copper maiden.

[esperanza lillian buganski]

01/03/2011 11:00 AM ENTRY NO. 1

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Why hello there, my bored post-teenage counterparts, my soccer moms and weekend warrior dads, my media magnate compadres. Allow me to begin this dreadfully detailed and lengthy discourse on my personal evaluation of fashion with a introduction, through which of course we’ll become acquainted and I’ll tell you that I have to have some form of a journal or else they’ll stop letting me see my therapist (which is helping this time, really, it is!), and I’m not exactly a literary miracle worker, so a daily fashion update is the best I could do with my limited means. Also, allow me to take a moment to point out how clever the title of my blog is. I was thinking of using nickel, but nobody likes nickels and I couldn’t risk the influx of guests who will see me and notice me and idolize me for my clearly impressive ensemble choices. Now, I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is yes. Allow us to proceed through a journey of self-discovery and self-clothing. All systems go!

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[esperanza lillian buganski]

01/03/2011 11:50 AM ENTRY NO. 2

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So, today I'm being dragged to brunch by an overzealous woman that happens to share my last name. I'd like ot begin by apologizing for any typos, because my hands are refusing to do as I dictate and I'm getting progressively more frustrated as time wears on. That being said, I do so enjoy writing these (with all the experience I have as the veteran blogger of a two-post blog) and I'll persist until I come to a decent resolution.

Personally, I never understood the concept of brunch. I feel like people who eat brunch are pretentious, dull individuals with nothing to do - in this case, both myself and my mother are these people and I will eat lobster bisque and drink from my lemony water because she asked me to. And I am a nice girl.

In typical me fashion, I've known for weeks about this event (how arresting I will be, eating my soup!), and ignored the piles of clothes spilling from every which way in my closet until now, ten minutes before I have to leave. But it's all right. I'll type this and then put ont he clothes I've showcased and go. Anyway.

I don't really have much to say about this, because it wasn't something I put together myself apart from the shoes, bag and sunglasses. I ripped it from the runway as soon as Daphne there, with her lovely mole and whatever else you can think of to describe her (although you can't see her face, so I'm not particularly sure what you have to look at apart from her xylophone and hair) was backstage, changing for her second outfit. I really liked the pants, in particular, because blue Is My Color, or so I've heard.

I'm off to lunch. Enjoy.

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[esperanza lillian buganski]

01/23/2011 3:04 PM ENTRY NO. 3

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I don't feel anything anymore. I imagine I look like this. It hurts to breathe, I'm suffocating, my insides are twisting and coming out and there's nothing I can do about it because every time I try I fall without my wings I feel so small I guess I need you baby I guess I do or I'm going under suspiciously murky water and I'll drown help meeeeee Help meeeeee!

I'm roasting like a pig in an oven!

I'm falling apart at the seams!

I got my clothes back.

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