holla graphic

When you hang out with me, you're also hanging out with my outfit. Bringing this up because the coat I posted about yesterday reminded me of an old friend (male, of course) who almost always felt uncomfortable being seen with me in my opulent faux furs, animal prints, and sequined hats. For obvious reasons; the fashionably unacquainted man assumes all lavishly dressed women are looking for the attention of 'potential buyers.' First of all, that is a myth, as most sex workers are undetectable and dress like anyone else. They don't have the privilege of looking too conspicuous. Second of all, insinuating that I look like a sex worker doesn't offend me or make me want to change my clothes. 'Sex worker' isn't, or at least shouldn't be, a pejorative. I know many very intimately, and the crazy thing is, so did my uncomfortable male friend. He simply didn't know because he didn't ask. So for future reference, I don't have time for the implicitly classist comments about my look, even if they are delivered in jest.

Unapologetically, this is me. Thriving in flashy metallics, plush whites, and Bruce Jenner's beautiful aviator aura.




24 HRS holographic snapback, OASAP crop sweater, Style Moi holographic wrap skirt, Alexander Wang bag, PinkBrix rings

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

cotton candid

Oh how I yearn for the days of not getting my ass kicked. I'm talking about the weather, not the fact that I'm a bully's pipsqueak dream victim. Every time I leave the house I get assaulted by 1) perfectly tolerable winter temperatures that feel like summer to Minnesotans but hell frozen over to me 2) extremely RUDE wind currents that have absolutely no respect for my hairstyle. So I'm left longing for the days of tie-dye tank dresses and frivolous faux fur... ya know. Back when your life didn't literally depend on your vestiary armor. 

This pastel power combo features a hippie dippie Romwe tank and platform boots from Echo Club House (formerly Swaychic). Matched le transparent pink Claire's purse to le transparent pink cap and called it macaroni.




Romwe rainbow print dress, Daily Look coat, 24 HRS snapback, Cobrashop aviators, Echo Club House "Under Construction" boots

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

shred white and blue

I know, amazing pun. We all know I'm not a patriot so I supplanted the red for shred. Enter my spankin' new boyfriend jeans and oversize blue flannel from Break Ice Trends. I originally intended to couple these pants with suede heels and a leather clutch purse, but on the way to the shooting location with my photographer I donned a pair of beat up white Keds for comfort. Then I saw my reflection in a mirror passing by and realized this, this walking from one place to the next, is the real subject of my vision as a blogger. The candid moments, not the staged glamour. So here's a real outfit for a real mission. 




Cobrashop Bug-a-Boo shades,  Diesel leather jacket, American Apparel crop top, Break Ice Trends flannel blouse and boyfriend jeans, Pro Keds 

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

no road

There's only one road, the road to no roads. It's kind of like the "there's only one rule, no rules" principle except motivated by the threat of suffering and not the incentive of unregulated pleasure. I read Civilization and its Discontents once.

My gold letters bracelet (fashioned at a BCBG pop-up shop last year) used to read "ADORNO" - my then-favorite theorist. After much conflict with my spectacular fear of not appearing a chic poststructuralist in the spring of 2014, I changed the letters around like an anagram and created "NO ROAD" instead. I read a Guattari essay once.

I clearly didn't get it. But it could be worse. I could be accessorizing my reading history on much more public platforms like Twitter or Facebook, where people actually go to compare their content to my content. As for this platform... I imagine people just wind up here. Never a destination. Always an accident.



OASAP studded dress, Cobrashop sunglasses, vintage boots

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

glamour kills day one: dream forever

During this confused summer to fall transitional stage, I couldn't be any hungrier for inspiration that marries leisurely California beach vibes with the mystery (and mystique) of American autumn. Glamour Kills nails it no matter the season, so I'll be wearing one of their tees every day of the week to showcase their recent collection. It flows 'seamlessly' into my wardrobe and can 'top off' any theme, any occasion. Today my inspiration is clearly puns, Palm Springs, and a convertible parked somewhere untraceable between indistinguishable desert acres. Peach sky stratum stroked with cumulus wonder match the pinks in my shirt and kimono. Gold shades to guard my eyes from uninvited gaze. Shoes that only speak when spoken to.

Glamour Kills, thanks for the opportunity to not only live the dream but dress the part.

Glamour Kills "Dream Forever" muscle tee, Romwe "tassels floral print kimono", YES platform "Pound" sandals

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

tutti frutti

I'm supposed to be in LA today, doing fun things like 'nodeling' and photographing my friends. But of course everything went wrong when I tried to travel yesterday, I had several panic attacks, and I predictably shut down to avoid the frustration of building a backup plan. I don't understand why the universe hates me with such an unbridled fervor. This has honestly been the most painful, un-fun year of my life. Pure torture the whole way through, and to make matters worse, I'm still waiting for my meds to kick in. 

But on a lighter note, I'm wearing lime green overalls and a fruit print crop top I 'nodeled' for Tunnel Vision with The Fabulous Stains a couple months ago (full editorial ~here~). Fond memories are all I have. Memories and crop tops. 



Cobrashop sunnies, 24 Hrs crop top, OASAP overalls

Everything is infinite,

Bebe

1993

LAST POST OF 2012 SO WHAT BETTER WAY TO HONOR THE OCCASION THAN WITH AN OUTFIT HOMAGE TO THE DECADE IN WHICH I WAS BORN?!?! I'm repping '93 and the golden age of grunge. Surely the concept of a superficial fashion post about the aesthetic elements of an anti-corporate movement comes across as irritating and ironic to 90s OG's, but since I'm already pretty progressive, I think I can get away with this one. ;-) I went with the most classic vintage (or vintage look-a-like) pieces in my wardrobe to capture the essence of a generation that survived on garage rock and microwaveable burritos. My greatest accessory: a sticker-coated Walkman and Pavement cassette in tow.



FROM TOP TO BOTTOM:
Sunglasses - Buffalo Exchange
Tattoo choker - Cobrashop
Guitar pick necklace - Gift from my friend Leigh Alexander, my #1 90s style advisor
Cargo aviator coat - Chicwish
Calvin Klein crop top - Vintage from Shoppalu
Plaid shirt - Ralph Lauren
Denim circle skirt - Chicwish
Skechers boots - Buffalo Exchange

There's a million and one other sartorial ways to do the 90s justice. Crew neck sweaters with a single navy stripe across the chest, paired with Dr. Martens and light-wash boot cut jeans. Middle-parted brown bowl cuts for the dudes, pixie 'dos with maroon lipstick for the chicks. Inspiration is endless. What's even crazier is that the next generation will look back at us, pioneers of fashion in our own respect, and admire the styles we take for granted in 2012. Here's to 2013 -- savor every trend, relish your youth, adore the present like it's a page out of tomorrow's cherished history textbook (or nostalgic Tumblr reblog in the future of URL). Doesn't always feel like it when it's happening, but maybe your golden age is right now. So respect the shit out of it. It's a concept as obvious as it is underappreciated... so make a change and take advantage! You never know.

Everything is infinite,

Bebe Zeva