Brazen patriot cap. Popped collar. Shoulder-slung shirt. Three checkpoints I never expected to manage on any sort of outing, let alone cavortings around local tangle-wood. Ok, a guilt-free pass-by at F21 was included somewhere in there. So was that hat. An unfortunate turn of events just happened to snatch it from proper picture time. Darn. Waxy denim can serve as collateral in this case.
(h&m denim shirt, zara monkstraps)
For a while there, I partly regretted taking this shirt into ownership. Quite literally, I stood there, head half-cocked, questioning the thing on the hanger. Taking the leap payed off in the sense that now pretending to look like a Napoleonic admiral doesn't look nearly as bogus as I had anticipated.