Lookbook: Zara Romper and feminism

Lookbooks can either be just photographs that I love to look at but this one I’m not going to talk about my romper and why I’ve been loving it but how it’s my feminist breakthrough romper.

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To start off the lookbook I’m taking a quote from a book I am reading called You don’t have to like me by Alisa Nugent: “make choices about yourself instead of following all the rules, and abandon the notion that you need to follow any path in order to be a “real woman!” (Introduction xviii) that quote and the title is more me than anything.

The question I am going to be answering here is “what can you, a girl, wear when you are a feminist-or have strong beliefs, thoughts on women’s rights and equality.”  Because I feel like some days I have to be wearing my slogan T-shirts that say things like “not your body” and “make a women cum for once” LOLs. Because when I wear a cute outfit people seem to be caught off guard when I speak my mind or say “I’m a feminist.” Its like I’m wearing a mask or something disguise.


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It seems to be a feminist means not shaving my legs- depending on the day and how I am feeling my legs might not be shaved, but either one I don’t think that defines me as a feminist.  I am a feminist who loves to wear a cute outfit, who loves to do here make up, who will not hate on boys  ( don’t underestimate me). I’m a feminist who puts on heels and I think the world needs more feminist like that.


Wearing my Zara Romper

…..doesn’t make me lower myself, but embrace myself. This pin strip romper can easily be taking something that its not. Wearing it not only embrace my womenhood (1) it also gives me this femininity empowerment. I rock the V-neck with no fear or care for those judgment or lingering eyes. It’s girly enough but I can dress it Indie or Grunge- my two main styles when I’m not in T-shirts or jeans.  Pair it with a long necklace and some brown shoes and some body tattoos or grunge it up with a chocker and a messy half pony. The cut outs and bow tie with the ruffle end shorts bring a different twist to this romper that someone can easily say “you shouldn’t be wearing that it showing to much skin.” I say HELL to that.

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We are taking back our style  as our own. For instance heels, a shoe can seen as something that is sexy, long gates our legs making the eyes linger. But now  heels are heard with empowerment and determination in the street, into a building, into the office. I’m seeing it in a lot of girls, 20 something ladies and women who put on an outfit and rock it- not too look cute but to be a women! We aren’t standing in front of a car half naked legs open, no we are on the front of Sports illustrative with our thick thighs. It’s not only in the clothes we wear, but in the action we take, the things we say. We aren’t some pretty little thing you, we are women who mean businesses. The clothes can do all the talking but we take all the credit.

This romper is my own femininity meets feminist. It’s my feminist romper. When I put it on I feel good because I know what I look like. And no hooting or looks is going to change that. I wear the romper with a purpose to not hide who I am, forget my beliefs or fact even in this I could still through a baseball just as good as any guy.
Things are changing, thank god, but these ideas are still being taught, still given excuses, still not being punished but with a slap on the wrist.  Women aren’t here to please you, or give you what you need, women are women they need to be seen, heard and respected.

Processed with VSCO with 7 presetOur style are joining the revolution of women. Taking what is ours back. Fashion is all about taking risk, going out of the normal, embrace the unusual meets chic so do it with a point that next time someone says you look good, make sure they know you already know that, and your also here for a reason.

The goal for each lookbook or picture I post with #wiw isn’t to tell you what I wear but to bring power and femininity back into ourselves through clothing. I’m a feminist with style.


  1. a word I never really understood or even liked, it sounded old to me. But now I have this new found meaning of womanhood. That wonderfully female feeling that is mine no one else’s it’s mine (yours) sexuality. 🖤
    A word that can easily be consider “dirty” for a woman. But it’s not! It’s how we feel. How we embrace ourselves. It is something that is hard to find and seize but when you do you’ll feel this sense of love and strength in yourself, your mind and body. And most importantly it’s yours. Remember It will never belong to someone else! ✨ what I’m saying is embrace you’re womanhood 👄 feel no shame & if others try to demean you or put you down well….that says a lot about them selves also shame on them!

 


 

 

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A Night Out.

A story inspired by my own castle ❤

 

A Night Out

By: Kole.

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The night sky seemed clear but it was pissing rain. The street lights reflected on the ground as the ‘don’t’ walk blinked red on the zebra crossing. The girls sprinted across the street, covering themselves with their jackets so their hair that took ages to get right and the tan that took effort to put on wouldn’t be ruined.

Eleanor and Neve just laughed as they made it to the other side, barely.

It was a Saturday night and Washington street was brighter than ever. It could have been mistaken for New York, if you didn’t know any better, for the girls were just in Cork, Ireland. To Eleanor it was her city of lights. Eleanor was young, about 22 years old, she was raised in England but recently moved to Ireland. She left her family, that was splitting into two, for Dublin, but she hated it there. She was a forgotten girl in such a big city, which just wasn’t Eleanor. So, she headed to Cork, where she met Neve.

The girls headed over to Reardens, no better place to be on a night out.  You could hear the music playing and the people from the street. To Eleanor Reardens was her castle and she was the queen. It was the place she and Neve met; they had a mutual friend and hit they it off right away, which was new to Eleanor; she wasn’t use to having a lot of girl friends or friends for that matter. Eleanor was pretty, but she quickly learned the cost of beauty. She started modeling at the age of 12. With the uniqueness of her bright blue eyes and deep red hair she got a lot of attention. But, she had never wanted that attention.   

“ID’s” the bouncer said.

Neve dug for her’s while Eleanor swiftly handed her ID to him. The man looked at the ID then at her, eyeing her up and down; not in a creepy way but in a confused way. A girl like Eleanor should be sweet talking her way in, she didn’t need an ID.

“There you go,” he said nodding them in.

Eleanor reached out for Neve’s hand as she was known to get a little lost sometime. Eleanor walked past everyone like she was squishing a bug, eyes glared at her, looking her up and down. Eleanor took no notice; she was used to eyes looking at her that way. It was her job that made her this way.

“What you want to drink?” Neve asked, yelling over the music.

“I’ll get it,” Eleanor said, pushing her way to the bar for the people had their drinks and needed to move, “Four Vodkas.”

“Four?!” Neve questioned, “who else is drinking?”

“We are going to double fist them so we don’t have to come up here again!”

“Good idea.” Neve said, pulling out her phone.

Neve was real, she was down for anything. She wasn’t afraid to do things, she had no worries. Her fucks were at the door.

Eleanor got the drinks, handed two to Neve, and  her eyes wandered around the bar. That’s where she saw him passing her. Black jacket, brown hair boy with a look about him that showed he was trying to be tough; yet, he wasn’t tough at all. “Him,” Eleanor said to Neve.

“Him?” she question.

He walked right by taking no notice of them, which was fine with Eleanor; she liked a challenge.

“Yes him, let’s have some fun.” Eleanor said. Eleanor had confidence; it’s something she always had, even before modeling.

Eleanor grew up with her father always taking pictures of her and her siblings, he was a photographer, one of the best in the business. He did everything from print, to high fashion, to travel. He met the queen once to give her a picture he took while on a shoot on a Safari in South Africa.  And after doing so many low key shoots at age 15 she got her first real break in Cosmo. She walked in and they destroyed her; telling her she wasn’t thin enough, her hair was all wrong, her face was uneven, and the criticized the way she stood. And what did she do, she looked right at them and said; “There is nothing I can’t do.” and walked away. That walk got her that job. After that no one seemed to find anything wrong.

Eleanor was a wanted girl by everyone that by 20 years old she was lost in a world she never wanted to be in. Her mother was the big push behind everything she did. And soon that was what broke her family. However, before it broke Eleanor loved modeling. She loved the clothes, the places she got to go, the people she met and worked with, she loved the opportunity she got. But it wasn’t all glamorous. She, unfortunately, got caught up in it, just like her mother had.

 No one knew she left London. Her mom thought she was working somewhere in Germany or the Netherlands. Her father wasn’t even in London; he left to his family village with her siblings after she told him about her mother. He was upset with Eleanor for telling him.

 

The girls walked over to a free spot near a mirror; they stood there for a while talking  until they heard the song and the girls looked wide eyed at each other and with no words they headed straight to the dance floor, placing their now empty drinks on the table, as they moved their way through.

Eleanor turned her head, the rebel without a cause boy was right behind her. He was with a group of lads; he wasn’t out for the shift or a score, which intriqued Eleanor. Eleanor turned around grabbing Neve from behind, pulled herself through the lads saying, “Sorry boys,” looking at the boy. He had dark mixed coloured eyes. He moved to the side, staring at her. She smirked back, moving Neve and her right next to the lads to dance and waited; it was his turn.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Eleanor,” she said smiling, putting out her hand to shake his, still dancing with Neve who was not paying any attention, she had a boyfriend.

“I’m Ronon,” he said.

“Hi,” she smiled. The boy looked down and then right at her, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t seem awkward at all, he seemed confident, sure of himself, but there he was not looking Eleanor in the eye. “Are you out for the night Ronon?” Eleanor asked.

“Yeah, nothing special just the lads out.”  He took her hand and pulled her away from the dance floor to sit on the back seats of the dance floor. When Eleanor saw something she liked she went for it. And the boy couldn’t say no. She looked back to see if Neve was alright she put her thumb up. She was dancin’ away with those lads now.

 

People would always tell Eleanor how lucky she was; they’d tell her she was so pretty over and over again. It felt like a blessing at the same time a curse. While growing up her family was pretty close. She and her siblings never wanted to leave the house without each other. They went on family road trips to the countryside after they moved to London. Weekend trips away as a family were the best part. Laughing and smiling, her parents looking at each other like lovers do in movies. Having her family, her parents, that love made all the hardships of her life worth it. However, things began to break. First it was her relationship with her siblings, because she hardly ever saw them. She didn’t go to school with them, she had no clue what was going on in their lives–she couldn’t bother either if they asked. For Eleanor had her pictures on billboards across the world. Then the weekend get aways stopped, her father even talked about selling the house in the countryside. And then her parent’s relationship began to ruffle. Her father would kiss her mother on the cheek while she didn’t even look at him. And Eleanor didn’t even notice because, like her mother, she was lost in her own world to see what really was happening.

 

Ronon sat down on the coaches on the side of the dance floor, holding Eleanor’s fingers.

“I don’t dance,” he said pulling Eleanor in between his legs.

“That’s a shame,” she said, smirking at him. He, of course, didn’t look like a guy that did dance; he had two left feet Eleanor guessed. That was fine with Eleanor because she would rather dance on her own.   And she did. She just danced with Neve and his friends as he watched.

One night, four years into her modeling career, she was out at a dinner party, celebrating her probably biggest break ever, walking in both London and Paris fashion shows.  Eleanor was sitting at a table next to a boy, they’ve been flirting a lot, sending text messages back and forth. It all was harmless fun, but they never got to actually be in the same room with each other until now. His hand was on her bare leg moving up and down getting closer and closer under her dress each time.

He leaned in whispering some sweet words into her ears, kissing her neck. Eleanor laughed looking over to her mom. Her mother was getting felt up by her manager across the table. Her ring still on her finger, right in front of everyone Eleanor called friends, people she worked with. She thought about her father, and the look her parents once had for each other. She thought about when she was younger and how happy she had been. She thought about the words people used to describe her. Then her thoughts went to the guy, who wasn’t even her boyfriend, as he slipped his hand up her dress. Eleanor pulled away from the guy; he looked confused, as she got up.

“Where you going, babe?” he asked. She looked down at the boy with his perfect jawline and silver blue eyes and knew, she was nothing to him. He desired her; he did not want her.  

She said, “Don’t call me babe.” And the next morning she was on a flight to Dublin.

 

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Eleanor said to Neve grabbing her hand, pushing herself through people to the bathroom.

“This guy is 50 shades Greg,” Eleanor said closing the stole door behind her

“Greg? You mean Grey?” Neve said.

“Yeah that, did you see him?”

“Yeah, and when you pulled me away he turned to the girl next to him.” Eleanor rolled her eyes, “He’s drunk Ele, and so are you. Are you expecting to find your prince charming here?”

“Nooo,” she said thinking back to her model, not boy friend. “But he is cute and I don’t know, there’s something.”

“That he’s cute!”

“Yes and I kind of just want him, like not only for the night. And if that’s what he wants well, he can have it with someone else.”

They both laughed.

 

Eleanor walked out of the bathroom and sure enough Ronon was talking to the girl next to him. But, as she walked over to the group of lads Neve was talking to she felt someone hit her legs. She turned her head slightly; it was Ronon trying to get her attention. “Yes?” she asked him.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“The bathroom.”

“Sit,” he said, drunk. He couldn’t keep his squinting drunk eyes off her.

“What you want Ronon, you’re friend is getting jealous.”

“What friend?”

“The girl,” she said leaning over the girl, “is he your friend?” she asked.

The girl didn’t say anything. Eleanor felt like a bitch, but the drunk mind was taking her own.

“She’s not my friend.” he said.

“You can’t just pull me in after talking to her like that’s not nice.”

“I want you,” he said.

“Oh really?” How?” she asked.

“You’re interesting girl Eleanor,” he said.

“You haven’t even heard my story.”

He didn’t say anything he just pulled at her and kissed her. She kissed him back, even though his hand slide up and down her leg, even though they were drunk and he was just talking to another girl. Eleanor didn’t care he wanted her for not because she was some thing on a billboard, or labeled as this beautiful thing. He wanted her for he was  interested in her.

All night they were chatting and shifting in the corner. It wasn’t love; it was far from it, but it was the first time in a long time Eleanor was finally happy and she finally felt like she was wanted for herself.

“This is nice, you should hold onto this,” referring to her necklace. It was a little leaf feather gold chain she had gotten at TopShop one day.

“WHAT?” she said, not understanding what he was on about.

“I…I like this, it’s cool.”

“Yeah, I like feathers,” she said.

“You should hold on to this it could be–”

“You’re not good at this are you?” she interrupted him.

He rolled his head back knowing that she called him out on it, but instead of answering he kissed her and it was a good kiss at that. She wanted to keep kissing him and he wanted to keep kissing her.

“You’re interesting, Eleanor,” he said pulling away.

“Am I so?” she asked right back, looking into his ocean blue eyes.

There was a smile on Eleanor’s face. It was getting later in the night and Eleanor wasn’t going to let herself fall, not this way. She pulled Ronan away and looked down at her phone it was ten minutes to midnight. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah,” she said looking at him.

“Okay fine,” he said, looking somewhere else as he digged in his pocket, “before you run off, give me your number okay?”

She typed in the numbers and handed it back, kissing him one last time before letting herself go. Because at the end of the night she was going to be the girl that was going to leave, and if they wanted her they would have to come find her.  

“See you girls,” the bouncer said as they left.

“Bye captain,” Eleanor said.

“Next time lads,” Neve said.

Eleanor walked besides Neve down Washington street, drunk, laughing about the night.  She looked down at her phone; there were five missed calls from her mother, one even from her father. There was a text, too. Her dad apologizing hoping she was alright. And one from her mother asking where she was and why she wasn’t at the shoot two weeks ago.

Eleanor sent a mass message back, “I left London. I’m not coming back. I’m finally me.”  She had finally found who she really was. She discovered what was real through Neve. And, here on Washington Street was her place, this was her night, this is where she belonged.

Thank you for reading x 

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OOTD with Reality check.

Reality Check. 

I see a lot of people post there OOTD, which is fine, but if  I shared every outfit I wore it wouldn’t be that “fashionable” or even exciting. When I’m home home and not going anywhere or if I would run to Target, I rather just throw on clothes. And those clothes are on my floor. One day, the day I got this idea for this post was a day were my period was at its

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absolutely worst! Think my body has gotten use to the medication I use to help with my cramps and period, that one full day all I want to be is in a ball. Who wants to wear clothes? And if I went out and took photos or even tried with my outfit you won’t even know, unless I put in the caption and then would you even read it?  Here’s a hint, I do go out and take my photos. Because when I go take photos it isn’t for an OOTD it’s for content–but also for visual story to go along with my blog if thats to post it on instagram or along with a blog.

There are a lot of photos on instagram that are “fashion” and “ootd” related. Nothing wrong with that, I love clothes. But the reality is that there just clothes and instagram, clothes company and those people wearing those clothes hit the marketing mark when it comes to our love for outfits. It started with magazines with articles about clothes, 7 day outfits with 5 items. But with instagram its almost putting this real stamp on it, like these aren’t girls or guys you see in magazines these are every day people. Reality check, they really aren’t, not anymore. And think that just shows how we should assume what we see is what actually is. Like some photos me and my friend had a debate if they actually wear those outfits out. More power to them if they do.

This post is very short to basically remind people that what we see on instagram or on a blog, even in video isn’t the whole story. I am an open book, but I like to remind people that there are secrets between each page. Have you study English you know that is true; a book has a lot more to then the words on the page, the time it was written, what the author was going through, the time the book is place or where its placed. You may think you know but you have no idea. So even though tons of people are shouting and calling BS on themselves, instagram, the truth is the more we scream it the more it’s like calling Wolf. Instead just be, don’t say it, don’t hashtag it, just be it and if someone needs a reminder I’ll take them back to this post that’ll say:

The only thing fake about me is my hair colour, I’m human perfectly imperfect. 

 

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Why Fidget Spinners are not a toy: lets talk about accommodations for kids with learning disabilities.

I am who I am and you are you, we are different and that is okay. 

I have a learning disability and the best way I can explain it to people is that my mind works different than others and sometimes I need things to help me keep up. This post is a talk about all things I’ve used and the frustration that comes along with it. Read to find out more.

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I was in my economics class having to wait for the test to be passed out before I could leave. Usually I would come in and the teacher would hand me the test and I would go down to the room, no hassle. This time I had to awkwardly wait and then get embarrassed when I got up to leave, after the teacher nodded at me. The guy behind me tapped me on the shoulder as I got my bag ready, “why do you get to leave?” I told him “I need a quiet place, I get easily distracted, also I get my test read to me.” His answer was “I get distracted, why can’t I leave?” I was 11th grade, 17 years old, and knew exactly why and how I got those things said, “I have an IEP and I got tested, did you?” and walked right out.

This moment has stayed with me and re-plays in my mind when I come across similar situations. Like, fidget spinners; they are a popular thing that everyone’s selling, marketing, and treating like a toy, when fidget spinners are to help kids, like myself, to focus. It gives kids something to play with. It upsets me; so naturally, I’m going to write about it. And instead of going on a RANT I’m going to inform you about what I used to accommodate myself to succeed in school and in life.

  • Fidget ball: I got a fidget ball to play with in 1st grade. I remember sitting in reading time, legs folded up, ball in the middle. Playing with and being told I wasn’t supposed to show anyone or it would be taken away. I made sure of it. This helped me “fidget” around, get my nervous energy, or my energy somewhere while I could listen to the teacher. Even when I wasn’t looking or doodling in my notebook I still was listening. Being able to have that ball helped me; it wasn’t a toy.
  • Taking tests in a different room: I already mentioned the story about how I was asked by a student why I got to take my test in a different room than him. And I will say I never used it to my advantage, I always played by the rules. And even when taking a test in a different room it didn’t guarantee I passed the exam. I would love to show you my English syntax test. Taking a test in a room by myself helps me focus because there are no distractions I am able to feel a little at ease and read the exam out loud and talk out loud to myself.
  • Books on tape and/or having the test read to me: There were a couple of times in middle school that I would have the test read to me. Plus, I would get books on tape, or I would have my computer talk to me; I still do. Because I can easily misread or write the wrong word. I’m sure you have noticed that I will use the word “there” when I meant to type “their.” I just can’t see it or hear the difference. And sometimes I could read a word but it would be spelled wrong. And I WON”T SEE IT!
  • Notetaker/recorder/copy of notes: In college the one thing that was offered to me was a note taker, someone who would take the notes for me and/or I would get a copy of their notes so I wouldn’t miss anything. In high school, the teacher would give me their PowerPoint before class, or give me their notes, which was really handy. This was more for me to catch if I wrote down the wrong word and also for my comprehension.
  • Extra time on a test: I got either 20-30 minutes extra for tests so I wouldn’t feel rushed and could take my time. I know others can easily get test anxiety so I never took this for granted. Sometimes just having the extra time made me take my time. I did the extra things I needed to do to pass the test, like reading it out loud. I always felt guilt if I ended the exam early because I had the extra time.
  • Spellcheckers: Spelling is not my best, and yes I see the irony. But because I have dealt with this my whole life I work hard on my spelling. Checking it over and over; thank God for spell check. Yet, it isn’t enough. I use programs like Grammery or I have a handheld device where I type a word and it finds similar words I might want to use. And I create a cheat sheet of common words I misspell and how they really are spelled.
  • Smartpen: I had a few smartpens to write my notes and record what the teacher said. It was handy because the words I wrote down in the moment can play what was said at the time so if I missed something it was recorded. Also could put it on my computer.

And a lot more little things as well…

If people, like the kid behind me in my economics class, thinks having these things is a privilege they are 100% wrong. I needed these things, they weren’t something I took for granted, I used them to help me succeed. And even when I got to take my test in a different room I still had to know the stuff. I still failed some tests. The frustration is real, the hurt is real, and the unfairness or backlash I get is so unbelievable.

Having a learning disability means I just work differently than you and while learning I needed a few things to help me in the education system. I’m glad I get to talk about having a learning disability on here, so please let me know if you have any comments.  I was inspired to write this because of the fab with fidget spinners.

What I’ve been loving and what I can live without

similar post here.

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I think about sharing my favourite beauty/products I use, even thought of doing a “morning routine” themed post  but I really don’t know what to say . So thought I just do that stuff on FB page or on insta, but I don’t know I don’t think I’m “interesting” enough for that. I just wear make-up, I buy what I buy and I’m like everyone else on the ABH pallets why do I need to share that? But to have some easy going post I thought I share what I’ve been loving in the beauty/bathroom stuff. Along with what I could live without.

 

HAIR:

Tresemme Beauty-full Volume: I got this a year ago and after a shower I put it in and it does wonders to my hair-it does Volumes it. I used it a lot before going out.

Verb sea spray: I liked this especially after my hairs been in a top knot or some braids and I need some texture to my hair. I will then wash my hair afterwards because my hair will get knotty.

FACE:

Body Shop vitamin E range: I love this range I think it does wonders for my skin.

Urban Decay face mist: maybe this should go under make up, but this has really done wonders for my face and make up from getting onto my clothes.

MAKE UP:

Lo’real True Match Foundation: I got this foundation because Blake Lively was in the ad (I’m a sucker for blake lively) and I wanted to see if the foundation she used was mine-& it was! W3!! So I had to get it and I actually really like this foundation, I think it does what it says. But IDK if I’ll keep buying Lo’real stuff because what I’ve been reading, its all two different sides but its interesting I really don’t have a insight to this it’s just good to stay what kids call “woke”.  Teen Vogue Article here.

Tarte “Paaarty” blush: got this blush in my birthday gift from Sephora and actually been using it a lot. It’s less pinky then Nars one and more darker which does wonders for a tan.

Hoola Bronzer: is there anything better? I use this a lot more for contouring or what I like “shaping my round face”

Gimme Brow: this stuff is wonders for keep my brows in place but also for a quick “let me do my brows” moment especially when you don’t have tedious minutes.

Bum Bum Cream: I love the smell of it, I don’t know if it does what it say it does but that’s because I don’t use it every time I get out of the shower (i have the travel size) but I like.

Tyna Burr Martha moo: my friend went to England and was going to pick me up another one of these because I love it so much but she couldn’t find it. I think I love it for how it stays on for a liquid lipstick, I love the applicator. The colour is lovely and right up what I love for a lip. But this is the first liquid lipstick besides sleek that hasn’t disappointed me.

Can live without

“Better then sex”: it is good, but for a mascara that you can only have up till 3 months before its ‘bad’ and the price i think ill have to pass.

Nars foundation: its good but like its foundation and the price I couldn’t keep buying it

Naked skin hybrid complexion perfecto: I got this because a girl I worked with said its all she used. It smells funny and it doesn’t last long. I feel like things are still showing after applying.

NYX  HD studio finishing powder: the smell, it makes me sneeze and it drys not only the air I’m breathing but my face.

NYX Born to Glow: I read this was a dupe for these more expensive glow stuff. And I feel like it doesn’t do what it says, it doesn’t blend nicely.

NYX liquid lipstick:  OKAY I”M NOT HATING ON NYX AT ALL I just bought there stuff and when use it I just don’t think it works. And I was very disappointed in there liquid lipsticks. To be fair I haven’t found ANY good liquid lipstick here. They are all like this. When I do apply, it’s sometimes a mess and the colour doesn’t stay on. Like I actually have to reply it. For my Sleek and Tyra burr rally do I have to apply it usually after like a meal maybe but never throughout the day or after one drink of water. And that’s where I’m  disappointed.

If this stuff is what you want to see along with my other stuff “like” or comment below. And don’t forget to follow via email!

How to be a happy blogger

It has been a struggle with blogging especially with instagram, I am not the only blogger who is talking about this. We are all on the same page of how frustrating it is. Social media for blogging has become a place of marketing and expectations.It’s become not genuine. And it really gets frustrating and  you do began to question yourself.

I have felt this.  The content I have been taking this last month I’ve been deleting because I am not happy.  I’m really struggling with content and trying really hard to stay who I am and feel okay with it. Please note I don’t plan to change myself. But there are moments where I am like how can I still be me and still put out good, creative and eye catching content. How can I still be me but drive traffic to a city girl.

So. How do you stay a happy blogger when you are stressing to get the right filter on a photo or even the right photo to share.  There are thoughts that are blocking your creativity (what I do to stimulate my creative is shared at the end).

Getting ride of those negative thoughts! & those ideas! 

Don’t worry about not following the trends: as a blogger who doesn’t define herself as a fashion blogger, for good reason I spend most of my time in clothes from my floor and I don’t have the money to keep up with that.  It seems like you need to be talking, posting, have an opinion, buying what everyone else is. But that’s not true, you don’t have to follow the trends to be a blogger. Because  if you can’t be like them then be different and that will get you notice by the right people.

Definitely don’t worry about how many followers you lose or not getting: for me I look more of a safety reason of who’s following me. It shouldn’t matter how many followers you have, you may think it matters but it doesn’t. And in the world of # tags, and getting traffic to your blog and notice by people, don’t worry. The right #, or the right tag isn’t going to put you anywhere higher. The amount of shitty, un-quality pictures I see when click those # that shit seems to not matter. Use the basic # like #blogger, #fblogger, or your own. I think the best way to get followers is networking, and following other blogs and talking to them.

Who gives a shit about your ecstatic: In my moment of trying to figure out what I can do to bring more attention and traffic to my blog, what content should I use–they all tell about “themes” for post, filters, and not over posting. I’m here to tell you DOES NOT MATTER! I’ve done extent research and it honestly does not matter. Yes, its more appealing especially to marketing but to every day people nope. I agree with the whole don’t over post-& I like one blogger said how she started a blog because she needed a place for photos that didn’t make it on instagram. The stress of getting the right photo, the right filter, sharing at the right time. For me this is my main one I stress over that really has no need. So duck it in the bucket.

Don’t be afraid to put you’re voice out there: Do not be afraid to put your voice out there, “put your stamp on a topic”. I think the one thing you need to do when it comes to blogging is be yourself! if they don’t “like” it –that’s fine each to their own, if they “unfollow” you then you probably didn’t want them to follow you anyways. If they don’t read or click on your blog or read you caption well we have a whole different blog post for that.

Don’t try and play the blogger game: Okay this is going to sound so “high school”. But I’ve have had so many times that theses  “blogger game” happen. The only going to like a bunch of your photos every other week but don’t follow you or the girl who kept unfollowing me over and over again, even comment, but then unfollowed me a few hours later. Sadly blogging is going to have those “mean” people. The key & i did this in high school to: Don’t even bother. Think the best thing we can all do is don’t follow, don’t engage and you know what take the likes they give you but that’s their game they are playing-not yours.

Be yourself:  Your doing blogging for yourself and if you have other ideas of blogging and what blogging should be rather the “norm” or “whats trending” then go for it! Have no fear! 

Five things can do to break the slump!

Everything I look at for inspiration looks the same or what I see I can’t create–limitations of time, location, or not have the right tools (Indesign) or fact I don’t know how–there is no book on this stuff! I sometimes wish I could  clone me or a second friend I could work with so there would be a creative flow, but there’s just me. So here is 5 things I do to get myself creative:

  1. take a walk with your camera
  2. play dress up
  3. buy magazines look through them then make a collage out of them
  4.  scan pinterest. this one has become almost not helpful because everything looks the same. but if you have something in mind and need ideas search it. 
  5. Follow other girls for inspiration and even talk to them, bounce ideas off them

Hope this blog gave you some different mindset to instagram then what you’ve probably been seeing/reading. And that you will find your creative spark and own self again in content. I hope this post gives you inspiration and a different voice to “how to increase traffic on instagram” or  “how to build following on instagram” Because the truth is it’s all BULLSHIT. I say be you and the people who follow/like what you put out are the only people who really matter. And you want to follow you.

 

Here’s some creative thought to go along with this post. 

For the girl who need the reminder of the importance of confidence in herself.

You are feeling discourage in yourself and wanting it all to stop but you don’t know how. So you spend the day in bed questioning everything instead of taking action because every time you take action you are reminded by so much.  You look in the mirror and you see it all; you see your flaws, you see what they might see, you can’t unseen it. And it gets to you. You began to feel unhappy but you’re not sad, your something else. You do not feel that confidence you once felt.

Happiness doesn’t come for things you have. You can go on a shopping spree and it can make you happy but only for a second.  Happiness is how you feel about yourself & if you don’t feel that than what happens? You’re good, you’re breathing it’s just that life has become a little  frustration. Things are getting to you and you began to go down and you get discourage.

You are feeling that fear of failure in yourself and start to see it more and more, that your losing the important parts of life.

You’re going to get a little lost, your going to question not only things but yourself, you’re going to get a lot of no’s, your going to get those looks and you just want to get there. You wish people stop talking and telling you things and start handing you the directions you need. You need those words to tell you exactly what you need to hear. So here they are. If we stop questioning ourselves, letting these things frustrating us and making us feel discourage (easier said then done) that we will soon be feeling like ourselves again, we will laugh spontaneous, we will look in the mirror and there you will be. 

Not loving yourself won’t get you anywhere, it will be hard especially when you’re questioning yourself after a something that effects you so hard, you’re feeling out of place, your feeling the weight of the world, you see your future and your scared, you feel stuck.  And each time you come back to yourself and feeling like your not enough. You need to know you are worth it despite not meeting the demands of others, not having the enough experience. You’re will and confidence in yourself will shine through the heartbreak or hurt. And you will find yourself where you need to be.

Put that effort in yourself again. Where the discourage you felt will turn into confidence. You will feel worth of who you are when you look at yourself, when you walk in a room, you will know despite not looking or acting like everyone else you belong here. That person you’ve been missing will be in front of you again.

And you will soon find yourself without realising in the place you’ve been struggling to get to.

 

 

 

P.S I’m not going to tell you that it will all work out in the end, or when you get to the point you will have the closet full of shoes, maybe you will. Who knows!?