I should start with why I'm here. I have been enraptured by the Lolita fashion, specifically Sweet Lolita, for a good six months, though I've loved the aesthetic for far longer, before I knew its name. When I first saw it, I knew it was for me. A strange little girl, half trapped in a dreamworld of her own creation, a sixteen year old who still believed in faeries, Santa Claus, and Disney worthy happy endings. To dress like a princess, decked out in ribbons, fluff, and yards upon yards of lace, that was how I was meant to look. And a Lolita lifestyle, that was how I was meant to live. I was already the strange girl who embroidered in class, who knitted during lunch, and strongly argued the existence of unicorns and Wonderland. I though my transition would be relatively easy.
I was wrong. The cost, while daunting, is bearable, especially to a girl who adores sewing and designing. My friends weren't a problem, either. Contrarywise, they outright support my wish to dress like a frilly cupcake. One is even a so-called closet lolita herself, of the Gothic and Punk variety. And public reactions? Who cares! It might be strange, but not the worst thing I worn in public. I'm the die hard Renfester, who wears elf ears to school, and spent several months dressed as Katniss. By now, my school is sort of used to my eccentricities. No, it's my parents who block the pathway to the golden gate of Lolitadom (Is there such a thing? If so, WHERE?!?). Or more specifically, my mother. She thinks its a costume, and a obsession. And while yes, I'm more than a little obessed, unlike so many other phases this is one I don't see fading away. I can imagine myself in forty years, a world renowned geneticist who frills up with petticoats, and drinks tea in a garden. And lolita is not a costume, as so many lolis know. But convincing my mother is near impossible!
Thus, I'm starting this blog, as a way to help me achieve my goal of becoming a Lolita, hopefully a lifestyler, to track my progress and leave it as a guide for other newbies in the future.
(Enter cliche pleading for help) So if anyone has advice, ideas, or a word that begins with the letter M (murder, matrimony, malice), leave it behind!
To conclude this post, I have a poem I wrote about a year ago.
When you see me,
You see a girl who dares to dream
I am the girl who longs to be free
To go where the dreamers reign supreme
I long to break my cage,and touch the sky
To run on cloud, hear a flower’s song
To dance with faeries, kiss reality good bye
And enter the world where I belong
To leave the Real World’s sight
Enter a place where wishes come true
To leap into endless flight
Into a spinning sky of blue
To chase the sun of dreams burning bright
To sleep with stars, and shine at night
To be where the sun is bright
And the stars gleam as strong as night
To fly wherever the wind may blow
Embrace myself, let my true form show
To shed my tired soul, my mortal skin,
Reality’s grip is growing thin
Come join the sky, the sparrow sings
As I, the dreamer, unfold my wings.
-Lily
No comments:
Post a Comment