I don't have "adventures," either. I have this green tulle skirt:
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If you take all your blog pictures at night; you're gonna have a bad time |
It's a big pouffy skirt in a green tone. Look, I started this post one week ago, and found it very difficult to do. This post isn't about skirts, it's about life and shit. I started feeling depressed during the summer of 2012. It is now spring (allegedly) of '14 and still...I feel the pain.
Yeah, whatever. These poofs came into fashion at some point a while back, I don't know, I'm not an avid follower of trends. Of course, like many women of my age, I see things on the pinterest and think, "Hey, I want that." In fact, last October, I found one for cheap on the Goodwill Halloween rack. I made this outfit:
Remember that one? It was from my confessional, bizarre, "stories behind the blog" series. I put that outfit together, snapped some pics, and then promptly changed back into something more comfortable.
Here are some images I collected as inspiration (
click for finding sources). A tulle skirt--it's all twirly, it's ballerina wear, and it screams "I'm femme as hell!" But there's something unabashedly badass about this article of clothing. It's like; if you see someone in one of those you'll think, "Girl. Did you just put on an old prom gown, throw a t-shirt over it, and just walk out the door like it ain't no thang?"
And I'd be like, "yeah, and you wish you had one"...probably. I digress. When I saw this skirt at Savers during one of the 50% off sales, I figured I should buy it for $3.50. Here's the thing: it looked like lettuce.
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Do you see it? With those little layers? |
So, I started with a seam ripper, but that wasn't "cutting it" (sorry) so I used my scissors and gently removed those strips of delicate fabric, one at a time. I wanted the skirt to come higher on the waist, so I started folding the bare waist part over and pinning, like I was going to add a thick elastic. It wasn't working.
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To hell with that; Imma use this wide belt. |
The skirt slid away from the belt a little, I might consider sewing that thing right to the skirt. Or big belt loops. Or nothing, because here's the thing....
Two of my favorite blogs are
Refashionista and
New Dress a Day. If you're into sewing, I highly recommend these blogs. They've provided a lot of inspiration for me. In both blogs, the women take ill-fitting, ripped, stained, or otherwise ugly/unwearable articles of clothing and revamp them into fun outfits. First, they show themselves posing in an ugly dress; then the process; then the "after" shot of the finished product. Finally, both bloggers end the post with pictures of themselves wearing their new outfit out at an event, party, bar, art gallery, etc...
Hmmm...what's missing from my refashion posts?
This is me, in my lettuce tulle skirt, drinking coffee alone. I only make outfits so I can blog about them. I stage self timer-ed photo sessions and put the results here.
No one can say I didn't try. Even my therapist is concerned about how long I've been unhappy. I did what I was supposed to do; I started therapy, took medication, got a new hobby, started a blog, and even started my own
Etsy business. I was trying to cure my depression, but at this point, it seems that I'm just coping with it.
I think that I've been sad for so long, that it's no longer just "depression." This is part of me. This lonely, sad soul is who I am now. I feel like it's too late. I can't think of anything that would really make me happy. There's nothing left but pain.
Nothing can fill the void left by the lack of social interaction. It's very embarrassing...I cringe when co-workers ask about my weekend, but it's the case. I have no friends. It's just the reality that I have to deal with.
There's a couple actual outfit pics. Don't have a tripod, so I had some issues.
"Go out and meet new people!" you say, as if that's a thing. And share what?
There's a reason depression is a cycle. Sadness=loss of activities and friends=lack of confidence, and so on. It's like I don't even want no new friends! (throws laptop)
That's what it looks like when you wonder about the people you used to care about and love that no longer love you. They move on with their lives. They go out and enjoy the nightlife, driving right past the place where you suffer all alone. They leave you behind. And they don't miss you.
It's ok. There are people out there who have it way worse than I do. Of course, people suffering more doesn't make my sorrow any easier.
That picture of me looking all forlorn at a smiley face sticker isn't just there to be ironic or something. There's a story behind it. Next time I make time to write, that's what I'll tell ya about.