I feel like blogging is one of the most narcissist sports one can take part in other than that of maybe pagents or the all fearosome record store owning. Let's be honest, have you ever been to a record store that isn't owned buy some 25 year old UC Berkley dropout coveting a sonic youth tshirt and the stench of cheap pot? I thought not.
Anyway, I thought that there could be no other thing that could tribute blogging narcissim than posting pictures of where I sleep and have panic attacks: My room (I know you all were probably thinking the bathroom because, obviously, everyone knows that fashion blogggers live in bathrooms)
Although originally I was super hesitant to take a bunch of pictures of the chairs which my ass sits on and my compulsive hoard of creepy stuffed animals, I finally came to the realization that my room is just another glance into my style. My room, like in the beach boys song, is "Where I go and tell my secrets to." It's chaoticness and smelliness reflects my personal style pretty well.
This is my vibe wall. It used to be covered in posters from plays that I was in back when I used to get parts in shows. Now those posters are in my closet. I suppose there should be a more metaphorical explanation as to why I did that. However the real reason is that I got bored of them and though this display was "pretty"
I feel like I should make a note about my wallpaper. It's pretty significant in the grand scheme of things. It came with the house when my family bought it years back. I remember being mortified by it. Now, years later, I've finally appriciated it. Mainly because it looks like something from a psychiatric ward or prehaps a 1970's movie.
part of the display on my dresser. I'd like to point out that those tubes of glitter are actually full of blood from the last unicorns.
This is my archive of fashion related books. I understand how pathetically small it is.
Organization at it's finest.
Part of my shoe collection.
My closet door. Recognize some of the art on it? It's from Butch.
Yeah I really epitomize a 1960's sci-fi writer with my lack of organization and overall nut-job way of life.
Dis is my angel. I rescued her from the attic. Fun fact, I can actually play guitar pretty well (not to toot my own horn but hey that's what I'm hear fer)
This is where I actually live. The rest of the images are fake.
Well, That's all I have for ya today. Sometime next month I'll do a part 2 post of my room because this is only half of it. You haven't even seen my hoard of shit yet.
THANKS MTV CRIBS!