The Day Starts When It Burns

My housemate was an incorrigible smoker.

Look what I found! A trip down nostalgia alley, of yet another series of self-portraits from when I first arrived at Los Angeles on the January of 2011. I am not a morning person. In fact, I’ve always been quite the nocturnal creature. But here I was, jet-lagged and starting my day at 7.30am every morning for the first two weeks; my cup of bitter, black tea nothing more than a poor balm to the negative emotions broiling underneath my exterior.

At least I don’t throw sulking tantrums in the mornings anymore.

^{// OUTFIT
H&M knit dress
Mango knit cardigan
Cotton On thigh-high socks & shoes}