DADDY'SGIRL

DADDY'SGIRL

Whenever I'm at a loss for inspiration, there's always one place I'll look and find plenty: My dad's photo albums! Seriously, I'm not trying to be biased, but my dad was the shit. Just look at him with his striped button ups, pastel polos and aviator shades...

NOTE: this is probably where I get my camera-whore genes. My dad was big on style and posing for the camera. I'll bet anything that if blogs existed in the 80s he'd have one and own it.

The Nine Commandments

The Nine Commandments

Went on an impromptu thrifting escapade on Sunday. Spent fifty somthing bucks and came home with some goooodies! Right now, I'm wearing my dad's plaid shirt; jeans from sirens; a sparkly thrifted cardigan, brown lace up ankle boots and three rings from VV. As for bracelets, I am wearing an extreme excess of gold and more gold. Mostly fake, of course, but who's counting! Oh, and one of them is a ten commandments bracelet, minus one. The fourth commandment fell off...oops!

Guess it Runs in The Family.

Guess it Runs in The Family.

Once upon a time, my parents were very, very well dressed. My father in particular, was the kind of guy who wore aviator Raybans, well pressed & immaculate polos, acid wash jeans with casual sneakers and a giant 'fro on his head. He was also so very enviously skinny. Think Bryan-Boy-skinny...or maybe, skinny-enough-for-me-to-wear-those-clothes-skinny.

If only he kept his Raybans-collection; or perhaps that blindingly white blazer? No, maybe his acid wash jeans and perfectly beat-up sneakers?

Oh, I wish.