i miss going outside

Flashback to last semester. A Friday afternoon in November by the river on a beautiful day with Kylie Monet, who of course took these pretty photos. I was playing with my "cape", which consequently doubles as a blanket. I miss those times when I could go play outside in the city. These days, I have the privilege of dealing with this:

Are you kidding? I can ice skate in the Hotel de Ville fountain? It's just not okay. And I feel so bad for those poor horses who froze to death trying as hard as they could to gallop into to the nearest fireplace.

As for me, I've surrendered to the cold and now wear 36 layers whenever leaving the apartment (which I guess is nothing new). I'm forced to enjoy indoor activities, like museums. Luckily, having a staring contest with the scariest man in the Musée des Beaux-Art never gets old.

treasure and bleu cheese

Photos by Kylie Monet

A little about the clothes- the perfect dress and lace gold top were both found in my mother's closet, of course. It's a literal treasure chest, hence the solid gold. Since going home, I've revamped my wardrobe a bit, swapped things out, and added items from the Value Village (more on that later). Although, these changes are not apparent considering it is 19 degrees outdoors, therefore I "am forced" to wear an average of 9+ layers before leaving the apartment. My new standard of dressing: If I'm not dying from heat stroke in the apartment,  I am obviously not wearing enough layers.

After visiting America for a short time, coming back to France was like meeting up with that old friend who smells like stinky bleu cheese. You just get used to it after awhile, maybe even learn to like it. It's different, it's hip to reek, so you just roll with it and pretend you never left. Lyon is the same city, but I have relocated. I've now been in my artistic ass apartment for one whole month and I couldn't be happier about my new living situation. Life is always a surprise (party). 

Did you miss me? And my fabulous modeling..?

jared's trousers

These were my brother's trousers. He used to work at Disneyland and these were a part of his uniform. Yes, he never gave the uniform back. So, I stole them and I love them.

My photographer made me sit on this wall.

The things I do for blog photos. I must really like you guys.

I was scared.

Do you see that drop? This is my "I'm so scared, I'm going to fall off this wall, it smells like pee smile."

Jared's Disneyland trousers, vintage cheetah top, vintage button up, Kylie's mom's sweater, and Guess heels:

My toes were cold.

Photos taken by Kylie Monet

The moral of this story is to conquer your fears, wear things you would never think of wearing, and steal from your brother, especially if he worked at Disneyland. À demain!

skirt over pants, namely jeans

This happened today:

Mmhmm.

For once in my life, I kid you not. November 23rd. Skirt over pants. I'm sorry, no other photos were taken and I'm sorry I'm headless in these pictures. All I have are these petite photo booth pictures that I took to make sure I looked crazy before leaving to go to school. I really wish I could have captured the disgusted, yet curious expressions of the French people I walked by. They couldn't figure out what hit them. Mission accomplished.

did you know i love berlin?

Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe

This is not just a monument, it is art.

Goodbye America, Guten Tag Berlin!

That awkward moment when you ask a nice looking, random girl to take a picture for you and the random girl goes to UC Irvine, then she cuts the top of Brandenburg Gate off in said picture. Thank you, nice looking, not so random girl who should never become a photographer.

If you were indeed wondering what the top of the gate looked like, there's a large bird on top of Lady Victory's staff.

What's Germany's national sport? Invading Poland.

Does this hotel look familiar? It shouldn't. Unless you recall THIS happening, which you should.

Onto some style, Berlin style:

Kylie trending skirt over pants, did I talk her into that? As Mr. Big would say, "Abso_@^#%_lutely."

Layering scarves. 2 out of the 12 layers I wore that day.

I don't feel like dancing, no sir, no dancing today.

I know you wanted a close up: 2 of Kylie's scarves, leather jacket, Kylie's chambray shirt, Cody's mom's gold sweater and collared shirt, a black long sleeved shirt, jeans, tights under jeans, red socks, small socks to keep my toes warm, and boots.

Why are we models?

The wall. When they said it fell in 1989, they were lying. It's still there; the only difference is now you don't get shot in the face trying to get into West Berlin.

Have I mentioned I went to Berlin? Have I mentioned I loved it? Oh yeah, just here and here, too and to everyone I've ever talked to after going to Berlin and now in this post. Do you all understand now? Yeah, I don't either. I guess I just have an unexplainable attraction to the TV tower.

In other news, I have successfully enabled Kylie and Sanaz to get addicted to layering, as you can see in this post. I promise the extremely cold weather had nothing to do with it. Layering is a serious addiction and an expensive habit. Okay, not really. It's pretty easy to do on a budget:

Step 1- Put all of the clothes you own on your body one layer at a time.
Step 2- Ignore the snide remarks and curious expressions.
Step 3- Create a blog and pretend you know something about the art of layering.