I can’t live in the city where dreams are made of, looking like a nightmare.

I have a make up addiction.

I’m not one of those girls that looks like they’ve gotten into a fight with a pack of Crayola crayons, thats the girl that sold me my cosmetics, bless her soul.

I’m not sure why I didn’t care about her appearance before I bought cosmetics from her? After all, my rules have always been:

1) Don’t get your hair done by a hair dresser with bad hair. (or ombre hair. purposely placed roots are just as bad as “i missed my 6 week mark” roots)

2) Don’t get your eyebrows done by someone with none (this includes tattooed on eyebrows or the other extreme of growing caterpillars across the face)

But thankfully, Miss. Bare Minerals representative did not give me bad recommendations, I love my purchases. I bought mascara, silver eyeshadow that turns gold as it wears aka the coolest eyeshadow ever, black glitter shadow, nude lipstick, berry lipstick, brick red lipstick, purple eye liner, forest eye liner, black eye liner, a lip stick brush, a fan brush, and eye shadow primer. For 45 dollars, this cosmetic excursion was much more successful than my Clinique trip 2 days prior.

I just wanted a “Taylor Swift’s last album-esque lip”. I didn’t realize I may have to sell my first born child to get it.. but Red Red Red is worth worth worth it. Although Bare Minerals has wax-less lipsticks, they don’t have a color with as much punch. I don’t regret purchasing my Clinique lipstick and anti-oil powder in the least.

My mother on the other hand, doesn’t understand the investment that cosmetics need to be. I hadn’t come to this realisation until rather recently, but you can guess mummy dearest has been around a few years longer than myself so I think she should understand. I’ve had an ongoing lecture from her about saving for my 10×10 cell in Manhattan. I know I need to.. but I can’t live in the city where dreams are made of looking like a nightmare. At least I haven’t attacked my wardrobe all that much, $100 dollars worth of make up is so much self control.

When I wasn’t hiding my facial flaws, I was allowing waterproof spandex to expose a few others. My swimsuit hunt at Old Navy and Marshalls was actually successful even though I decided not to order from ModCloth. It was quite frankly beyond successful, because I got two.

Picture this suit on a person that has digested a cheeseburger (okay 2..), has the chest to fill it out and a more tan skin tone. It’s actually really cute when you use your imagination. Think more America Ferrara and less Nicole Richie. Also, mine has more rouching, but not in a bad way.

Use your imagination just one last time, with this suit in coral! This bad boy was TWENTY DOLLARS at Marshalls, and so figure flattering. I’m not even ashamed to say both of these suits are one pieces, because they look really good! And although I may not have the oompa loompa above’s thigh gap or 14 inch waist, I can say I will honestly be proud to strut in these swim suits on a sandy beach of self conscious bikini wearers.

Allison

PS: With a little help from Bare Minerals and Clinique, this was my classy Coach work look yesterday:

Talk about life changing

That’s honestly the only way I can describe college; life changing. I’m only on the second day of Orientation, but I’ve been on campus since last Wednesday. It’s an awful lot to digest. I miss my parents. I miss my siblings. I saw my mom and dad yesterday, but it was not for very long and I was semi-independent and annoyed. I can’t describe how much I miss silence and my own space. I think I’m just one of those people that struggles with sharing. I feel unfashionable. Like whaaaa?!

I don’t really know how to explain myself, I’m at a loss for words. It’s never been a problem. I miss a comfort zone. I don’t miss my home town from before, I just miss knowing what to expect. I’m getting a lot better at knowing the campus though. It’s really pretty, and the guys are too (;

It’s a party scene though, not my thing. Not yet anyways. I have other things to adjust to, why would I throw something like alchohol into the mix? God, I feel like my mom. I wish I had more to say though.. Everything makes me feel more like a parent and less like a college kid. I’m cursed with priorities and knowing my responsibilities. I’m still self centered, but I painted a house for habitat for humanity for crying out loud. It’s frustrating. I’m meeting some really nice people. It’s not all bad. It’s just stressful. One of my books won’t be here till the beginning of september and I start monday. Not good. And everything is so much money.. It’ll all work out I suppose. At 12:30 I have a meeting with my communications major advisor, that’s a bit scary. I really hope I’m in the right major. This is all sooooo confusing. I love fashion, but I just felt unfashionable earlier? How is this possible? I just feel like I second guess everything, cry randomly, and want to shop constantly. I even crave silence. I’m not crazy though, I swear.

UGH.

Allison

PS: My eyebrows look like a chimpanzees. This adds tons of additional stress.

Bad habits.

When I finally have time to breath, it’s so hard to decide what to do. When all I have left is to study a little and my homework has been put to bed. What’s left? I’m just academically drained and it doesn’t seem to matter any longer how hard I try. A 4.0 is simply delusional for this semester.

I’m not good at that many things. So when one of them fails I turn to the other? School sucks so what do I do? Shop.

But after all of the damage has been done lately through my Poshmark app, mall trips, etc. I am not proud to say I have $10.62. And I am still working at K-mart as hard as ever. Thank God I get paid tomorrow.

I have an ever expanding list of items such as Sequined Sperry Top Sider Boat Shoes, an iHome, my hair recolored n cut in a bob (how would you feel about my face with an inverted bob?), a floral blue skirt, and Pink Sparkly Toms to purchase and no money to reinforce the desire.

When I can’t do well in school or shop, I am left with one option.

And you are a victim of it.

I will write and write and write and rant and rant and rant and when I’m done being inspired by absolutely nothing I may resort to cleaning my room, but don’t push your luck.

I have an iPhone that can distract me from that.

Hahahaha. My dad, who is simply untechy because he’s part of that dad age range that is.. well untechnologically advanced is debating becoming part of the 21st century and buying an iPhone.

Picturing his little bald head on FaceTime is slightly priceless.

I have tons of laundry.

UGH.

It’s the never ending To-do list, showing its face again.

I’m bringing Jenna to the store tonight to buy Crocs, she wants a pair of the unforgivable plastic/foam shoe. She has a yellow pair but the back strap came off and they can’t wear those in gym class if God forbid there isn’t a strap.

While she burns her 50 dollars of birthday money (which is more than I have, mind you) on those hideous shoes I will tease myself with Sperrys. I’m undecided as to what I will do with my money first when I get paid tomorrow, but whatever it is I better get the best therapy out of it.. because I need something to replace the terrible day I’ve had.

After I rant here I plan on ranting for my first article on Fashion Parkway. Where do I start though?! It’s always come so easy to me, ranting and raving at my own free will, especially when I am completely oblivious to who is reading this.. but on Fashion Parkway? They are ready have a large dedicated audience that I can impact and I feel like telling them what I had for breakfast will seem extremely tedious and insulting.

I’m sure I’ll have an epiphany as soon as I paint my nails. I have one hand of nails that are longer than the other. It’s extremely annoying, but I seem to only have the nervous habit of biting my nails on my right hand, so I need to paint my nails for 2 reasons:

1) I won’t bite them, as much.

2) I love seeing glittery nails flying across the keyboard.

And you know my nails will be glittery.

God.

Wait until I have a credit card… I am terrible at math. Which is a danger in itself, but if I had a credit card? I could own every sparkly nailpolish desirable. And multiple pairs of Sperrys.

And speaking of nailpolish and foreign things, I have to go the salon to get my eyebrows done with my remaining money tonight.

When my eyebrows grow out, I am forced to wear my glasses because they hide them a little. The curse of dark thick hair means I fall into this habit every 2 weeks. I refuse to tweeze them because I have the pain tolerance of a baby.

Phew. I feel better.

I hope everyone else has a great 4/20 tomorrow, no weed involved. Make smart decisions, buy something like perfume it smells better anyways.

Allison

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