Life as a Thrift Store

One of my earlier memories involves me in a thrift store, I’m in a horrible mood, and I don’t want to be there. “Everything is so gross” I’m thinking to myself, carefully picking out the oldest, most pilly shirt in the store to justify my thoughts. I kept thinking of the  crisp, brand new, pink…

Creating an Un-fuck-with-able Attitude

A step by step guide to creating a positive, kick-ass, powerful attitude: Wear whatever you want, whenever you you want, wherever you want:  Luckily I have finally escaped the hell that is middle-class suburban public schools, aka a lot of boring dressers who have nothing better to do than laugh at one’s choice in clothing….

Make Bad Art

Call it an identity crisis, or a mental breakdown, but my urge to throw my phone into the ocean is becoming all too strong. How fucking privileged of me. However, since I’ve got your attention by swearing in the mere second sentence, I want to talk about young creatives on the internet. If you’re reading…

To the Ladies of the Lens

Before I absolutely bash male photographers (kidding), I’d like to recognize that my first photography role models were both men: Tyler Shields and Richard Avedon. But today is for the ladies of the lens. Actually, every day is for the ladies of the lens. I’m truly tired of feeling like shit around male photographers. At…

“You’d be pretty if you ____”

There’s nothing like those snide remarks, the “you’d be pretty if you ___” or the “maybe you should ___” comments. Well, here’s what you say to those “fuck you”. Developing a “fuck you” attitude has truly been a life changer. I mean what possible comeback is there to “fuck you”. As a photographer, specifically a…

Self Love

Whether you see thrifts and prints as a blog, zine, or a collection of nonsense, one aspect remains true, I founded this ‘thing’ on the principles of individuality. I was a sophomore in high school when I finally got thrifts and prints up and running, that was the first year I made the decision to…

The Anatomy of Fish

Sometimes, when the sun hits a fish just right, they’re not just brown or orange, but pink and green and blue […] in that little patch of sunlight where there is no “just”, but more of what could be  The anatomy of fish is the name of the essay I submitted for college. I wasn’t…

You Hit Like an Artist

Grab a snack, because this is going to take a while. As I created this blog as a platform for fashion and beauty, it has slowly progressed into writing, photography, and one of my favorite passions, ranting. Maybe I should start a series called Rants with Riley because boy do I have a lot to…

The Idea of Equal Rights was in the Air

My heart has felt very heavy. I’ve been trying to sit down and write this post for hours, but my words feel jumbled and my brain is just foggy. I’ve been thinking back to taking immense amounts of history notes last year, where I studied the “second half” of United States history. That was the…

Feeling Blue

That summer I was blue. Bluer than the ocean and the sky, than the paint that ran dry on the side of old cans. Bluer than the periwinkles and the wall in the kitchen. That summer I was not gray or green or violet, that summer I was blue. I was Summer Blue and that…