Why a blog?

I give up, easily.
Anything. Everything.
Because of a lack of confidence.

People won't like me, laugh at me, think I'm stupid.
That is why my entire life I hid away, in dark clothes.
Black, dark blue or grey.
Anything to make me invisible.

I never used make-up in high school because I didn't know how.
My hair was always the same because I had no idea what to do with it (ponytail, tightly pulled back, in case you're curious).

When I was 18 I got married and I wanted a change.
I wanted the real me to come out.
But I still had no clue how.

At 26 I started this blog.
So that I wouldn't give up, wouldn't forget where I was going.

This is my journey, feel free to walk it with me, every step of the way.
All my failures, all my mistakes.
But also my winnings, my happy moments and my bliss.
I'll be honored to have you with me.

It's official

PersonalPosted by Fashiondisaster Tue, November 22, 2016 21:41:06
When I was younger,
I was never really interested in clothes,
I had one favorite shirt,
Because it had glitter on it,
And even when it was two sizes too small,
I refused to let it be thrown away,
You know,
Crying and stuff,
When someone just mentioned "Don't you think it's time..?",

When I was a teenager clothes didn't do much for me either,
It just had to be different,
I had two favorite pairs of jeans,
One was covered in paint,
The other was entirely made,
Of patches of different jeans,
My grandfather hated it,
I didn't care.

They all had wide legs,
Like in the 70's,
The bigger,
The better,
And I wore them with Vans skater shoes,
Two sizes too big,
On purpose,
Of course.

Now that I'm 30,
It's official,
When it comes to clothes,
I'm an addict,
And a bit of a hoarder.

Yesterday it happened,
My closet was full,
Really full,
No gaps,
No little places to squish in another sweater,
No more room floor for an extra pair of shoes,
So it happened.

On my terras,
From the bedroom,
I have my little corner,
With a sort of closet,
It's made out of bamboo,
With three shelfs,
And normally used for plants,
I think,
I used it for candles,
Inspirational thingies.

Not anymore,
It now keeps my clothes,
That don't fit,
In my indoor dressing anymore.

It sounds bad,
I know,
But hear me out,
All these clothes,
Are rescues,
I get them out of sale bins,
At secondhand stores,
Where no one ever bothers to look,
Because they are too old,
Or too weird.

I can spent hours,
Shifting trough them,
Finding jewels,
That no one else seems to want,
Unique pieces,
Sometimes even vintage.

And I love them,
I love them all,
And I can't move them aside,
I have to take them with me,
Wear them,
And give them a second chance.

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