Spats (or spatterdashes) are a type of footwear which is not unpopular in the steampunk scene, but otherwise went out of fashion in the early 20th century for reasons which are currently beyond me, I mean, they serve a practical purpose, y’know? Keeps the mud off your shoes. Not that I go outside frequently enough to get muddy shoes in the first place but I think we can all agree that it’s fun to accessorise regardless.
All us overdressed villains, that is!
It was my birthday a few weeks back, has it been long enough that nobody expects me to organise anything? Yes? Good.
If anybody asks: I’m still 14.
Heck, after the amount of Yu-Gi-Oh I’ve been watching recently I’ve got to say, actual 14 year old me would be super proud of the fact that I generally dress like I’m on my way to duel Seto Kaiba.
While I’m willing to admit that the whole belt-phase and some of the sillier things my hair has experienced over the years were not uninspired by Kazuki Takahashi’s character designs; it’s been 10 years since I last watched this nonsense-
My eyeliner has a lot of explaining to do.
Or maybe I just shouldn’t keep that huge Yami Yugi poster in the same room as my make-up…?
It’s all in the impractically tight pants, friends. It’s all in the pants. Commit to the tight pants.
Sitting down is no longer an option.
[ E m B r A c E t H e P a N t S ]
Why yes, my body is ready for The Dark Side of Dimensions, how could you tell?
But unfortunately the nuanced complexities of the affectionate interdependence fostered between the Kaiba brothers is not the point of today’s entry. As fascinating as their relationship* is.
Recently I have been vaguely attempting to actually work on personal cosplay projects again (after realising that we’re nearly a quarter into 2014 already and all I’ve really done between paid jobs is wallow in self-pity).
Life is hard.
To be honest I’m not really cut out for this whole “being an adult” thing.
True story: I’ve gotten up every day with the intention of cutting my fingernails for the past month-and-a-half. They’re impractically long, chipped, cracked, dented, and any day now one is going to break right back at the skin line and it’s going to hurt like a fuck.
But I just can’t bring myself to care.
This is a metaphor.
What up, losers? Insulting people is an appropriate way to begin a blog entry, yes?
Well, even in the event that it isn’t, I’ve made my choices and am committed to them, for better or for worse. Mostly worse.
Speaking of poor life choices that I’m committed to, Separation Anxiety, is still a thing that is somehow managing to still be happening! The prologue reached its conclusion some weeks ago and first chapter has since commenced.
Updates are still on Thursdays.
But that isn’t really why I’m here today.
Costume progress.
After some thought on the matter I decided to slip a couple of (very small) shoulder-pads into the Junior Warrant Officer Schrödinger shirt.
Some people have strong opinions on shoulder-pads, saying that they should not be used if you are feminine or have poor posture because all they really do is end up drawing attention to the fact, but if that were true then only male body-builders would ever bother getting a nicely tailored suit.
If you can’t guess this happy little dude’s name:
I’ll give you a hint: It starts with “The” and ends with “Man”.
Then you’re a far less insensitive person than me (and that’s probably a good thing)!