August 31, 2013

Mixed Prints, Mixed Feelings

Tank: Alexander Wang | Skirt: American Apparel | Shoes: Madewell | Handbag: Rag & Bone | Sunglasses: The Row

I've been really into mixing prints lately, and when I say "lately" I mean last week/weekend. I don't know what got into me—maybe it was that damned dress code at my last job, or maybe it was the fact that somehow my leopard-printed bras got tangled up in my striped T-shirts while doing the laundry. Whatever it was, hallelujah—prints on prints! This American Apparel sunflower print skirt is my new fave. I had something similar when I was four or five years old, except that it was overalls.

I'm trying to take in these last days of summer, even though I dread the thought of summer even ending. And the big news is fashion weeks starts for me tomorrow! Fashion week makes my heart sink and sing all at the same time—it's the hardest part of my job, yet the best part of my job. Look out for our show on Friday—it's going to be beautiful!!

August 21, 2013

Sabbath Bloody Sabbath

See Black Sabbath live, in concert: CHECKMATE. This was such a great show, even though we were basically up in the nosebleed section and Ozzy was the size of an ant. But man, he rocked for being in his mid-sixties. He sounded better than ever, and was sweating his ass off trying to get us to "put our fucking hands in the air!" I love him—he was a megababe back in his golden days. And even though he does seem a bit senile nowadays, he is the closest thing I'll ever get to a doppelganger.

It was a dream come true. I felt like I was semi-fulfilling those yearning feelings I get, wishing that I could have attended at least one concert back in the 60s or 70s. The crowd was equally as pleasing: Fifty percent Sons of Anarchy, fifty percent Dazed and Confused—also known as heaven.

I've said this before, and I'll say it again: If I could go to a concert every night of the week, I totally would.

August 16, 2013

On New York

Dress: A Little Wicked | Sunglasses: Free People | Sandals: Madewell

New York City is generally known as the city of dreams, the city that never sleeps, or one of the loneliest cities in the world. I find these so ironic, because they're all so true. New York is the greatest and the worst thing that ever happened to me. I was so ready for it when I left Los Angeles to come here, and so done with California. And, I never thought I would say this, but I actually miss Los Angeles at times. Everything in New York is difficult—not that it's a bad thing, it's just a difficult thing.  You can never get everything you need in one place, and once you do find the things you need they're ridiculously expensive—we're talking ten dollars for a box of Lucky Charms here. TEN DOLLARS! For a box of carbs that have little to no nutritional value whatsoever! And, when it comes to making friends, it's nearly impossible—everyone already has their friends. Everyone has their own group, their own agendas...

Nobody ever said this life was easy, I know. But goddamn, being in my twenties has been quite the road to hoe—hoe like the gardening tool, not the derogatory term for a woman BTW. I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 23!

June 9, 2013

To Brunch We Go

I'm wearing an Alexander Wang tank, a Reformation skirt, black leather Converse high-tops, a Levis denim jacket, and carrying an A. Wang "Marion" handbag.

I got this top at a sample sale and it's probably the tightest and brightest thing in my closet—making it  the best thing to go out in, and the worst thing to go get brunch in. But I did exactly that. I went to brunch with friends in this amazing Wang top that is so blindingly colorful that it verges on sorority girl neon, and is so sportingly tight that I could mistaken for an Olympian swimmer while wearing it. Whatevs—it's my outfit and I'll try what I want to, right? Plus, orange is on of my very favorite colors. And speaking of color, after working in an office with a strict dress code of blacks, greys, and whites, I'm going to flaunt as much color as I possibly can.

Again, all photos by Dylana Suarez