in which i use the scary big word "protofeminist"

I watched Coco Avant Chanel in the weekend. My girlfriends and I wilfully swilled gin & tonics and ate cheesecake throughout. I wore black. I was amazingly jealous of the girl in the front row who wore a silver sequinned beret with aplomb. I've always thought of Mademoiselle Chanel as being a fiercely independent, self-made figure. To watch her careening between two men was difficult for me to swallow. What do you call it when someone murders your vision of a proto-feminist figurehead and interprets their success as nothing without the assistance of powerful men? Other may say - realism. I say - disappointing.

♥ T-shirt & Skirt from Glassons ♥ Shoes from H&M ♥ Bracelet from Diva ♥ Ring from market in Luang Prabang, Laos ♥ Peacock background from here ♥

In Aesop's Fables, a peacock complains to the goddess Juno that it's no consolation to him how beautiful he is because when he opens his mouth, he sounds like William Hung. Juno basically tells him, "Shut up and be glad you're not a crow. You know what destiny he has? People run when they see him because he's a sign of bad luck. Would you like that? No. Gosh. Some animals are just never happy, are they?" NOTE: May not be exact translation. For a more faithful rendition, click here.