park it yrself, metallica breath.
I recently unearthed a pair of oversized, light wash, weird-90s-MAN JEANS from the back of my closet. How they got there, I don't know - I can only assume they were a thrifted attempt at boyfriend jeans, but it didn't NOT cross my mind that they might, at some point, have belonged to my Dad? Regardless of origin, the damage is done: I'm smitten. They're a little like this
(except WORSE), and their ugliness is appealing to me in ways that I KNOW are wrong, yet still feel terribly, terribly right.
If, at this point in time, you're assuming that I'm pairing these things with a feminine or fitted top (to offset the DUDE VIBES, of course), then I thank you for the benefit of the doubt - BUT. I'd like to make it clear that I'm currently wearing them with a) a strong contender for the world's most disgusting Metallica t-shirt
, and b) my hair down, and with a center part - meaning that in all reality, the only thing separating me from Kenny Crandall & co
up there is some Nars
and a few pieces of jewelry.*
*my being A-OK with this can be filed under "things that should surprise NO ONE."