she has a lot of pantsuits

THIS IS AMERICA, some bro shouts from the balcony of his
white-pillared frat house.
Other bros toss a Frisbee on the quad.
Someone’s chugging something. Motherfucking America.
The one with the Frisbee is 23. Next week he’ll be welcomed
to the 42nd story of a Manhattan skyscraper. He’ll get a desk because his father has a nameplate. He may have worked his ass off since his mom let go of his sticky hand outside of kindergarten, but so have a lot of people.
Not everyone’s dads have an office door in New York.
He’s flirting with a girl who’s 22 and looking at pantsuits on her phone. She’s swallowing miles
of black cloth for the sake of an internship in D.C.,
which had better—it had just better—
land her with a career. ‘I’m interested in politics,’ she’s told countless relatives at countless holiday parties. They all smile.
She has the same smile; she’s practiced in a mirror.
It is a very even smile. White teeth,
pink lips.
Pantsuits are silly, she tells the boy,
who’ll be wearing them for the rest of his life. But they look better
on him, they both admit. He gets to wear a tie, that might explain it.
He says something nice about her hair. She steals his Frisbee.
Tomorrow is officially summer;
tomorrow is the last first day of summer they’ll ever have quite this way.
May June July August will never be the same again. Neither of them is thinking like that.
‘You can’t think like that,’ somebody says drunkenly the night before they all graduate. YOU CAN’T THINK LIKE THAT
but some of them are, standing in black robes and flat hats. This is
a very unstylish way to enter adulthood. As if they have not been adults before this moment;
as if they are adults after it. “That is an expensive piece of paper,”
a woman says as she measures the diploma for a frame,
“what’re you doing with it?”
PROVING MY ADULTHOOD. Gathering debt like wildflowers,
the bank loves me the bank loves me not, plucking job opportunities into thin air. Cubicle living is just around the corner;
cubicle living
is preferable to unemployment. Preferable to becoming the fist
in that long-running joke: English majors supersizing fries;
art majors lining leaves in frothed milk. Take what you can get.
But what if what you can get makes you happy.
What if there is nothing wrong with supersized fries.
And what if what you have taken doesn’t make you happy.
What if you have always wanted to plant the campaign trail in flags
until your hands are full of them and then you don’t anymore.
And what if Manhattan is too goddamn crowded. And what if
you get up on a rooftop in all those bright one a.m. lights
drunk on cocktails
and you decide to remind everyone I AM ONLY A CHILD
except now you’re not.
—  grown

anonymous asked:

Hello :-) so I really want to cosplay as Donna noble but I have no idea where to start. Help me out please?

Most Donna cosplays I’ve seen tend to go for her standard promo shot look: brown pleather jacket, grey tunic, wide belt, dark loose jeans, hoop earrings, and undeterred confidence.

So, the safe bet is to go with that look if you’re concerned with not being immediately recognizable as a Donna Noble cosplayer or want something “classic.”

But if either of those things aren’t super important to you, maybe get creative and go for one of her other less common looks!

You could try her wedding dress from The Runaway Bride, the pinstriped pantsuit from Partners in Crime, or her casual ensemble from Silence in the Library.

If you want to go the historical route, her ’20s flapper (or slapper) dress from The Unicorn and the Wasp is especially gorgeous, and the Ancient Roman-inspired look from The Fires of Pompeii seems surprisingly easy to replicate.

Re-watch Donna’s journeys with the Tenth Doctor; you’ll discover that she has a lot of really flattering and diverse looks to choose from which can suit a variety of cosplay budgets!

so i’m pretty sick of hearing all this nonsense about how if your Cecil is white, you’re a bad person or whatever, so i decided to share my Welcome To Night Vale headcanons. they came out of my brain. my imagination. therefore, you can’t tell me they’re wrong or stupid or shameful.

Cecil: scrawny, lanky guy. pretty tall, with awkward limbs. he’s got pale white skin - pale because he’s always inside, either doing his radio show or planning the next one. he’s got big brown eyes and poofy blonde hair. he dresses like a hipster, but not in a pretentious way. he just likes the way that bowties and oxfords look.

Carlos: he’s fairly muscular, average height. he’s indian, and has a killer accent. gorgeous dark eyes, and curly black hair. basically he’s Sendhil Ramamurthy from Heroes. he likes wearing brown shoes, and often drinks blue gatorade… for some reason.

Kevin: short guy, and perhaps a little chubby. he’s bald, has dark skin, wears glasses. dresses like an old man. wears clarks wallabees every day.

Lauren: long, dark hair. skinny. conservative dresser - like, i imagine her in a matching skirt and cardigan set every day. she’s Asian, specifically Korean. drinks a lot of coffee, but weak coffee.

Old Woman Josie: Greek, with very strong facial features. long black hair, streaked with gray. never wears pants, always skirts. kind of dresses like Phoebe Buffay from Friends, but less eccentric. has an accent like Dorotoa from Gossip Girl - what was she, Polish?

Mayor Pamela Winchell: short blonde hair, cut severely blunt. possibly Dutch. always wears a blue pantsuit. often drunk.

Intern Dana: small. ginger. freckles. long, curly hair. adorable. likes to wear dresses and cardigans. plays the ukulele in her spare time, except she doesn’t play anymore…

khoshek - brown. scrawny. patchy fur. left year is either torn or bent, haven’t decided yet.

your WTNV cast can look however you want them to, and no one should accuse you of white-washing. it’s in YOUR OWN HEAD for goodness sake.