i parallel parked perfectly five times in a row!

asdjlaskjdlakldj WHY HAVEN'T I POSTED THIS DRESS BEFORE? (Yeah - no lame introduction apologizing for my lack of outfit posts due to lack of photographer; we're getting right to the point! Jump aboard!) I'm baffled. Why? This is my favourite dress. Ever. Why? Just look at it. Just look at how OBNOXIOUS it is. I love it! It has everything I could ask for in a dress - a whole plethora of colours, a heinous print, puffy sleeves reminiscent of five year old, the ability to be worn with crinoline... I've come up with a theory (it's deep - watch out): I just don't think I can ever have a bad day in this dress. It's just so joyous and fun. It makes me want to skip around and smile at strangers. I think that that's what fashion should do to you - bring joy, so you can spread it!

Recently, I've been completely, totally, and utterly bored with fashion.  I'm not mystified by what I'm seeing on runways or the internet or the streets any more. Everything strikes me as boooooring. Everything seems too serious. Too calculated. Too been there, seen that. What happened to the joy? What happened to the play? The fun? Fashion is such a privilege. To have the ability to express yourself, to even think "what will I wear today?"... that's a privilege. We're lucky to be in a society that's so developed that we don't have to worry about problems that were predominant a few centuries ago (and still in many parts of the world) like, say, growing crops to freaking eat or dying from now cure-able diseases or simply basic survival. To even to be able to have access to fashion is a privilege. And we should have fun with it! FUN! I guess I'm just kind of over the fashion industry's severe and serious take on the subject. I think we could amp up the "play" level a few notches! I mean, I just want to see girls cartwheeling down the runway and pop-up pages in magazines and more smiles on people in beautiful clothes because smiles and feelings is what it's all about. But maybe that's just me, stuck in the clouds...

(Dress - Vintage $25, Crinoline - Vintage, Head scarf - Vintage $2, Tights - H&M $5, Shoes - Vintage $15, Bangles - Assorted, Broaches - Nepal)

Anyways. I hope you have a joyous day! I really do. Smile at strangers!
What is your stance on "fashion"? What would you like to see more of?

fourth of july reference in title 'cuz it ain't gonna come up anywhere else

FIRST OUTFIT POST OF THE YEAR!!!!!!! WAHOOOOO!!!!

(Sorry for the obnoxiousness of the capital letters and exclamation marks, but I wanted to start this pivotal, life-changing moment with a real BANG!!!! Ya dig? No? Well, too bad. It's my blog. Mine, mine, MINE! No worries, kids. I'm still annoying/ just jokin' wit chaaa! tehehe.)

Fun story: my first day home marked one of the best days of the entire year. Yes, that's right, kids. This day, this glorious day, could only consist of one thing... VALUE VILLAGE'S 50% OFF SALE. When I received the email announcing this grand day (I'm a subscriber to VV's newsletter, obvz), I literally whooped in excitement. I thought to myself, "Yessss. This is a good omen for coming home. This makes my mundane town in Canada all okay." And it was.

I purchased da shirt and da overalls on said sale day. I'm absolutely in love with these overalls. They are probably one of the most unflattering items I own - it is ill-fitting, has a "mom" butt, and just generally makes me look like I'm a little boy in the 90s. I love it! Perhaps to compensate for the little boy aura of this outfit, I thought it'd be fun to wear some stripper heels/ clonkers just to, you know, go for "juxtaposition." Or something... Well, actually, I'm not really sure what vibe I was going for - perhaps some farmer boy porn star? - but it makes me happy! The overalls also reminds me of Phoebe Buffet - aka my favourite Friends character, aka another reason why they are so horrendously wonderful!

Whilst traveling for 5.5 months, I was determined to do the backpacking thing right. Consequently, I crammed all my clothes - along with other shenanigans, such as a whopping four guidebooks (shhh... I mean, I was a free spirit and just went with the wind and wandered to random lands and never looked at those guidebooks, pshhhh....) - in one backpack. Clothing-wise, this equated to one pair of pants, four long skirts (oh yeah, I had to be "Morocco friendly" aka rocked the "colourful nun" look everywhere... shuper shexy!), five shirts, one dress, one jean jacket and... yeah. That's all. As a maximalist-slash-I-just-love-dress-up-in-general this was, well, really good for me, actually. It was good to go through a style cleanse - as in, no style. Whatsoever. At all. I find that in Canada, there have been times that I have been concerned that I've been defined by my style. My style isn't who I am. Style shouldn't be who you are. It should be a reflection, a glimpse of who you are. Yet, there have been times where I have found myself feeling self-conscious, wondering if my style was been a defining characteristic of who I am, rather than merely a reflection. Like, maybe the only cool thing about me is the fact that I can stop traffic with my obnoxiously bright attire...

So it was good to go into foreign lands, where I was forced to meet people in relatively dull clothes that don't reflect me or my normal style at all. Generally speaking, whenever I walk out in drab clothes, I never feel like I'm representing myself well - I lose some confidence, I don't feel 100% me. But you know what? It was okay. Because we are MORE than our clothes, more than our style. It was really good for me to see that clothes don't define who I am, and people still saw me as joyous and bubbly and all those peppy things that colourful clothes generally elude towards and, more importantly, what I really am.

That being said, I really did miss my clothes. Not in a vain way. I know it sounds vain. And I don't mean that, at all. But I did miss the process of putting together a smashing - or a totally ridiculous farmer porn star - outfit together. The creative process, the self-expression, the dressing up. I realize that perhaps style means more to me than I initially thought, and I'm really grateful to be living in a country where there is freedom in dressing and self-expression. It's really nice to be able to play around and have fun again! But it's also nice knowing that I don't need wacky clothes to be myself! Aww!

(Shirt - Value Village $3, Overalls - Value Village $3, Necklace and bracelets - Nepal, Socks - homemade! my-mom-knit-them-because-she's-going-through-a-midlife-crisis-shhhh...), Shoes - Vintage $12)

 Have you ever felt defined by your clothes? How does your style play into your confidence, personality, etc?

word verifications on tinypic are now real words/ mini-sentences/ hilarious

Here's an outfit I wore a jolly long time ago. Like, way back. Like, I KNOW I DON'T UPDATE MY BLOG ENOUGH SO GO AWAY. (But stay. You make me feel ~special~). Despite the length between present day and back-in-the-day-when-I-wore-this, I still remember the process clearly. I.e. I stared at the mirror approximately 189 times before I went out. (And, hey, I'm a narcissist (duh. exhibition: this blog.), but even that's pushing it.) My palms were sweating, my heart was beating. "Is this too much?" I asked myself, bottom lip trembling in fear. However, I held my head high. My chest back. My feat stomping it. And to my utter surprise, I had a surprisingly GLORIOUS FEEDBACK. This involved a "Girl, I love your SWAGGG" high five from a wonderful random on the street and an indirect lead towards a new job offer. WHAT WHATTTT. The moral of the story? Risk taking is glorious. The end.

By the way, this smashing sweater of mine (my cousin claims it could be an awesome "ugly sweater party" sweater, but I enjoy it delightfully) now boasts a glorious story. Which goes by the name of a woman once offered to pay me $50, yes $50, for it. (Side note: considering it cost me a few coins from the kids section of dear ole' Value Village, an "um, fo shizzz" chimed in my head. Unfortunately, I was working and I'm fairly confident that "stripping down and selling personal attire" is a breach of contract. Or something. OH POLICIES ARE SO RESTRICTING AND SOCIETY WILL BURST INTO FLAMES ETC ETC.)




Moving on from severely outdated stories and onto more relevant things... Good-byes suck. Today was my last day of work at f21. (This was due to incredible adventures happening in due time that will, surely, be talked - ahem, blogged - about shortly.) HOWEVER, yes. It was a last day. And it was sad. Where in the world did four months go?!?! I remember when I first landed a job??!!? What is this?!?!? I don't bid well with good-byes. I mean, I know we have the good ole "I'll keep up with you on Facebook" or "Post pictures and status updates" or the general crutch of modern-day connectivity... it's not the same. I know we'll "keep in touch," but human interaction is far more beautiful. It's sad because I find we don't realize how precious human beings and experiences and connectivity are until relationships begin to deteriorate or fade with time and life and that's-just-what-happens.

Considering my alleged social-awkwardness, my ability to actually communicate with human beings and, like, make friends (zomg!) has been, um, awesome. I feel so spiffy, being all, "Oh yes, hanging out with the coworkers after work." I have come to absolutely love my coworkers (they're the best!!!!) and I'm sad to be going. Oh, boo. Now let me start bawling my eyes out about next chapters and moving on and lost connections here, all over my computer, at good ole 2:47am. I don't even know how coherent I am at this time - after an 8 hour shift, MIGHT I ADD - and how my fingers are even managing to type words without that ungodly red squiggle underneath it. (I'm amazing, I suppose.)

I guess, the moral of this story, is just that: good-byes suck. I'm thankful for all the beautiful people I've gotten to meet. It has been a wonderful delight. I feel like coating this with more cheese, but I am sincere when I say that I've had an incredible last few months with awesome people. Kisses and hugs and I'll miss yas!

Oh, life...

What are times when you've had to say "good-bye"?

(Jacket - Value Village $3.50, Sweater - Value Village $3, Shirt - Value Village $3, Pants - Vintage/ Iceland, Shoes - Salvation Army $7, Bow - Value Village $3)

subway delays are no fun

Welcome to another addition of OutfitsLexyWoreALongTimeAgoAndIsFinallyPostingThem where we celebrate Lexy's inability to post on time! Ever! Procrastination! Boo yeah! That's right! She's just popped out of the womb as a keen high school student and has graduated onto merely being a sufficient and adequate and lackluster individual! (Except for not really, because if Lexy were lackluster, how did she receive Forever 21's Employee of the Month? Har, har. BRAGGG BRAHHH.)

I call this my "teacher" look because BAM! look at that MATURITY. I'm just RADIATING grown-up-ness. Which is appropriate... because it's my last week of being 17! EEEK. Yes, my birthday is in less than a week. Which means I really need to tick off some major defining and illegal and criminal moments ay-sap - i.e. killing a creature - before this week comes to end, otherwise adult records aren't as forgiving as jeuvie ones. If anyone has suggestions for how-to-rebel-and-bend-the-law-before-I-am-legally-an-adult, I would very much appreciate your suggestions! (I kid, I kid. This is me thinking I am being sly and clever and facetious.)



(Trench - Value Village $7, Shirt - Value Village $3, Skirt - Vintage $5, Shoes - Vintage $35, Scarf - Gift, Belt - Thrifted $1)

As par tradition, I will undergo the usual Birthday festivities - i.e. none. But, this got me thinking, if I were to ring in the big 1-8 with style (sorry, I don't know why I said that so cheesily/ attempting to be a cool mom-y type of way), What would Lexy do? Thus, world, welcome to my dream party because I'm 17 and young and can still tap into my inner dreams! And stuff. What is wrong with me? Anyways. It would go something like...

Hello dearest friends and family! Welcome to Lexy's birthday party! I know it's cold and winter-y, but at this party, it is sunny and warm! We're all in a park! With big trees and open fields and no one in sight, but us! And we're all dressed up! But not in the generic tight clubwear (the amount of tight, shiny, sparkly dresses at work that actually sell never seizes to amaze me). We're talking girls in beautiful vintage dresses, complete with big hats and gloves and stockings. And boys in suspenders and bow ties because OMG THEY ARE AMAZING. (Seriously, if I were a boy, that would be my attire errrday. It just makes things better. Why don't they SEE that?!) There would be live music. Maybe some sort of old school, jazz stuff. So we could all do some cheesy bopping around. Which would be fun, as we'd all be fancy shmancy and crinoline-d out. Everyone would be responsible for bringing either a craft or a board game because those are the two funnest and most underrated/ ignored experiences of being a human being. We'd be creative and old school for hours and hours, and it would be wonderful. (Cell phones would be strictly prohibited.) And we'd eat ice cream cake from Dairy Queen. At night time, we'd light candles and look at stars and talk about dreams. It would be beautiful...

The end. I hope you have a fantastic week, folks! I really can't get over how quickly time ticks by. Last week of being 17? I'm COMING to GET YOU!

What would be YOUR dream birthday party?

nibs are yummy

Dearest friends of the world wide web,

In conclusion, I suck. Now that we've moved passed that awkward confrontation of holy-moly-its-the-freaking-last-day-of-the-month-and-i-haven't-posted-in-weeks, we can move on to more productive things. Like clothing attire. OMG EXCITEMENT ENSUES AS IT'S LIKE NOTHING'S EVER CHANGED YEEEHAWWWW GOODTIMEZ.

Evidently, these photos were taken awhile back, as made clear by things like LEAVES. I actually had a mini-heart-attack this morning when I realized it was the end of the month ALREADY. Time is a flyin', we are a livin', things are a happenin', what am i a sayin'?! And speaking of the end of the month and general redundancy, aw shucks, I have to drop another $99 on a December Metropass. (Fun fact: I make my Grandma buy my Metropass because she has a handy advantage called "senior discount." There is a student discount, but I'm not in school/ a student right now. Consequently, I'm BRINGIN' OUT THE GRANDMA. Using a senior discount when I'm not a senior? Going against the system? YOU KNOW IT BRAH. Because I live on the EDGE like that. Because I'm a REBEL like that. Because YOU BETTER WATCH OUT. (You better not cry! You better not pout, I'm telling you why! Lalal. I don't care what people say, I freaking LOVE Christmas music.))



As I posted this, I remembered that a lovely woman photographed me in this outfit and BAM! I came across it. I don't know how I just remembered that I was photographed, because I'm fairly certain that it blasted my smile and my ego about 718 degrees higher that day. But then again, you know, I'm used to it. I'm like a celebrity. BOW TO ME BITCHEZ. (I kid you, I kid you! I will use my celebrity powers (i.e. being on, like, three blogs and a twitter) to merely date Joseph Gordon Levitt and adopt babies with trendy names.)

(Jumpsuit - Vintage $5, Blazer - Value Village $4, Denim Shirt - Mum's from the 90s, Bracelets - H&M, Shoes - Vintage $34, Headband - Value Village $3)

On a completely different note, I've recently been having a bit of money struggles. Not in the sense of lack of money - but in the contrary. I know it's ~tacky~ to talk about money, but I'm a ~tacky~ one, so I'm just going with what I got! Frankly, I'm a lucky girl. It's not like my family is farting dollar bills or throwing change in garbage cans (Daniel Meade, that means you! Ugly Betty reference that no one will get because that show ended, like, 6 years ago. Yup, I'm still obsessed). But, yes, I have been incredibly lucky growing up. My family isn't, like, ~loaded~, but I have been really fortunate to have really incredible opportunities - such as an amazing education and travel experience - that I know a lot of people don't have. And sometimes I feel guilty.

I'm working with people that are paying for their own rent, their own university tuition. While I'm obviously not going to be financially dependent on my parents for my entire existence, I know that they would be willing to help me out to ensure that I get the education or the opportunities I need for personal growth. And sometimes I feel guilty. My parents work hard. They both came from low class families and worked hard and continue to work hard to provide for me and my sister. But it's like, What did we do to deserve this? Why are people my age fighting for things like education or a home? Things that I've generally taken for granted? Why do I get this lifestyle? And sometimes I feel guilty.

I find myself trying to compensate for my fortunate upbringing by trying to help others. I try to volunteer or feed the homeless or do anything that I can do because I can do it. I can definitely attest to my parents for ingraining the value of money and the importance of helping others in my mind. But still. I work hard, and I will always work hard, but I also know that my parents are able to support my dreams - education, traveling - financially, which is a definite luxury and I feel incredibly lucky but also incredibly torn. Because WHY? Why do I deserve this?! Why do I get this luxury? And I know that I'm a good person and I'm not a spoiled brat and I don't take my things for granted, but I also know that I have and I've had a lot of things and opportunities and experiences that people my age simply don't have because $dollaz$ don't grow on trees.

I've always been aware of the discrepancy between our Western lifestyle and one in a developing country, but I'm also becoming more aware of the discrepancy between my own upbringing and that of many other youth. It's just this bizarre battle between gratitude and guilt, intertwined with questions of why?

That's all.

PHEW. This actually took a lot of time to write because my mind has been rumbling and mumbling and broiling and battling and I know that it's an uncomfortable or sensitive or controversial topic. I didn't know whether to post this. But guess what I did? Yeah, I posted it. Obviously. You are reading this. Duh!

THOUGHTS? What kind of financial upbringing did you have? How has it affected you?

Ahem, so until next time! (Let's be frank, WHO KNOWS WHEN THAT WILL BE?!) I hope you all have a really splendid day/ week/ life in the meantime! Hugs and kisses!

13-year-old "couples" are hilarious.

Dear friends! Howdy, hello, you know the drill! I was mentally scrummaging through old photos - MAN THERE ARE A MULTITUDE - and I figured it was time to post. And the rest was history... Not really. But I'm posting now. Because I have a lot of pictures to post. (And so the circle of Lexy's rambles begin...) Particularly since this number boasts BARE legs, a concept that has been struck foreign due to blistering winds and chilly weather and general winterisaroundthecornerness. I.e. Yeah, welcome to an outfit that was worn awhile back! Hip hip hooray! But whatevz, brah. Vintage is in. Or something. Okay, awkward-ness still exists, so I'll just power on...

As you, dear stalkers - ahem, regular readers (LUV U), are well aware (i.e. refer to, um, every outfit post, pretty much), I have the tendency to overwear these dear flowers. As in every day. As in, "Wow, Lexy, you really like those flowers" - voice in my head (I wanted to write coworker because it seemed like a plausible comment. At last, by magic, no one has ever made that comment and I didn't want to be a LIAR to you folks). Story time, children. Once upon a time, I was walking downtown and realized that the turquoise one was missing. I was a little gloomy. Sad face. The end. THAT'S RIGHT. My dear collection has been dwindled down, but I have my fingers crossed that maybe a small child or a wondering soul or maybe even a homeless man has found it is doing something wonderful and creative with it. Hip hip hooray for lost treasures being found? PLEASE?



Not much is going on over at this end. Or, on the contrary, much is going on over at this end, but not much worth droning on and on and onnnnn about. I've recently been thinking about relationships and chemistry and what kind of people I'm generally compatible with. I find myself more hip-hip-hooray-yadda-yadddaaa around more mild/ timid people, and I'm more mild/ timid around really outspoken/ loud people. I DON'T KNOW, whhadddup with that? My personality can certainly be quite bi-polar and extremist in that sense. I also do not gel well with people that whine. It's something to do with my obnoxious peppy-ness that doesn't seem to vibe well with negative thoughts. (Seriously. The most commonly used word in the Dictionary of Lexy's life is "Yay." I am a five year old, really.) I guess I'm just like, you know, a lost soul trying to find my tribe. I probably never will, just because I just said, "I'm a lost soul trying to find my tribe." Who says that? Besides 80-year-old hippies on acid? Are they my tribe? Should I Kijiji that shizzz? WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME? I need to eat breakfast. Peace owwwt, lovely people. Peace.

What kind of people do YOU generally get along with?

(Dress - Vintage $5, Shirt - Thailand, Broaches - Nepal, Belt - Thrifted $1, Socks - Dollarama $0.50, Shoes - Salvation Army $7)

if you are looking for a sign to clean your room then THIS IS IT

I've just completed cleaning my room and my satisfactory level has increased EXPONENTIALLY. Looking around at my CLEAN vacuumed floor and CLEAN neat shelves and CLEAN straight closet simply makes me feel GLORIOUS. Like I'm, you know, THE QUEEN OF THE WORLD. NO BIG FREAKING DEAL. Oh, and, just by the way, can you tell that I have no life? Whatsoever? Whatever. You make fun of me. I'm just basking in the cleanliness of my clean room SHBAM. Hear that? It's the sound of ENVY. Your envy.

And no, I'm not posting pictures of my room or anything. That snidbit was way irrelevant. I'm just bragging so you guys remember just how ~awesome~ and ~beyondcool~ I am. Obviously. What I am posting (smooth transition, you dig?!) are outfit shots! HOORAY! I wore this outfit awhile back, but posting is occurring now. I'm prompt like that. (Sorry!!!)

There's something about this obnoxious combination of patterns that reminds me of kaleidoscopes. (Can we please just take a second to praise the KALEIDOSOCOPES?! They're freaking genius. A simple idea, yet HOURS of joy. Nope, just me?) I guess you could say that I'm satisfied with this connection.


I'm obsessed with rainbow nails. THEY COMPLIMENT MY OUTFITS SO WELL HOLY MOLY I FREAK OUT EVERY TIME. I'm such a five year old at heart, it's borderline a problem. Borderline. Give it a five years when I'm beginning a "real" career and becoming a "real" adult and my finger nails are still every freaking colour of the rainbow. I'm so going to be one of "those" grown-ups. (You know, like Ms. Frizzle. I loved her.)


Today was a good day. I was sitting on the subway, smiling to myself. I have the tendency to do that. Just smile at myself. Like I'm a pedophile. Smiling at children. Small children. BUT I'M NOT!!!! PINKY PROMISE!!! Ahem. So now that we've determined that I was smiling to myself, yet I am not a pedophile, I will continue with my (not so) remarkable story. I was smiling at myself because today was a good day. Why? I'm not entirely sure. In theory, it really shouldn't have been: it consisted of waking up early after little sleep (the whole closing-shift-and-opening-shift-the-next-day-and-one-hour-commute is not an appealing combination, TRUST ME) to a seven hour shift and no evening plans. And that's essentially all that happened. (Of course, we later found out that cleaning my room was on the agenda, which simply elevated the whole "good day" thing.) (We get it; I HAVE NO LIFE.) It was a friendly day, chatting to costumers, and running around, and it was fun. I've really realized how much happiness is in our control. I woke up thinking, "You know what? I'm going to have a good day" AND I DID. Magic! It could have been grumpy and grouchy and long, but I decided to turn into a cheery little muffin top and the day passed by! WOOHOO!

As I was basking in the goodness of the day, I thought to myself, "You know, it's the outlook that determines the outcome." I really thought I was getting at something. Heck, the words "future" and "Oprah" came to mind! THE OUTLOOK DETERMINES THE OUTCOME. Lexy, you're brilliant! I was going to preach my genius new proverb on the blog when I thought, "Ho hum, perhaps I should Google it in case of some-other-genius-already-said-this-profound-saying-before-me." Turns out, someone did. I guess my brilliance just transcends through the ages. WHATS UP WITH DAT?! Nonetheless, I completely believe that an obnoxiously positive and optimistic attitude is - perhaps naive - but totally the way to go! Negative thoughts do no good. The other day, a woman was bitching about the lateness of the bus and I just thought to myself, "Well, golly, woman. Your bitching ain't going to make the bus come any faster!"

In conclusion, be obnoxiously chipper. It's fun. Life is too short to dwell on things beyond your control and to be a grumpy grey cloud. xoxoxo TILL NEXT TIME.

What are your happiness philosophies? Would you say that you are a "happy" person?


(Blazer - Value Village $3.50, Shirt - Value Village $3.50, Skirt - Value Village $5, Shoes - Vintage $15, Broaches - Nepal, Hair bow - Vintage $3, Rainbow nails - Visit to Shoppers Drugmart and pretending to test out their different colours $free)

of course i wish on 11:11

It's been over a week. I get it, okay? I suck and let's move on. Oh, but before I move on, I may as well sputter my excuse. Trust me, it's a good one: ahem, I've been wayyy too busy attending multiple high class fashion parties filled with sparkling champagne and hobnobbing with exquisite guests. Yeah. I'm a fancy girl. NO BIG D. Oh, and, um, just as a side note, by "multiple" I mean "one." And by "fashion parties" I mean "high school reunion." And by "sparkling champagne" I mean "water." And by "hobnobbing" I mean "catching up." And by "exquisite guests" I mean "ex-classmates and teachers." But you know. Surely, the principle is still there? Glamorous parties and high school reunions? Pfft, practically synonymous if you ask me. Go ahead. Thesaurus it. I DARE YOU. (No, really. Please don't.)

That's my really long-winded way of saying I went to my high school reunion yesterday. It's rather hilarious since we've only been apart for, like, a week. (And by "a week" I mean "four months.") (Are you getting sick of my inability to just get to the freaking point already yet?!) Okay, I'll just get to the freaking point already... This is what I wore.

I was actually really excited about the whole "semi-formal attire" thing that was required. Because contrary to what my awesomeness may lead you to believe, I do not, in fact, get invited to many swanky parties and glamorous events. I KNOW. CALM YOURSELF. Is that a heart-attack I see coming your way? COMMENCE YOUR HEAVY BREATHING EXERCISES NOW. It's a SHOCK for all of us! It's okay. I've discovered that human beings are simply jealous of my awesomeness and are intimidated. I'm powerful like that. I'm still as cool and swanky and fancy as you all think I am. (Woah! Dream big! Go fly a kite!) (That was a Juno reference. Neat-o.)



This dress is way awesome. Do you know how awesome it is? Once upon a time, I stumbled across it. I thought, "this dress is awesome." However, the price tag read $50 and sadness ensued. BUT, OH, THERE IS A SILVER LINING. For two months passed and BAM! The awesome dress was marked down to $16. In conclusion, I'm psychic and channeled my inner "patience is a virtue." Evidently, my wisdom transcends way beyond my years of existence. Some say I'm the next Oprah. Oh, and another irrelevant/ boring thing to note about this dress is that it used to be about one foot longer. I kid you not. I looked like Belle in it. As in that Disney princess with the ridiculous dress. I thought it was fun. Unfortunately, the 1800s is, you know, not existing today so, at last, some snipping and stitching ensued and bam! here we are today! And now you know a lot about this dress and it's possibly getting awkward in a "should I unfollow this chick?" kind of way. Um. Basically, thank you high school reunion for giving me the opportunity to get fancy and wear this dress. (That is, until, those swanky invites come my way. One day.)

Seeing high school people was weird. I mean, I know it's only been four months, so before you get all, "it's only been for months," my golly I KNOW IT'S ONLY BEEN FOUR MONTHS. But still. Given that I've been with many of these people for at least four years, four months of separation is weird. And coming back together is also weird. I guess graduation day never really felt completely, totally the end since I always knew that I'd be seeing a lot of these faces again at this reunion. But now? Now it's the end. Screw swanky fashion parties, I never even went to high school parties!!! Consequently, I wonder how many of these people I'll actually keep in touch with? See again? It's a hard concept to grasp and I'm very aware that we're all moving forward and high school is a blip of the past. It's weird. I guess I'm realizing that my school environment has defined me for essentially all my life; I mean, I spent more than forty hours a week in that thing! I guess now I'm in the process of figuring out who I am outside of the school community? I honestly thought that I'd be sputtering out rainbows of joy upon reaching the end of high school. But I guess I'm realizing just how much it has defined my life so far. And how much it really has given me. (Again, I think I'm only remembering the good bits. My sister was doing functions homework this weekend. MATH NEVER AGAIN PUHLEASE.) Right now, it's about moving forward and growing from the past. It's scary, but exciting. I think being in high school made me a dreamer; it ignited the "there's gotta be more than this" in me. Yesterday made me remember that. I'm ready to dream away again!

On a side note, I don't know how many of my readers are in high school, but if you are, here it goes: take a deep breath and CHILL OUT. It's high school. It will be over before you know it. But I don't think it's something that you just want to "get over" - it's something that you should enjoy, or try to enjoy. The people you meet are going to disappear from your daily life before you know it. So don't give a fuck what they think. Find something you love that's removed from social drama and social circles and go do it. Do the things you love and don't do the things you don't feel comfortable with. You don't know who "you" are yet and it's tough. So just go with your heart. Do what feels right. Not what the media or your peers says is "right." Your heart. And, really, this is the biggest one: talk to people. High school is filled with cliques and generalizations and stereotypes and I won't lie, I was a victim of that. Generalizing people, giving people labels. Don't do that. The most valuable thing I've taken from high school is we're all just human beings. Finally, in senior year, I tried to talk to a lot of people individually - find out what they're about, what makes them tick - and I'm really glad it did. I found that when people were removed from their friends/ social pressures, they were actually all just... humans. Everybody is going through the same shit you are and everybody is struggling and everybody is just trying to have a good time or fit in or move forward. Please. Get to know people before you judge. They will be gone before you know it. Everybody is human. High school is a weird, toxic environment and know that there is life beyond it. Chin up. Make the best of it; it says a lot about your spirit.

Phew. I feel like I'm the Breakfast Club or something. Hooray! If you read all that, we should totally form a clique of simply AWESOMENESS. Yeah. THE END.

What did you take away from high school? How has life changed post high school? If you're still in high school - HAH! SUCKER! (kidding), How are you liking it? How do you picture life post high school?

(Jacket - Value Village $3.50, Dress - Vintage $16, Tights - F21 $10, Shoes - Thrifted $1 (!!!!), Bow - Value Village $3, Jewelry - Assorted)

Have a great week, darlings! I have a lot of outfit posts lined up. But I think we've both determined that I suck, so *fingers crossed* for prompt posting. Till next time... YOU'RE ALL BEAUTIFUL CREATURES.

pop tarts are delicious

HOWDY PARTNERS! Ahem. Howdy? Partners? Seriously, Lexy? SERIOUSLY? Whatever, western is very 'in' and things and I JUST WANT TO BE A COW BOY GOSH DARNIT.

Ahem. Again. Well, this is sufficiently awkward as you now question whether my disappearance was due to being a bad blogger or, seemingly more likely, being placed in a scientific experiment that makes human beings stare at microwaves too long and, consequently, become insane (according to my mom. she's anal like that). Or something. Ahem. Again, again. Can we just *smooth transition* it over to the pictures? You all cheer an hallelujah and a hip hip hooray and we transition and SUCH A BEAUTIFUL MOMENT! We all share a collective sigh of relief, kind of like that moment when you're squatting over the toilet after copious amounts of pee-dancing and uncomfortable wiggling and seriously WHY AM I STILL TALKING?!

My family is a giant dork. I don't know if that sentence makes grammatical sense, but that is the best word to describe us: dorks. A euphemism might be "cute," but that's in the "aw, you guys are so dorky, but I want to be a kind soul, so I'll just say cute" sense. This theory could be proven with various events, such as family game nights and Thanksgiving hikes. I wouldn't have it any other way! DORKZ 4 LYF, BRAH.




Here is the sibling and I. The sibling looks like Where is Waldo. HAH! She always comes up with strange analogies for my outfits (namely, just raised eyebrows that say OH SO MUCH), so now I'm being the witty one here. Please laugh. Or nod. Or something.



And I know it's tradition to start off a post with apologies and excuses but HEY NOW! I'm a non-conformist! I go against the grain! Therefore, I will end my post with apologies and excuses and stuff because I turn things on their head LIKE THAT. HEAR ME ROARRRR. Bitchez.

Ahem. Yeah, so, I've been non-existent due to things such as 1) laziness and 2) being artsy and going to poetry slams. THAT'S RIGHT. This week is kind of a big deal over here so I've been committed to the ART. Aka I'm the biggest stalker/ groupie zomg it's scary. You know how there were always the cool kids in school and you wanted to be friends with them, but the closest you could ever get was being graced in their presence? (Hypothetically, of course. Because we're hipsters and non-conformists and things and this never occurred.) This is totally like that. You know what they say: If you can't join 'em... follow 'em (?). Sure.

I think the greatest things about poetry slams is the vibe. Everyone there is so freaking passionate and genuine and someone described the experience as "like watching a sportsgame" and it really is like that and zomg it's amazing. And the poetry is amazing, too, of course, because it's all "DANG, that's so what I was thinking, but wtf you say it so beautifully"-ish. I have this irrational fear of going up to poets and complimenting them due to the collision of contradictions being 1) my awkwardness and 2) the fact that they are extremely, extremely eloquent. So I will just watch from afar and hope one of them comes up to me in a "nice skirt/ thanks, it was my mom's in the 80s/ vintage, cute!" way. (Mean Girls reference, ANYONE?) It feels like all the poets there have found their niche and I'm all like THAT'S SO BEAUTIFUL AND WHERE IS MINE.


What is your "niche"? Super duper curious - DO LET ME IN ON IT! (lexy's definition of "niche": place/ time/ scenario where you feel most happy/ most like yourself/ most alive)

Have a splendid day!