Talk about things and nobody cares
Wearing other things that nobody wears
You’re callin’ my name, but I gotta make it clear
I can’t say, baby, where I’ll be in a year.


Overview/Summary: After one of her best friends goes through a bad breakup she’s not ready to discuss just yet, Riley is dragged along to an impromptu vacation in a tropical paradise. While her and her two friends are there they meet three guys who seem just as lost as they are. 14 days. 10 Rules.
Writer’sNotes: In this AU Farkle was never childhood friends with riley/maya 
Rating: T/M  (Because cursing & also because I’m not going to restrict myself)
WordCount: 3,820


Chapter One: Thou Shall Stick Together

“Remind me again why this is still happening?” Riley called out as she tried to keep up with the fiery blonde ahead of her. She glanced back to make sure her other friend was still relatively close by but the petite golden haired girl was a good 5 feet ahead of them both. “Izzy? A little help here?”

“Hm?” The bespectacled beauty looked up from her phone that seemed to have had captured her attention since their cab ride to the airport. “Oh, isn’t it obvious? She’s trying to avoid Josh.”

“I am not!” Maya snapped, spinning around in one quick motion. “Now would you two shut your traps and walk a little faster before we miss our flight?”

They still had 30 minutes before they had to board the plane. It was obvious to everyone that she was just anxious to get as far away from the city as humanly possible right now.

The two brunettes shared a look before Riley decided to speak what had been on her mind since she told her about the impromptu trip. “Maya, don’t you think it’s too soon?”

“It’s never too soon for a vacation, Riles.” Maya sighs, reluctantly stopping to engage in the conversation she knew she couldn’t avoid for much longer. Especially not with a 10 hour flight ahead of them.


“But nothing.” Maya cuts her off. “Listen, we just graduated. I never thought I’d make it through 4 years of high school, let alone 4 years of College. I just want to go on a nice vacation with my girls. Is that a crime?”

“No. It’s not a crime.” Isadora pauses, “but you still haven’t talked about –”

“Josh?!” The blonde was already bordering on losing her patience. She was tired of everyone always bringing him up and throwing it in her face. She was going to forget about Joshua Matthews whether they liked it or not. “I don’t want to talk about him and you know what else? This is the first time in however long the three of us have been best friends, that we’re all single. At the same damn time, you guys! That’s never happened! Riley, you and Evan just broke up last summer after being together for FOUR YEARS and before that you were with Charlie for FOUR YEARS.” She knew her voice was traveling but she didn’t care at the moment. “And Smackle, you’ve been dating Dustin on and off for like 3 years and me and Josh? 5 years. 5 fucking years down the toilet. So excuse me if I want to have a little fun, okay?”

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In 1984, unbeknownst to Prince, Brown Mark took under his wing a 7 piece rock funk outfit called Mazarati that he had discovered in the Minneapolis clubs. Soon he became essentially a member of the group, regularly jamming with them onstage. Because he worried that Prince would frown upon such extracurricular activities, Brown performed wearing a mask and identified himself onstage as ‘The Shadow.’ I thought he was going to be pissed at me because I had kept it a secret from him,” Brown recalled.

But as this double life became more stressful, Mazarati guitarist Tony Christian urged Brown to let Prince know about the project. “Just tell him,” Christian advised one evening as the 2 musicians were driving around Los Angeles. “The worst he can do is want a piece of it or tell you to stop." 

                                                  - Possessed: the Rise & Fall of Prince

anonymous asked:

Hi Sam, I have recently heard that the usage of paisley can be construed as the appropriation of Persian culture; what are your thoughts on this?

I’m not sure as a white dude I’m a great person to ask their opinion, Anon :D Like, maybe also ask the thoughts of someone from the culture in question, if you haven’t. But I get why you ask, so let’s see. 

I had no idea this was under discussion, but googling, the articles that come up all discuss Paisley as a pattern native to Persia, which spread through southeast Asia and was then appropriated by Western culture when the region was invaded and colonized – it looks as though paisley was popularized in the west via a Victorian craze for paisley as a fetishisation of an invaded culture. So yes it appears that paisley prints in the western world are a direct product of colonial oppression. 

There is a line that falls between cultural appreciation and cultural appropriation that can take some work to discern, but I think it’s worth the effort – for instance, racists will often ask “So I can’t eat Chinese food if I’m white?” which is obviously ludicrous, but why is it ludicrous? Well, because if you’re eating food of a specific culture cooked by people of that culture, you’re supporting them and indirectly supporting their culture. Moreover, the food is being offered for sale by the people whose culture created it, so there’s a voluntary aspect (though this gets into a weird area of cultural coercion, like how sometimes an oppressed group will sell their culture because it’s literally the only way they can make a living, so, tread carefully). 

All of which is why for example it’s not okay for a white person to wear a feathered war bonnet, a signifier of status and a deeply respected honor among Plains tribes, but it’s okay for a white person to buy garments of indigenous American print/design when they are supporting indigenous people. The issue is that all too often a cultural design or object is taken from its setting, stripped of context, exploited by an industry which does nothing to help the culture, and profited from, while the culture itself languishes because its crafters and artisans can’t make sales. 

And while some would argue that paisley, having been appropriated more than a hundred and fifty years ago, is now by some mystical historical force the property of the world, if paisley is a design that was a religious emblem or even a secular touchstone traceable to a specific culture, then yeah – if you’re not of the culture you shouldn’t wear paisley at all if you’re asked not to (viz: war bonnets, though I should add nothing I read said anywhere that you shouldn’t wear paisley as a white person). And even if it’s okay, you should buy paisley in a way that supports textile makers and garment makers from that culture. I am not gonna lie I’m a little shaky on what the region encompassing “Persian” would be, not just geographically but culturally, but it’s obviously something to research if you want to buy paisley. 

And since sweatshop labor and cultural appropriation are both enormous issues in the clothing industry, this is especially important to do this with clothing. Supporting fair-wage, fair-treatment garment manufacture is vital to maintaining or creating good working conditions for all, and it isn’t super difficult if you simply must have paisley; it’s not like it’s a common print anymore in the West except on bandannas and neckties. If you’re that into it that you have to wear it, then you should be willing to support people within the culture that created it. And I would be willing to bet sourcing Persian-made paisley will turn you up some really unique designs. 

So yeah – I mean, I see every reason to support people who are saying that Paisley has been appropriated, and I see a fairly easy way to turn that appropriation into appreciation if that’s permissible. 

The Story of Us

Prologue || 1 || 2 || 3 || 

✮ Chapter Four: Bay Window ✮

Word Count: 3719

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

After catching the bus home that afternoon Riley is ecstatic to find a large parcel on Jed’s doorstop addressed to her.

“My clothes!” Riley exclaims as she scoops up the box and carries it inside. Riley marches right past Jed and upstairs to her room where she excitedly rips open the box. Riley’s face drops when she sees it’s contents. One by one Riley pulls out each item and tosses them to the side. Overalls, a floral jumpsuit, flared denim jeans, a yellow maxi dress, a denim vest, a polka dot dress, a paisley print dress, a skirt, a dress, a dress.

“Ugh,” Riley angrily tosses the box upside down and some coloured converses and sandals fall out. The brunette kicks the pile to the side and decides to call her mother.

“Riley?” Topanga answers, “Finally we hear from you!! How was your first day at school? How are you?”

“Just fantastic.” Riley says sarcastically, “I love that in the middle of high school you’ve sent me 2000 miles away to live with a stranger. I love it here! I never want to come home!”

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Maybe This Time -- Chapter One “Random”

Tom Hiddleston x Plus Size OFC

No real description yet, It is going to be sweet and fluffy for the most part… but you guys know me… that never lasts haha

Chapter One - Random

It was just a random Thursday night. Why do the best things seem to happen on the most random days and the most random times? If it were a scene in a scene in a movie it would have been a rainy night. A chance meeting in a smoky bar or cafe. A sudden spotlight on the perfect girl in slow motion.

It wasn’t a movie though, so it had far less fanfare. It was a clear and quiet night, it was a hole in the wall cabaret in a neighborhood about halfway to being gentrified, and it was just a woman with a voice.

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anonymous asked:

hi auden, what's good to wear for spring? I'm so excited for the cold to pass soon!!

hi anon! i can’t wait for spring to arrive too! u’re in luck, i’ve just bookmarked a few of my fav outfits to wear and those i’ve bolded are the ones i wear on a daily basis

if u’re looking for dresses:

   • paddlepop dress (who doesn’t want to feel like a fairy)

   • blue paisley print dress (vacation anyone?)

   • burgundy off-shoulder maxi dress

if u’re looking for skirts:

   • rose gold pleated skirt (it’s velvet!!)

   • denim button down skirt

if u’re looking for jackets:

   • denim bomber jacket

   • apricot faux fur jacket (ugh so soft)

   • metallic rose bomber jacket

if u’re looking for tops:

    • white lace cold shoulder top

    • green plant embroidered tshirt (for all u plant lovers)

    • water bottle tshirt (h20 is always impt)

i hope this list helps u in putting together ur new outfit!

it starts in the dark dusk of a night worth sleeping through. the boy runs his hands over my neck, callouses bruising my shoulders with a quiet intensity. his face is the devotee of a gentle god. i can still taste him in the back of my throat, sharp and clear like a tungsten sword. he sighs heavily and his weary bones creak like the dust filled house at the end of the road. the wooden floorboards are all cracked and stained. they press into my spine. but he is here, and so everything is okay for a time. 

his voice is a stream, rushing in a barely audible hum to the sea. my hair is the lilac of the hair dye i finally remembered to use, his some shade between blond and brown, a pale muskrat of softness. he stares at me the way some people stare at a bird with bloody feathers, a mix of pity and adoration. it is a heavy burden to know that he loves me. Laurel he begs, waiting for me to stop dissociating, say something. i remain silent and instead mull over the cadence of his voice saying that name. it’s my own, but only halfway. this girl is the girl he fucks in abandoned buildings and kisses in parks. this girl is the girl who calls him babe and leaves lipstick on his collarbone.

 i leave before morning, his lithe body curled up on a couch with a god awful paisley print. it is not hard to extricate myself from his warm tangle of limbs and pulse. people tell me i should be so lucky to hold his heart in my blood covered fingers, but i just feel trapped. he is not the boy i wanted. Evelyn calls almost as soon as i step out of the building, impeccable timing for a girl who strictly adheres to the belief that time is meaningless.

so did you tell him

it takes me a few minutes to formulate a proper answer. i pull off my heels and walk barefoot to the wetlands we called home base. no, i think it might hurt less if we just take off. is Kat in? i know he’s a sweet guy but she knows better than to fall for him, right? this is all temporary, it has to be.

 right. like pulling off a band aid. there, then gone.

yes. if Kat doesn’t come today, consider her done for. bye. the walk to the wetlands is short and bitter in the late may heat. uncharacteristic for this state, and honestly disturbing. Evelyn is there as promised, her winter smile filling me with the kind of warmth i don’t mind. Kat shows pretty quick after that. i was correct in assuming no boy could match this trio. the pink knife girls, some asshole called us once. we loved it, and kept the term alive whenever possible.

how’s your boy?

the meetings always start like that. leading people on has never been more of an art. they fill the void that grows as a result of living in a town that doesn’t move, and we throw enough danger at them to remember us by. the three of us were home enough to run away with: filthy little rich girl, pastel flower princess, tattoo artist’s daughter. others learned quickly that we could have built rome by the audacity in our throats.

the lyrics to minnesota get stuck in our heads while i buy plane tickets on my phone.

how is my boy? the very definition of Orion. and yours?

he doesn’t know it but he could pass for Icarus.

Kat was the kind of girl so good at hiding the ache that you almost thought all her self-inflicted bruises had been dreamed up in an attempt to make her seem more human. turns out pink and blonde can hide a whole lot if your smile is bouncier than a damn prom queen’s. but we saw her for the mark she bore, blessed by hades to join him soon. she was a good girl, stripped down to fishnets and leather every night where only her boy could see. he was nearly intolerable sober but he looked good next to her on sunday mornings. she was sweet, if you liked the kind of sickly nectar that forms when you’re never not high.

the morning he found her body we shattered and threw our luggage into the river. we knew it was an accident. she gets these things sometimes, she’s not fully in control. she downed an entire medicine cabinet to avoid possession. the funeral was supposed to be lovely but Evelyn and i just ran. we got on the flight and never looked back.

in early august the crows led me to a rotting carcass i couldn’t identify. we cleaned the bones in warm water and hydrogen peroxide and didn’t talk about it. 

do you think she’s in hell?

 this was the bloodletting summer, letting go of all the life we had too much of. no more boys and no more bruises. a girl, a poet, a corpse.

we could jump into the pulsing river after her and find out

yes, we could

I know that the “hippy college Fiddleford” hc doesn’t have a whole lotta canon to back it up but like even if Alex Hirsch descended from the mount Olympus of tv show creating and took a sledge hammer to that idea I would refuse to relinquish it because it gives us such treasures as:

-long-haired fiddleford

-which also gives way to “ponytail fiddleford” which is also great

-“drives a beat up VW Van with flowers and a wizard and some robots on the side probably” Fiddleford

-fiddleford doing weed all throughout college (is he also chewing tabacco during college? Likely. That is bad for your teeth)

-“sandals and bare feet” fiddleford

-“ironic but not really ironic 70s overalls” Fiddleford (that was a thing apparently)

-“tie dye shirt” fiddleford

-“horrible paisley and flower-print buttons ups with giant collars (maybe + ascots)” fiddleford (which is pm canon so yeah)

-“ironic but not really ironic terrible fashion in general” Fiddleford

-fiddleford writing banjo songs about how much he hates the government and preforming them for his hippy friends

-fiddleford going to protests a lot and being passionate about current events and politics

-“anti-authoritarian and anti-violence but full of snark and still willing to build giant death robots” Fiddleford

-the lava lamp collection thing that no one else seems to fully appreciate

-those weird bead doorway things that ford hates but fidds put them over like every doorway

-fiddleford owning a shitton of rainbow stuff

-fiddleford knitting and doing macramé (I’m taking this headcanon to my fucking grave, fite me)

-fiddleford making his friends and loved ones knitted items, including and especially ford, who receives an abundance of them

-Fiddleford also gives ford a giant macramé owl which is utterly useless but he keeps it anyway

-fiddleford picking up knitting and macramé again as an old man and him and Mabel becoming crafting buddies

(There’s more but I’m tired and I can’t think of anything else lol lets just say this hc is a goldmine)


An early Jeanne Lanvin couture grey-green satin afternoon dress, 1913 

With narrow yellow on ivory label to the broad waist stay, with rouleaux band defining the raised waistline, the sleeves, neck edging and side panels of paisley printed and woven kashmir wool densely over-embroidered in coloured silks and metal threads and couched silk cords, silver thread covered bauble buttons, embroidered and lead weighted hem.

anonymous asked:

what are some of your favourite thrifted / vintage outfit? i love your style so much😍😍

hello, thank u!! i got most of my outfits from thrift shops in SG, and some of my favourite vintage ones are floral tops, high waist jeans and rompers. i’ve curated a list of outfits similar to the ones i have so u can get a sense of my style. best part is all of them are below $20!!

floral lace-up romper with faux leather sandals

“Girl Power” rose tee & strappy denim skirt

vintage floral tank top (fav!!) with silver long skirt

stripped tee with heart embroidery with vintage specs 

white floral lace tee goes with checkered tie skirt

denim paperbag shorts + pink bulldog tee

tropical print cami & paisley printed boho pants

i hope these suggestions can help u put together a perfect vintage outfit!


Usually I don’t find these interesting ways of putting different prints together.  I have a friend who normally serves as my “Does this look even vaguely socially acceptable?” consultant for clothing(1) who had told me in general not to mix one print with another.  She says that, usually, by the sort of people I’m trying not to stand out around, that’s considered clashing.  I used to argue with her about it, especially if the colors were definitely not clashing, but she said there’s more than one way to clash and until and unless I get the hang of it, I shouldn’t try to mix prints.

But it’s the weekend, I’m not planning to go anywhere, and plus this happened by accident.  I needed to take my jeans off for the wash, very quickly, and this skirt was the closest item of clothing to me that had the right buttons for use with my suspenders.  It was only when I saw myself in the mirror later that I realized I love the combination of patterns between my shirt and my skirt here. And even my socks fit in somehow.

Oh and a note about the socks:  Yes, they actually came with “I’m a delicate fucking flower” written  on them.  Here is the Amazon page I ordered them from.  I needed some lightweight socks for the warmer weather and these were perfect. They have a brightly colored floral design around the words.  The words can usually be covered up by the top of your trousers or skirt depending on which you’re wearing and how long they are.  There’s another pair of socks that’s similar that I want to get someday, that says “CATS CATS CATS CATS CATS” all over it with little pictures of cats, in a color scheme similar to colors I wear all the time.

Anyway, this accidental combination of (brown with yellow and white flowers) shirt and (blue-green with brown paisley flower print with some yellow) skirt  turned out to really go surprisingly well together – to my eyes.  And my eyes are actually all that matters, given that it’s a weekend and I don’t plan on seeing medical professionals.

And the socks?  Literally everyone I let see the words, loves them and tells me they’re perfect for me.  (I thought so too, that’s why I got them.)  Including people who otherwise never take any interest in what I wear.

(1) You may not think I need one.  But when you go to doctors a lot, and you’ve learned that they make snap judgements on you based on what you wear, and your life depends on them not judging you in certain ways, and you have no innate sense of what other people think “goes together” (and a million other things about fashion), you learn to listen to such people.


I wanted to try more plushie style ACNL villagers using fabric patterns, and I’d had the idea of making a paisley print horse rolling around my head for awhile, and I wanted to see if I could make it happen. I tried quite a few different color variations, but it seemed like these colors showed up best in-game. I may keep experimenting, but for now, here’s Paisley the plush horse.

Psychedelic long dresses, Mademoiselle Magazine 1967.
Three models stand close together wearing brightly colored maxi dresses; from left to right: sleeveless dress with swirl pattern in green, orange, red and black by Fifth Avenue Robes; a long sleeve dress with paisley print in pink, purple and red by Chezelle; and a kimono-style dress with floral print in green, yellow, purple and white by Gigette. Photo by Didier Dorot