her to hibernate in her room and watch Bones." She's even more of a homebody than I am. Whatever, I'm benefiting greatly from her addictive tendencies, so hollaaa! I support this motion!
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The debut of the ORANGE puffy skirt. I really wanted someone to comment something like, "Wow. That skirt makes me happy." and then I could be all, "then ORANGE you glad you saw it?! BAHAHHA. GET IT?!" At last, I didn't even leave the house that day (except to go driving with my mom. I made her nauseous. #icantdrive). This is probably a good thing for the sake of my dignity and ego and things.
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(Shirt - Thrifted $3, Skirt - Homemade, Socks - Dollarama $0.50, Shoes - Vintage $35, Headband - Ophelie Hats, Gloves - Vintage $2, Broach - Homemade via the Sibling)

Current musings. Skip over? Keep reading? Pop popcorn and enjoy the show?

“Life isn’t about finding yourself. It’s about CREATING yourself.”

When I first heard this quote, my life changed. I stopped in my tracks. Took a deep breath. Reevaluated my life. And then, like magic, BAM! Transformation.

Kidding. That was supposed to be an intriguing lure, in a “Wow, Lexy, you are such a fascinating creature and I want to know more about where you’re going with this” kind of way. Or make me seem like a lunatic. Either or. The reality is, well, not that exciting. Rewind. When I first heard this quote, I tuned it out. This was my guidance counselor's mantra for my graduating class. I.e. it was blown up on a poster in the hallway with groovy flowers blossoming in the background so you automatically label it as “lame.”

But I’ve recently been pondering it and, well, heck, it’s so true. Throughout my life as a teeniebopper, teachers and parents and romantic comedies and clich├ęs and et cetera have shouted, loud and clear, the whole “be yourself” thing. Be yourself. Simple enough. Except for, you know, the minor fact of, oh, Hi, I’m a lost and moody teenager and, well, I don’t actually know myself very well, at all, so, um, how am I supposed to be myself when I don’t know who I am?!

Consequently, a viable solution isn’t about simply being yourself, but also looking ahead. Becoming yourself. Looking at the things that inspire you, that make you tick, that make you happy. Envisioning the person you want to be, the future that you want to have. And then BAM. Creating it! As a dreamer that spends a great deal of my time in my imaginative future, this concept strikes me as simply wonderful and feasible. After all, I’d like to think that life is more than soul-searching. It’s about evolution and growth. And always being a little dreamy so you can work towards those dreams and visions.

Obviously, I could go on and on about this quote. Weigh the pros and cons about creating oneself. Conduct a survey. Create an accompanying bar graph. Analyze results. Make a backboard. (Okay. I’m getting this confused with science fair.) But I think I’ll leave it for today. I think it just all goes back to the idea that we are in control of who are. We shouldn’t let seeming genes, or mental roadblocks, or society or whatever warp who we want to become. I’m sure we’ve all had instances of, “I would love to be that girl, but…” NO BUTS. We CAN be that girl.

That being said, No, I haven’t found myself, I haven’t created myself. I like to think I have a strong grasp of who I am and what I want. If I’m honest, I have no idea. Right now, I’m an extremely-giggly, overly-excited, socially-awkward seventeen year old mega-dreamer. Will I be the same when I’m thirty? Gosh, I hope not! I’m working on creating myself but the thing is, I’m not sure who I want to be. I have a lot to learn. I’m just going with the wave of my heart. Let’s see where this takes me?

“Life isn’t about finding yourself. It’s about CREATING yourself.” What kind of person would YOU like to be? What characteristics, attributes, lifestyle, etc? Please allow yourself to be a little dreamy…

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P.S. So I'm off to, um, Iceland to day. You know, just a typical day trip and aldjlakjds SCREW IT! I'm going to Iceland! I'm so excited! Whenever people find this out, the response, 87% of the time, is along the lines of "WOW! I've ALWAYS wanted to go Iceland!" Iceland doesn't really strike me as travel cliche, so it leaves me giggling and tempted to call bluff. It's funny. I'm excited. I'll be gone for a week. Don't fret, I have posts sprinkled out for your enjoyment. It's funny how maintaining the blog is part of my pre-travel/ going away routine now...

Happy week, friends!


hearing hinder's "lips of an angel" makes me very nostalgic because it reminds me of awkward middle school slow dances, awww.

I have an I-think-it's-funny-but-maybe-you-had-to-be-there story to go with this title. Once upon a time, Lips of an Angel was randomly playing. (Very random, now that I think of it. That song is ancient.)
Me: Aw, this song makes me super nostalgic... they used to always play it as the last slow song at Middle School dances!
Friend: It makes me sick.
Me: Why?
Friend: Because it's about incest.
*Awkward Pause*
Me: Um. No it's not.
Friend: Yeah. Have you heard the lyrics? "My sister's in the next room, sometimes I wish she were you."
Me: Um. No. It's "my girlfriend's in the next room."
*Awkward Pause*

Yeah. I take that back. You definitely had to be there. But now this song makes me giggle, because of this. Don't you love when songs remind me of something or somewhere or someone or sometime? It's fabulous. (By the way, this friend also thought that Arthur was a freaking mouse even though the entire universe knows that he's an AARDVARK... A-A-R-D-V-A-R-K. Just saying.)

Er. ANYWAYS. *insert smooth transition here to counteract the awkwardness of that unfunny story* ... I thought I'd share my newest sewing concoctions!

1. A skirt. Specifically, A NON PUFFY SKIRT. WHAT IS THIS? BRANCHING OUT? DIVERSITY? I'm such a risk-taker, gosh! Pleats are much more unforgiving than just shoving an elastic at the waist. Especially as I became obsessed with matching the swirly pattern on the pleats of the skirt, hereby making the whole situation significantly more complicated. And then the whole, "Hey! You might as well handsew it all so there's no seams!" Bad idea. Whatever. It's in the past. It worked out. I am joyous!
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2. Yay! SHORTS. I was also tempted to make a puffy skirt out of this fabulous pattern. But mother dearest was all, "You make to many of those puffy skirts." I started to argue. But then... I really couldn't. A billion and two camel-toe problems later... ta-da!
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My brain seems to think that I know how to draft patterns. It is sadly mistaken. I have no idea what I'm doing and I DESPERATELY want to know. What I'm doing, that is. The whole sewing process generally takes a lot more frustration and pulling-my-hair-out feelings than necessary. It would be really magical to be able to be all, "SHABAM MAKE THIS!" and then OOF. It just POPS.

Unfortunately, that's apparently unrealistic or something. Until I can convince my sister to be an inventor and create a genius solution as such (PFT AS IF SHE'S SMART ENOUGH) (jokes, sibz), I definitely want to master the art of sewing, so concoctions can be made without huge reliance on Mr. Stitchripper. They'll call me "Magic Sewing Hands That Doesn't Need A Stitchripper EVER." Or not.

Nonetheless, I'm super content that creative juices have flowed back into my bloodstream. I've been waking up all, "AH! I DON'T HAVE TIME TO DO EVERYTHING!" which is, legitimately, one of my very favourite feelings to wake-up with! Seriously. It's bizarre. On days when I'm like, "Wow! I have nothing to do today!" It's more of an, "AGRH. I have NOTHING to do today." So this is good news. My bedroom floor - or lack thereof, harhar - is a testament of my creative gremlins. Or maybe just my inner pig. And this is just my bedroom floor.
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Shabam! Goodies to come. Outfit post soonsies. Pinky promise!

What's something that you'd like to learn more about or maybe even master?


my dad is so in the know with modern celebrity culture. he totally referenced justin beaver. yes, beaver.

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Speedy post here, snookums. Just thought I'd share some recent creations. I did these just for funzies. I'm calling this "The Red Balloon Series." Because that's not at all obvious and very creative and endearing. (hi, sarcasm.) Do you like them? Oh really, you do? Well, gosh, maybe you should PURCHASE THEM. Maybe. If you want. (See how classy and discreet I am, just casually mentioning how they are at a very reasonable price over at etsy? High quality prints? Very unique? I am annoying? Yes, yes, yes, yes!)

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Image and video hosting by TinyPic
(Watercolour, pen&ink)

But I hope you like them. They were fun to create! I'm obsessing over this line/ shading style. I used it for my play posters and have been abusing them ever since. In a good way. I think.

These fellows all link up to their listing (i.e. just click and buy! simple pimple!) or you can check out the rest of my shop here.

Anyways. I thought I'd shoot you all another hypothetical question because I'm a dork and I get a real kick from your answers. (Oh sweet golly. I just said "I get a real kick." Remember when I said "I'm a dork"? Yeah.) By the way, these questions are stolen from "Klosterman Questions." To be honest, I don't know oodles about them. But I picked up one of his books at the library today, so I'll be giving it a whirl shortly. (Along with approximately 214lbs of other books that I picked up. My arm is no longer in its socket. I learned how to work the dewey decimal system. All by myself! Aw, I'm growing up! I was going to ask an attractive male to help me (because nothing's hotter than knowing the dewey!), but there weren't any attractive males present in my vicinity. Or any other people, really.) ANYWAYS. Question time!

You can listen to this beautiful song while pondering the question. I am caring like that.

In long... You have a brain tumor. Though there is no discomfort at the moment, this tumor would unquestionably kill you in six months. However, your life can (and will) be saved by an operation; the only downside is that there will be a brutal incision to your frontal lobe. After the surgery, you will be significantly less intelligent. You will still be a fully functioning adult, but you will be less logical, you will have a terrible memory, and you will have little ability to understand complex concepts or difficult ideas. The surgery is in two weeks. How do you spend the next fourteen days?

In short... You are having an operation for a brain tumor in two weeks. You will be a fully functioning adult, but significantly less intelligent (less logical, terrible memory, unable to understand complex concepts). How do you spend the next fourteen days?

Have a Thuper Thursday! (That's "Super." With a lisp. Because that creates alliteration. I'm really obsessing over childish alliteration. This is not a good thing. I'm very in tuned with the grade six Lexy. And that's just weird.)

(If you don't have etsy, but you are interested in buying these prints, please contact me: lexyht[at]hotmail[dot]com. We'll werkkk it out.)


buying chocolate covered raisins from bulk barn is rather satisfying

Welcome to a special edition of "Lexy's Go-To Summer Outfit" featuring, well... Lexy's go-to summer outfit. (Is it just me, or did that sentence lack a zesty ring? Shh... Just... pretend there were corresponding tunes. And show girls. And jazz hands. (lots... lots of jazz hands.)) Basically, here's a variation of what I typically throw on in the summer. (Well, minus the blazer. The blazer is thrown on for the purpose of outfit interest (ah, I'm a fraud!). And to fight off the mosquitoes. There are many pesky little creatures in my region during the evening. The blazer shields my arms from their sucking of blood. Apparently it's magical like that.)

My outfits have been feeling uninspired lately. It's essentially a patterned skirt here, a patterned shirt with similar colours there, some accessories la la la... then BAM! KAPOW! EXPLOSION! Out pops a... mediocre outfit. I don't like to play the blame game, so I won't.

On a completely unrelated note, the weather has been extremely humid and energy-sucking. I am not blaming the weather for my outfits' mediocrity these days. This is just a completely random, irrelevant fun fact that I - completely randomly, of course - decided to share.

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After two years, you'd think I'd be tired of this darn puffy skirt style. But let me tell you - YOU'RE THINKING WRONG. Mwahaha. (This evil laugh is code for "Yes, I've already made two more this summer. One features sea creatures. The other features oranges. Yes. Summer heat waves are melting my brain cells only a little bit. (A lot.)")

I just stalked my old post. It was funny. This is what I wrote: "I'm somewhat addicted to making these skirts... I've made six in the past month and I bought fabric for two more! Anyways, I figure I'll get so sick of making them, that I won't make anymore." - Lexy circa 2009. Oh, well. Gosh. That was awkward. Because, you know, I never got sick of making them. So much for my Raven tendencies. You failed me, Raven Baxter. You too, Lexy circa 2009. YOU DIDN'T EVER REALLY KNOW ME, DID YOU?! Failures.
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Like I said, I'm OBSESSED with this little fellow. I attached him to my necklace. They make a pretty fly couple, me thinks. Full of swagger and things.
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(Shirt - Salvation Army $3, Skirt - Homemade, Blazer - Value Village $4, Socks - H&M $2, Shoes - Salvation Army $7, Hairbow - unknown, Keychain - cne, Jewelry - Nepal)

Anyways. Not much to say (SAY WHAT?!). I was going to rant about things, but I decided not to. I was going to write about how I went to the dollar store, but, well, now you know. I went to the dollar store. (OOH STAY TUNED. I made something. It made me laugh. My sister responded with disgust. Picture a pig-like facial expression, followed by a "That's psychotic. You're not actually going to wear it... Please. Don't wear it." #honesty #siblinglove #oohintenseareyoustokedforafuturepostnow)

Have a merry evening, friends! Tomorrow I have my first in-car driver's class. As in, I'll be driving a car. If you live in my town Southern Ontario Canada the Universe EVERYONE, don't go outside tomorrow at 10:00am. I cannot be held liable for any serious injuries that may result from my driving inabilities. (I'm really not kidding. I can't drive. I fully fulfill all stereotypes involving young/ asian/ female drivers. Sorry for reinforcing them. I can't drive.)

I am sleepy, but be assured that I'm sending virtual smiles your way xxx

What is your summer "go to" outfit?