"I don't do cocaine; I do 5 inch platforms, ridiculous dressing, loving what I do, dreading who I am, recollecting memories and random sufferings on my blog, which you might really care to read. Or browse through, the very least."
I'm a 22 year old gal who has positively gone through every possible stage of affliction and rapture, and quite often both at the same time. I don't usually encourage one to judge by appearances, but hey, mine does hardly deceive: I'm a sucker for fashion and I could never abide without 5 inch killer platforms. I live happily when clothed in as much color necessary to raise suspicion towards my mental sanity, I flirt mostly with garments with a hint of foxy kitsch or girlish perversion, and my most treasured sartorial conquests are always based on contrasts. Contrasts which have fortuitously taken over my entire life. I was brought up as a teenager with low self esteem, high expectations and a clinical fear of commitment to anything or anyone, and everything I thought to be certain about the course of my life collapsed when, at the very end of highschool, that pregnancy test showed two lines instead of the reassuring one. Now I have a 2 and a half year old girl who has reshaped my values and perceptions. She gave me the courage and self-trust that I probably couldn't have gained otherwise, and the insanity to try things which I never would have tried - blogging may be the most obvious of those. The rest comes and goes. As it should.