Hirsute Pursuit (pt II).

It's gonna get weird real fast and real soooon because: IT'S CONFESSION TIME. CONFESSION TIME #1: Sometimes, I wish I was a DUDE. For reeeaalllls, people, FOR. REALS. As a lady (Lady Kaya, as I was known backintheday), I have to choose to wear shorts/skirt/pants/jeans with a tanktop/tshirt/buttonup/fancytop with sandals/sneaks/boots/chucks. It gets real hard, real tough, REAL FAST. But if I was a dude, I'd probably rotate the same three shirts, two jeans, and sneaks every three to five days. But most of alllllll, I'D GET A SLAMMMMMIN' HAIRCUT. I'd either go long, dirty rocker hair length, a la Axl Rose in the 80s-90s (so, sans cornrows), or go totally floppy-top, with the sides and back cut short. Hmmmm, yah. So, hopefully in my next lifetime, I'll be reincarnated into a guy with riduculous hair. FINGERS CROSSED.

Ohhhhh my lady instincts won't let me let go of my long hair just yet, but one day... ONE DAY!

--- CONFESSION TIME #2: If I had the balls to cop anyone's style, I'd take Wednesday Addams style please! She mastered the blank, dead-face stare that I ADORE; she has the whole "floral-on-black-with-white-collar" dress market cornered; BUT MOST OF ALLLLL, she gots some zazzzzfied hair. She has shiny-ness and sheen that could blind a baby's eyes! And when it's coupled with the widow-peak and the "five-head" that she sports..... IT'S LIKE WHOA. JEALOUS.

"I'm a homicidal maniac, they look just like everyone else." HOLLLLA at that. Images from HEL LOOKS, Hoy, Stil in Berlin, StockholmStreetStyle, Oslo Stil, & Google Images.