Smoke and Mirrors

Jacket: Forever 21

Dress: Forever 21

Tights: Primark 

Ballet Flats: Thrifted 

Sunnies: Forever 21

Earrings: Eddie Borgo

Watch: Skagen 

As I've mentioned before, I'm attempting to integrate an editorial style into my wardrobe because I can't dress like a college student forever. As much as I love my galaxy leggings, wearing them when I'm 30 is pathetic and awkward. Therefore, I'm transforming into a woman by dressing more like one. Help. I just want to be a kid forever in my boho chic skirts and quirky weird apparel. 

I actually love the editorial look, however, so I can't really complain. Anna Wintour is one of my style idols and I felt very Anna Wintour in this ensemble today. Forever 21 has a bunch of new haute couture looking clothes, so if you want to look high fashion, but don't want to spend a crazy amount of money on designer clothes (poor college students, like moi), I recommend hitting up F21 the next time you're at the mall. I had to pair this sleek dress with this very Anna Wintour coat. When I saw them together in the store, it was like a match made in fashion heaven. Wearing the two together makes me feel like quite the fashion mag editor. Because I can't seem to completely detach myself from my quirky roots, I couldn't resist slipping into my cross tights. In case you can't tell, they are black tights with rhinestone crosses on them. Just super silly and fun. And of course I had to throw on some sunnies because it's just not an editorial look without the signature black sunglasses. 

Music: Riverside by Agnes Obel 

And because it's the perfect weather for poetry: 

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz, who bared their brains to Heaven under the El and saw Mohammedan angels staggering on tenement roofs illuminated, who passed through universities with radiant cool eyes hallucinating Arkan- sas and Blake-light tragedy among the scholars of war, who were expelled from the academies for crazy & publishing obscene odes on the windows of the skull, who cowered in unshaven rooms in underwear, burning their money in wastebaskets and listening to the Terror through the wall, who got busted in their pubic beards returning through Laredo with a belt of marijuana for New York, who ate fire in paint hotels or drank turpentine in Paradise Alley, death, or purgatoried their torsos night after night with dreams, with drugs, with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock and endless balls, incomparable blind streets of shuddering cloud and lightning in the mind leaping toward poles of Canada & Paterson, illuminating all the mo- tionless world of Time between, Peyote solidities of halls, backyard green tree cemetery dawns, wine drunk- enness over the rooftops, storefront boroughs of teahead joyride neon blinking traffic light, sun and moon and tree vibrations in the roaring winter dusks of Brooklyn, ashcan rantings and kind king light of mind, (From Howl by Allen Ginsberg)

xx