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2 Aug

Birds Of Feather Massacre Swan Lake Together


This afternoon, I took 237 photos of myself in tutus. Red ones, black ones, yellow ones; with shoes, without shoes; with leotard, with tank tops; standing close to the mirror, standing as far away from the mirror as possible without making it look like the tutu wasn’t so much tutu as it was epic muffin-top… in every single one, with the possible – possible – exception of the one above, I look like a giant, drunk flightless bird.

It’s going to be a long week. Worth it, yes. But long. Also, scratchy.