welcome to small town
the western air has intrigued me since ever but i’s been just now that I’ve realised how much it’s actually my true energy. so I decided to enter spring summer in small town babe mode, I just oredered mini wraps and ketchup and iced coffee and I’m ready to think about this. I’ve already seen one too many ford pick up trucks hence cementing my city cowgirl visions and furthering the inspirational trajectory towards my ultimate dusty road, big gulp, tanned shimmery legs dream. my manifestations for this have unconsciously been in the works for a while tho. a few years ago I had done the unfathomable: I bought a pair of etro cowboy boots. 400 dollars worth of stitched embroidery suede. which shows: I was way ahead of the curve. not only in general but also for myself. I don’t necessarily take pride in it, it’s just that I have this thing where, if I’m genuinely intrigued by something I just have to have it. it’s like catching my interest, my intrigue without me consciously trying to. it’s this foolproof asset which forces my gaze to halt on random things for reasons I cannot explain I just know it’s there and I kinda always trust this to happen. kinda like, gotta have the shiny thing, which is super subjective of course. anywho, I am ready to crush freshly fallen blossoms under their honed soles.
also: thanks to my sisters inspired recommendation I am now listening to colbie caillat on repeat while forging wardrobe plans or walking around town. it’s so blank and uplifting in the best way. the little things, my favourite, which is also the perfect background track, just gets me in all the right spring has sprung life is renewed good things are acoming kinda feels and I am truly very much addicted to it. basically all the things I am addicted to are more on the habits spectrum not on the substance one. coffee runs, juice runs, daydreaming, forging new alter egos. I am mysterious darling. thinking about myself and wether or not it’s time already to re-cog myself into day-to-day society.
back on cowgirl road.
there are no hats in it for me. because balance is key after all. I am not from Texas nor trying to gaslight myself that I could be.
i ❤ jeans
sturdy denim. the corsage effect on the legs, lower body and butt is unmatched, great posture included. plus it gives me indescribable confidence, I’m addicted to the feeling. also: corduroy. maybe late maybe too early to the function, whatever the case, all I want is to wear it now. that’s why I just ordered two peticulary dreamy cream coloured corduroy pants off of eBay and I am very proud of myself.
ralph lauren spring summer 2011 ready-to-wear-fashion show
Ralph Lauren obviously goes without saying. not always very much small towny but Americana without fail. END GAME and Roman Empire: the classic classic ready to wear spring summer 2011 ready-to-wear runway show. I love to watch it. especially during depressive episodes. it’s the stuff that fuels my small town soiree daydreams and shit. it’s so invigorating I cannot even describe it.
the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt the belt
Most belts make me feel like Santa Claus. And I hate that. Why am I like that, why do I have to have associative thinking.
it’s been a lifelong dilemma. a belt. an everyday item of highly underrated significance. the way I see it, there are three ways to approach this maddening leather carousel.
one. there are, of course, designer belts. I mean look, they’re cute I guess and the perfect representation of anonymity and elegance. but overpriced and unoriginal. yes, sometimes understated does equal boring. then, there’s option number two and not to mention an actual and very shameful one: fast fashion faux leather crimes I’ve committed myself aplenty. option three: opt out and be belt-free. that’s probably how athleisure keen people feel but not for me now that I’ve rediscovered my love for good denim and the live-affirming feeling that comes with it.
and of course, there’s secret option number four: the abundance mindset: own a whole belt drawer.
call me conservative, but I can only love one belt.
either way, nothing has ever managed to satisfy my itch for the perfect crunchy, glossy, richly tanned leather belt.
so, burnt out and exhausted from all the endless possibilities with no actual outcome I chose no belt at all. and that’s how I thought it would be and that I would have to live sans belt and I had almost come to terms with this inevitable fate. that was until
At last and out of sheer desperation I somehow found myself on ebay. and oh the sweet sweet taste of love. I ordered the most perfect vintage Polo Ralph Lauren belt and I am beyond euphoric.
it was a journey tho and there were times where I was about to give up and shell the 500$ on the soulless designer belt to at least get my moneys worth on the quality part or whatever I had force fed my conscience to justify the price tag.
the turningpoint.
my sister who, after I had probably fully exhausted her with my countless obsessive belt inquiries yearning for objective opinion, decided to drop this bullseye of a statement on me: if you’re gonna wear a belt, wear a belt. emphasis on belt there. she had awoken me. my rodeo dreams were looking shiny and bright again. still, I was in shock and disappointed. firstly, I had stopped believing in my small-town Americana Diet Coke white t-shirt-belt vision and second of all because I had almost paid for a mainstream leather accessory which, would’ve been a quick fix for sure but certainly a very sad and unsustainable one. and for what? to quench my thirst and quaint the nerves and give up on the quest for the belt I simply couldn’t seem to find? oh the horror. I don’t even want to think of it. especially now, after my unexpected internet rummaging succes gifting me the ultimate girdle.
cutting some slack: the only high end belt that works like a charm in my opinion is a pink hermes kelly belt.
enough fashion drama, entering cowboy road.
did I mention the boyfriend comes with the vibe?
romeo girl 