“Your style has changed lately, you’re growing up?” – One of these questions that I constantly hear lately and only occasionally answer. Because I hate me explain to, ever. But above all, because my answer has no value maybe tomorrow. I mean, is this all not somewhere very day form depending on? There are moments, where I’m thinking quite whether I like that “wild student life” missed simply because I disconnect after Berlin and wanted to write rather than to hang a master back up. Furthermore, whether I should buy my eye cream and whether it is probably normal that I must be at eleven in the bed, because I otherwise fall to prior fatigue. Such minutes I feel old. And grow up.
It may also be that I wake up in the morning and ask myself whether I’ll be adult for ever at some point. I see me sitting, for example on the floor with Harry Potter glasses on his nose and almost howling, because I the Lydia Lunch missed concert. To compensate, I stuff in me in Lachgummi and choose numbers on the dream phone with my best friend. What I’m saying: my appearance reflects not the maturity of my spirit. But the mood that buzzing in my stomach. On the weekend, it looked like:
I wore small Dingsis with eyes on my T-Shirt dress through the neighborhood and enjoyed me of life, while I tried to explain my friend why this piece gets romantic feelings in me out substance: it’s by House of Holland. And because Henry Holland was the first designer, for which I had to get on a plane, to a “decent interview” to do. And then he was also still so terribly nice. So really nice and not in the sense of “the little brother shit is nice”. I like it when combined memories with pieces of clothing.
On my feet: Dr. Martens. Because Dr. Martens will be the best shoes in the world forever. Prefers I wear them to bare legs, although it’s usually too hot or too cold for that. The late summer seems so right. On Friday we asked you yet then, whether it can be ever too old for certain items of clothing. Here is my answer.