Sick City Windows

Okay, I totally feel like everything lately is just so fucking trendy. i die. Don’t you? Like non-stop crop tops, glow sticks, activism, ombré, bikes, lesbians, molly, flower crowns, kale, Celiné bags, tattoos, Girls– it just doesn’t end. Absolutely nothing is sacred anymore, and everything’s gone commercial. Refinery 29– over it. Madonna at Ultra– over it. YSL—> SLP– beyond over it. Trends totally suck, they’re taking over the world and seriously making my energy vibrate at a less than optimal frequency.

Back when everyone didn’t go to Bonnaroo in high waisted shorts and some sort of braided leather tied on their head it was actually a really rad time; but like now every fucking doosh I come across is swapping stories about their life altering experience at EDC. At the core of it, I should be really happy that my generation basically just wants to get fucked up and jam to music, but I can’t. It’s just so trendy, and I’ve totally been there done that. Maybe if Refinery stopped publishing completely bunk festival fashion guides, Helmut Lang stopped tweeting about Bonnaroo, and Coachella didn’t turn into a pap playground this wouldn’t be the case. But it is. And so I’m over it. All of it. If I never see another Instagram pic of a group of super cool girls in trendy clothes on their way to a super cool music festival, I’ll be good. really. Besides- if you need 16 filters to look mediocre at best, perhaps sharing your life experiences through visual imagery isn’t your strong suit. At least it shouldn’t be…

I always think that maybe if I could look trendy, I could be trendy and then I wouldn’t be so anti, but I can’t slash won’t, and so I am. Let’s be real here, when it comes to fashion- trends are really just trying to re-invent the flat girl as an evolutionary equal to big boobs. Which, I’m sorry, is just never going to happen. Marketing can only do so much. No matter how flowy the silhouette or illusory the cut, your A’s will never be D’s, Lindsay will never be Marilyn, and trends will never be chic. So can everyone just go home (or back to the Hamptons) so that I can get back to living my life, before my life became cool–thanks.

Image courtesy of BohemianBitch