#denim experiment

[bhospicefashion]

This is a sample that I constructed using different type of denim to create a patchy sample effect that I could possibly use further in my project and could relate it to the brain. This was a plan out picture to see how they could be placed and stitched up before sewing them together.

[tampire]

The Reign of Venus and her loved ones

[gonzos-audacity]

i dont really consider myself to be punk or grunge or goth or whatever. just a vague alternative soup. but ive never felt myself more comfortable or fitting into subculture than when i started realizing i did not have to spend a ton of money to 'look the part.'

a good 85% of my wardrobe is shit i got at thrift stores. i've started making my own jewelry. the base of my battle jacket (a sturdy, oversized denim jacket) i got for free cuz it was (accidentally) stolen. the only time i really shell out any decent money is for good shoes and handmade patches/jewelry from people on etsy.

diy can take time and resources but i guarantee the stuff you make will look far more "punk" than any pre-patched $200 jacket you buy on torrid. also its fun.

[iscariotapologist]

i think maybe a lot of people actually do not want to do this

[robinspinknest]

i will be making one of these soon. i must.

[refrigeratedboombursts]

Unpopular(?) opinion but every tmf character except maybe Zander and Lia have boring as fuck outfits

[battydora]

average edgeshot/best jeanist enjoyer experience (with memes)

(brief manga spoilers)

1. finding the characters interesting and wanting to know more about them, going to their wiki

2. finding out they have really short wikis compared to other mha characters and that you have to settle with that and the little to no screentime they have (both anime and manga)

3. searching content of them in google, tumblr, wattpad, ao3 and questionable sites only to find crumbs and wanting more of that fanart/fanfic that was so good but unfortunately there is no more and jump into the conclussion that you will have to do it yourself because fan content isn't something you claim in fandom and we can't commission art/fics cause we all poor

4. being so tired after a while of being the only person actively talking and making edgeshot/best jeanist content

5. but because of that you meet amazing mutuals who have the same hyperfixation on them like you do, you make a little edgejeanist community where you all reblog eachother's content and share your headcanons, theories, art and fics. (ily people)

7. but then you all remember you live in delusion and that the actual series barely give you canon content AAAND when there is horikoshi spits on our faces and steps on our feelings so since you've been hyperfixating on your personal headcanons for song long you can't believe they aren't actually canon.

8. now that i mention it, all of you at edgeshot's current state in the manga (myself included)(pun intended)

9. edgejeanist shippers sobbing and crying their eyes out because shinya will die in the manga and tsunagu will be left alone with no one looking out for him like shinya used to.

10. choosing to live in delusion and pretend nothing in the manga happened and live happily with characters that are no longer horikoshi's because we stole them and gave them personal and more accurate headcanons.

11. repeat

[chocochat]

i went thrifting today and got a bunch of cutie tops im so happy and excited to wear them this summer (*´꒳`*)

[boanerges20]

Lost & Found

[eats-the-stars]

I feel like there are roughly two kinds of "painfully weird kid" that you can be during your K-12 school years. the first is your "I am trying so hard to be normal but I just cannot seem to hit the mark. there's just something wrong with me and I don't know how to fix it" and the second is the category I was in, which is your "everyone around me is so incredibly weird but they obviously can't help it so I will just have to accept this."

[bumpscosity]

63 cent build a bears lets goooooo

[serpientesuenos]

do you ever wonder how people perceive you when you walk past them?

[gulaabjamoon]

can someone send me 5k to buy new clothes

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Usamerican miku doodle before sleep. She's at the 4th of July family cookout

[gallusrostromegalus]

I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

[bhospicefashion]

Here is the beginning of constructing my denim skirt. My first step was to cut it to the length I want my skirt to be like.Then adjust it to my sizes and measurements so it fits me perfectly around the waist and how tight I want the skirt to be. I sew down the seam to see if I need to make adjustments with the skirt.