“when i was a boy the dead sea was only sick.” // g. burns

whilst driving the moppet to camp the other morning, the roads were positively plagued by what may have very well been – the worst driver on earth.

no signals signaled, speed limits were viewed as suggestions only, lanes were to be crossed with nary a look in the rear and side views; and then the driver proceeded to follow so closely behind us as to become rather intimate with the contents of our trunk. needless to say, both the dog and the child were privy to the sort of language that is usually reserved for those mopping up the starboard side – and all pronouns used were rather gender specific – all venom was directed to that man driving the pickup.

i’m sure you’ve cottoned on, quicker than i had, that the he was a she, and all it came down to was a black truck and four blocks of absolutely appalling driving for there to be instant proof of an adam’s apple and bringing a magazine and spending thirty minutes in the bathroom.

how sexist, how gender specific; what bad form for a feminist to think a woman couldn’t drive a pick-up and be a menace to society and our streets. it was silly of me, to be sure – as bad driving aside, there are loads of things meant for the boys that are good, if not better for the girls… even for a girl like me.








➝ source : italian citrus edp via d.s. durga

➝ source : deep dive glycolic facial cleanser via jack black

➝ source : skull glass bead bracelet via paul smith

➝ source : franky noir fabric via jerome dreyfuss


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