It had been a few days but nothing had changed. My friend and I were still fighting. Fake bae and I were still good. Actually, not good, better than ever! We we going out more and diving deeper into each other than we had to start. Or so I thought. I was feeling confident, in myself, in us. So I didn’t really question the outcome of having “the conversation”. You know, the relationship one with feels and shit. Like, “OMG, we’ve been hanging a lot and I just like, really vibe
There were a lot of signs. Red flags that I shouldn’t move forward. Shouldn’t pursue the attractive, talented, muse of a man who was showing interest in me. The signs were there, sent as a attachment on every text and email. For god's sake, he sent me fucking “Lossin’ Control” by Russ, ballad of the guilty man, the “ex-cheater”. “The signs were there”, a saying I now repeat to myself when I look back, wondering how I got sucked in the sink hole of shit that is the mess he cre
He had the type of name that screamed, “I was in a fraternity!” Unsurprisingly to everyone, he really was. For the purpose of anonymity, we’ll call him Sebastian. I stumbled across Sebastian’s profile on Tinder almost immediately after deciding to rejoin. I didn’t normally dig white guys but something about the sandwich shoved in his mouth on his profile pic really spoke to me. His profile read, “Live. Laugh. Love. Harvest Organs.” It made me wet just reading it. I wouldn’t s
For a large amount of designers the motivation behind their dream is monetary. Yes, they must possess a genuine eye for fashion to be successful. But that doesn’t negate the reality that most brands are, likely, primarily interested in the monetary gain.
Then there’s Kikkit! A Richmond based clothing brand whose concept is quite the opposite. Don’t let me trick you by implying they’re not about the benjamins. They are! However, the owner’s motivation is slightly different.
I thought I was going to feel better, but I didn’t. Better, having a different definition than relieved. The weight of the decision was now gone, but the impact of it still resonated. It didn’t matter that he ghosted me for days after, or at least, I didn’t think it did. Because when he finally reached out, my initial interest to respond had nearly dissipated. Images of his texts and actions popping into my head like infectious flash backs that I couldn’t stop. It was all bul
Who’d have guessed my life would become a SZA, Cardi B, or any other heart broken bitches album. I guess that’s how it happens with fuckboy love though. After complimenting his hat at a show, I decided to DM him. I liked guys who hung out alone at events. It showed less thirst than the other men who meandering around searching for pussy to fall in. He replied right away with the proposition of drinks and of course, I agreed. After securing the date, he followed up with a mess
When it comes to the world of fashion, there is no specific standard or structure. Your job, as a designer, is to make well made clothes that either make a statement, or appeal to a large enough audience to be worn. Occasionally, if you’re lucky, your design(s) will do both.
This brings me to Amanda Welch, a fashion designer from the DMV that toes the line between grunge and high fashion. Producing pants, bodysuits, capes, dresses and more, each with an individualized detai
Maybe it’s just me, but I can’t think of a better way to spend an evening than by watching a bunch of kickass, quirky women, kill it on stage. Not to mention, this particular show landed on International Women’s Day! So, yeah. The hype was real. Now, don’t let my statement mislead you. It wasn’t all girl bands. (Though that would’ve been sick) It was, however, mostly female singers. Which is good enough for me.
Let’s start with ING, an indie band from VA that absolutely fit
Now, we may not have had a title, I’ll give him that. But, the 6 months of talking, planning to move in together and solidifying exclusivity was close enough for me. I didn’t start this trend of disrespect and bullshit in our “relationship”, but I could sure as hell end it.
When he pulled up, I threw the charm (or whatever it’s called) at him. I knew I should have kept it, just to be extra petty, but throwing stuff always adds a nice, dramatic touch. He looked dumbfounded a
It had been about a week since the “move in” talk and we had yet to readdressed it. This, in itself, was not a big deal. Seeing as it was just a conversation, not a concrete step. What was resonating as an issue was his attitude. It’s not like he had done a total 180, or anything that obvious. It was more of an underlying distance that hadn’t previously existed between us. Looking back, I realize I should have recognized this as a red flag. But what did I know about relations