selling-dress

how to do prom on a budget

Because not everyone can afford to spend a ridiculous amount of money on one high school dance, but that absolutely does not mean that you can’t enjoy your evening to the fullest. 

  • Your prom dress definitely does not have to cost several hundred dollars. Amazon.com has some really nice formal dresses, and most of them are in the $50-100 range! (I know there are other websites specifically for discount prom dresses, but in my experience Amazon has better quality and lower prices. Plus prime shipping can be a lifesaver if you’re in a rush.)
  • And if fifty bucks is still out of your price range (and I know that it is for a lot of people), check your local thrift stores. Second-hand prom dresses sell for a fraction of their original price, and they’ve usually only been worn once or twice. Seriously, I got my first prom dress at a thrift store; it was a very pretty, very well-made dress, and I payed $15 for it. Check. Thrift. Stores. 
  • Or, if you just don’t like second-hand clothes or if you couldn’t find anything good in the thrift stores, check Ross or a similar store. (Ross is just what we have in my hometown.) They usually stock some formal dresses around prom season, and they’re almost all in the $20-30 range. I’ve gone to formal events in dresses from Ross before, and they hold up really well and look great in pictures.
  • All of the stores I just mentioned are also really good places to get shoes, jewelry, ect. to go with your dress. Even stores like Walmart and Target might be good places to look for shoes, bags, and other accessories. And definitely check your own wardrobe – you might already own stuff that will look good with your dress. (I’ve worn the same pair of heels to, like, three different proms at this point tbh.) 
  • Get a dress that fits you well without alterations. Seriously, tailors are so pricey – you’ll probably end up paying several times more for alterations than you did for the dress itself. You’ll save yourself a lot of money if you just buy a dress that already fits and looks good. 
  • Do your own hair and makeup. There are approximately two billion “prom hair and makeup” tutorials on YouTube – find one that you like and practice it a couple of times before the big night. 
  • And if you aren’t confident enough to do it yourself, call in a friend for help. I’m totally useless when it comes to hair, but my best friend is a hair genius. We would always get ready for dances together, and we’d do a trade-off; she’d do my hair for me, and I’d help her with her makeup, and then we’d both go to the dance looking amazing. It’s a good system, and makes getting ready a lot more fun.
  • Or, if you don’t want to do your own makeup and don’t have a friend you can ask, a lot of department stores that have makeup counters (Macy’s, Belk, ect.) will do free makeovers, even if you don’t buy any of the products! I had a friend in high school who always got her makeup done at Belk for school dances. I don’t like trusting a stranger to do my makeup, but it is an option if you want to get it done professionally without spending a lot of money. (MAC and Sephora both do “free” makeovers, but only if you make a $50 purchase first, so probably not the best option if you’re trying to save money. Always make sure that the makeover service really is free before you sit down in the makeup chair.)
  • Also, you absolutely do not have to wear dramatic makeup or complicated hairstyles to prom if you don’t want to. If bold makeup isn’t your thing, you can just do mascara and a little bit of lip gloss. If you don’t want to spend two hours on your hair, just wear it down, or pin it up in a really simple bun, or whatever works for you. You don’t even have to wear a dress if you don’t want to – if renting a tux is more your speed, then rent a tux. Feeling comfortable and confident in how you look is more important than following trends. 

The Oddly Satisfying World of Slime with @slimeysugar

To see more of Megan’s slimes, follow @slimeysugar on Instagram.

Borax, cornstarch, detergent — these are the everyday household ingredients that Megan Li (@slimeysugar) uses to make her slimes. “Borax has the best texture, and doesn’t melt,” says Megan, a 14-year-old California student who began making slime when she discovered the trend online. She now sells her colorful slimes — dressed up with glitter and Styrofoam pellets and given names like Confetti Beads, Strawberry Fondue and Watermelon Crunch — to slime fans all over the world.

“I like making slime because of the texture,” says Megan, “but the sound is a huge reason why I do it.” Watch a slime video, and you’ll understand why — slimes make oddly satisfying gooey noises, which cements their status as a favorite among the ASMR (Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response) community—those who have a sensory reaction to certain sounds.

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MINOR MERLIN UPDATE::::

going to hospital with little Merlin today, he stays overnight for checks tomorrow morning and we pick him up later that day.
Costs are nearly covered, but as you know, any little dollar helps. OR you can check my Facebook for my sale post and support merlin that way!?

You can clearly see just HOW BIG that whole in his head is, it wasn’t so clear when it was all swollen and bloody, but now you can see it’s really big. It also feels very deep. The doctor agreed that it was deep, when he was first seen last week. They will now analyse if his head is otherwise injured and check his behaviour as well (nothing seemed to be broken). Fingers crossed his brain is ok besides the major concussion, I knew a friends cat that got really psychotic after falling from a window. I don’t want Merlin to live that way ;__;

my sale-post is here:
www . Facebook. com /fahrlightloki /posts/ 1580430858697366

we are missing around 89pound of the fee for todays/tomorrows check, and I still try to sell dresses, but I only managed to sell one so far and the other buyer for a second dress just flaked on me -_-.


Please help - please help :
PayPal “for Merlin”
Galadraeluk@yahoo.co.uk <<<<- please, I don’t know what to do. He is in so much pain. IF YOU CAN’T DONATE, PLEASE SPREAD! 

My cat was assaulted in connection with a reported hate crime! Please help us save him. His injury could be from that rock/hammer/screwdriver the thugs talked about! 

(He was abused because I helped gay neighbours who were harassed by homophobic teens and they decides to harass me too and tried to break my windows. they are several times reported to the police by now, but nothing happened to solve it so far.)

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Pick a street corner in downtown Hamtramck, Mich., and you’ll be struck by the incredible mix of cultures crammed into this tiny, 2-square-mile city.

A Catholic church across the street from a mosque. Polish pastry shops, sausage factories, and grocery stores promising “the best Polish food, shipping to Eastern Europe,” side by side with Bengali clothing shops that sell richly embroidered dresses and headscarves. And you’d be remiss if you didn’t stop in the many Yemeni restaurants serving fragrant lamb and discs of flatbread the size of hubcaps.

What has united all of the immigrant groups who’ve come to Hamtramck? Good jobs in the auto industry. Hamtramck is surrounded by Detroit, and for decades, car manufacturing was its lifeblood.

Hamtramck, Michigan: An Evolving City Of Immigrants

Photos by Elissa Nadworny/NPR

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DRESS: unbranded - Discount purchase at DollyCute ! 🍓🍌
BELT: Pinup Girl Clothing
BAG: Betsey Johnson
SHOES: B.a.i.t 
________________________________

Showing off my new Betsey Johnson ice cream purse I got on sale!
I’ll be selling this same dress on DollyCute, it’s adorable but I definitely grew out of it (so much button gaping!). 🍒🍒🍒

Not too much going on aside from lots of band practice & being behind on things. I’m really excited/nervous I’m going to LA in a week though! I have to pack a lot & let’s just say I’m not the best at that haha. New video this week…if all goes well! 

**REMINDER my giveaway for a cute designer watch from Jord is over on June! Please enter ;) Why not? I’ve been entering contests like crazy lately!
Link is on my instagram profile & in my last blog post!**

________________________________

Instagram: @RandiNicholeJoan Twitter: @ItsRandiJoan
Facebook: @RandiNicholeJoan Youtube: Randi Joan
♡SHOP: DollyCute (Tumblr)  DollyCuteVintage (eBay/Etsy)
Depop: @RandiNicholeJoan

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Guys, I am selling some of my costumes! If you want to buy them, then send me an email and I will create a corresponding item on Etsy!

1. Anna’s coronation dress with wig and necklace, 450$ (only a week!)
2. Princess Anastasia’s costume, 150$.
3. The little red riding hood’s costume from “Into the woods”, 250$ (+lace front wig - 300$)
4. Any of simple Star Butterfly’s dress, 150$ for dress and tights. I
sew a suit according to your measurements for a week and a half. I can sell the green dress right now! 

If you have any questions, please send me an email - benzoateost@yandex.ru

HOPE TO HAVE YOUR REPOSTS! <3

Nixon Paper Dress

c.1968

Paper clothes were a short-lived fad that lasted from 1966 to 1968. The Scott Paper Company introduced the first paper dress in 1966 as a promotional item and sold about 500,000 dresses. The success of the dresses was so phenomenal that many other companies started making them. The disposable dresses came in four sizes, and alterations and repairs were made with transparent tape. The hem could be adjusted simply with a pair of scissors.

A symbol of the throwaway culture of the ‘60s, paper dresses were marketed for mass consumption and were available in numerous styles and prints. By 1967, major department stores such as I. Magnin &amp; Co, Lord &amp; Taylor, and Altman’s, were selling them.

Many of the dresses were printed in geometric, abstract motifs inspired by the Op art, Conceptual art and Pop art movements. Paper dresses unified art and fashion as they became part of the developing popular culture of the 1960s.

This A-line dress is constructed from four layers of very thin tissue-like paper bonded by pressure. All paper dresses were treated with fire-resistant chemicals and were not to be washed or dry cleaned, which would have made them flammable.

Indianapolis Museum of Art

The Gold Dress

Originally posted by ohskyefelicity

We found out yesterday from an old interview with Emily Bett Rickards that Oliver actually bought Felicity the gold dress Felicity wore in the Dodger episode. This is a little fic, Pretty Woman style, on how that came to be. It’s from Felicity’s point of view. On AO3 if you prefer.


“So we are all set for tonight right? I’ll get the jewelry piece and make sure it’s delivered to the auction and you and Digg will meet me there.” Oliver looked down at Felicity who sat in her chair in front of the computers.


“Right, except I’ll monitor things from here. You and Digg will be onsite.” Felicity turned back to her computers.


“No, I want you there.” Oliver stated firmly. “We need to track if the Dodger takes the bait and it would be better if you were on site.”


“I can do my job just fine from here.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “You will have comms, it will be fine.”


“Felicity what aren’t you telling me? Why don’t you want to go?” He looked at her with such concern.

Keep reading

Judith is walking briskly down the sidewalk, an abomination of a dress folded over her arm, when she sees the man about to destroy the world and the man about to save it.

People would say that Judith can see the future. She’d laugh if she heard it (to hear it, she’d have to tell them), because it’s not like that at all. She’s yet to find a future that’s come true a hundred percent no has she seen something that’s unstoppable.

They’re like threads. Hundreds and thousands of pale, fragile threads arcing out of people towards future destinations, future mistakes, future successes. Some are thicker than others but that doesn’t mean they’re more likely. Instead it means that there’ll be more people involved, a party, a get together, something like that. Maybe they’ll hire ten more people at work or maybe they’ll be going to a funeral soon.

She’s gotten so used to the spiderweb of futures she sees, she barely registers them anymore. She just walks down the street registering baby shower, shoe repair, flat tire, anniversary, trips on way to school, breaks a dish, etc.

She’s doing that today, in fact, right now in the present. She’s going dress shopping for her sister’s wedding (not the bridesmaid, she dodged that one). The colors are grey and silver and hardly any shop sells a dress like that so she’s had to go into the city.

Judith is walking briskly down the sidewalk, an abomination of a dress folded over her arm, when she sees the man about to destroy the world and the man about to save it.

Keep reading

UPDATE ON MERLIN!!!!!!!!
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
He is home with me now, getting cuddles and rest and treats. The hospital said they are invoicing me for the amount I gotta pay (it will most likely bounce back, but they don’t know that, yet)…

So far the costs are:
Emergency over night 250pound (PAID thanks to your donations!)
Transfer to animal hospital and stay for the day 150 pound (PAID thanks to your donations an a little money I had left!)
Checks on his head and scans overall plus meds (antibiotics and painkillers) to take home 450 (NOT paid)
Aftercare check in five days 150 pound (NOT paid)
And one more check after that, price unknown, but should be small only with a meds top-up, so I think around 50 pound or so (NOT paid)

Thank you, to everyone who donated and shared and thought of my little fighter ! ❤ You are the reason he is ok now, and I am forever grateful and I honestly love you so much!

I’m selling dresses and stuff, please mail me about it! THANK YOU!

Real question: Is anyone out there still waiting for Ivanka Trump to come through?

A real advocate for women’s power and prosperity would be devastated by President Trump’s decision to end the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, which will shatter the lives of hundreds of thousands of immigrant women and the people who depend on them. A real advocate for women’s autonomy would fight indefatigably for affordable health care and abortion access. A real advocate for women would care about gay women, trans women, black women, Muslim women, Jewish women and all the other women being dehumanized and imperiled by Trumpism’s fetish for calamity. If you are helping only certain women, then you do not actually care about women.

Ivanka Trump is never going to come through. Coming through isn’t her function. She is more a logo than a person, a scarecrow stuffed with branding, an heiress-turned-model-turned-multimillionaire’s-wife playacting as an authority on the challenges facing working women so that she can sell more pastel sheath dresses.

The word of a Trump isn’t worth very much.

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Selling my personal Meg dress: $300 including USA shipping.

Bust 34, Waist 28, Hips 36, Height 5'4" - some size alterations possible!

Worn once for DragonCon. Hand pleated all across the top and stomach panels. Hidden zipper. Silk and pleated cotton. Very comfy, but also sexiest I’ve ever felt in a cosplay! Will include matching hair band.

PM for purchase inquiries. (Posting date: Feb 21, 2017)

Let Me Warm Your Heart Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3| Part 4| Part 5

Word count: 2017

Summary: Credence misses a certain kind lady. But he meets an unexpected visitor instead. All is not what it seems and even though life tends to be rough at times, every cloud has a silver lining.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence and blood.

Disclaimer: GIF Credits to their owners. Also I don’t own the FBAWTFT universe. Queen JKR does.


Credence searched through the gathering crowd. His heart plummeted into the melancholic depths of disappointment as the lady with the kind smile failed to turn up at yet another NSPS meet. He reminisced how her face lit up with a smile, how unlike others she had apologised and with kindness radiating from every gesture, helped him gather the scattered flyers (even though it was probably his fault that they fell in the first place). It was far too rare for people to deem him worthy to bestow kindness upon. It was more often than not a case of shoved bodies, rough touches and muttered insults. Not pretty smiles and an overwhelming softness of the heart.


Credence couldn’t help but feel sadness clutching him in its cold grasp, he really shouldn’t have gotten his hopes high. After all, it was highly unlikely that she had the free time to attend all of the rallies. She had indeed said that she had work to rush off to the other day. A hopeful part of him wished that it was just that, a busy schedule which kept her from coming back. But then again, she might have completely forgotten him. Who would remember a lowly, wicked boy like him? And if at all she did remember him, it would be with disgust at his uselessness, disappointed with anything he did. The way Ma was.


Credence sneaked a glance at his adoptive mother as she went on about the malignant virus of witchcraft that was fast spreading amongst the unaware and naive naysayers. She urged the people to be proactive and join the cause, they had safety in numbers. It was the vigilant who could save themselves after all. He thought that if he repeated the propaganda enough times, he might even start believing it. It was not that Credence disbelieved that people like witches and magic existed. He knew that his biological mother was wicked, that her blood was tainted, the same blood that ran through his veins. He had heard about it numerous times over the span of his childhood, receiving divine punishment at the hands of his Ma in a bid to loosen Satan’s hold over him. Such instances though, had become rarer as the years passed. The punishments hadn’t stopped, just the reasons had changed.


His hand felt a ghostly sting and Credence flinched, remembering the latest disciplining. His barely healed hands clutched the flyers tightly as the memory of a few weeks back washed his subconscious. Ma had been so angry with him when she had seen him idling around the back instead of handing out more flyers like he was supposed to. He had just found the crowd oppressive and decided to get a few breaths of clean air, a brief respite from the heat. That was when she had stumbled across his feet, not hard enough to cause him discomfort, but enough to make her presence known. He had expected harsh words, an angry shove or complete unapologetic indifference even. Because that was how he was used to being treated. Instead like an angel shining her heavenly aura on lesser mortals, she had come to his aid. Being the worthless being that he was, he’d somehow managed to become a stuttering dimwit, rendered dumb by her kindness and beauty. This was an exchange that hadn’t escaped the watchful eyes of his mother, though thankfully she hadn’t seen who it was that he was speaking to.


No amount of pleading would dissuade her from meting out what he rightfully deserved. It was just a matter of time and it came when they reached the rundown excuse of a church that they called their house. The moment the door to the living room closed, he silently slid off the belt from its place, grasping the buckle in the hope that the ordeal would end faster if he willed it to. Just thinking of the belting had his hands smarting in remembrance of the vicious hits. Ma had been especially angry that day.


“Hello there, young man. Won’t you give me one of those flyers?” An elderly woman broke Credence out of his reverie, a wrinkled hand outstretched towards him seeking a purple handout. Her eyes crinkled as she gave him a benevolent smile. She looked of Asian heritage, probably Japanese judging from the pastel kimono that draped her delicate frame; with her soft demeanour and quite mannerisms, she faintly reminded Credence of summers spent lying in the warmth of his birth mother’s lap, but it was a fleeting thing, this barely remembered memory.


Though he had been expecting quite a different interruption, even this was welcome. After all, it was not everyday that people treated him with such gentleness. As if reading his mind, the old woman queried, “Were you perhaps expecting someone else?” Pink dusted his cheeks as Credence replied in embarrassment, “N-no!” It came out louder than he had intended. Glancing at his mother to make sure that her attention was focused elsewhere, he quietly mumbled, “ I meant…no. That is not the…case.” His speech was marked by ponderous pauses, as if mulling over what would be appropriate enough to voice out loud.


The old woman merely nodded in understanding, though what she comprehended from his mumbles and pauses, Credence could only wonder. They stood in comfortable silence for a while before the woman spoke again, “What is your name child?” He jerked as if virtually slapped and something skittered in the woman’s eyes but it was gone before he could really observe. “C-credence.” He spoke so softly that it was a wonder that the woman had heard anything at all. But her serene smile indicated that she indeed had heard him. “You have a beautiful name”, she complemented him, making him blush again. As the rally broke up with the end address from his mother, the elderly lady stared up in the sky as if thinking about something before saying, “I better get going now. Hope you have a good day son!” her eyes twinkled and Credence couldn’t help but be gripped by a weird sense of deja vu,feeling as if he had met the woman somewhere before.


                                          
Y/N laid down her quill with a sense of satisfaction as the last report was written, bringing her paperwork to completion. Standing up, she stretched her muscles before waving her wand to summon her coat. Capping off another day at work, she stumbled out of the inconspicuous gates of MACUSA, weary and bone tired but happy at the pace of things. She started walking at a leisurely pace, setting off towards her apartment idly wondering about what she should have for dinner. Today felt like a sushi day.                



Tasked with scouting for a new place to conduct the next meeting, Credence walked the bustling streets of New York City. He had been walking for well over an hour and twilight had set in by the time he truly found anything of use. Before his eyes lay a dusty playground, more derelict than green. It was not exactly spic and span but with some cleaning, it would do. Credence looked at the playground which was sandwiched between a confectionery and a chic boutique selling trendy flapper dresses which seemed all the rage these days. Yes, this would do. He was just about to venture a bit further inside to give a last cursory glance to the venue when he stumbled across an empty glass bottle.


Landing hard on the dusty pavement with his hands outstretched to break the fall, a hiss escaped Credence. The fall tore anew his barely healed palms. Cradling them close to himself, he took a closer look at the demon that had devised his fall. Was that a beer bottle that he spied? “Oi, who goes there?” A gruff voice enquired from the depths of the dimly lit playground. Fear grabbed Credence as he stared at the questioner. Three men, drunkards by the look of them, appeared from the murky shadows. A pudgy faced man, with a pronounced limp approached him followed by a stockily built man and a towering youth with a face attacked by the most vicious case of acne Credence had ever seen.


“Looky what we ‘ave ‘ere eh? A pup, wet behind ‘em ears!” The towering youth chuckled nastily, showcasing yellowing teeth much to the amusement and hollering of the other two. He had a surprisingly gravelly rasp. Probably a result of excessive smoking judging by the cigarette clutched in his blackened fingers. “Ya think ya can just come here an’ bust upon us, pup?” The stocky man’s words would have been intimidating had they not been uttered in the squeakiest voice ever heard. All this would have been an excellent backdrop for a comedy show and Credence might have even found it funny had he not been in the midst of it. “Answer da question. What ya doing ‘ere, punk!” pudgy face bent down for emphasis , getting too close for comfort, spittle spraying everywhere and his body reeking of alcohol, rancid sweat and something more unpleasant best not named.


Credence could barely manage a frightened whimper as hot tears ran down his cheeks. It was one thing to be belted by Ma for his actions. He deserved that, after all, it was meant for his own good, wasn’t it? But what had he done to deserve this? He cowered as pudge face yanked him by the collar of his shirt, drunken vigour easily lending him the strength to haul the frail boy up. “The cowardly brat’s snivellin’ like a damned 2 year old, if I ever seen one. What ya boys say we beat some sense inta him?” Credence felt a tightness blossom in his ribs, pressing down on his chest making it difficult to breath. His sight became hazy and all he could think of was the world of pain, broken bones and smashed teeth that was awaiting him. He saw the raised fist and closed his eyes, as the tightness in his ribs grew, threatening to burst him at the seams. Any moment now, he would be beaten into pulp.


Suddenly, the air rang out with a shrill alarm, a siren similar to those of police vans. “Shit! Why’s the police here?” the squeaky voiced man called out and Credence snapped his eyes open. Pudgy face shoved him away as the three bustled out of the playground, scampering ahead of one another, beer bottles scattered in their wake. Shaking violently at the near beating, Credence curled up into a ball and couldn’t help but continue crying as the siren grew louder and his mind went into overdrive. The police would find him and take him in for questioning. There were empty beer bottles here, he had obviously been up to no good, they would think. Wait, if the police took him up for questioning, his Ma would know. Dread latched onto him, pooling into an acidic swirl at the pit of his stomach. Oh what would she say? The mere idea of her wrath sent him on the edge of a panic attack.


Credence barely noticed when the siren stopped, for the ringing in his ears only continued to grow louder with every passing second. He was going to be arrested!! Someone was calling out to him, asking him if he was okay, but the world was a cacophony of white noise. They crouched beside him and attempted to pull his body upright. Resisting the movement, he flailed on the ground muttering incoherently throughout. Suddenly, his face was grabbed by a gentle touch and Credence found himself staring in the most mesmerising pair of (Y/E/C) eyes he had ever seen. “It’s okay love, they are gone. You are safe now. Nothing will harm you…I won’t let anything harm you!” His body gave a violent shudder. Letting out a choked sob, he fell into the soft embrace of the kind woman for whom he had been waiting for so long at the rallies. His angel had finally come to his rescue.



A/N: Ahh the time for the fated meeting has finally arrived! Writing this chapter through Credence’s P.O.V. was super fun as well as a bit anxiety inducing. I was constantly worried whether I was portraying him correctly.Just some trivia, the first sushi shop in the U.S. reportedly opened in 1906 in the Little Tokyo neighbourhood of LA apparently. I actually went and researched this on the net and Wikipedia threw this up on “the history of sushi”. Well, now that my nerd curiosity and obsessive authenticity mania has been satiated; addressing another twist- a mysterious old woman (Oba-san, if we are getting technical here) has appeared!! I wonder who she could be? 😉 Please excuse any typos that may have crept in. Thank you dear readers for the overwhelming love that you are showering on this story! Stay tuned for the next chapter and let me know how you all found this! ~mystical reading nerd

a note for fashion website creators: please. please. you are trying to sell me the dress. you are charging 10,000+ dollars for this dress. please. take a picture of someone smiling while wearing the dress. give it decent lighting. just…don’t use a photo taken at a runway event. runway models are essentially mannequins that walk around; your customers, however, are not mannequins that walk around. take a good looking photo. i know you can because you do and it’s really jarring to see “smiling woman in studio wearing dress” surrounding “runway model”

also, that’s a hideous dress. what the fuck were you thinking.

It’s national selfie day apparently. I love this dress. It was handmade to my measurements. My friend has a friend who lives in Malawi and she and the women she works with at an orphanage were selling these dresses as a fundraiser. I wish I would’ve purchased a couple more as there were many fabric options available.