alex williamson, boo williamosn, the boohemian
The Middle Page

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Shirt, Theyskens’ Theory, SIMILAR HERE // Shorts, FRAME// Belt, HERMES // Booties, ASH // Bag, vintage SIMILAR HERE // Arm Band, no idea SIMILAR HERE // Earrings (unavailable), ACCESSORY CONCIERGE // Hat, GOORIN BROS

Let me start by saying the reason the girl in the photos looks so happy is because the light isn’t turned on all the way upstairs. It’s easy to look like you’re having fun when you aren’t thinking about anything. The joys of being ditzy, the chronicles of floozy. My brain is fried, friends. And I would love to say it’s due to too much fun had in a past life or infinite hours spent partying on tour buses with rock stars, but unfortunately I’m just this way from feeling a bit frazzled and tired. You know those people who you meet and they are cute because they are a little dingy? Like, they are a little out of it but in a totally endearing, want to include them in everything because it’s easy to be around them sort of way? Well… not me. When I get out of it, it is “gone, girl” status. I’m talking eyes glazed over, no idea what conversation we are having, trying to remember to smile so I seem like I’m with ya (or anywhere really) when my brain is actually flatlining. And it seems like this always happens during the weeks when I have lots of events or am needing to engage in life instead of zombie two-stepping my way through my day.

So instead of trying to entertain you with something– anything— that will come to mind this week, let’s talk about nothing. Let’s shoot the fashion shit, shall we?

I don’t squeal over clothes often, but I lost my cool over these booties back in April. I was foot modeling for Neiman’s. (Anyone reading this with a foot fetish is probably trying to scroll around and find photos of my feet). My feet aren’t anything to write home about, I just have chinchilla-like toes that can squish and fluctuate about two sizes. (Suddenly the foot fetish reader is completely grossed out, rapidly clicking out of this blog post). Back to the bootie–these were the “finale” shoe in the Ash show. They were so spectacular I created a google alert on them so I could sit back and comfortably snag the first pair. In my impractically anxious mind, thousands of other people were standing outside the department store like it’s the day after Thanksgiving, ready to go all Jay Z and Solange in the elevator and fight over these shoes. Thanks to google alert, victory was mine. Anyway, the day of this shoot, I forgot socks and wore them for so long that my feet were stained jet black for three days. So if you buy these shoes, take it from me and wear socks.

Jean shorts will be a very difficult wardrobe piece for me to retire for fall and winter. Spoken like a true fashionista, am I right? Jean shorts and ribbed tank tops = trendsetter. But truthfully, they are my very favorite way to combat Texas heat. However, I’m grateful the weather is about to cool down, because it’s time to wrangle all my jean shorts up and throw them in the wash (I know, as Jimmy Fallon says, EWWW). I’m boring myself with all this talk of nothing, so I’m going to speed it up.

I’m not one for labels. I have this weird hipster mentality that I’d rather look like I bought something from a consignment store than off the rack. Hermes belts (and Balenciaga bags) are the exception. In my humble opinion (which we’ve already verified is one of a bonafide fashionista), these are legends for a reason. The reversible strap makes the flashy “H” completely worthwhile. Two belts in one? Lazy girl’s guide to polish– I’ll take eight, please.

And lastly, the hat. I can’t find it online, but I got it at the Goorin Bros store in Austin. I was looking for a replacement baseball cap and strolling around the store with this hat on my head. When I got to the register, the salesgirl in a massive wide-brimmed hat asked me if I wanted to buy the one I was wearing. I impulsively agreed after glancing at the price of the baseball hat. When she gave me the total, I’m pretty confident my jaw dropped. But instead of being an adult and casually saying that I didn’t want the hat, I went into this childlike state that happens to me at the register and always makes me spend more than I originally intended. I swear there must be some psychology study about register transactions. I’m the ultimate codependent sucker. I see the excitement in someone’s eyes when they are helping me. You know, the commission excitement. And for that brief moment, I feel important. They need me. It feels good to be needed. If I don’t buy what she’s selling, I’m going to let the team (me and the sales associate in the massive wide-brimmed-hat) down. Like she’ll tell on me if I don’t do it. And not just one item, I feel as if I’m going to be the last kid picked for kickball if I don’t buy everything. So I buy it all. Blowing through a week’s paycheck? Pshh– no big deal– I’m keeping someone else employed. Then I leave the store and my new best friend behind and feel like my bank account and my soul were violated. So for the sake of maintaining healthy relationships, I usually just prefer to stay out of clothing stores. And on that topic, I’m spent.

Lights Out,

Alex (Boo)

Photos by the incredibly talented Mary Summers //