Lace represents everything a woman should be: it is fragile and delicate, timeless and classic, gentle yet bold. It can be beautiful or it can be sexy; innocent but sensual. Lace comes from a time when women were not trying to prove themselves fit for a man’s job, but, rather, embraced all that we were made to be. Lace has been traded in for midriffs and daisy dukes as society deemed it old-fashioned. Basically, I love lace because it reminds me of tea cups and fairy tales; it makes me feel like a woman who hasn’t forsaken the little girl inside.
“There is only one Asian in the entire series, granted she is a pretty prominent character. You are white, you can dye your hair and be anyone you want; I can dye my hair and I’m still Asian! Do you see my predicament?”
—daily angst of Stephanie Kim
For the first time in my 18 years, my brother called me just to talk
I love how Lewis’ past masterpiece creeps into this bit of infallible wisdom; no matter how scholarly this man may have been, the curious child always makes his way in.
I remember, time and time again, I would beg my parents for something that I new they wouldn’t or couldn’t give me. They would get this distressed look on their face and the no they finally gave me seemed so forced; I couldn’t understand why they didn’t just give in to my request. Now I realize saying no to someone you love is probably one of the hardest things ever.
It is a very strange feeling listening to something so familiar and yet so foreign. Either way, I am crazy glad he’s back.
I had forgotten the euphoria of my bones resonating to a bass that is just loud enough to feel