BLACK LIQUORICE † LIGHTS OUT

DISCLAIMER: SKIP THE NEXT THREE PARAGRAPHS IF YOU'RE IMPATIENT/DO NOT ENJOY MY PERSONALITY. IT TAKES ALL THREE OF THEM FOR ME TO MAKE MY POINT. HOWEVER, IF YOU ENJOY STORIES, READ ON.

Are you eating enough candy, bbys? The Spencer Niemetz daily recommended serving sits between 2 to 5 candy bars (the inside of which may vary according to individual preference so long as the exterior layer is a liberal chocolate coating) because FUCK PRECONCEIVED BEAUTY STANDARDS if they interfere with you getting your candy high on. That's actually a little hypocritical of me to say right now though, I'm trying to cut back on my daily candy intake. For the past year, I've replaced one daily meal with roughly five times the actual (not Niemetz) serving of candy every day and it's kind of gotten me feeling less-than-pretty and I probably have cavities and I know that there's no way I'm going to actually go to a gym or run a block or do a sit-up because I'm L A Z Y, so my only alternative was M&M abstinence. It's been a challenge, believe me, but I know that I'll either achieve success and learn to enjoy my treats in moderation or, more likely, just give up and go back to my vice because I have commitment issues.

Either way, you know what candy I just CAN'T do? Black liquorice. Licorice? Normally, I get turned off by Americans incorporating the British English spelling of certain or/our words into their writing for purely plastic artistic value in an attempt to establish their "originality" by being quirky and I'm sorry, but you're not Zooey Deschanel and you never will be and quirkiness doesn't really look cute when she does it either and she knows it. However, I'm also a sucker for interesting word/phrase/sentence structure (sometimes to an extent that breaks grammatical rule, as evidenced by my penchant for repetitive usage of the word "and" in place of the serial comma, demonstrating the adverse effect that excessive Nicki Minaj-listening has on the human mind) and something about "black liquorice" in contrast to "black licorice" is just so much more interesting on the eyes, at least, on my eyes. In fact, were a candy shop owner to label with Q alternative, I would probably find myself sampling a piece, knowing well before consumption how much I hate the taste. If I lost you after the first sentence, let me bring this all to a point. I've been listening to a lot of Azealia Banks this week.

Azealia Banks is this fantastic rapper but wait, she can sing, but wait, she just played a great performance at Coachella (and was styled MARVELOUSLY, thank you KESH), but wait, she's pure talent/no gimmick, at least, not yet. She hasn't broken big yet, but I heard about her through a friend of a friend of a friend of a friend and her flow is SICK (isn't it surreal when I talk about things like a rapper's flow or cop out and use "sick" as a glorifying adjective like I'm Tony Hawk or something). Liquorice is the title of a song by this Harlem-born rhyme queen. Now, as I photograph my looks, I usually keep something playing in the background to make the entire self-timer/tripod/chain-smoking experience a little less bleaker than it has to be, considering that I think I've developed a knack for subconsciously choosing the bleakest backdrops. And to combat the bleakness of artificial lighting, I needed some dirty electro-rap. Banks has one song that really pumped me tonight/kept me from losing my mind because everything I kept touching was filthy. Liquorice. And I'm rocking all black. Black liquorice. There, point is made. BLACK LIQUORICE!!! (I hereby e-swear to never take three paragraphs to explain the title of a look ever ever ever again. I'll go back to Lana Del Rey lyrics. I promise.)

I also titled it Lights Out because this look showcases my "Natalia Kills" persona and I really like Natalia Kills. That's about as deep as that goes.

H&M wayfarers, Perry Ellis turtleneck sweater, Prada silk scarf, Zara coat, H&M slacks, Harley-Davidson motorcycle boots

This is a slightly cozier variation of my signature "Matrix" look, swapping out what would generally be a button down with a ultra-thick sweater. Well, cozy for the Fall/Winter months. This was taken just a few weeks ago, so mid-April. So, not so cozy. So, I was dying. Not that I care all that much, fashion over functionality any day of the week.

This is probably my favorite coat. Period. Signed, sealed, delivered. FAVORITE. I got it roughly a year and a half ago, right before Christmas. The silhouette it gives me is essentially what I want to look like in all of my other clothes and the collar, oh my god, the COLLAR. It can pop up, lie flat, I can snap it around my face during a SARS outbreak, etc. SO. MUCH. VERSATILITY!

Something really gets me with wayfarers. I know I over-do the aviators, but my face shape only takes to a few different shapes of sunglasses. If they're too round, I look really chubby, but square-centric shades just make my head look really boxy. As in, like, my hair is a brick. And there's always the eternal problem of having to find a cheap knock-off version of my actual desired pair of shades because I break every pair I buy. Thank you, H&M, for delivering something that shows off my brows and allows me to rock the closest thing to a cat-eye in my comfort zone. Also, who's feeling my laptop reflection in my eyes? TECH ON THE OUTSIDE, TECH ON THE INSIDE!!!

RIGHT??? THE COLLAR. THE COLLAR. Like, I can't even begin. I get to walk out of the house with the confidence that, if secret cyber-agents or whatever (I haven't actually seen the Matrix in years) come after me, I can slow-mo backflip my way into survival and look HAUTE HAUTE HAUTE doing it. Plus, the black is slimming. Let's all pause for a moment and thank our respective omnipresent deities for the color black.

Finally, I wanted to put together something just a smidgen beyond "look at me wearing all black". Keeping my all-black-sans-magenta-scarf look in mind, I went for the only reasonable alternative: all-black-sans-white-scarf. For the past few months, my inner Posh Spice has really been fixated on luxury scarves. We can't lie to ourselves as a community and pretend that seeing a Louis Vuitton monogram on something doesn't give us a certain impression and write off luxury labels as being "overkill" just because we can't afford them. I can't afford them. But you know what I can afford to do? Thrift them. NO SHAME.

Leave me a comment and let me know if you respect me for schlepping to probably the filthiest flight of stairs on the planet to take these pictures for all of you xoxo

ALSO: I reactivated my Formspring, so make sure to ask me lots of really personal questions about all kinds of inappropriate topics because that's TOTALLY okay.

ALSO: did anyone notice the little tweaks I made to my blog? If my previous posts don't really sync up well, I'll just use the excuse that they were part of my "growth period" and fix them someday.