A Volcanic Ensemble, For Annie.

To kick things off, I should probably mention that this post is dedicated to my beloved cat, Annie.

A volcanic ensemble (to use a Ducky-ism) can be composed of a variety of diverse and eclectic (preferably eccentric) pieces. Viable contenders for Epic Volcanic Ensemble Composition include those fabulously tacky necklaces your mom wore in the early 80s, that jacket with the too-big arms that your dad got in Nepal that you originally hated and now love, an absurd hat that smells like moth-balls that your grandma dug out of her attic, and, in this case:



TOTALLY AWESOME WARHOL GRANNY SHORTS.

I've had a love/hate relationship with these babies for the longest time. I was smitten after seeing them on the rack at the local thrift store, yet after a year it's been a quest of epic proportions to figure out just how to make the stupid things fit properly. Thanks to a good amount of butterfly clips and safety pins (because I'm actually the laziest person alive and sewing silk is just way too much effort and probably out of the limited reaches of my sewing expertise) I think I've finally worked out a good system.



They're zany and obnoxiously colorful (in accordance with the Color-Conscious Pact of Last Post) and just the right type of weird and guys...they have soup cans on them...I doubt it gets any better than that. Plus, Warhol! It's almost better than the new Lady Gaga video, although granted much less weird and Tarantino-reference loaded...but hey, pop culture reference nonetheless.



Sunday Night Procrastination has been in full effect since 8:00 this evening, but I can't really bring myself to do anything about it. My mind is too filled with everything else I'd rather be doing (also, pity me. I have to make up gym class during every single one of my free periods this week. Death. Spring break cannot come sooner. April 17th is too far away.). My mind is lingering on the summer and the promise of sunshine and adventure, writing and actually producing a product (during said summer), and college, the dreaded all-consuming conversation topic of junior year. I know where I want to go, so why can't I apply now and save all the needless worry (grrrrrr *stressed junior near the end of her rope*)!



(shorts: vintage, top: random gift, tights: Target, shoes: Payless)

But, as with most things, the promise of spring and some really fabulous Warhol soup can shorts can brighten even the most unshakable Sunday Blues.