It's that time of the year. The time I start contemplating some serious makeovers. Maybe it's the anticipation of spring weather approaching or my co-dependent relationship with Pinterest, but I'm at a point where I've been asking myself some serious (-ly disturbing) questions:
"Hey guys, can I rock some blue highlights?"
"I wonder what a nose piercing would look like..."
"At what point does my hair become short enough that I resemble a boy?"
Answers I've received (and tend to agree with): No, bad, and anything above the shoulders.
I think it's about time I acknowledge the title of my blog by wearing some pants whose style is, well, exactly my blog's name. The Flare, meet Flare Jeans. Play nice, you two.
You'd think I'd be compelled to wear these jeans more often considering they could be a key player in spreading The Flare's name.
[Insert, a realistic guess of how the conversation would ensue]
"Hey, nice pants!"
"Thanks! They're my favorite flare jeans."
"Awesome! Well I've got to run. I'll see ya-"
"SPEAKING OF FLARE..."
Unfortunately, the genes I was given at birth (pun absolutely intended) make it difficult to pull off such a style without the help of about four inches in heel. And we all know running across campus in heels only results in cramped calves and me sitting down for class completely out of breath.