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Tuesday , December 14, 2010
Thrift Scores with Laura Jane: St. Clair Ave. Goodwill, 07.11.09
A lot has happened since the last time I Thrift Scored. From most to least psychologically significant: I started liking the Kinks way more, I aged a year, and I 70% recovered from an eating disorder. Hooray! In the words of John Winston Lennon, "Life is what happens while you're busy making other plans." I would amend this to say, "Life is what happens in between Goodwill trips, apparently."
At this (awesome) point in my life, it feels counter-intuitive to post show-off-y photographs of myself wearing children's clothing to the Internet. But- In the grand tradition of my being overly and unexpectedly revealing in Thrift Scores posts- it's cool to be able to report what a chill and posi- time I had taking these "My New Clothes!" pictures. When I was living in anorexia hell, nogoodforme.com photoshoots were total self-torture. I would spend hours taking hundreds of photos, trying to get one that proved I was emaciated enough. I would contort my body into poses best-suited to maximum bone-jutting; I would always cry.
Today, every one of these pictures is a one-shot, because whatever- I look like whatever I look like and there's not really anything I can do about that. I'm sure I look fine, if not awesome, because I scored into some seriously awesome shit yesterday and, like, who wouldn't look awesome in this shit this awesome? I don't know. Maybe a loser. Not me, though. I look awesome.
1. THE SWEATER OF INCONVENIENCE: This sweater is adorable, obviously. I'm sure I will enjoy wearing it on the one day of the year the weather permits it- September 24th, perhaps? Cool breeze, sunshine-y, with high-waisted jeans and my Iron Maiden high-tops. It would be good third-date wear. Maybe I will be at a "third-date" place in my life by September 24th. Yesterday one of my friends suggested that I try to use nogoodforme.com as a dating site, like, for myself to find a great dude. "Um, I think that's implicit," I thought.
PS: Today I hung out with my mother, who congratulated me on "coming across as less desperate" on nogoodforme.com these days. Sorry to disappoint you with this one, Mom!
2. A CARIBBEAN GYMNASTICS UNIFORM FROM THE 1974 OLYMPICS: Hi. It's a leotard. The turquoise sparkles subtly. It is the exact same colour as the sporty Mazda Precidia my Father drove throughout my adolescence. I am fond of it. I predict that I will wear this leotard a lot in my life. It's "sporty."
3. J.CREW ON J.CRACK, INSTALLMENT ONE BILLION: As a rule, skirts don't jibe with my lifestyle. Pairing a skirt with a t-shirt is way lamer than the unstoppable combo of "t-shirt + shorts," and then how could I ever choose "skirt + shirt" over a kicky, beautiful sundress? I couldn't, is the point. This skirt, however, is the exception to the rule. It is perfectly in line with every principle of Stoner Girl Chic. It is made out of t-shirt material, and it has pockets. Deep ones, no less! I am wearing this skirt in real life, at this exact second. Earlier today, I wore it with a plain striped Oxford, and it looked pretty Cape Cod-ly sexy; now, I am wearing it with my Animal Liberation/Human Liberation t-shirt. It looks kind of bad, but I don't care, because it's really comfortable, and I know exactly where my lighter is. In my pocket.
4. "MARC JACOBS FOR CHILDHOOD" PURSE: What I mean by "Marc Jacobs for Childhood" is, imagine a parallel Universe wherein the Marc Jacobs empire was responsible for outfitting every single child in the world. And maybe he would design, like, the kindergarten classrooms, and textbooks and things. If this were the case, I should hope that he'd make it the rule that all little girls were required to have one of these wee purses, in the colour that best reflects the essence of their personality. I would be red. This is my exact "Marc Jacobs for Childhood" purse. Unfortunately, the only people who will ever see me wearing it are a) Starbucks employees, b) 7-11 employees, and c) people who run into me on the way to Starbucks or 7-11. I would never own a notebook teensy enough to fit into it, and not having my notebook around gives me stupid anxiety, unless I am dashing out to buy a venti (is Venti supposed to be capitalized?) iced Americano, cigarettes, or a Big Gulp. Tragic.
PS: I think "putting a purse on your head" is a very hilarious thing to do. Clearly.
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