Life lately..

L-R 1. Christmas photo with the kids. 2. NYE view at Conrad Manila 3. Cookies & Creme kisses ♥ 4. Who doesn't love Snapchat? 5. Alonso Pupper 6. #TalesFromTheShotgun on Instagram 7. Teddyboinks 8. My current fave pumps 9. Me and my binata :) 10. Another Conrad Manila View 11. Me and my dalaga :) 12. My ever reliable sunshine yellow Chucks.

I haven't visited my little corner here on for almost 2 years now (how sad is that??). But I'm back now. And I shall blabber uncontrollably. :)

Overhaul

Top = thrifted

High waist shorts = Landmark

Booties = Parisian

Back when I started working, I had a workmate who was a Psych graduate. During our free time, we took a lot of personality tests (which I still enjoy taking up until now, BTW) and afterwards, she would translate & explain the results to us. On one of the tests, she told me that I was some kind of OC, or something to that effect. Back then, I didn't full understand what the tendencies were. They just told me that OC people are the epitome(s?) of being organized. I told my mum about it, and without batting an eyelash, she said that it was very unlikely. It seemed that being organized was a word omitted from my vocabulary.

Over the years, when I've managed to get to know my self more, I realized that my former colleague had been right all along. I, indeed have an inclination to OCD. Though mum had been right that I am not the most organized (pertaining to the stuff inside my closet & my underwear drawers), it dawned on me that this is the case when my state of mind is in utter disorder, too. 

It led me to the conclusion that my closet (my stuff in general, actually) is a mirror of my thoughts. And right now, both my closet literally & (mental) figuratively are in dire need of an overhaul..

Hatemail..

Photos by Erika

Blazer & tattered jeans = Thrifted

Shirt = Divisoria

Flats = Parisian

Canvas Bag = Forever 21

A couple of years back, I received an anonymous mail. Ok, a "hatemail" to be blunt. It voiced out how he/she/it/they dreaded me as a person entirely, poking the right spots with such accuracy & precision. They despised the way I look - how ridiculously skinny I am (or was), how disgusted they were of my tattoos. They hated the way I speak, that they cannot contain sneering whenever they heard me. They mocked my thrifting habits, and taunted the way I dress.

I was enraged initially, of course. I wanted to scream - at whoever it was' face. I wanted oh-so-badly to lash out. My heart twitched, I almost let out a cry. I kept on wondering what was it that I did wrong? Is my fashion sense really THAT kind of bazonkers? Was stepping out of my (fashion) comfort zone another decision gone bad? I was wringing my brain for answers. It got to me big time that I was thisclose to un-believing myself. I was offended, outraged even. I had to fight off the strong urge to type a 3-page response to whoever it was, because it seemed like the most logical thing to do at the time..

But I didn't. 

I chose mature instead of logical.

I chose to re-believe in me instead of logical.

And simply because of the realization that ITJUST. WASN'T. WORTHIT. :)

Living Life - Sweet Brown Style

Photos by Nyok

Cropped top: Edsa Central Bazaar

High-Waisted Shorts: Landmark

Fedora: Forever 21

Flats: Parisian

Specs: SM Department Store

Toxic people. Bitterness. Insecurities. Worrying. Settling..

AIN'T NOBODY GOT TIME FOR THAT!

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nh7UgAprdpM)