Fear of the Red

I absolutely adore make-up.

It has been a very important part of me since I entered teen-hood.
I almost feel sick if I don't have make-up equipped and hardly recognise myself fresh-faced. 

One thing, I just couldn't get my head around was me with red lipstick. 

Love the look and the idea of it but for some reason, when I sport the le chic red lippy - I look like a tranny that may or may not sell his/her body to the night. 

Being my unfortunate circumstances, you can only imagine my reaction when red lips all of a sudden became the BOOM. 

I resented every lass that was able to pull it off by commenting on their photo "You look slutty". 

Yep, I was that spiteful jez-girl.

I kept on with my life though, with my boring childish nude lips. 

That is, until just the other night. 

It was like I was three years old again, I was staying with my mother duckette in Sydney and like usual, I was raiding through her goods to see if there were any that I may be interested in "borrowing". 

I came across Chanel's scorching red lippy, still fresh and glistening. 

Naturally, I had to give it a chance. 

I don't know if it was the two glasses of wine that I had earlier or if I had just finally grown up as a woman.

 

IT LOOKED BULL-SHIT HOT. 

I then went out with my blood-stained lips thinking that I was all that. 

Though this may be a very "cool blog bro" kind of post but seriously, it was like I swam for the first time. 

Congratulations are welcome. 

- A- 

Chains are Change

I like to think that nobody can affect the way I dress. 

But, I really believe that it is almost imposs for one to not be influenced by another with the way they present themselves. 

I happen to have a man-pal who I often share a bed with, attend events as each other's plus ones and "cuddle" in times of self-loathing and stormy weathers. 

This dude is a bit of a big deal. 

Let's keep him anonymous simply for gigs. 

Okay, so geting off topic. 

I have been hanging foul with this gent for around a year now and as much as it is hard to admit - he has affected the way I dress. 

Before subject A made his significant entrance to my life, I was all about grungey dark almost-offensive attires. 

Leather - check. 

Far too many chains and bedazzlments. 

Blue black hair. 

ONLY monochrome. 

Lace and Layers even on a scorcher of a day. 

This may seem a tad wankey, but I like to think that I nailed the stated items as an outfit. 

Approx at March 2012, I found myself in a bright blue bodycon mini-skirt. 

This caused quite the stir in my household. 

My two male roomies were beyond gobsmackled with my unusual choice of colour scheme. 

As months passed by, the threads became brighter, less noisey and pretty damn femmy. 

Yup, I turned gay and soft. 

Even Subject A stated, 

"I like how you wear colour, I think it means you're in love" 

GROSS.

But perhaps I am guilty as charged. 

I feel wrong to be in funeral attire now and feel plain uncomfy. 

As much as I miss my old grunge, street style steez. 

I have this huge affection towards bright pinks and yellows now. 

Fantastic. 

Peter Pan has finally grown up. 

- A -