-Hello Twitty-

I have this memory of my dad allowing my gran to babysit me for a day and when I came back I had pierced ears and press on nails. I was four. My dad flipped his shit and ripped them off and chewed out his in-laws. And forever more press on nails were considered trashy in my mind. Which, of course, made me want them all the more:


This isn't much of an update, but I felt the need to share the glory of trailer park chic I've been sporting. Also, total impulse buy, yay lapel pins!: