Fashionwrote

Fashionwrites about your person...
Fashionwrote about your life.

In Fashionwrites, I tell the tale of my everyday outfits, the characters they conjure from within me and the personas they project to the public eye. However, this is Fashionwrote. Everything has been written--and my life is in these photos. Fashionwrites documented each chapter, and Fashionwrote bound them together.

Story of my (current) Life

“Take chances. Tell the truth. Date somebody totally wrong for you. Say no. Spend all your cash. Get to know someone random. Be random. Say I love you. Sing out loud. Laugh at stupid jokes. Cry. Apologize. Tell someone how much they mean to you. Tell a jerk what you think. Laugh till your stomach hurts. Live life. Regret nothing.”

If you love someone, tell them. Forget about the rules or or the fear of looking ridiculous. What is truly ridiculous is passing up on an opportunity to tell someone that your heart is invested in them.

Fashion Fail 2

I have a beef with some of fashion’s greatest wonders and simultaneous blunders.

Wonder: Long necklaces drape your body as a never-ending accessory, gracing the top of your navel like you’re crowned, bejeweled royalty. Bow down to the length of my gold and silver chains and my adorable belly charms that can take any outfit from peasantry to monarchy. You don’t have to fuss with the bicep/tricep workout of having to manuever the chain under your hair and around your neck and latching the two ends together—it’s comparable to putting a needle to a thread, except that you can’t even look at it. That type of thing is grunt work. Queens just slip these long wonders over their heads with the greatest of graceful ease.

Blunder: Why must every single one of my Queenly steps be accompanied by the spotlight-stealing, obnoxious bounce of my large pendant that dangles on the end of my chain? Must it attract such type of attention to my royal tummy—as if it were some main trampoline attraction? And why do the chains, no matter the size, the color, the weight, funnel down like shining, bright waterfalls between my breasts, accentuating it as awkwardly as possible? You’ve just desecrated my royal body. Thanks a lot.

Either way I love them, have too many of them, and will get more of them. And that’s despite that it’s ridiculous to hang all of them on my jewelry hanger and over the side of the shelf. Pish posh. Let those suckers hang. *Pardon my un-royal like expression.

(Source: fashionwrites.blogspot.com)

Few of my Favorite things

That even fewer know,

though I don’t hide it.

Dragons. Poke’mon. Video games. Kingdom Hearts. Fantasy novels. Twilight. Harry Potter. Reading. Animorphs. Artemis Fowl. The Girl with the Silver Eyes. Initial D. Car racing arcade games. Dew drops on plants. The smell of air con. Animals. Tigers. Writing. Singing my life like musicals. Rapping. Eminem. Rap. Beyonce. Hip hop. Tahitian. Boxing. Dancing. Performing. Acting. Creating songs while in the shower. Victorious. Disney channel. Beck. Phineas and Ferb. Boy Meets World. Moulon Rouge. Troy. Finding Nemo. Swan Princess. Pocahontas. Mochi crunch. Popcorn. Meat Jun. Chicken katsu. Pho. Saimin. Cup O Noodles. Li-hing mui. Climbing mango trees. Pitching blanket tents in the living room. Making my mom laugh. Recording my family. Reminiscing about the past. Collecting piggy banks. Filling up piggy banks. Collecting cute vending machine toys. Traveling. Rambling.

TMI

Meeee
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Meeee

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