hi. my name is sallie forrer, and i am not a witch.

Well, maybe I am.
I thought I should introduce my face to this here bloggy blog. Hello blog. This is me. And despite my feverish gesticulations with twigs, stringing together some vaguely Latin inspired words, and poking and prodding at newts, I am, as of yet, not a witch. However, I have been inspired to dress like one lately.
Today I wore a blanket / shawl. The impetus for this being me moaning and groaning about the house (a witch, no - but perhaps a ghost?) this morning, not wanting to go to work, and finally I called out to the man of the house "why don't I own a poncho?!?"
To which he thoughtfully replied, "I don't know - why don't I own a poncho?" (Uh oh! I know what someones getting for Christmas! Twinzies...)
Anyway I instead decided to throw this blankety item I bought from UO to keep the chill of the A/C off of my shoulders while at work over me and added this bestial belt and some shoesies. And I was off. On my broom In my car.

Wearing: UO blankety shawl thing, Anthropologie wolfman belt, Levi's Mom-butt high-waist jeans, Jeffrey Campbell clogs

I usually end up throwing some sort of blanket/shawl over me while at work anyway - since I get very cold - so I figured I might as well style it into some sort of outfit.

So full disclosure here: I really am not a witch (yes I am) but maybe it is just this Autumn-y time of year (its still really freaking hot) that has me thinking of cloaking myself (no seriously, I'm sweating) in layers and adding voluminous elements (to hide all the tacos I eat) to create a different silhouette (taco belly). Regardless I like the slightly mysterious "how does that woman use her arms" sort of feeling it gives. Answer: I don't. I'm typing this with my nose (see: witch). Plus, yesterday while at the Walgreens picking up the necessities and in full on drapey mode some fine gentleman, who wasn't creepy at all, stopped me and said, "You look so familiar, are you Russian?"
I didn't know if I reminded him of his babushka wearing grandmother or his mail-order bride who used him as a ticket to the U.S. then ditched his creepster ass. My thigh-high stockings and smudgy red lipstick leads me to think it was probably the latter.
p.s. I really am planning on giving ya'll (note: non-ironic use of ya'll) a post on things I am making very soon - since that is really what I want this blog to be about - not whatever asshole outfit I put together or my latest gripes about the 90's fashion trends. Okay bye!

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