Keep on reading for ThunderKitKat's little short-story surprise... or scroll to the bottom for details on the look. ~Jackie ;)
(Hello lovelies, ThunderKitKat again... I've had wayyyy too much time in my hands so I wrote the following piece of crap. It's a worthless read but I'm uploading it because... well, there's nothing fucking else to do. Hope you guys are having a better time than I am. Pleeeeaseee be nice - troll, get the fuck out of my comments, you're not welcome - and... let's just get this shit over with.)
The Smile of Narcissus
Mirror and image! His eyes took in the proud
bearing of that figure there at the blue water's
edge; with and outburst of rapture he told
himself that what he saw was beauty's very
essence; form as divine thought, the single and
pure perfection which resides in the mind, of
which an image and likeness, rare and holy, was
here raised up for adoration
~ Thomas Mann, Death in Venice
Everything starts as it should. A young girl, obviously insecure (because what woman with an ass isn't?) and genuinely, therefore stupidly, infatuated with a tall figure that nurtures the mystery intertwined in his hair and the pen attached to his fingers. Quite plain, like the heroine of any female novel; Jane Eyre, cursed by the cloak of physical mediocrity and invisibility. Sometimes, because of her meek nature, she took ease and warmth from it, but mostly, it was just the intolerable weight of not being. Lost in the absence of recognition. So, the day that her cliche of a love interest glanced over at her, she fell in love with the mirror.
They started dating, for a lack of better language. She lost her virtue to him, although, to her it was almost like handing off a ticking bomb that finally let her shoulders rest in the place they belonged. Her virginity, one less roll of the boulder. She never understood the obsession with sex, she felt as if everyone was in on a secret that never became a whisper. Tori much rather enjoyed closing her eyes and thinking of a distinctive feature of a person, like Jess’s freckles, Dany’s side smile dimple, Jaime’s laughter, or even Sebastian’s hands as they accidentally brushed across an unexpected patch of her skin while fucking, and slowly start fondling at her belly buttom until her fingertips found their way to the bow at the rim of her underwear that led the way to her clitoris.
Being with Sebastian was also enjoyable to her, but in a very different way. Offering her body as the solemn oblation to his pleasure gave her faith, meaning. That she was able to create the final wrinkle between his incredibly alluring eyebrows made her feel the being part of a human ( something similar to what Hitler must have felt as he turned air into speech). In exchange, because everything is a trade off, he gave her sleep. Caressing her flying baby hairs until she could confuse it as being loved and then she dreamt. She had written down every dream of every encounter with Sebastian. That day was different though, Tori created his furrow but he didn’t grant the dole. Just like that, she understood she had nothing else to offer. What else does a woman have? Throughout her lifetime, no one had taught her of any other valuable possession to own, but her body. Few girls were blessed by biology with beauty, but not her, and if her warm shell wasn’t enough for him anymore, then she had to go back to the dreamless blanket.
She solemnly walked from his car to her only other lover, the framed reflection in her room. And while staring at Andromeda between her eyelashes, she thought about every girl that seemed to have given Sebastian something beyond their bodies. She thought about Julia, Nat, Dua, Cathryn, Em, Jackie, Pau and their air of beauty that to him were seraphic, mystical, outside the realms of death. Inmortal. Tori couldn’t see it; but, to her, it must have been real because she felt it irradiate from Sebastian as he admired them for hours, with no passing time. She stared, as the lost time swam in the movements of the jellyfish and her thoughts bounced in the sting of their dangling lappets, until she recognized herself in every one of them and as she thought of Narcissus, her reflection spoke in silk. Her voice was inviting, like the ripples and the light of the water in a pool, but the words were as frightening as the unseeable depths of the open sea. It offered her the flame of beauty in a blink, in exchange for her sleep. Tori hesitated for an impalpable second, but took it.
She woke up, Ericka, and the first thing she noticed were her tiny new pink nails, incapable of dirt. She ran to her friend, to catch a glimpse of herself, and as she did, she remembered the meaning of poetry. Dark honeycomb curls floating around her perfect face, like a veil of toasted gold. Defined thick brows, framing the darkest of gazes with specks of sun. Eyelashes like wings of hummingbirds, painting untold myths. Her skin, as bright and as sinless as snow but not quite as white. If her perfectly rounded chin could be picked apart, it could have been the most beautiful translucent peachy pearl. Straight nose, proportionate to everything else, slightly pointed upwards at the tip, followed by a dip, into probably the Bow of Cupid. Lips and cheeks of sunset. A mouth so adorable that innately rendered a sense of sensuality, only made to be kissed. Her jawline defied gender and her once fear of turning profile disappeared into obsession. As she undressed, she suddenly became shy and flushed as she realized that she was having erotic thoughts of herself because, for the first and only time, she was looking through the eyes of a stranger. No time to float in the flowing flow of flaws. She had a long lean neck that harmoniously became a deep collarbone. Her body was marble. Lines that danced to create rounded hills with tiny pink puffy blossoms. Her hips, with Saturn’s rings between them, flickered. Everything about her, from her limbs to her feet, was deliciously expressive and she cried; finally comprehending the wickedness of beauty, an expression understood but never told. Everything, in a complete void. Words never thought. A universe without consciousness. A miracle for no one. And a text from Sebastian appeared. He wanted to meet Tori at the Monument of Revolution at 7:00pm.
Ericka was there at quarter to time, knowing well that he would be there reading. She sat close enough to him so that he would notice her but far enough to appear indifference. She had a book to read, and it took him less than the time it took her to turn the page to find her. And there it was, what she had always desired, the impossible longing of his eyes that reduced her outside her thoughts.
Within the thin light between night and day, he went up to her and asked her what she was reading, to which she responded with a smile, familiar, frank, alluring, quite long and profound, but equally tormented. The known wrinkle was born between Sebastian’s brows. Ericka had sown in him the seed of her poem and slowly got up and walked away. If Mann in her hand was right, Sebastian would say the absurd and sacred words that condemn humanity; and in the, now, reign of darkness, she was Tori without sleep.
ThunderKitKat
Hey there! Jackie again, explaining what just happened, as I understand it might be a little confusing... The story above is my rendition of what I think might be going on inside Kat's mind, therefore the intro and the ThunderKitKat user. In Euphoria, it's explained that Kat writes fanfictions and short stories within a writing website, where she has quite a substantial following, and this would be one of them. The pictures are not really related to the storyline, they're just the pictures of the outfit inspired by the character; which, I'll be discussing down below.
This is Kat, an 18 year-old high school student at East Highland struggling with her body image and identity. In my opinion, during the first season of this amazing show, she's looking to change her reputation and have more control over the opposite sex, in order to hide her personal insecurities, so she turns to porn. A place where she thinks she can now own herself and her new apperance, as KittenKween, the sex worker.
Her style changes from conservative, smart and cute, at the beginning of the season, to a more rebellious look by the end. Most of her outfits include bold accessories related to bondage such as harnesses, chokers and latex; followed by heavier makeup with an intense color palette, to match her new personality.
This specific picture is taken of her first apperance in her new aesthetic and it served me as my inspiration image.
My Look Diary
1) Basic White Tee - Mine is the Slub Cotton-Modal Scoop-Neck T-Shirt from Banana Republic
2) Skin-tight Denim Overalls - Mines are from H&M, which are no longer in stock, but here's another dress option that I think would be really cute: Strappy Denim Dress
3) Black Bustier - I have no idea where I got mine but that's what Victoria's Secret is for, here's a really beautiful one: Unline Lace-up Bustier
4) Edgy Boots - My boots are London Rebel but here's a super cute pair of lace-up boots from H&M: Suede Ankle Boots
5) Green Sparkly Smokey Eye - I used the Electric Palette from Urban Decay
6) Bold Red Lip - My beautiful Velvet Ribbon Lipstick from The True Velvet Collection by Lisa Eldridge
7) Chunky Accessories - I would have added a choker like the Crossed Chain Choker from Forver21
I guess I'm back... Thank you for reading! I'll see you soon.
Stay Curious.
Jackie
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