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| Thrifted vintage bolero, $4; thrifted J Crew jeans, $7; Forever 21 black tank; thrifted Marc Fisher loafers, $12; Forever 21 bracelets |
Last week, Good Morning America presented news segments organized around an eighties theme. They talked abut things like Reganomics and Wendy's 'where's the beef?' commercial and that terribly awesome Flock of Seagulls haircut and the wedding of Prince Charles to Princess Diana. But, unsurprisingly, the segments on fashion most interested me. As far as I'm concerned, the eighties were all about the fashion. This was a decade where everything went, from purple frosted eyeshadow that swept up to your forehead to acid wash jeans to bedazzled everything to blazers with aggressive shoulder pads. It was during this decade that I, a painfully awkward middle school student with braces and a (gasp) perm, begged my mom for things like bubble skirts and scrunchie socks and neon anything and OH MY GOD, IF I DON'T WEAR GUESS JEANS MOM I AM GONNA DIE, LIKE, DIE RIGHT HERE ON OUR KITCHEN FLOOR.
While I was thrifting in the Goodwill the other day I came across this ridiculous cropped top from the same era. It's sequined and muli-patterned and looks exactly what I imagine a bad acid trip must feel like - the eighties personified. And I couldn't resist.
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