Top: She Inside, Shoes; Zara, Skort: Scarlet Room
It feels as though my hair has been the same length for a very, very long time now. Looking back at old Facebook photos made me really stop and consider why I ever decided to shave half my head, to dye streaks of blonde throughout it, that at one point I had hair that could high-five my butt. I am a retired hair chameleon, and all I want is long, luscious hair like back in the days of being 14/15/16 with virgin silky smooth hair. My current hairstyle has decided to do a ban on time and has stayed the same awkward, in between length for far too long.
These photos were taken when Yan (Parfasseux) and I went to The Reserovir and ordered artery-clogging (but incredibly delicious) french toast. My life now seems to revolve around a) eating french toast, b) getting caught in the rain (and I don't even like pina coladas) and c) avoiding french toast. My house mate Kusa works in the navy and is currently at sea, so the apartment is incredibly empty all the time - all too tempting to cook, vacuum (i.e. do basically everything) in my underwear, and I'm sure the neighbours have filed a complaint about the large volume of rap music I am blasting while wailing into a glass of red wine. Living alone isn't fun. The novelty wears off in about a day.
The Reservoir
47 Reservoir St, Surry Hills, 2010 NSW