For show.

I'm the world's laziest person, which might hint at what my apartment looks like: heaps of clothes + hating to clean + somehow always being tired = what the fuck happened here. Thorough cleanings of my space are usually reserved for special occasions, which means they are just for show. I am not naturally tidy or organized.

When speaking about things that are just for show, the practicality of fashion is something that often comes to mind. Take, for example, the shoes paired with this outfit. What purpose do their heights serve? I can't think of anything other than it makes them look cool. Their architecture, like the cleaning of my apartment, is just for show. However, the problem with saying that anything is just for show—shoes, an apartment, whatever—suggests a negative implication of superficiality, in that were it not for the approval of others their purpose would cease to exist. And yet, there are days when I wear clothes like this and do not leave the house. There are days when no one is expected at my place, and I spend hours restoring its glory. It is misleading to say that any action an individual partakes in is merely "for show," because sometimes "for show" is directed at the most important audience: you, yourself, and you again.

Mango jacket; Primark triangle necklace; Nasty Gal copper necklace; J. Crew linen tee; Boohoo pants; Converse hi-tops.