“oh where, oh where had snow white gone? she’d found it easy, being pretty to hitch a ride into the city.” // r. dahl
i absolutely adored it when i came down every morning and my mum would ask to whose funeral i was going to, owing to the fact, and i’m sure you’ve heard me mention it once [read: a million times] before, i was wearing black – from tip to toe.
i wasn’t trying to be subversive, i wasn’t trying to be different – i was just trying to be true, and it just happened to be that my truth was depeche mode concert tees, jersey skirts, a bomber jacket and a blackberry-hued lip.
the joke hasn’t changed much since then – a dark as sin wardrobe is just who this lass is; and the radical thought lately is that wouldn’t it just be a riot if i made a switch and just started in on the virginal – and wore white all the time, but especially and laughably after labour day?
➝ source : brasilia sunglasses via prism
➝ source : short dress via jil sander
➝ source : because i want to look like a really fancy nurse, sumatra platforms via joshua sanders