Last Thursday, meanwhile, marked the twenty first birthday of yours truly. Now therein holds some progression. No longer will you see a whiny, drunken and cigarette-puffing Emma collapsing on surprisingly tolerant friend's doorsteps with bleeding legs. Those lovely, lovable friends needn't even give me another thought until 2028, when I will likely have a midlife crisis resulting in similar, if less excusable, antics. Yep, I'm t-w-e-n-t-y-o-n-e. I'm MATURE. Finally, I can legally drink in the US of A, have sex with a porcupine in Japan and drop an exploding shit bomb on John Howard’s doorstep - just for oldtime’s sake.
Bat mask made using some cardboard and the glasses that Dom gave me at our last vintage sale. Bat around the neck from the $2 store.
Top was a donation from my Mum. Bat wings are made out of an umbrella from the op shop. Skirt is an op shop dress all pinned up.
Shoes are old and belt is from a charity shop in England. OH, and my WATCH was a birthday gift from Mr. Bobby. AMAZING.