#tye dyed

[abwwia]

Zohra Opoku, Tye dyed, 2017-2018 UN Women Benefit Auction

[lavishlyon]

Totes

Totes for fitness, Wellness, the gym, yoga, Pilates, dance, swimming, track, school, bags, Women's, gifts, accessories,

[rustyarrowcreationswy82718]

[rustyarrowcreationswy82718]

[sunshineandfeelingfine]

tye dye love

[arobinsamongstthepigeons-blog]

Podcast Episode 43 | Starts / 13:40 minutes | 6 December 2014

Chapter 5 // Rebel with A Cause

1997 was a year in flux. The discovery of Yachtsman Tony Bullimore on the 9th of January seemed to signal a year of rebirth and change. 

For years I had been a studious boy, ignoring the unspoken affections of girls and the inevitable rise of grunge music. But in my fourteenth year I would finally show my true colours.

Those colours were the rust brown and aqua blue of a tye dyed metallica top. I had never heard their music, but the design; a large skull emblazoned on a skull background with additional skull motifs, caught my eye. It seemed to encapsulate my suppressed flamboyance and emotional depth. And thus was the perfect choice for non-uniform day. 

I knew this garment would cause a stir, but I was never one to do things by halves, quite the contrary, I do things by wholes.

I searched far and wide for accompaniments and eventually settled on two studded leather bracelets and matching leather dog collar. 

On entering the school bus that morning the reaction was immediate. I may as well have been wearing an explosive vest. The silence that greeted me dripped with awe and admiration, and lasted the whole journey.

By the end of the first lesson that silence was well and truly broken. There was only one word on everybody’s lips, and that word was ‘Robins’. Cries of “what the fuck are you wearing” and “leave him alone, someone call a teacher” rang out across the school. 

Ever the enigma when break time arrived I elected to stay in DT to finish a wooden box I had been making. Though I had pushed the boundaries of fashion I was unwilling to breach health and safety guidelines, and removed my studded bracelets whenever I was within two metres of the belt sander.

The reaction was so severe I did the same during lunch, under the constant watch of a teacher who locked the door in order to help me concentrate, I left the other students to argue amongst themselves, and hammer on the door and windows in a show of solidarity.

By hometime I was exhausted. A girl approached me at the school gate. “Are you a raver or a jitter or what?!” she barked. I knew neither term, but experience taught me they were probably both slang for homosexual, “neither” I replied “What are you then” she asked. My reply was simple “I, young lady, am a Robins”

And that, dear listener, has been my motto ever since.

[beenmyowngirl]