IT’S NOT YOU, IT’S ME

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I mean, has anyone ever talked about how your early 20s sometimes feel like re-entering the world as a tiny, scared, clueless baby? Oh, your 20s!! I remember when I was 20. Don’t you remember when we were 20, Sharon? This is the reception I get every time I tell the Sharons of the world I’m 20. That, or they don’t believe me and instead mistake me for a fifteen-year-old. One of the two.

But really, as much as these years are full of unabashed, self-destructive fun, a lot of the time they’re terrifyingly undefined, neither-here-nor-there moments spent questioning everything you’ve done over the last 20-odd years. There’s always the potential that it is just me having a privileged white existential crisis living out here in a huge share house (The bathroom is just like… so hard to keep clean! Ugh.), but I’d like to think it’s a little more than that.

When you spend so many years knowing a few things, but knowing them very well- your family house, high school friends, the three hangout spots you frequented on the weekends- a new city brings a truly technicolour world of experiences you were completely clueless about. Which you realise are most things. And because young folk are malleable, absorbent and curious creatures, you begin to change.

Maybe, in a moment of weakness, you give yourself a wildly bad drunk haircut with a pair of blunt scissors. A nose ring. An earring. Any piece of metal anywhere, really. You buy a bum bag or an exorbitantly expensive pair of sneakers with what should be grocery money. Maybe you date a boy, or a girl, or both and realise it was a terribly tragic, temporarily life-shattering mistake and you cry and do the cliché breakup things you told yourself you’d never do. It’s confusing and awkward. Like puberty. Except you’re too old to blame it on puberty anymore. I mean, you could. Sometimes I still do. It’s just too hard to resist when you still look fifteen.

Well it turns out I am the reigning queen of subjecting myself to awkward and confusing encounters (subjecting is a nice way of putting it: more like choosing to dive in, head-first). And while this blog was, and will always be, a wonderful aspect of my inappropriately adolescent life, I think it needs to grow up.

Because I’m not nearly as interested in a consistent photo stream of me in different poses anymore. Not that there’s anything wrong with that- I just think I’m not nearly as good at it as I thought I was and, in the spirit of transparency, it’s probably a little detrimental. I’d like this blog (and connected social media platforms, if you will) to be more reflective of my current chaotic-and-clueless state. I think I’ll write more and hopefully it will be entertaining. I really haven’t thought much past that. In life, I mean. That’s about all for the forward planning.

So I hope you enjoy this for all that it may or may not amount to.

Izzy

our house

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I present to you: our quaint little corner of Carlton. There’s still a video coming but for now, just a sneak peek at our usually-messy 150-year-old terrace/party house. We’ve had at least 7 people squished in almost every night and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

In other news- Victoria is having a heatwave and the first thing I opened my computer to this morning was an article titled “Welcome to Hell.” Uplifting. I also started uni yesterday and already absolutely despise advanced technical drawing. If you’re back at uni too I feel for you. Now I’m gonna shower before I go delusional in this heat. Talk soon! x

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Wearing: For Love & Lemons bodysuit via Shopbop, FallenBrokenStreet hat.

Happy New Year, folks. If I’m being completely honest I’m kind of a New Year’s scrooge- partially because I think January 1st is just another day and partially because my last night of 2016 was not that exciting. I fell asleep at roughly 10:30 and missed the countdown entirely. Needless to say, I don’t really do resolutions either (see here) but it would be nice to do less stupid shit this year. Just three days ago I went to a festival, got intoxicated, fell over, sprained an ankle, cut open a knee and lost my phone. Then got driven out in a police buggy which is a whole different story entirely. Actually, I finally got around to filming a video so hopefully all will be clear soon enough?

As you can imagine, living in a different state, my friends are currently spread all over the country- so this outfit pays homage to those lucky enough to attend some cool festivals over the holiday period. I really, really wanted to go to Falls but it was always just slightly financially out of reach. Like most things. I’m not complaining, though- free food and a tank full of fuel aren’t so bad. Happy New Year again and may your 2017 be magical!

LOVE ME PLS (A REVOLVE SALE WISHLIST)

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Pictured: Strapless blouse, metallic skirt, leather clutch, Love Me tee, clear glasses, denim jeans, gold choker, tie front bikini top, mules. 

Unfortunately, mum’s decided to skip out on our usual sad Australian attempt at Thanksgiving this year- but that doesn’t mean I can’t partake in Black Friday. I’m so broke I can barely afford to Uber Eats a pizza, but with a little research I’ve worked out the sales that are actually worth my scraped-together pennies.

The Revolve sale is gonna be dope so here are my top add-to-cart picks. Over 350 styles are 50% off and there’s free express shipping on orders over $100. Not great facts for the bank account but great in every other sense of the word. Get shoppin to make me feel better about myself. xx

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