A couple of weekends ago I caught up with my good friend KL, whom I hadn’t seen since the beginning of summer. As we were traipsing to our comida mexicana lunch destination, we realized that I wear the same shirt like, every other time we hang out, and basically always look like a scrub while she’s all cute and dolled up. In both of our defenses, I live in ripped jeans and earthy, cotton t shirts when at all possible, and we often catch up on Sundays which means she’s coming from church. Personally, I tend to still wear ripped jeans and earthy, cotton t shirts to church unless I’ll be on stage because God knows that’s when I feel most myself. I also like to wear flip-flops sometimes despite traipsing down Market’s disgusting sidewalks because it means I can worship from the congregation like the bare foot granola I am turning into.
Exhibit A: me in Winnipeg, Manitoba
I’m thinking I might put my self together just for KL next time we hangout. In the meantime I thought I’d post several photos of myself ~ not selfies, mind you ~ of me constantly and unapologetically being a tourist in Northern California during the past three years. Half of these photos were taken by KL, and you’ll notice the Bekkah-Being-A-Tourist shirt makes a couple of classy appearances. You’ll also notice my poses get more ridiculous as the years go by. You’re welcome.
Shoutout to the Big Sis for gifting me with the Heart California Republic shirt that has become somewhat of a weekend uniform for me.