#poverty chic

[thecolorsfucked]

transitioning my white half from german to italian w homemade sauce and the cheapest wine possible

[caliginousjunk]

caravan squatter

[solradguy]

I replaced a Reinhardt Overwatch print with the Blue Oyster Cult sleeve today and further anachronized this corner of my room. It's 1998, basically. Who even needs 2023.

[dietmountaindewlover]

[sarcastic-salem]

People only like the vintage farmhouse style cause they’ve never lived in a farm house with no indoor plumbing with only a wood stove for heating, a box tv with rabbit ear antennas and three channels, vintage cars parked all over the yard, at least four dogs and two cats that disappear for two weeks at regular intervals, a hoarded barn, and a legend that your grandaddy hid the family fortune under the floorboards.

⬆️My childhood in Upstate New York. Well, during the summers between the ages of 2-7 and it was really my grandaddy’s brother-in-law. And the barn wasn’t the only place hoarded. Ngl I have a hard time believing this is my life sometimes. Shit sounds like a Southern gothic novel. Smh.

[written-by-ghosts]

really thinking about how morals are a privilege a lot of people don’t get to have.

let me explain.

when i was in college, we had meal plans we could use in the dining halls or one of four campus restaurants. since i spent thousands of dollars on school, my paycheck didn’t cover grocery for a whole month. so i ate on campus since i had to have a meal plan.

one of the restaurants was chic-fil-a.

i’m queer. chic-fil-a wants me dead.

i still ate there.

it was one of four restaurants where i could eat the food and use my meal plan.

i literally couldn’t afford morals. this is just one example. i’m sure there are plenty.

morals are a privilege.

[enchanted-moura]

Pick a Dior Serum - How to find more inner peace?

Pile 1 - Plump Filler

Despair, poverty, sadness and hardship may have been something you've been experiencing for some time. You are only going to get out of this situation. The answer to a healing and slowly rebuilding is to tap into your magical side! Stop thinking that this reality is the only or even the one that has all the power, it is not. Sometimes our blockages and pain and come from such a deep internal place that all we can do is go to the root. Before you start casting spells of curiosity and enchantment, research spiritual work for healing, rebuilding self & coming out of dark situations. Painful situations and thoughts have to be replaced with beautiful and abundant ones. Have a look through this page for plenty of ways to add abundance to your life🛍️

Pile 2 - Glow Booster

You may have many fake friends and sneaky allies who may be disrupting your dazzling gorgeous lucky and abundant energy. You are my unique pile, intriguing, and alluring and that draws both beneficial and toxic people like moths to a flame. You have to be cautious of who you keep around you and why. What do you let influence you? What do you let have the final say in your life? Why are randoms more important to you than you? Check out my salt cleansing bath to get rid of all that energetic heaviness off your aura once you commit to getting rid of the junk! You can do this cleansing shower or bath surrounded by candles and listening to serene music, letting the stress wash away 🛁🎶

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Pile 4 - Lift Sculptor

You may be at a crossroads in your love life juggling options, choices and love styles and preferences. This may be causing unnecessary stress so its time to make a decision. Love and Lust and Desire are all related so if you do not want something bad enough, you simply do not desire it and you cannot force chemistry, desire or even love. Tap into your inner Erotic Goddess and ask her what she desires from her relationships right now. Did she want to explore rotation dating? She looking for a sugar daddy? She wants to commit to a long term relationship? Is she ready for Marriage. Let go of the moralistic judgement and just feel. reflect, dream big, and sprinkle a little more clear love in your life. 🌌💖

Pile 5 - Redness Soother

My money pile, my investor barbies and future millionaires are listening to this. In the same way other piles may stress about friends and love, I feel that your financial life is causing a headache and great distress. You're glamorous af, your ideal closets are stocked with the latest bikinis, lace tops, chic skirts and couture, you desire for your home to have floating crystal chandeliers & fluffy plush carpets. You can have it all but you have to be cautious of your spending habits as well as certain career choices. Are you in the most optimal field for your financial well-being but also mental health? Are you happy in your line of work? Do you have any concrete tangible plans for your prosperity or just pipe dreams. Journal about this and see what you feel 💎👠

More pick a cards available on patreon - https://www.patreon.com/missCordoba 💗

[mai-333]

The Poverty Aesthetic;

Why do people want to look poor?

N.hoolywood Fall/Winter 2017 men’s collection

Not wanting to look polished and elegant isn’t something new. Messier aesthetics have been popular styles since the 1950s. The hippies of the 60s wore a beat up, vintage carnival look. Punk rock trended in the 80s where people wore shredded, torn, or bleached jeans. The 90s had grunge where tattered and even dirty clothes were worn, with distressed denims and flannels. But while these trends were primarily influenced by music and political movements, the current phenomenon of wanting to look homeless or poor is not.

The poverty trend really started with shoes. Taking inspiration from grunge fashion trends which included well worn Doc Martens and Converse. Many people took to manufacturing this look by purposefully making their shoes look dirty, and old. So while these may look similar, the 90s grunge style was created through thrifting and repurposing clothes. This new trend is a mockery to 90s grunge, faking a used look is pathetic, many people who are forced to wear tattered shoes would love your brand new ones. If you really want the distressed shoe aesthetic then buy them second hand, or just wear your shoes until they look worn. This has escalated severely, to the point where luxury brands such as Gucci and Balenciaga, are now selling new used looking shoes.

N.hoolywood and Magnolia Pearl have both been criticised for glamorising the poverty aesthetic. Even John Galliano, who’s 2000s homeless inspired collection later influenced the parody Zoolander film. Celebrities such as Johnny Depp have been seen wearing ‘distressed chic’ outfits which could have been seen on a homeless person, except that he’s actually wearing Magnolia Pearl.

It is no surprise that people have taken issue with the poverty aesthetic, because this is only an aesthetic for those who have the choice. It is the ultimate luxury to be able to choose to dress poor. What a poor person will be judged for wearing is now a trend for richer people. Rich people view poor people through their lens of privilege. This style is not just controversial, it is ignorant, out of touch, and overall just privileged.

Choosing to wear second hand clothing, oversized and layered outfits, is not the issue. I understand that many people choose to dress in a more alternative and grungy style which may look similar to what is worn by poor or homeless people. It is not problematic to wear distressed or tattered clothing when you can afford otherwise. Dressing in worn and second hand clothing is one of the best ways to tackle fast fashion and over consumption. The issue lies where rich people want to masquerade as poor, when luxury brands sell and promote ‘homeless chic’ fashion.

[saintsenara]

I am literally so stressed right now since school is starting up again. I was just scrolling through your posts and I absolutely adore your opinions and thoughts. If you’re still up to the ships asks, I have a few.

For some reason, I have been thinking about age-gap relationships that wouldn’t be quite possible…and added with my love of Severus Snape… 👀👀

Abraxas Malfoy/Severus Snape - I don’t know if you’ve done Lucius/Severus but I just took it a generation back.

Romulus Augustus Lestrange/Severus Snape - I remember you mentioning in Scylla and Charybdis that the two were kindred spirits (?) since they were both killed by Voldemort.

Bellatrix Lestrange/Severus Snape - maybe a bunch of sexual tension during missions? Bellatrix’s attitude toward Severus was mainly suspicion but I feel like she meant it in a ha-ha-I’m-jealous-you’re-the-favorite way, not in a oh-wait-he-actually-is-a-traitor way.

Marlene McKinnon/Severus Snape - I love your take that she was a seasoned veteran in the First Wizarding War. It never made sense to me that everyone in the First Order were all children. Majority, maybe. But all of them being Gryffindors and out-of-school never stuck to me.

Frank Longbottom/Severus Snape - I’ve read a few works for this and I like the few takes there are.

And I already know your thoughts on Lord Voldemort/Severus Snape (it’s a favorite).

I’ve also been thinking about time-travel fix-it’s in general too. How do you think Severus would react if he found himself in Tom Riddle’s era? There’s the take on him being older and aware and absolutely done with his life, and Lord Voldemort (few years out of school or maybe in his 30s to level the age in a way) whose intrigued by the sour man (and maybe gets impressed by his knowledge of the Dark Arts?). Then there’s also student Severus meeting student Tom and getting further radicalized by this young handsome man. There’s so many to explore but at this point, if I don’t get my head out of this rabbit hole, I may never be able to pass school. 😭😭

This turned out to be longer than expected, but I love reading your posts! It’s always so entertaining, especially with your interpretation of Severus Snape. I can rarely ever talk about Severus without being attacked by Marauders fans online.

thank you very much for the ask, pal! i hope this term goes well for you - and that your extremely chic recent interest in snape-related age gap relationships endures.

let's see what we have here...

abraxas malfoy/severus snape romulus lestrange/severus snape

i'm going to take these two together - since romulus is an original character who exists nowhere other than my own head - because they occupy essentially the same role in relation to snape.

i've written before about how i really like the idea of voldemort having three distinct impacts across three separate generations - the knights of walpurgis/the original death eaters, who know the proto-voldemort of the 1940s and 1950s, with his muggle name and his retail job; these men's sons, who know the unassailably powerful voldemort of the 1970s; and these men's sons, who know the paranoid and volatile voldemort of the 1990s.

so you have abraxas - lucius - draco in each of those categories [or, romulus - rodolphus - n/a...]

snape is - of course - part of lucius and rodolphus' generation, and the voldemort he encounters when he becomes a death eater is the unstoppable political force who appears to be made of pure magic - which, naturally, makes snapemort have a very different power dynamic to something like tombraxas.

but it's also clear that snape is someone voldemort takes an interest in because he recognises so much of his former self in him - the slightly feral vibes, the poverty, the disappointing muggle father, the feeling of being an outcast surrounded by posh kids and the desire to bend those same kids to your will.

this is the reason for voldemort arranging things in scylla and charybdis so that snape can lord it over mulciber and avery, and it's also the reason why he's so insistent that abraxas and romulus [and other senior death eaters he knew at school] are nice to him - he's basically enjoying reliving his youth by, once again, making his minions obey someone who is technically their social inferior.

snape lacks the teenage tom riddle's charm [and looks], of course, which means that there's far more condescension inherent in any relationship - platonic or otherwise - that either of these two would have with him than there was in their early relationship with voldemort.

but they also have a fondness for spindly lads with an obsession with magic and regional accents, which means that i'm sure that something can come out of the fireside chats voldemort's compelling them to have with snape while they're forced to host him in their houses...

bellatrix lestrange/severus snape

i am very, very fond of this as a pairing - and, indeed, have something in the works on the topic - and bellatrix's rampant jealousy of snape is exactly why.

one of my preferred ways of exploring snape's position within the death eaters is to think of him as voldemort's exception in terms of social class - that is, that he is the only marked death eater who doesn't come from an elite, quasi-aristocratic background; and that voldemort's supporters who are from lower social classes are kept, like fenrir greyback in the rank-and-file and not permitted to take the mark.

[this is why, in my writing, i always make the carrows a similar level of posh to the malfoys and lestranges - canonically they're rather one-note working-class stereotypes, but i don't think this makes sense given what we know about voldemort's structuring of his organisation during the first war. it's also why i think that peter pettigrew doesn't receive a dark mark until he returns to voldemort post-prisoner of azkaban.]

bellatrix - on the other hand - is voldemort's exception in terms of gender [and another thing i'm wedded to thinking is that alecto carrow also doesn't receive the dark mark until the second war.]

these means, of course, that both she and snape depend on voldemort's favour - especially in the first war, when he still trusts his death eaters sufficiently highly to delegate things to them - much more than the elite male death eaters do.

i think it's reasonable to assume, for example, that rodolphus may object to his wife behaving in a way which defies the gendered conventions elite pureblood women are clearly subject to - and that it's only voldemort's authority that prevents him voicing an objection publicly. or that lucius malfoy - like sirius - conceives of snape as his "lapdog", and it's only voldemort's authority which forces him to treat him as a peer.

which means, of course, that snape and bellatrix are in competition with each other for voldemort's attention in ways which the other death eaters never have to be - which explains their vibe in canon, in which bellatrix finds snape's elevation in voldemort's good books after she falls from grace after the cock-up in the department of mysteries so infuriating.

[it also gives a really interesting dimension to her being completely fucking right about snape's loyalties, but being in the wrong position in voldemort's eyes for her opinion to be trusted by him. you just know she was pissed when she got to the afterlife.]

and - from a shipping perspective - having to be constantly jealous of and obsessed with each other is a very effective way of lighting a spark...

marlene mckinnon/severus snape

i do always like snape with an older woman, because i think it fits his whole vibe, so he goes very nicely with my preferred vision of marlene as a fifty-year-old hard-nosed ministry bitch who fucking loathes mad-eye moody.

the meet-cute? well, spies have to have handlers, don't they? dumbledore passing over his new turncoat death eater to one of his senior lieutenants - particularly given the fact that she's unlikely to be thrilled about this - is something i can get on board with.

frank longbottom/severus snape

frank and alice are other ones i don't enjoy seeing written as part of the marauders' generation - for them to be well-established aurors by the time the lestranges attack them, i think it's reasonable to assume that they're around molly and arthur's age [that is, around ten years old than snape et al.]

so i think we're repeating the same scenario as above - frank needs to debrief the order's new spy. if you know what i mean...

time-travelling snape!

i think that the teenage tom riddle would fucking hate the teenage snape, to be honest. the teen snape we meet in canon is someone who really obviously refuses to play along with the social conventions which govern an institution as elite as hogwarts - and he clearly stands out more for his grubby, feral demeanour, his uncouth manners, his way of speaking, and his refusal to be deferential to his social superiors than he does for his name and blood-status.

[indeed, he's one of the only really visibly working-class students we ever meet in canon - to the extent that i am increasingly convinced that hogwarts is a selective school...]

the young voldemort, in contrast, happily plays along with these social conventions for his own ends - simpering through slug club meetings and sending slughorn pineapple and doing all he can to be viewed as a suitable candidate for head boy, in order both to provide a cover for his wrongdoing and as a way to soothe the chip on his shoulder by beating the posh at their own game.

he's going to think snape's as common as muck, and snape's going to think he's a pretentious cunt.

a post-1981 snape going back in time and finding himself entangled with the young-adult voldemort, in contrast, i think could be rather compelling. it's very interesting that the teenage voldemort's willingness to play-act a fondness for the class system doesn't extend to being prepared to grit his teeth and suffer through a ministry internship slughorn procures for him - and his decision to go off and work in a shop has a slightly bolshy "fuck you, sir" side to it we don't otherwise really see from him.

this voldemort would, i think, be slightly more open to snape's whole vibe, and they could get cracking on all the things which make snapemort a hot ship - the shared love of magical experimentation, the dubious morality, the fact that voldemort's clearly responsible for snape's aesthetic, and so on - several decades early.

one question, though, is whether snape would know who he was.

i go back and forth on how widely voldemort's birth name is known - and whether it's ever connected to him following his return to britain in the mid-1960s.

on the one hand, i think dumbledore's secrecy surrounding it is nonsensical - a substantial proportion of the death eaters were clearly at school with voldemort, and those who weren't are still usually related to these men in some way [i always think, for example, that it's much more plausible to assume that the diary horcrux was given to abraxas malfoy, and that lucius was well aware that his father and voldemort had been at school together] - but on the other, i do wonder whether snape, who comes into voldemort's orbit as - as i've said - an exception would be made privy to the information about voldemort's background which was probably an open secret among the elite male death eaters.

[which also provides an explanation for why bellatrix is so shocked to hear harry say voldemort's a half-blood in order of the phoenix, while lucius malfoy doesn't bat an eyelid.]

which is to say, i am much more taken by the idea of snape - destroyed with grief over lily's death - rocketing backwards three decades, landing in the knockturn alley of 1951, and having no idea until he's in far too deep who the softly-spoken shop-boy who offers him a cuppa will turn out to be...

[nulevhroma]

"Oh, Poor Little House" | NOCC | by nulevhroma

A forgotten but no less inspiring house in Brindleton Bay. Once upon a time, life was in full swing here, but it seems that now it is a haven for lonely people seeking peace by the sea.

Size: 20x20

Cost: §37,845

1 bedroom, 1 bathroom

I built a house in order to play off poverty, but as always it turned out to be some kind of rustic chic! but I sincerely hope you like it too

download: boosty (free)

Construction completely NO CC content!

[Need all catalogs and add-ons from the game]

Suitable for version 1.103.315.1020 and later.

In the game, click the "WITH MODS" checkbox to see this lot :)

When installing the area use the code "bb.moveobjects on"

[manic-maniac-man]

Cloak

03-04 Autumn Winter collection review

"Sparkling sensitivity to the tide of the times

Cleverly fusing Saville Row tailoring with the edgy vibe of New York's Meat Packing District, Cloak was the Big Apple's most highly anticipated new brand this season. Established by former chief pat- tem maker for Marc Jacobs Alexandre Plokhov and a graduate of design school Robert Geller, the brand boasts exquisite silhouettes and a charming chic; its talented designers are known for their skilful use of fabric and eye for crafty details.

The 03-04 Autumn & Winter collection was inspired by the pho tography of Heinrich Hauser who recorded daily life in Weimar Republic of the 1920s. The creative mood here was enhanced by the powerful backdrop of a fusion of poverty-stricken art and poli- tics. Amidst the bucolic macho style like military outer wears matched with hooded sweaters and wide tank pants, fine details like zippers and flap pockets were noteworthy. The palette consist ed of dim and gloomy shades of gray, pewter, coal, ash and black. The fall of the Iron Curtain of the late '80s and its sense of youth power and self emancipation was the theme for the 04 Spring & Summer show." -gap PRESS

[alessandro55]

Shac Chic

Innovation in the Shack-Lands of South Africa

Photographs by Craig Fraser

Thames & Hudson, London 2002, 192 pages, 28,5x28,5cm, ISBN 9780 500 511 053

euro 25,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

The images in this volume are but one aspect. The poetry, interviews, quotes, history, background pieces and graphic design all weave together to convey the texture of the experience of Cape Town's shack dwellers. Using only available light, Craig Fraser left the interiors unstyled to capture their "true beauty". But more striking is the dignity to be found in the dusty streets of South Africa's shack-lands. While these people obviously don't take pleasure in the poverty in which they live, they stand proud in the face of it. These are people who are doing the best they can with the little they have and, in the process, coming up with something aesthetically unique and fresh to offer the world.

25/07/24

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Girl He Left Behind [Part Thirteen]

Fandom: American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley, Elvis Movie 2022

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Original Female Character

Characters: Elvis Presley, Addison Goodwin, Gladys Presley, Vernon Presley, Minnie May ‘Dodger’ Presley, Red West, Sonny West, Gene Smith, Billy Smith, Original Female Characters, Colonel Tom Parker, Billy Smith, Marci Cunningham, Steve Cunningham, Jerry Schilling, Mary Jenkins, Alan Fortas, Marty Lacker, Original Male Characters, Mona Goodwin, Joe Goodwin

Word Count: 5325 // Rating: Mature

Summary: When Elvis returns home to Graceland from the Army he’s followed by the headlines ‘The Girl He Left Behind’ but what the media don’t know is that Priscilla wasn’t the first. No, that title belongs to someone Elvis will never forget.

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Graceland, Poverty, Friends to Lovers, 1950s Elvis, Bad Parenting, Surprise Surprise the Colonel Is a Colossal Prick, Parental Loss, Grief, Fun Fairs, Kissing, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Movie Nights, Arguing, Tension, Denial of Feelings, Age Gap Romance, Underage, Addison is 17 Elvis is 22, Guilt, Betrayal, Extortion, Blackmail, Jealous, Army Elvis, American Draft, US Army, Lying, Time Shift with Elvis moving to Memphis, Flashbacks, Caught

Notes: In my head the woman artist is dolly parton. its not accurate but idc

LINK TO ALL PARTS // AO3 LINK // PINTEREST LINK

TAGS - @girlblogger2002 @sania562 @caitlin1996​ @literally-just-elvis-fics @notstefaniepresley​ @artlesson8892 

Show days were full on. Addison had only been to one and somehow she felt as though she had lived through a full tour though she supposed that could have something to do with the whirlwind her mother had put her through over the past couple of weeks. They woke late the morning after and by the time they got to Atlanta they barely had time to do anything but prepare for the show that night. Addison spent most of her time with Dodger by the heated pool in their hotel whilst periodically checking in on Gladys who had informed her once Elvis was out of worrying distance that she wasn’t feeling well. She imagined it was different for Elvis and his team as they had things to do and ways to keep busy, but for her touring was a little boring. She longed to go out and explore the city. To find something that Memphis didn’t have but without her best friend to go with her she didn’t really see the point.

So after finishing her book she escorted Dodger to her room, checked in on Gladys and then headed to get ready. She was once again sharing a room with Elvis though she wasn’t sure how that had come around since she figured that someone would have gotten around to jumbling the plan back into place, but it hadn’t been done, not that she minded. Once showered she inspected her small bag of toiletries and her dress as if willing them to change into new and more exciting items. The last time she had worn her dress had been at her party and she’d had Marci on hand to make her look beautiful. Now she was left to her own devices it didn’t seem as feasible. Not to mention everyone had already seen her dress so the wow factor would be well and truly gone. Still with no other options she got dressed watching herself closely in the mirror once she was finished. She didn’t look bad, no, if anything she looked pretty but she still felt out of place. It didn’t help that she was going to have to put her cardigan and cumbersome winter coat over the top of it which didn’t exactly spell chic but rather comfort and warmth.

Once she was ready she spritzed some perfume on herself, grabbed her purse and then headed out into the long hallway where all their rooms were located. As she came out of her door Sonny came out of his grabbing her attention as he offered her a whistle.

‘Wow,’ he said, taking her in, 'you look good.’ ‘Thanks,’ she said meekly as a blush crept along her face. ‘I mean it,’ he said with a small smile which Addison returned as they started walking down the hall together. ‘Where is everyone?’ she asked. ‘EP’s got interviews downstairs so him, Red, Vernon and the Colonel are in some conference room. Everyone else is waiting to go in the lobby.’ ‘Shit, am I the last one down?’ she asked, cursing herself for having spent so long faffing over what to wear. ‘Well that depends,’ Sonny said. ‘On what?’ she asked, confused. ‘Whether you beat me through the door when we get down there,’ he said as the elevator they had been waiting for pinged open. They stepped inside and whilst Sonny pressed the button making it whir to life Addison took a moment to watch him. He was dressed more formally than she’d seen him before in a dinner jacket and slacks though his collar was open giving that hint of casualness. He looked handsome. ‘Well I’ll try not to elbow you too hard when I push you out of the way,’ she smiled. Sonny chuckled. ‘Nah you don’t have to worry about me,’ he said before adding, 'I always let the pretty ones go first.’

Before Addison could respond the door pinged open once more and Sonny gestured for her to head out which she did though she could feel her cheeks on fire. Was he flirting with her? She shook that thought from her mind as he led her to a small room off the lobby where there were several couches that everyone was lounging around on waiting to go. The boys were clustered in one corner, only missing Red, whilst Gladys and Dodger were sitting on a couch together chatting quietly. Addison made a beeline for them. Though she didn’t feel any malice about being left out of the festivities last night she still didn’t want to have her nose rubbed in it and she could hear the boys laughing and joking about the goings on at the bar they had gone to after the show.

 ‘Don’t you look spiffy?’ Dodger said as she perched on the edge of an armchair close by. ‘Thanks,’ Addison said with a polite smile, feeling that same old blush reappear, ‘you two look nice too.’ ‘Thanks darlin’,’ Gladys said with a soft smile though it didn’t quite meet her eyes. She looked worn out, the bags under her eyes were heavier today and though she had spent most of the day in bed she still looked tired. Addison frowned. ‘I said that dress would look just right on her, didn’t I?’ Dodger said gesturing to Gladys’ deep blue number. ‘You must have a knack,’ Addison giggled. ‘Shame it don’t feel right,’ Gladys said, rejigging the ruffled detailing on the front of her dress further down as if it was strangling her. ‘That’s just because you’re under the weather,’ Dodger said placing a hand on her daughter in laws knee. ‘Do you still not feel any better?’ Addison asked as her frown deepened. ‘I’m fine,’ Gladys said though her face wasn’t very convincing. ‘Are you sure?’ Addison asked. ‘I’m just a little tired,’ she said. ‘You could do with a pick me up,’ Dodger stated. ‘Want me to get you a coffee?’ Addison asked, Gladys nodded with a smile. Addison rose out of her chair smoothing her dress out as she stood but as she went to walk away she felt Gladys’ hand on her wrist and she turned to see what she wanted. ‘Actually, make it a vodka soda,’ she said with a soft smile.

Addison nodded dutifully though she didn’t want to. Elvis had expressed to her how much he didn’t like his mother’s drinking and Addison had noticed it was a lot more present in their house now than she remembered. Besides it didn’t make sense for her to be drinking especially if she didn’t feel well but she wasn’t about to tell a grown woman what to do. So she headed out into the lobby and to the adjoining bar. It wasn’t too crowded but there were a few people milling around seemingly along for the press interview Elvis was giving in the neighbouring function room. She sidled up to the bar and waited. It was deserted until a boy not much older than her came rushing towards it and slipped behind the counter quickly.

‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘It’s okay,’ Addison said kindly, ‘busy day?’ ‘Yeah feels like I’ve not stopped,’ he said resting both his hands on the bar. ‘Well thanks for slotting me into your busy schedule,’ Addison joked which made him smirk. ‘Oh I can always find time for a pretty face,’ he said leaning in towards her, ‘so what can I get you?’ ‘Um, vodka soda,’ Addison said awkwardly. She was unaccustomed to being complimented especially not twice in less than an hour. As he dutifully poured her drink out he watched her making her blush. His chocolate brown eyes sparkled a little in the ambient lighting and Addison couldn’t help but think that he was cute, in a boyish sort of way.

‘So, what brings you to Georgia?’ he asked. ‘Family trip,’ she said which was technically not a lie. ‘Oh,’ he replied. ‘What?’ she asked. ‘Nothing, I just figured you’d be here to see Elvis,’ he said with a shrug as he placed the glass down on the bar in front of her, ‘everyone else is.’ ‘Is that why it’s so busy?’ she asked feigning ignorance. ‘Yeah, some benefit concert or something. I mean other people are in it too but the hotels been crawling with chicks-’ he said correcting himself as she raised an eyebrow, ‘I mean girls like you. So I figured.’ ‘Oh yeah and what are girls like me like?’ she asked cockily enjoying watching him squirm though it didn’t last long as he leaned in towards her, resting his elbows on the bar so they were face to face. ‘Young,’ he said before looking at her flirtatiously and adding, ‘and very, very pretty.’ ‘Is that right?’ she said. ‘Yeah, why else do you think I rushed over here to serve you,’ he said. ‘Great customer service?’ she asked. ‘Nah,’ he chuckled, ‘though I’m willing to go the extra mile if you want to.’ ‘Yeah?’ Addison replied. ‘I mean if you’re interested I might be able to sneak you into the back of the press conference,’ he said, ‘it’s pretty exclusive but I’m sure I could get you in.’ ‘What makes you think I’m an Elvis fan?’ she asked. She was enjoying herself. She had seen people fawning over Elvis. She had seen the way fans went insane trying to get a piece of him and how strange it felt for her as she never saw him as anything other than himself. So seeing this boy trip over himself to win favour by using a glimpse of her best friend as bait was funny to watch. ‘Isn’t everyone?’ he asked ‘And I’m sure that’s just out of the goodness of your heart, right?’ Addison snorted making him smile. ‘Maybe,’ he shrugged, ‘but there is something you could do.’ ‘Oh yeah, what’s that?’ Addison asked. ‘Give me your number,’ he said. ‘512,’ she said quickly grabbing the glass out from in front of him as he watched her confused, ‘my room number. Add it to the tab.’

And before he could say anything she waltzed back to the room where everyone was waiting.

Meanwhile, Elvis was bored, like he always was at interviews. It was always the same questions, reporters who thought they could catch him out and use whatever he said as their shocking new headline. He was lucky today though because at his side were half a dozen or so other artists all of which were participating in the same concert. It meant he didn’t have to pay as much attention and that meant his mind had wandered back to last night. He had loved performing for Addison though he had been bummed out when she hadn’t wanted to continue the night with him. In fact, he didn’t want to continue the night either, he would have much rather gone home with her but he couldn’t exactly say no to the boys. So when he’d accidentally awoke her when he came in he had been happy that she wanted to stay up and talk with him. Even if it had left him wracking his brains into the early hours about what her favourite song of his was.  

And it had been nice to have her in his bed, even if it was innocent. He’d lay there after she’d fallen asleep just listening to her peaceful breathing contently until she’d rolled over and nuzzled into his side, her arm slung across his stomach lazily though it felt so warm against his bare skin he thought it may cause burns. He’d fallen asleep like that and even awoke the same way though he cursed himself for having to get up so she wouldn’t know. His eyes closed a tad, a smile dancing across his lips, as he recalled the way she had mumbled against him, protesting the loss of his touch when he’d moved. When he opened them the crowd of reporters was staring at him as were the Colonel’s beady eyes from the back of the room.

‘Well?’ a reporter on the front row said. He was about Elvis’ age though he looked older. His features were pinched in the middle of his face and it wasn’t relieved by the smirk that seemed to be plastered across his face at Elvis’ loss for words. ‘I’m sorry,’ Elvis said flashing the most charming smile he could muster, ‘could you repeat that?’ ‘I said it’s no secret your style of dancing has been wildly criticised. Do you have any animosity to these critics?’ he said, his smug smile never wavering. Elvis rubbed his brow and smiled. ‘Well not really. Those people have a job to do and they do it,’ Elvis shrugged. ‘And do you think you’ve learned anything from the criticism?’ he continued. ‘No I haven’t,’ Elvis said. ‘You haven’t?’ the reporter said dubiously. ‘No, well I don’t feel I’m doing anything wrong,’ Elvis said. ‘So you wouldn’t change what you’re doing?’ he asked. Elvis shook his head, ‘is that fair? I mean this concert is going to be televised. It could impact the ratings meaning less money for charity no?’ ‘With all due respect Sir,’ Elvis said leaning in a little closer to the microphone, ‘I’m sure my fans could give the critics a run for their money.’ ‘And who says they’re all tuning in to watch him,’ an elegant southern voice said a few microphones down. Elvis turned to glance at a female artist. She was petite and pretty and her comment was enough to get the reporters to lose focus on him as they rapidly fired questions at her. The reporter who had been questioning him though didn’t follow suit. He looked at Elvis with a sneer jotting something down in his notepad. Elvis smiled back smugly.

It wrapped up quickly after that and soon enough his Daddy, Red, the Colonel and him were being shepherded to a long car which was idling outside the hotel doors. As Red got into the front passenger side he climbed in one side along with the Colonel whilst his Daddy took to the other. As the Colonel took a seat beside his mother and Dodger, Elvis and Vernon slid in either side of Addison.

‘Hey,’ she said with a smile as she looked at him, ‘good interview?’ ‘Eh, it was alright,’ Elvis shrugged. ‘Would’ve been better if those reporters could learn some manners,’ Vernon said as he closed the door with a thunk. Gladys frowned. ‘What happened?’ she asked. ‘Nuthin’ just some fool reporter thinking he could intimidate me with his stupid questioning. Talking about my dancing again,’ Elvis said. ‘This again,’ Gladys sighed, ‘your talent is God-given baby! How can they not see that?’ ‘They wouldn’t know talent if it bit them on the ass,’ Dodger said rolling her eyes. Addison giggled. ‘Well he got told anyway,’ Vernon said, ‘seems our boy has another fan in one of the other acts.’ ‘Yeah she was a right feisty thing,’ Elvis chuckled. Addison kept a smile on her face though she felt it tighten just a tad at the mention of another woman. ‘Who’s that?’ she said making Elvis glance towards her. ‘One of the other artists on tonight. I don’t know her name she’s new apparently,’ Elvis shrugged making Addison’s smile become a little more genuine. ‘Well, I’m glad she’s in your corner baby. You just do like you always do tonight. They can’t complain about that,’ Gladys said. The Colonel huffed what sounded like a tight scoff from his lips which caused Elvis’ gaze to go straight to him as the pair locked eyes for a moment. He was watching his client closely as if taunting him to challenge him though hadn’t actually uttered a word yet.

‘You don’t agree?’ Elvis asked angrily looking at the Colonel who shrugged. ‘These reporters may have a point,’ the Colonel said. ‘Oh yeah and what’s that?’ Elvis replied. ‘That gigs like this aren’t your average run-of-the-mill show. Your fans come because they want to see you. The people coming tonight may be here to see you they may not but should you provoke them you may only add soldiers to their cause.’ ‘Yeah well they can think what they want,’ Elvis said, ‘everyone just needs to let me do my job.’

The car fell silent for a moment before the Colonel started talking to Vernon about a new line of Christmas merchandise as if nothing had happened. The women of the car however didn’t move on quite so quickly. Elvis could feel three pairs of eyes on him. The motherly affection of his mother and Dodger and the concern from Addison. He offered them a half-hearted smile which he was sure didn’t reassure them much and then looked out the window. He was always nervous before shows and the Colonel wasn’t helping matters. He wanted to be himself out there and more to the point his fans liked the way he acted. He just didn’t know why the Colonel cared so much about him being the way he was. He couldn’t dwell on it too long as he was distracted by Addison’s hand on his thigh. She smiled at him when he glanced at her before looking away, delving into the conversation his mother and Dodger had gotten in to, but it was enough to pull him out of his mood.

✵✵✵

The show was going great. Addison had enjoyed all of the other acts that had been on so far but she couldn’t deny that she was looking forward to Elvis’ slot. She could feel the excitement mounting as they announced him to the stage and though the other acts had been well received this was something different. The crowd broke into whoops and cheers with several girls screaming no matter what part of the song he was singing he was up to. He really could work a crowd well and he always knew just when to move a certain way or how to talk to them. And she was sure that she could see a smirk on his face just before he did anything that drove the crowd insane like he knew how he was going to affect them.

‘Uh ladies and gentlemen we, my band and I, wanna thank you all for coming out tonight. Now I know that you’re not here for us but rather for a good cause,’ he said chuckling as there were protestations from the crowd about their reason for attending, ‘but even so we appreciate it. And we’re gonna round off with one we love but first I ask you to indulge me just a little.’

As he walked over to the piano and sat down there were claps and cheers. Addison didn’t take part, instead, she was craning her neck behind Gene who was sitting in her view so she could watch Elvis closely. The crowd broke into low whispers as he started to make the piano emit the first few notes of the song as they were wondered what he was going to play but she didn’t need to. It was I Wonder Who’s Kissing Her Now. Her favourite song. Just as she remembered him playing it years before.

‘Elvis,’ she said in a sickeningly sweet voice that sounded entirely unlike her as she leant on the side of their church piano. There was a potluck going on outside but the pair of them had lost interest and decided to sneak back inside, Elvis longing to practice on the piano whilst Addison was just content at being his shadow. ‘Addison,’ he said with a coy smile as she turned to lean on it with her elbows. ‘Play me a song,’ she said. ‘What song?’ he asked as if he didn’t already know. It was one she loved to hear. One she had made him play fifty times before though he was enjoying pretending as if he didn’t know what she was referring to.

‘Oh come on,’ she said. ‘Amazing grace?’ he said smirking as her little face scrunched up with annoyance. ‘No,’ she said elongating the word. ‘His hand in mine?’ Elvis said continuing to act clueless. ‘No!’ she giggled. ‘Swing low sweet chariot?’ Elvis said. ‘Elvis!’ she said coming around to push him up on the piano stool and placing her tiny hand on his. ‘Oh this one,’ he said as his fingers started to tinkle along the ivory keys. Addison smiled up at him as he cleared his throat ready to sing. Addison enjoyed hearing him play and at that moment she needed it. She liked the song which was a good job as she had heard it countless times over the past couple of weeks since her father had taken to listening to it on a loop. Actually, he had spent most nights in the past week drinking whiskey with Vernon and listening to heartbreak records. The pain and sorrow of which he related to. Now he was outside, laughing and joking as if everything was okay when in reality she had spent the night listening to him sob about her mother leaving once again. He’d thought she couldn’t hear him, the record player covering his cries but he was wrong. So when Elvis had wanted to duck inside the church she had insisted on following him inside, knowing that he would be able to take her mind off of it and even rewrite the pain of that memory with a new one. She loved Elvis’ voice. It was soft and gravelly, especially since he had gotten a little bit older, nevertheless it was always the same comforting feeling.

That comforting feeling was there again but with it had come a surprise sorrow, one that had made tears prick her eyes threatening to spill over any moment though fortunately no one noticed her. They were too focused on watching the boys but even so she felt embarrassed and suddenly needed to get out of there. So, without a word, she stumbled past Sonny and Red and pushed her way out of the row until she was outside the concert hall in a long cool corridor. The lights were harsh against her eyes making them sting as tears began to fall over her cheeks. She closed her eyes and rested back against the cool painted brick, willing them to subside, which they did, disappearing quickly as she heard the click of a metal door opening and closing and looked up to find Sonny coming out of the hall squinting as he looked around due to the harsh white lights. As he spotted her he smiled, coming towards her as she straightened up.

‘You alright?’ he asked. Addison nodded trying to breeze past the slight sniffle that emitted out of her as she said, ‘yep.’ ‘You sure?’ Sonny asked sceptically, ‘you kinda bolted from there pretty quick-’ ‘It was a little stuffy in there,’ she lied, ‘just needed some air. I can go back in now.’ ‘There’s not much point,’ Sonny said, ‘they’re nearly done.’ ‘Right,’ she said. Sonny smiled as he slung an arm over her shoulders. ‘Come on let’s head backstage,’ he said. Addison nodded and kept by his side as they headed down the corridor to a guarded door. Sonny flashed a pass at them and they let them through without incident just in time for them to meet Elvis and the band as they came rushing off stage amped up on adrenaline and the cheers they could hear from the auditorium.

Elvis spotted her immediately causing a tidal wave of emotions to hit him. She was once again in that pretty black dress of hers, something he had not seen on the way over due to her winter coat, looking like a vision and making his blood rush southward. It was stopped though as he noted Sonny’s arm slung around her shoulders and though it looked casual enough he still didn’t like it. Without thinking he rushed toward her, his arms sweeping around her causing Sonny to take an awkward step back as he hugged her. She hugged him back watching him with a smile as she pulled back.

‘What did you think?’ he asked. ‘I loved it,’ she said, ‘thank you.’ ‘Well, it’s been a while since we changed up the setlist. I figured now was as good of a time as any,’ he said with a grin. ‘Yeah well you didn’t need to,’ she said. ‘I wanted to,’ he replied, she could feel his thumb brushing along her back in small circles which sent a shiver down her spine. ‘I know,’ she giggled, ‘but you didn’t need to because you already played my favourite.’ ‘What?’ he asked perplexed. He had wracked his brains for hours, even gone out of his way to get the boys on board with a new song and he had missed the obvious. ‘I mean it wasn’t my favourite rendition,’ she smirked, ‘I prefer acapella myself.’ ‘Acapella? Oh. Damn how can I be so dense!’ he said with a hearty laugh as he clicked on what she had meant. The set list had covered his singles but they had thrown a nod to some of the B-sides including her only request, First in Line. As she threw her head back in a laugh he couldn’t even feel angry at being so stupid. Instead, he watched her with a smile. People were coming into the room thick and fast now but neither of them seemed to care. Though they had to let one another go so Elvis could be thanked for his performance by various event managers they never strayed far from one another. Addison remained by his side, navigated wherever they went by Elvis’s hand on her waist.

✵✵✵

Addison was lost in sleep and though she could hear a gentle thunking just outside in the realm of consciousness she couldn’t pull herself out until she heard Elvis’ voice. When she opened her eyes she found herself in bed alone though she could hear running water nearby and the bathroom door was closed signalling Elvis was up and showering. As the knocking came back she heard him call once more, ‘Addie can you get that? It’s room service.’ ‘Okay,’ she called though it was punctured by a yawn.

As she climbed out of bed she shivered, her thin night dress not fending off the morning chill in the air now that she was out from under the covers. She looked around the room for something to cover up with but found nothing, immediately cursing herself for not dressing more warmly. Last night she had been a different person. Since the diner she had felt the shift in her and Elvis’ relationship but that night it seemed to have gone even further. After the concert, they headed to a bar to celebrate. His family and management had headed back to the hotel whilst him, Addison and the boys had found a place to enjoy themselves. They spent the night by one another’s side, talking in hushed whispers and giggles, their touches lingering a little longer than normal. It had been wonderful. And then when they’d come back to the room they’d spent most of the wee hours talking in bed. Addison had opted to wear a skimpy night dress, the alcohol in her brain suggesting teasing him might be a good way to get him to kiss her, but it had never come. Now she was cursing her drunk self for not wrapping up as she walked to the door and pulled it open.

‘Hi 512,’ the boy said with a smile, the bartender from yesterday. He was standing with a trolley in front of him, plates covered over with silver dishes though they didn’t protect the smell of French toast from wafting into her nostrils. ‘Hi,’ she said feeling a little self-conscious as his eyes travelled down her body, lingering on her cleavage before they came back up to her face. ‘Can I come in?’ he asked and she nodded, holding onto the door as he walked the trolley in and set it up. ‘I thought you were a bartender,’ she said as he turned around, flashing her a pearly white smile. ‘Jack of all trades,’ he said, ‘especially when I hear there’s an order for 512.’ ‘Ah so this is you going the extra mile?’ she said. ‘Well you left without tipping yesterday,’ he said coming towards her and standing by the door frame. He was looking down on her though she didn’t feel intimidated. In fact, she didn’t feel anything. She could hear the shower cut off and sounds of movement in the bathroom and she was acutely aware that she wanted him gone before Elvis came out.

‘Well this is on the tab as well I’m afraid,’ she said, ‘and I don’t carry cash with me.’ ‘I suppose your number will just have to do,’ he said just as Elvis stepped out of the bathroom. ‘Hey we get-’ he started though he stopped as he noted the other man in the room. He was wearing just a towel, drips from his head trailing down his torso but Addison couldn’t look instead she dropped her gaze to the door handle her hand was resting on, ‘there a problem?’ ‘No,’ she said, ‘foods here.’ ‘Yeah I can see that,’ he said tersely. ‘I just need a tip,’ she said. ‘My wallet is on the dresser,’ Elvis said moving into the room to grab some clothes. Addison flitted from the door and grabbed his wallet pulling a couple of bills out of it before she headed back to where the man was standing watching them both curiously. ‘Here,’ she said thrusting them into his hand. She could feel Elvis’ eyes on her as he leant in, dangerously close and said with derision, ‘I thought you weren’t a fan.’

Before she could say anything in response he headed out closing the door a little rougher than expected and when she turned around Elvis had his pants on, having slipped them on under his towel, and was now buttoning up a light blue shirt watching her closely.

‘Who was he?’ he asked as Addison diverted her gaze and started moving the plates to the small dining table they had on the other side of the room. ‘Just a bartender,’ she said. ‘Who does room visits?’ Elvis said, fiddling with his shirt cuffs. ‘Who knows how they work,’ she shrugged as she placed two plates out on the table. Elvis moved to come and sit in the chair opposite her, leaning back against the chair casually, his arm on the table. He wanted to ask her what was going on – how he knew that boy. But he couldn’t. He knew how jealous he would sound if he did and he had to be careful.

Because last night he had lost himself. He hadn’t cared about how anything looked and for a moment he had forgotten they weren’t a couple. He didn’t know why he had gone so full-on though he suspected it was the fact that seeing Sonny with his arm around her had made his blood boil. Seeing her with that nobody had done the same thing. Yet he had to reassure himself. Though they weren’t together neither of those men had her as he did. After all she wasn’t sitting eating breakfast with them, sleep in her eyes but a smile on her face as she caught him watching her scoff down French toast. They hadn’t spent the night talking with her or had her pressed up against them their fingers dancing under the chiffon that barely covered her thighs as she allowed them to hold her. No that had been him.  

He was being dangerous he knew that, but he didn’t have the heart in him to care. He was going to enjoy it.

[daddyd0nt]

Every time a Nicole/Ginger/Ethel gets outed as having come from money while playing up poverty chic she should have to give all her money to me and my broke-ass disabled friends and that should be a law

[pacifymebby]

what does common people esque mean lol

It's in reference to this song about a girl Jarvis Cocker (more middle class than you'd all like to believe btw, his mother ran to be a Tory councillor not that long after this song was released) met whilst at art school (see he was literally at arts school!! We aren't worried about him social climbing)

Anyway the jist of the song is touching on a phenomena in western culture which was big in the 90s and returns in fashion often (it's doing the rounds a bit now but it's on its way out)

In the 90s we had heroin chic which was like, skinny models dressed like they were on heroin. You also had poverty chic which was rich thin beautiful people being photographed in scratty council estates or in traditional working class environments.

It's essentially to do with the fact that most cool shit starts in working class culture and then gets picked up and made expensive (carhartt is traditionally the American working class mans jacket but now it costs hundreds and they sell it to posh boys in urban outfitters)

Anyways sorry I'm ranting so hard, it's such a massive thing in Britain and I'm quite passionate about it haha

In the song the very rich girl has lived a life of privelige she "will never understand how it feels to live your life with no meaning or control and with nowhere else to go" and to her poverty is this cool outfit she can try on for s day by shagging a working class lad from Sheffield who is roughing it in London. BUT the song is about how she will never be able to understand what it's really like

The chorus is

"cut your hair and get a job, rent a flat above a shop, smoke some fags and play some pool pretend you never went to school but still you'll never get it right cause when you're laying in bed at night watching roaches climb the walls if you call your dad he can stop it all"

Like she's never going to understand Jarvis Cocker/the lad in the song because she's never going to understand what it's like to be trapped by poverty. When you're poor there's nothing else, it consumes your whole life, there's no escaping it, no one to borrow money from, no family home to go back to and not have to worry, because your parents are poor too and theyd love to help you but the best they can do is put the roof over your head etc.

But in the UK especially (I've seen this loads at uni) you get middle class kids who really really want to seem cool, so they copy working class accents, they wear the clothes, they try to lie about the place they grew up, they try to make out like they were hard up too, or they make friends with working class kids to feel like they're part of it too.

Because for as shit as it is being poor, Sam Fenders right when he says that thing about how it's hard to write a good song from your parents villa in France.

Working Class has ALWAYS fuelled popular culture. Mary Quant was a working class girl, she revolutionised popular culture with the mini skirt and set a ball rolling that literally never stopped, working class in music gave us the Beatles, oasis, grime, punk to name a few, football culture is largely working class, the soaps are about the working class... The rich copy the poor all the time and that's genuinely what makes pop culture go round. So middle class kids will always be there preying on working class kids for clout.

That's what common people esque means haha

In short though it means that a trip to Aldi/Lidl/Asda is tourist activity akin to fucking Disney Land for middle class London raised children haha

[puella-peanut]

Magpie

Written for the @allvalley100 Word Drabble Challenge. This time it was “Vogue.” 100 words as counted by A03 Drafts. Third fill.

…

Once Terry knows the rules, changing himself is easy enough. Thing is, there aren’t any rules.

(But there’s always someone else to be.)

He’s got a knack for it too, collecting scraps and pieces of people—amassing closets of different personalities, pastimes. Hobbies, careers. 

Tailoring the measurements for the required occasion. Cutting the cloth to fit so he wears their most interesting, en vogue fabric. Socially acceptable skin.

(…Mostly.)

.

.

.

Terry grins in the mirror.

His buddy’s inspired this current ensemble. Worn jeans, unassuming demeanor. Poverty-chic.

Revenge looks good. Feels great!

Shit, whoever thought a faux-Sensei look could be so…flattering?

(i changed my hairstyle

so many times now

i don’t know what i look like)

—life during wartime, talking heads