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I’ve been thinking about a conversation I had with a friend the other day, about the types we decide we are, and what we dress those types with. Based on what we believe ourselves to be, or what others convince us we are, or whatever outside comes closest to matching what’s inside us. I remember a dress I wore when I was young, that I adored because I could twirl in it again and again. I was devastated when I was told to change at the end of the day, but mostly because of the movement we—the body and the dress—could make together. But I was also mostly raised by a single father, and so I also longed for the day when I could adore myself with the menswear accessories. When I wear makeup, I think less of it as legitimizing myself as feminine as I do something I’d wear on stage, a costume, a playful experiment with colors and shine. Makeup is as much a suit of armor as a tailored jacket. Dandyism is also where it’s at. @narsissist @fluevog @fentybeauty @ciatelondon @beautiesltd @goorinbros #whendragisateachingmoment #forstudentandteacher

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