When I was young I thought all artistas were naturally blessed with full ravenous hair. The world was simply unfair.
But as I grew up I became aware that the world is, in reality, a stage, and it puts huge premium on appearances. SHOCKER. But it doesn't mean in any way that image plays a central role in my life. Only artistas are allowed to be that way. Hihi.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I figured a shortcut to escaping from the way I would normally look three hundred and sixty five days a year (Yes, I just spelled that out.)
So... enter clip on extensions, the magical product for that "head full of hair" look.
I love them so much I had a ball flipping my (fake) hair, praying for wind to blow through them ala Farrah Fawcett.
Sigh. Where my genes fell short, this hair appendage more than made up for.
(Jacket: SM . Blouse: Zara. Shorts: Mossimo. Shoes: Charles & Keith)
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