March 8, 2012
Not gonna lie, was totally into Spice Girls in 7th grade. Used to wake up at 7 am to watch their videos on VH1.

Not gonna lie, was totally into Spice Girls in 7th grade. Used to wake up at 7 am to watch their videos on VH1.

(Source: ponysfashion, via chelsamander)

10:15pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwHhZsKa
(Notes: 754)
  
Filed under: Spice Girls memories 
February 19, 2012
Fred Herzog. The worst thing I have ever done was let a neighbor bully my brother. Children are cruel and I cut our scars deeper.

Fred Herzog.

The worst thing I have ever done was let a neighbor bully my brother. Children are cruel and I cut our scars deeper.

(Source: aubzillatron)

10:26pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwGiQvqR
(Notes: 25)
  
Filed under: memories 
February 19, 2012
shesinacoma: Stairway to Heaven, 2011, by Bertjan Pot Justine took me to this new place called Eat. It was tiny and you had to sit next to people you didn’t know on these wooden benches. The menu was whatever they felt like serving. She was embarrassed because when we sat down they were having a class on growing your own sprouts and beans so we couldn’t talk that loudly. They had a chalkboard on wheels and little wooden bowls with burgundy and red matte color beans, it was a legit class, they talked about where they got their produce. When we left Justine said she was sorry, and I said it was ok, it was so delicious, although I didn’t finish what I ordered.

shesinacoma: Stairway to Heaven, 2011, by Bertjan Pot

Justine took me to this new place called Eat. It was tiny and you had to sit next to people you didn’t know on these wooden benches. The menu was whatever they felt like serving. She was embarrassed because when we sat down they were having a class on growing your own sprouts and beans so we couldn’t talk that loudly. They had a chalkboard on wheels and little wooden bowls with burgundy and red matte color beans, it was a legit class, they talked about where they got their produce. When we left Justine said she was sorry, and I said it was ok, it was so delicious, although I didn’t finish what I ordered.

10:11pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwGiNLDp
(Notes: 5)
  
Filed under: memories 
February 19, 2012
fletchingarrows: nostalghie: The Color of Pomegranates, Sergei Parajanov queen of the forests My mother made me a green dress costume, the jagged hemline cut like kermit’s collar. My brothers and I played a game called He Can Fly He Can Fly and we were jumping off the beds. I was a Robin Hood who could fly, my weapon a bow and arrow. I needed to be more authentic and thought about the dress with green tights. I stopped the game and looked in all my drawers for it. I asked my mom where it was and she said she gave it away because she didn’t think I would need it anymore.

fletchingarrows:

nostalghie:

The Color of Pomegranates, Sergei Parajanov

queen of the forests

My mother made me a green dress costume, the jagged hemline cut like kermit’s collar. My brothers and I played a game called He Can Fly He Can Fly and we were jumping off the beds. I was a Robin Hood who could fly, my weapon a bow and arrow. I needed to be more authentic and thought about the dress with green tights. I stopped the game and looked in all my drawers for it. I asked my mom where it was and she said she gave it away because she didn’t think I would need it anymore.

10:00pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwGiKrnt
(Notes: 304)
  
Filed under: memories 
February 19, 2012
monsieur-j: Love S/S 2012 - Prada Archive - Karen Elson Close to where I worked was this fake French cafe (the “fast food” kind you only see in New York anyway). If we went early enough the tables had a couple mothers with strollers and men waiting for someone. Later the lines were quite long, they went out the door. Once I sat in the front by the window and I waited so long for my food that I had 10 minutes to eat. I was annoyed in that calm I should have known way, but I ate anyway. I didn’t think I would miss that.

monsieur-j: Love S/S 2012 - Prada Archive - Karen Elson

Close to where I worked was this fake French cafe (the “fast food” kind you only see in New York anyway). If we went early enough the tables had a couple mothers with strollers and men waiting for someone. Later the lines were quite long, they went out the door. Once I sat in the front by the window and I waited so long for my food that I had 10 minutes to eat. I was annoyed in that calm I should have known way, but I ate anyway. I didn’t think I would miss that.

9:51pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwGiIw5X
(Notes: 7)
  
Filed under: memories 
February 12, 2012
nickturse: Flavorpill: The 20 Most Beautiful Bookstores in the World For those browsers not as impressed by architecture as they are by the beauty of books upon books upon books in narrow hallways — not to mention a place to nap. Shakespeare & Company, Paris, France [photo via] ** I know who will choose this one! — NT My ex loved this used bookstore near my house. I remember telling him that I hated old books and he was incredulous and repulsed by such snobbery. I enjoyed gagging around those musty books, but I lie: I don’t hate them; not at all.  Whenever I pass by that used bookshop I always go in and  find something remarkable.

nickturse:

Flavorpill: The 20 Most Beautiful Bookstores in the World

For those browsers not as impressed by architecture as they are by the beauty of books upon books upon books in narrow hallways — not to mention a place to nap. Shakespeare & Company, Paris, France [photo via]

** I know who will choose this one! — NT

My ex loved this used bookstore near my house. I remember telling him that I hated old books and he was incredulous and repulsed by such snobbery. I enjoyed gagging around those musty books, but I lie: I don’t hate them; not at all.  Whenever I pass by that used bookshop I always go in and  find something remarkable.

7:11am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwGI5gKX
(Notes: 52)
  
Filed under: book memories 
January 28, 2012
(by Jan Durina) I miss photo shoots today.

(by Jan Durina)

I miss photo shoots today.

11:25am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwFVnId_
Filed under: memories 
January 16, 2012
I went to Paris when I was 14 with my dad. The last time I had been on a plane was when I was 6. I didn’t/don’t get along with my father, but I was still excited to go to France. My dad wanted me to pose in the middle of the street (no incoming traffic, it was a small crooked street) but I didn’t want to look like a tourist. My dad said “Don’t be a bitch” and I sulked into frame so he could take my picture. When we had the photograph developed he said I always make miserable faces. Photo by Ellen Rogers

I went to Paris when I was 14 with my dad. The last time I had been on a plane was when I was 6. I didn’t/don’t get along with my father, but I was still excited to go to France. My dad wanted me to pose in the middle of the street (no incoming traffic, it was a small crooked street) but I didn’t want to look like a tourist. My dad said “Don’t be a bitch” and I sulked into frame so he could take my picture. When we had the photograph developed he said I always make miserable faces.

Photo by Ellen Rogers

12:11pm  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwEssHkU
(Notes: 689)
  
Filed under: memories stories about Paris this is kinda funny 
January 15, 2012
Bob Ross, missing your voice, 

Bob Ross, missing your voice, 

(via zuleikha)

4:00am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwEoQJ4X
(Notes: 8,998)
  
Filed under: memories 
January 12, 2012
I cannot get over Achilles’ face in this painting. Holy shit.  He’s totally like: “Oh god, mom, put a fucking shirt on, I mean, what are you even doing? Can’t you see I’m busy lamenting the death of my boyfriend? Like I really need to see your tits at a time like this— YOU’RE SO EMBARRASSING MOM GAWD.” And the rest of the Greeks are jazz-handsing in the background. They’re all ‘WOAH LOOK AT THAT TOTALLY WICKED SET OF TITS— I MEAN ARMOUR. WOAH’ Let me just say that this is the best interpretation of a painting I have ever seen ^^^^ no mom mom no NO omygods I’ve made that face when I would go to the Macy’s bra section with my mom. Also, the commentary is reminiscent of the IBS commercial where moms at a grocery store come to the medicine aisle and start talking about laxatives and their teenage daughters are smirking at each other until the moms are like “right sweetie, this will be great for you”. And I’m sitting on the couch like BURNNNNN.

I cannot get over Achilles’ face in this painting. Holy shit.

 He’s totally like: “Oh god, mom, put a fucking shirt on, I mean, what are you even doing? Can’t you see I’m busy lamenting the death of my boyfriend? Like I really need to see your tits at a time like this— YOU’RE SO EMBARRASSING MOM GAWD.”

And the rest of the Greeks are jazz-handsing in the background. They’re all ‘WOAH LOOK AT THAT TOTALLY WICKED SET OF TITS— I MEAN ARMOUR. WOAH’

Let me just say that this is the best interpretation of a painting I have ever seen

^^^^

no mom

mom no

NO

omygods

I’ve made that face when I would go to the Macy’s bra section with my mom. Also, the commentary is reminiscent of the IBS commercial where moms at a grocery store come to the medicine aisle and start talking about laxatives and their teenage daughters are smirking at each other until the moms are like “right sweetie, this will be great for you”. And I’m sitting on the couch like BURNNNNN.

(Source: lemon-sprinkles, via bastardette)

11:39am  |   URL: http://tmblr.co/Z_fYXwEfMa71
(Notes: 95,578)
  
Filed under: memories art