It can be embarrassing. My shoes are broken and dirty. My hair is fried from the sun. You can usually tell that my clothes were previously owned. I have odd tan lines. Usually, when people from other provinces see me they know I am from Cape Town: the ever so predictable beach style.

I mean, I try to shake it up a little, but enviably I can not escape it. When I look in my closet searching for an outfit appropriate for something grown-up like a interview, I can not come close. But here I am, crazy hair and all, I look down at my sandy, worn-out shoes and I kinda secretly like it.

A child’s kaleidoscopic imagination - a thing we don’t often see. 

Even sadness will stop following you, if you splash it with the colors of sunset.

This is nice. 

Bright Ideas. 

All in White. 

Sex on the Beach. 

Who you’ve been never has to be who you are.