Neck scarves. Blazers. Lapels. Tank tops. Dark roots. Bracelets. Rings. Nails. Contrast. Black. White. Brazen. Poised. As is. Debonaire. Yes.
Heart of glass was one of my favorite songs when I was in middle school. Ha. This makes me laugh. It was one of those types of songs I would call in to the radio station about fifty times until I got through, and request it, and then sit for another several hours waiting until they played it. I thought there was just something so cold and aggressively collected about it, but the beat kept it peppy and just slightly disheveled. Stiffly danceable. Kind of like the black and white Deborah Harry ruminates. Her spoiled roots are terse and shameless against a pouty blonde fountain of hair. Her dapper menswear, punkish tomboy remoteness, dainty jewelry, gypsy eyes, well-manicured nails, and rustic confidence are all so very lovely.