Thoughts of Pretty

Natural beauty takes the cake. 

I never remember myself being particularly apt in fashion as a kid. In fact, I was the farthest from dashing and refused to listen to my mother's pleas, regardless of the fact that she was always right. I often threw on an old school t-shirt, runners and ill-fitting jeans and headed on my jolly way.  I was the creator of mini worlds - often building forts and imagining alternative stories. I think that this is from where my newfound love for photography (and the like) has stemmed. It's funny how we fall into our loves as we grow older and that they so marvellously reflect our tendencies in childhood. I'm not sure what all of my fort building, play writing, and costume making will do in contribution to my future, but I'm convinced that everything will fall into place as it was meant. 

I saw a girl the other day - the fresh and so unforgiving age of thirteen - who so blatantly reminded me of Penny Lane. Fur coat and all, she awaited her ride home from elementary school. I know her, she is sweet and funny and possibly as gawky as I was in my earlier years (and also a little disagreeable at times to tell the truth.) I remember noticing, not her coat or hooped bamboo earrings or funny little running shoes, but her shyness and strange naivety. I couldn't quite figure her out. She was like a little women fixed inside a young girl, so removed from the surrounding chatter of her classmates. 

Penny Lane, I thought. 

I wish I had her sense of style when I was her age.