Sometimes I think back to when I was twelve years old and my idea of a fun-filled afternoon was reading “Anarchism and Other Essays” while stabbing metal studs into my denim jacket. It sounds silly and contrived when reflecting on it, but at the time, I think I was more genuine and honest than I ever have been. Sometimes, I miss that about myself. I wish I could still be bratty and crass, but with a soft heart and an idealistic outlook.

So enough of this being “put together” crap! Brash and outspoken and ridiculous. Sweet and sour taken to each extreme. Jagged edges and wrinkled collars. Rings on every finger and flowers dangling out of uncombed hair. Leather driving gloves and a pale pink dress. Ripped stockings held together with safety pins worn under a floral skirt. Leopard print leggings and coral lipstick. Cake and vinyl records and old magazines and frayed bandanas and mismatched socks and a tiara…