summer fashion statement

“You know what you need to walk the se­ri­ous­ly fash­ion for­ward streets of Om­a­ha? This deep V robe romper that will hang in your clos­et gath­er­ing dust next to your gold crushed vel­vet mo­tor­cy­cle jack­et while you fran­ti­cal­ly search for some­thing that re­sem­bles the white tank top you should be buy­ing in­stead. Let’s def­i­nite­ly get that to wear to lit­er­al­ly nowhere you go in your real life.” 
—Me shop­ping, apparently
 

I hate every sin­gle piece of cloth­ing I own.

I’m go­ing to dump the whole lot at a thrift store, buy some Uggs, PINK sweat­pants to tuck into them, and get a dirty col­lege t‑shirt hair clip head­band scene and just ease right on into that look that pep­pers the mid­west fash­ion land­scape be­cause dress­ing with my non­sense wardrobe is exhausting.

How do I not own a ba­sic white tank top? How is that hu­man­ly pos­si­ble with the 4,000 tons of cloth­ing I own – lit­er­al­ly by the num­bers. I have a mint green silk bomber jack­et, a trop­i­cal print cu­lotte jump­suit, jeans with se­quin par­rots on the thighs, but no fuck­ing white tank top. Where do I think I live? What life is my wardrobe for?

I know this is real life for my friend Olivia too since we both own the same char­treuse mar­ble crop sweater. Since every lady needs a char­treuse mar­ble crop sweater.

Though I think this is re­al­ly the prob­lem: I’m good with wear­ing this shit at my house but, like, the rest of the city?

Con­sumerism, also, can­not heal the di­vide. Es­pe­cial­ly when you’re ex­cit­ed to put on your first new open toe shoes for the sea­son and then you re­mem­ber your sad, un­pedi­cured feet ex­ist as a thing that you have to deal with.
 
 

—na­tal­ie michelle

Flom­mist Na­tal­ie Michelle does­n’t have a bio. She just rants. Copy­right © 2017 Na­tal­ie Michelle. Pho­to of Na­tal­ie by Nele Sudar.

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