fair verona

It turns out, when we go on day trips, one needs to be dressed appropriately for a church. Long dresses and wide shoulders are necessary.
Therefore, this dress from H&M.

what is on my face

makeup bag by clarazzle on Polyvore.com

Lancome HYPNÔSE DRAMA Instant Full Body Volume Mascara, $25
Physicians Formula: Happy Booster™ Glow & Mood Boosting Powder, $14
Korres Lip Butter Plum, $12
Fresh Here Comes the Sun Face Palette, $45
Fresh Sugar Rosé Tinted Lip Treatment SPF 15 Sugar Rose Tinted Lip..., $23
Benefit Cosmetics Erase Paste Deep, $26
SEPHORA COLLECTION Matte Blotting Papers Natural, $8
Physicians Formula: Shimmer Strips Custom Eye Enhancing Gel CreamLiner, $11
L'Occitane Ultra Rich Face Cream 1.7 oz, $40
Nars Cosmetics 30ml Orgasm illuminator, £21
ROUGE COCO SHINE - Lipstick - Chanel Makeup

I think this is more interesting than what's on my bag. You may notice I have an almost schizophrenic selection (forgive my misuse of the term. For the record, I know that's not in fact what schizophrenia entails. I'm a potential-psych-major over here) of nice products and drugstore brands.
Honestly, that's just the way I operate. I tend to err on the side of cheap things when I can, and things like eyeliner are pretty much always the same.

That said, there's nothing even close to Orgasm Illuminator at CVS.

i have confidence in me!

I have been considering themes of confidence lately. I have constructed a cheerful playlist. It is below.

>

Ciao, belle.

this is what i wear these days

It is hard to fashion-blog when it is too hot to wear clothes.

ninetyfive | Fashiolista

patriotism, delayed

Apologies for my unannounced absence this week. I've been really busy doing the America thing and the Arcade Fire concert thing and the homework thing.
(Yeah, I just slipped that in there casually so that you'd think I was nonchalant. Also, I just ruined that effect with my awkward parenthetical. Why am I so in love with awkward parentheticals?)

Anyway, celebrating the fourth of july abroad is quite a production. I feel like I actually appreciate the states more when I'm elsewhere in the world.

When I was in America, Independence day was that time of year that we'd go to a picnic and eat watermelon and see some fireworks. In Italy or Switzerland or wherever else, you get an acute awareness of how American you really are. 

looking weird on purpose

This is a post about my floral sunglasses.

Once upon a time, I only wore things that allowed me to blend in.

Let me tell you about eighth grade briefly. I'm too old to be writing about eighth grade, but for some reason I feel like I have a lot to say about it, so no one is going to stop me. 

In eighth grade, we had a school uniform. We wore white and navy blue polo shirts and plaid green kilts and brown shoes. On free-dress days we also had a uniform. We wore abercrombie jeans and pastel colored polo shirts and Jack Rogers flip flops. 

At school dances the uniform was similar, trading out the abercrombie jeans for denim skirts. J. Crew was also acceptable. That was it.

One day, I decided to rebel. That's the kind of angsty kid I was, full of simultaneous contempt and reverence for the social codes (I studied them like an anthropologist). I carefully calibrated the degree of deviance from the norm that would still be acceptable. I wore a maroon polo.

And I got compliments.

For being edgy.

I wish I could say that from that day forward I broke the rules all the time. That would be a boldfaced lie.  But being looked at like I'm doing some thing different and awesome still makes me excited.

And with that lengthy backstory, I present to you, my floral sunglasses.

some old rocks and stuff

The thing about maxi dresses is that you can take a night train in them, because they're like light portable sleeping bags in which one might curl up and flash exactly no one. 

Then, later, you can go to Pompeii and have your friends tell you you look like a model. Which is laughable, considering you just took a night train.

Maxi dresses rock.

Also, Pompeii. It's very cool. That wasn't my first time exploring the ruins of Vesuvius (my high school latin class had an Italy-trip when I was a junior), but making saucy poses in front of the brothel doesn't get old.

The thing about Pompeii jokes though is that they still feel too soon.