it's getting chilly

A sleeping bag is currently suffocating my entire body. It is wonderful. The weather is getting chilly. Scratch that. Freezing. It's not idealistic for a child who's living out of a suitcase at her grandmother's house*, but it does make for a good excuse to spend a chilly Sunday night lounging around in sweats and eating muffins and not exiting the room and knitting and finally updating the blog and rediscovering the wonder of Ms. Betty Suarez of Ugly Betty. Yes, THIS IS THE LIFE. (I'm not even being sarcastic. I am a crazy soul, I tell you.)

*Oh, and speaking of being a "child who's living out of a suitcase at her grandmother's house" (really, Lexy? did you just quote yourself?), there's irony in that statement. As in, even though I am lacking in attire HERE at my grandma's house, my closet, back at home, is lacking in attire EVEN MORE. Shbam! Cool story, bro! The point to this fascinating story is this: lack of clothing results in creative dressing. I was home a week or so ago and the lack of attire at home resulted in my scrummaging to make an outfit out of shenanigans that normally inhabit the bottom of the black hole of my closet. So yeah, if you haven't seen any of the items I'm wearing in awhile/ in your entire lifetime, then that is why. Mystery closed. I'm, like, Sherlock Holmes or Nancy Drew or Scooby Doo or Detective Lexy or something.

The detailing of this top is simply MARVELOUS. I was hesitant to purchase it because of its colour - OR LACK OF. Har, har. But the scale-like texture was far too enticing and enough to make me swoon and overlook its colourless tendencies. Thus, cha-ching. (This was, like, four months ago. Refer to the whole "clothing inhabited in the black whole of the closet thing.") (I see. Quoting yourself again, Lexy? You really must stop doing that. It's lame.) Oh, and in case you're like the 2 old ladies that asked me about it (on separate occasions!), I DON'T know how I am going to wash it. I JUST DON'T KNOW. CAN I PLEASE JUST LET IT BE STINKY AND LET NATURE TAKE ITS SENSUOUS STENCHY COURSE?! Mmmmhmm. OKAY.



By the way, you know how I'm really fierce and stuff? Yeah, I'm really fierce and stuff... I mean... DUH.


I've recently been pondering about really deep, emotional, and political subjects. An exemplar of one of these subjects - probably near the top of the list with respect to gravity and intensity - would be MY AWKWARDNESS. Academic terms associated would include things like "evaluating my weakness" or "seeking room for improvement." I, however, prefer something along the lines of, "LEXY GET YO ACT 2GOTHER GURL." I've discovered that I'm not awkward... really. I mean... like, um... I'm eating candy right now! (Kidding. I'm trying to be, like, ironic by exaggerating my alleged awkwardness. And thus proving I'm really, in fact, not awkward. Because attempting to be funny and ironic is so, like, nawwwt awkward. Right... I don't even know where I'm trying to go with this reverse-psychology mumbo-jumbo and what my point even is and whether I've concluded whether I'm really awkward or not awkward.)

But really. Socially, there are certain aspects of my personality that I'd like to, you know, tweak. For instance: I am terribly shy in large crowds, I am not the best for standing up for what I believe, I fear what other people will think of me, I don't want to sound silly in front of the wrong people... I've never thought of myself as insecure... but maybe I'm insecure? I'm sure these can all be attributed to "growing up" and will, hopefully, disappear in a cloud of purple dust one day! But until then... I'll just continue to eat my candy and eavesdrop on conversations and things and attributing it all to "awkwardness."

(Blazer - Value Village $3.50, Shirt - Thrifted/ Vintage $5, Pants - Value Village $4, Shoes - Vintage $35, Headband - Ophelie Hats, Bangles - gifted)

Sorry for this mumbo-jumbo of a post. But... better a mumbo-jumbo than nothing at all? Sure. Have a beautiful week darlinz! xxx

What are some things that you'd like to change/ improve on yourself?

is it bad that i hate showering? (ahem, don't worry, i shower. i just, you know, hate it.))

Hello bluebirds and sunshine teapots! Oh, look at me! I'm being so jolly and dandy! And oh! I wonder why this is! Am I in looooove? NO. Am I prancing outdoors? NO. Gosh, I guess it's merely because it's a BEAUTIFUL DAY TODAY. Yippee! The weather has been utterly glorious and I feeling like being in love and prancing outdoors and calling human beings "bluebirds" and "sunshine teapots" but, you know, I am doing none of that. Instead, I get the fantastical privileged of being indoors, all day, getting my werrrk' on. In the mall. All day. Hooray? Whatever, the weather is pretty and I'll just act all cheery and obnoxious and yeahhh because nobody likes a gloomy cloud to pounce on their sunny parade.

In other news, adventuring and exploring Toronto is working out nicely. I have discovered that my fan-base lie in are-they-homeless-esque-old-bearded-men. Seriously. In the past month, I have had half-a-dozen conversations with this demographic. It's okay. Despite the initial doubt and subtle inching away, they turn out to be interesting and harmless creatures. (You know, until the end, when they give me their number with the prospect of showing me the "good bars around town" or kiss my hand when I am saying goodbye but, you know, pffft.)


I've also attended my first POETRY SLAM because I am so ~poetic~ and ~artsy~ and yeah, just wanted to check it out. It ended up being lots of fun; the atmosphere and vibe is very honest and passionate and beautiful and connected and all that good stuff. Therefore, I'm totally sold. While I wish I could become all ~wow, I am a poet and I didn't even know it~, the reality is, you know, ~I'm not a poet and I did even know it~. I really admire all the poets out there. SLAM. (See what I did there? That added ambiance is a play on SLAM Poetry? Damn, maybe I do have a talented way with words! Check itttt!) I've also made this, ahem ~profound~ connection that some people use poetry and words to express themselves while I use clothing to express myself. Look at us! We're all just human beings trying to find ways to be honest and expressive and connected and things.


Oh, by the way, we interrupt this program briefly to introduce you to the BEST SHOES EVER. They make my feet happy. I've taken to wearing them to all the grand events I'm so often invited to (read: dance parties... with myself... alone... in front of my... mirror. JEALOUS?!).




In other not-as-grand news, lately, I've been feeling a little uncomfortable and guilty for loving fashion. Sometimes, it feels as though I am living in a perpetual paradox where loving fashion and aspiring to be part of the industry and dreaming fashion dreams converge with hating fashion and recognizing its frivolity and insignificance and questioning how involved I should really be with it. It's hard to articulate because, obviously, I love it. I have aspired to be apart of the creative/ fashion industry since I was a wee little one. It makes me cry, it makes my heart pound, it makes me dream. On the other hand, it makes me want to hurt things. We attach words like "art" to it and strive to search for meaning in it and put it on a high pedestal but... is it really all that?

I guess I find myself very uncomfortable when people ask me what I want to do. I feel like I'm searching for justification for my passion. I feel like there are other things I could lend my heart and time and talent to. Who knows what the future holds? I guess I just want to die knowing I made the world a better place than it was before I left it. I know that creating things makes the world lighter and more beautiful and full of dreams... but I can't help thinking about the kids around the world that would give anything for a basic education and basic health and the basic needs we fucking take for granted. Maybe I should lend my heart and time to that instead. Until they have the opportunity to dream and create and enjoy the lighter side of life to. My heart seems to stretch out a lot... #confusedteenager

Do you ever feel guilty for loving fashion? How do you deal with those feelings? (I know it's not good to assume but, yeah, I am totally assuming you kids are all fashion lovahhhz az diz is a fashion blawggg, ya dig?)

(Shirt - Value Village $3, Shorts - Vintage/ Iceland, Socks - H&M $2, Shoes - Consignment Shop $12, Lipstick - Revlon 038)

xoxoox, have a beautiful week, darlings.

rainbow fish

Just so you know, my parents are pretty kewl. (Yes, cool with a k. And an e. And a w. DATZ RIGHT HOMESLICE.) I mean, my dad spends all his free time doing math puzzles, watching mandarin movies, and/ or attempting to play basketball with university kids approximately a quarter of his age. My mom, on the other hand, enjoys fascinating subjects like childhood obesity statistics, adult ballet classes, and being incredibly anal about tidiness. IF THAT DOESN'T SAY "KEWL," THAN I DON'T KNOW WHAT DOES.

However, perhaps THE kewlest thing about my parentals lie in their birthdays. I.e. THEIR BIRTHDAYS ARE ONE DAY APART! BAM! I know what you're thinking: ZOMG Wayyy kewl. I know. Please, calm down. STOP JUMPING UP AND DOWN AND FREAKING OUT!!! Don't worry, kid. I understand. Not only does that make them the kewlest parental crew, but it's also, well, beneficiary for me. I mean, what's a better pick-up line/ ice-breaker than, "Heyyyy youuu, so, uh, my parents' birthdays are one day apart. (optional winking involved)"?! Yeah. THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT! WAY KEWL! Oh, and also the fact that I can give them a combined birthday present doesn't hurt much either. You know. Side note.

Speaking of their present... oh, what do you know? Here it is!



(watercolour & pencil; by me)

I'm not great at rocking portraits and, consequently, I enjoy blasting to the past instead. But you know. Facing fears and things. My parents are the best. Really, I love my family so much and I would be no where without them. Xoxooxox.

Also, on the note of facing fears and things, I have faced my fear... and things... as in BAM! Video! As you may be aware, I suck at making videos. It's okay. I'm not emotionally unstable or wildly insecure about said predicament. It is merely a fact of life. You know, classified with the likes of E=mc2, Lexy sucks at videos, etc. In conclusion, yeah. Hi. Here's a video of me being awkward and, as I note in the video (multiple times), I have just completed an 8.5 hour shift of work and returned home around midnight. While I could have cacooned myself into my sleeping bag and called it a night (as my heartstrings were telling me), I SUCKED it UP and made a video because I CARE about YOU. I'm basically a saint. You're welcome.

i'm wearing clothes and you get to see it! from quirky explosion on Vimeo.

Yeah. Sorry this post was a mish-mash of randomness. I promise that future outfit posts will involve two-dimensional images that do not talk and make awkward blabbing. Yay. We all breathe a sigh of relief.

Have a beautiful day, sugar plumz!
Describe your fam-jam (family) to me! Your current one. And the future one your brain cells envision.