Let us just take a moment to think about the fact that all I wanted to do was photograph this skirt I made and my 10 year old brother turned into Patrick Demarchelier on me.
"No Justina, don't smile, look ANGRY. Fine, one heart."
That is how we ended up with these gorgeous photos.
We took them in the driveway of the house next to the lady who doesn't like our dog, two houses down from the Russel Brand impersonator, across the street from neighbor who used to like us but doesn't anymore.
Good luck figuring out where I live, stalkers.
These people bought the house, put in new concrete, painted everything white and beige, and come mow the lawn once a month, but that's about it.
This leaves the house with that perfect "frozen suburbia" vibe.
I made this skirt on a whim.
A whim to not pay a bajillion dollars for one from American Apparel.
I've gotten quite attached to it now, although the entire thing is a touch on the lopsided side.