Secretly, I am a 15 year old girl who likes scrutinising people’s outfits.
This is why I watch Fashion Police on E!. Whenever I can. Which is whenever I remember, which is never. Though in my defence: I do not like the leathery, blond lady who thinks herself witty for declaring someone looks like a dyke. Joan Rivers? Yes. Her. After shouting everyone down with some “hilarious comments”, she and some other randoms pick apart outfits, deciding what works and why, and what should have been done to rescue the outfit (omg!). It’s quality TV, and I like it.
….Yes I “haz a dumb”, but we knew this already!
I also take this love of ~FASHION OMG~ to the internet, and used to have a couple of fashion blogs that I subscribe to. Thing is, there aren’t any that I like in particular, apart from Fashion Bloggers, Why!?, which hasn’t been updated in yonks. This is because all fashion blogs have these in common:
- Pigeon-toed (THERE WILL BE PIGEON TOEEESSSS.)
- In fact, classic pretend-model pose = Hands on waist + pigeon-toed + head down, in PIGEON TOE admiration. Laughing to yourself is optional (because PIGEON TOES are funny). Just so long as you look weak and demure! I hate this to death.
- Outfits that would look ridiculous in real life AND/OR outrageous sluttiness.
- Locations: Slouching against a brick wall, sitting in a meadow, or frolicking through a field. If you are aware you will never be a real model you’ll just be in your room or in front of your house. Or walking down a street, looking over your shoulder.
- All photos involving a meadow will have a washed-out pink haze, to trick people into thinking that your faux vintage clothes came out of the 1930s.
- For some inexplicable reason you will like typewriters, polaroids, and cupcakes.
- You’ll also post repetitive shots of silly model-esque expressions, but visitors won’t be able to see any different angle of your outfit.
- It’ll be hosted on Blogspot, despite its inferiority to WordPress. (…I am biased.)
There should really be a FASHION BLOGGER BINGO. But I’m lazy.
I always felt sorry for Altair. He was alone all the time. Few spoke very nicely to him. He was always running around the city, climbing up buildings, and mercilessly punching beggars in the face… What did he do in his spare time? Was he happy? Did he ever smile? Was he really born with that perfect nose? My poor Altair. Maybe brooding was his hobby. By the end we still don’t know anything about him, even though his colleagues are convinced that he’s undergone this magnificent change of character (“Hooray, you’re less of a dick now!”) during the time this game spanned. So… okay.
Still, I was thrilled to realise that Desmond was his descendent. Which means ALTAIR HAD BABIES. Ackk, so he did settle down and get all happy and have a wee wifey, etc, because obviously that is the only way babies happen. And marriages and relationships are only ever wonderful and happy.
…I try not to think about all the ways Altair could be miserable.
Then the sequel happened. In addition to the main storyline, you also have to find pages that Altair had written. Essentially, it’s Altair’s whiny diary. Amidst the scribbled mountains of angst he’s drawn pictures of his girlfriend surrounded by flowers, and it turns out Altair is the cutest little moody thing ever.
The plotline in Assassin’s Creed 2 involves a statue of Altair (and thanks to Law, I will forever typo statue as statute). And. And. And. Sometimes I send Ezio there just to look at him, and baaawwww suddenly I rather miss him, and what, now I have a crush on a video game character? He wasn’t even that great. His voice actor did an atrocious job. He’d drown instantly. His muscles were nearly bursting through his sleeves (yees, that is a bad thing). He recklessly climbed buildings in spite of how worried I was that he’d fall, too. He was bland.
…But apparently I was. Because when Desmond hallucinated all over the place and we were following Altair’s memories again, I was ecstatic. That is, until I somehow witnessed the moment that those babies of his started happening (don’t kiss people or you’ll get pregnant!!!!).
ALTAIR HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME.
He’s not even as goodlooking as the flamboyant Ezio. Or as kindly and intelligent as my Leonardo. Oh, Leonardo! I am in love with him now. He wears a silly floppy hat and solves puzzles for fun, nyaww. It’s just too bad Leo has it bad for Ezio (EZIO/LEONARDO FOREVERRR), but I’ll keep pining away nonetheless. WHATEVER ALTAIR YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE.
…What has my life become.
P.S. I realise that throughout this post I may have implied Altair was the one getting pregnant. I have no regrets.
P.P.S. Pictures from here and here.