over priced clothing

anonymous asked:

opinion on supreme

over priced clothing thats not even that great of quality, no thanks, I’ll stick to wearing gucci and polo since those are actually well made and are priced according to how well they are made

I miss “George Bush doesn’t care about Black people” Kanye.

Now we just have weird misogynist Kanye who won’t get over his fixation on women being good girls or bitches and who makes ugly over-priced clothes.

It makes me so fucking mad that people get so salty over the price of dans clothes. like why do you care? don’t you think it’s kind of rude putting the price of someone’s clothes all over the internet? it’s pretty unnecessary. what dan wears literally does not affect you at all so stop stop getting so damn worked up over it. if dan can afford clothes of that price and he feels confident while wearing them, then why shouldn’t he be allowed to buy them. it’s his money and he can spend it however he wants- if you have a problem with the way he does then fucking get over it.

about to play a game i like to call ‘let’s try on over priced clothing and then go find the exact same items in primark for half the cost’

anonymous asked:

if you don't care about kanye as a person much you should watch some of his interviews. he's the reason many people believe in themselves.

I have that’s why I don’t. I used to love him. I think he is fraud.
He doesn’t mean what he says, he’s a greedy pig.
Hypnotizing young kids to look up to him.
If he’s so pro-black why does he only date white skinned women?
If he’s all about helping people who don’t have money, why are his shoes 1500 dollars!
If he respects women so much, why did he dawg so hard on Amber,when kim is no better?
He’s just trying to make a cult with all this yeezus bullshit trying to change the world blah blah blah he’s phony and a douche bag!
“Beyoncé is inspired by Kim” who even says that? Fucking disgusting! Funny he went on stage and interrupted Taylor’s speech because of Beyoncé and then says she’s inspired by Kim? Who has 20 Grammys and who has none?
He didn’t even listen to beck and still talked bad about him winning album of the year!? Like gross he’s so arrogant! You’re better off liking Justin Bieber then him !!! He thinks he’s better then everyone !!why do you think kid cudi doesn’t even fuck with him anymore? Read what cudi said about creepers how he didn’t even want that with him? And kid cudi is the realist mother fucking famous rapper! You guys all buy into what these celebrities say and preach, but a lot of it is bullshit! You have to be logical! Like a man with so much money and power if he wanted to make a difference he could?
Look at Angelina Jolie…. All the work she does in the Middle East and is lowkey about it….
That’s making a change!
Not having an over priced clothing brand, and buying new cars and clothes for the paparazzi.
Marrying a Kardashian to be more famous. He’s fraud

anonymous asked:

Stop making your parents waste money on drugs. It's disgusting. I think you need to grow up. Get a job, so you can support your own nasty habit. I'd love it if mommy and daddy could pay for all my tatts, weed, and over priced clothes. But I guess we can't all be spoiled bitches, eh?

lolololololol wooooow. ok im just gonna walk you through all the things youre wrong about now.

1, my parents are recent recovering drug addicts (heroin, methadone) of like 15 years (my entire life)(been clean for approx 1 year) in other words we never even had money for rent let alone to spoil me, and theyre literally just getting to the point where theyve gotten pretty good at standing on their own 2 feet, but yet they totally have money to spoil the fuck out of me. not

2, i dont even live with my rents, havent for about a year and a half now. 

3, i payed for my own damn tattoos all by myself, I have a friend that does all mine

4, i have a job. have had the same one for over a year now, trust me I can supply my own bud

5, my clothes are everything but expensive, i pretty much live on the clearance racks and in thrift stores, thats just my thing.

so yea, please tell me more false information about myself. i may be spoiled but if i am it’s by one person, me. and I have no problem with spoiling myself after working all week. 

On Friday I texted Ben: “can you come meet me after work? Let’s walk somewhere. I just can’t get on the subway.”

He met me and we started walking north. We stopped in an over-priced clothing store that mostly doesn’t sell clothes in my size and I pretended to look around and they offered us champagne. I told Ben I needed a dress for my birthday party. I didn’t tell him that finding clothes that make me feel happy and pretty seems like a hopeless endeavor these days. We clinked our plastic cups, downed them, and walked out. It was already growing dark.

We walked up to Union Square, to The Strand where I hunted through the $1 shelves on the street for hidden treasures. Ben went across the street for a steaming cup of tea and then bought something in Spanish with a typewriter on the cover. I bought a very old copy of Crime and Punishment with a falling-apart binding because I liked the way it looked, and a stack of other things. 

We walked to the movie theater but there was nothing good playing. We walked through Greenwich Village and the East Village, where everyone is young, even younger than we are, and the bars are loud and crowded. Everywhere music, everywhere girls dressed up and nervous on their way to a party. I felt old. I felt tired and frumpy and relieved not to be them. I held Ben’s hand and we wandered into another used bookstore. 

I bought some beat up paperbacks. No, I didn’t have cash so Ben bought them for me. We poked our noses in a restaurant here or there, but ruled them out for various reasons. Too crowded, too expensive, too charmless. We ended up in the window seat of the tiniest taqueria. Not a lovely view – just a dirty sidewalk, and the steel cellar doors spread open. But it was our unlovely view and I felt quite lucky to have it. I took my books out of their bags and laid them on the table one by one for our inspection. How perfect, how content I felt to buy books and eat guacamole and tell Ben about everyone who had wronged me that day. 

It’s strange, to love the city like this, without buzz or excitement. To love it like an old lover, comfortably, calmly. To move about the city, not flit, not skip, not feel drunk on it. Just to see it, eye to eye, to meet its gaze with a steady appreciation, maybe almost imperceptibly swinging a bag of books in each hand.