Jay-Z at SoFi and the 405 is doing everything it can to make me late. This top felt like a genius idea until my driver gave me a look — tell me I still pull it off?
Jay-Z at SoFi and the 405 is doing everything it can to make me late. This top felt like a genius idea until my driver gave me a look — tell me I still pull it off?
Can't sleep, and my body refuses to settle down either. The sheets are a mess and honestly, so am I — get in here.
My Chemical Romance is doing the whole Black Parade at the Bowl and I've already lost my voice screaming along. This jacket is the only thing I've kept buttoned — come find me in the crowd?
Wine's poured, boots are half-laced, and Bonnie Raitt at the Pantages isn't going to wait for me. This flannel was buttoned a minute ago, I swear — come finish the job?
Basement at the Shrine in twenty minutes and I'm already this worked up in the bathroom mirror. The pit is going to ruin this skirt — come find me in it?
Kacey at Crypto.com Arena tonight and apparently the whole outfit is boots and a hat — everything else lost the argument. Tell me I can still walk in like this.
Charli XCX at the Forum means this vintage shop owns my whole afternoon — and I just found a slip dress that's barely a dress at all. Tell me I should wear it straight out of here.
Sex Pistols at the Palladium tonight, so I'm burning the pre-show energy off on the trail instead of pacing my apartment. Round one goes to the hill. Bet you'd still be on the first switchback.
Four outfits on the floor and Peaches hasn't even opened doors at the Fonda yet. The jeans won, the top is still up for debate — tell me which half stays on.
Horses are fed, gates are locked, and the tailgate won — the flannel is technically still on. Come sit with me?