My weekend went a little something like this:
I proceeded to wake up Saturday morning, after getting only about two hours of sleep, and decided that I wanted to go home. I was in a mindset where all I wanted, was to be in the comfort of my parents home and have the opportunity to relax and catch some rays outside (a luxury I do not have at my place in Toronto due to a serious lack of backyard). I woke up having one of those “where is my life going?” anxiety attacks and my inner 5-year old knew the only answer was to go home and have my parents reassure me that everything was going to be OK. When I say reassure me, I really mean make me great meals, give me free beer and listen to them tell me how proud they are of me, what a beautiful woman I have grown into (was I ugly before??) and other things my vanity enjoyed such as, how much colour I have gotten and how my arms looked skinny (thanks mom). I seriously spent the entire weekend walking around, feeling like I was queen shit. I even sat out in my bikini. This may not seem like a big deal but there are no fences that surround my parents, or any of their neighbours, yards. I was basically on display but my desire for warmth and a nice tan outweighed potential eyes that were probably never on me.
I am actually in love with it (again, thanks mom). You can’t really tell by this picture, but it has a lot of volume. This is nice because I have fairly thin hair and volume is generally not really an option for me. I feel like this look is also a little more “sophisticated” as the Russian called it. I actually had someone refer to me as looking “elegant” (suck on that dude who said he had never seen me be elegant…seriously who even says that though?) Goes to show that high-heels and a black cocktail dress isn’t the only way to be classy and elegant. Word.