FATED TO BE HATED: H▲U†E WI†CH

I wore this outfit a couple weeks ago while Travis was in town. The occasion was nothing fancier than to simply see and be seen. We spent the day preparing crafts, eating fast food, and anticipating the evening. At nightfall, we stormed the Strip, equipped with a disposable camera and a thousand words ready to be depicted in film photos. Later, we met up with our friend Mark at Caesar's Palace, where we sat in a hotel room and listened to Taylor Swift.

FROM TOP TO BOTTOM:

Black cap- Another lifelong addition to my extensive collection!

Floral trench coat- Bebe

Floral Scarf/shawl- Vintage

Floral drop-waist dress- 1990s Saks Fifth Avenue

Belt- Vintage

Knee-highs- Drugstore

Witch heels- Salvatore Ferragamo

I was once racing around my room, desperately trying to invent an outfit that wouldn't result in prolonged insecurity throughout the day (as often happens when I foolishly choose to don denim jeans) when I was struck with a grand idea. When in doubt, dress goth. Perhaps it only applies to my personal fashion universe, as I frequently hear that 'gothic chic' is too morbid and solemn a style to sport on any occasion. But I'm vaguely certain that the best occasion to dress goth (at any extent) is when you're fresh out of ideas, need a standby, and overcome with the desire to turn heads while maintaining and elegantly witchy charm (no pun intended).

The bottom line is, I have a better grasp on the 'pagan vibe' than I do on most other contemporary trends. Maybe it has to do with my fascination with colonial America? And the fact that I lived in a 3-story Victorian house built in the 1800s for five years? In Massachusetts? I might also add that at one point I sat down and penned my own Magic Treehouse novel titled "Witches on the Weekend". It was about Jack and Annie venturing into Salem, Massachusetts where they witnessed a witch-hanging. 8 pages in I realized that my plot was just a tad too macabre for puerile audiences.

ANYWAY, here are a bunch of film pictures Travis and I shot of each other near the Venetian and Casino Royale.

****Disclaimer****

The cigarette is just a prop, yall. Neither of us are smokers.

That last picture is one of my favorite ever photographs of Travis. His eyes are half-closed as he nonchalantly strolls through the starry conservatory in the Wynn.