AS I PROMISED

I need a photographer boyfriend to take my pretty picture. As in, make my picture pretty, please. Fashion Toast has one and her photos are always great looking. Chances are that boy friend and I could share some of the same clothes. Another wardrobe to peek through for those days when I have nothing to wear would be awesome. Wow I totally just stereotyped photographers as skinny boys.

The other day I'm wandering through the MALL trying to find these triple buckle maryjanes (Chloe knock-offs) that I've been lurking. Turns out Steve Madden makes a pair, so I head over there but not before getting sucked in by the glowing light of the new two-story Forever 21. Overwhelmed and confused, I'm searching for the section that is merchandised just for me and when I finally think that I've found it, I realize I'm in the boys section. Menswear is just so attractive/distracting.If these come in cognac, I would be as happy as a peach plum pear.


I'm fresh out of photographer boyfriends so I attempted to get to know one of my new technologies on my own this past weekend. Self-timer on the new digital camera, check. That was simple. But a tripod? Oh no. Balancing my camera on a stack of nearly 30 philosophy books on the edge of the banister/halfwall of the staircase = flirting with disaster. Woe is the life of a fashion blogger.
And just where is my roommate when I need him? Like when creepy dudes follow me home, ladybugs crawl along the rim of my cranblueberry juice, or when I need my picture taken. That dude was m.i.a. for like four days straight. Something about New Orleans, don't ever put champagne in the freezer for a week, egg salad was good, and yes I'll fix your LEGO horsie when I get back was scrawled across the refrigerator. And now he's off to Jackson. Alone again with LED screens, battery chargers, and mysterious cables to keep me company.

So this is my first go at it. I didn't really experiment with "tripod" locations; the bare corner between my room and the bathroom is all you get to peep at this time. Get excited ppl.

.

I loved Gucci's Fall '08 so much that it permeated my brain and wallet. Apparently I have been subconsciously collecting haute hippie pieces, including this beautiful vintage rosebud peasant top. The problem is that I never seem to get around to wearing them SO THEY MUST GO TO BETTER HOMES NOW. Even though I adore this shirt, when I see these photos it's obvious how so-not-me the look is. Pretty, but just not me. Plus I like to pass the beauty around for good karma.

Notice how I blinked like a dork in the last picture even though my camera totally let's me know what's up. Ashford: 0. Technology: 1.

Details: vintage peasant top, Miss Sixty binky jeans, thrifted vintage boots, thrifted tiny gold coins necklace, 80s gangsta ass gold knocker earrings that pass as gypsy here (gift from Rachel).