up, up and away
Sometimes vintage clothing is not a choice, but rather reflects a state of mind. What makes sense on my skin in one instant may be redundant the next. This afternoon I made a wrong turn and found a thrift store I had never visited.
Lately I have been witness to an internal battle. My aspirations and curiosities have been vying for a new direction and resistance is futile. Perhaps publishing my own version of my place in the world will give me clarity.
The cape was hidden between rows of schoolboy blazers and endless shades of denim. As I arrived home the last few strains of sunlight were fading into a cold darkness. My boyfriend and I raced eachother to the last patch of sunlight we could find and snapped a few photos with no time for a dress rehearsal. The breeze caught the cape just before the camera battery let our impulses down.
This photo captures much more than the light. I have been nervously sorting the best of me. A reveal is uncomfortable without an icebreaker. Playing the part of the hero in an online story is a restless prospect. Thank goodness I found myself a cape.