for those who wander, wonder & define life on their own terms

Boho Démodé

Beauty and fashion that appeal to the boho bougie in every girl.

Why I Cry

Why I Cry

Beauty, Boho Démodé, Cultural Caravan, Poetry
I used to diet by eating one Reeses and a slice of pizza BOOM! I was a waif and always running late. Now, I see skinny women of a certain age and think… “They must smoke.” This is not a joke. I can look at a a pack of Oreos and my ass fat quadruples. Oreos are unscrupulous little wafers of hate. Things…certain things…now jiggle instead of lift and bounce, and I ain’t talkin’ about my ears. I could blame it on the years, but that’s like listening for singular voice in a canyon of echoes. I now have to buy jeans from a section for “curvy,” Is that like being big boned? I used to check my Bone-ed-ness with fingers around my wrist. How can I check my curves? By looking at my thighs and that space in between. Mind the gap they say, except ain’t nobody
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