Hey guys may kilala kamo nga place nga pwede ka rent prom dress? More specifically mga cocktail dress nga medjo modest (with blue accents) ^{^} so if may kabalo kamo nga may ara pls comment ty!

African men's clothing in Canada is increasingly popular and can add a touch of color and originality to your style. Canada[1]is home to many African boutiques offering quality clothing for every taste. Whether you're looking for wax shirts, traditional boubous or elegant dashiki ensembles, you're sure to find what you're looking for in these stores. In this article, we've listed the 7 best online stores to find African men's clothing in Canada, as well as the latest trends in African men's fashion.

The best online boutiques for African men's clothing in Canada

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1. Africtudes: This online boutique offers an exceptional selection of African men's clothing in Canada, from colorful wax shirts to linen boubous. The garments are made from high-quality fabrics and are built to last. What's more, the boutique offers fast, affordable delivery within Canada.
2. Ebene Mode: Here you'll find a wide selection of African clothing, from printed shirts to wax pants. The boutique offers items for all tastes and ages. Prices are also very affordable, making it an ideal option for those looking to save money while staying fashionable.
3. Elle Quebec: If you're looking for elegant, sophisticated outfits, Elle Quebec offers a selection of top-of-the-range African clothing for men. Their creations are made from high-quality fabrics and are built to last. They also offer customized shirts and jackets for a unique look.
4. Afrikrea: This online boutique offers a wide variety of African men's clothing in Canada, from cotton shirts to traditional wax suits. They also have a children's clothing section, so the whole family can dress in African style. The boutique offers fast delivery and competitive prices.
5. Wax Africa: If you're looking for something more unique and original, Boutique E offers unique designs that stand out from the crowd. Their African menswear is modern and trendy, while remaining true to African traditions. Shirts and pants are made from the finest fabrics.
6. Couleur d'afrique 974: If you're looking for traditional African menswear, Couleur d'afrique is the place to find it. They have a wide variety of traditional garments such as boubous, dashikis and agwalas in a variety of colors and patterns. Most garments are made from high-quality cotton.
7. Nathael Creation: Finally, Nathael creation offers a range of African-American-style menswear. Their designs are modern and urban, blending an African aesthetic with Western influences. Their garments range from shirts to jackets to pants, and are made from high-quality fabrics.

The best physical boutiques for African menswear in Canada

Home of African Fashion:This Montreal-based boutique offers a wide range of African menswear. In addition to their physical store, Home of African Fashion also offers an online boutique for customers who can't make it to the store.
Kensington Market: This area of Toronto is known for its multitude of African stores. Here you'll find a variety of African menswear, as well as accessories such as hats, jewelry and shoes. Visit Kensington Market to discover unique and authentic stores.
It's not easy to find African menswear in Canada, but these seven online boutiques will make it easy. Don't forget to check out the latest trends in African men's fashion to add a little color and originality to your wardrobe. With their varied and eclectic selection, you're sure to find something to suit your style and budget. So don't hesitate to visit these boutiques for an unforgettable shopping experience.

I am 25. I was objectively a loser in highschool. My girlfriend was not. I literally scored last in my class in everything with a GPA literally of 51% (literally 1% above minimum), she graduated with a 4.6 GPA (literally 115%) including all her extra circulars, full scholarship through a uni of her choice, and she was a solid 10/10 literal actual prom queen. She was so beautiful. Meanwhile, I drifted through college as a degen, only smoking weed all by myself as a hobby, being ass ugly, making no friends, being completely sexless until like 21 when I got fit, started dressing nice, started doing hookups. She was well experienced by age 15, having been with well over 40 guys by 22 (most of who she claims she was with due to some sort of self-harm), she graduated 3 years before me, and already worked a real job long before me. I spent 2020 really working on myself to become a functioning person. After burning out, fundamentally changing her entire personality, ideology, everything, she gained 100lbs from antidepressants, went through 2020 trying not to kill herself. And then she found me. She said I saved her life. Honestly, I had done hookups before her and relationships before her, but never found a person who had completed me so much before her.
She entered my life on my own "glowup", I entered her life on her darkest period, she literally said I saved her from suicide. I was very suicidal myself, but really trying so hard to look as if I was functional. Basically I was at my highest point ever, she was at her lowest point ever. And we found each other in the middle, and we love each other and support eachother. She's so amazing to me, and I feel like such a dumbass for feeling so insecure.
I keep comparing my past self to her past self. I keep feeling inferior. Inferior for my lack of sexual experience compared to her. Inferior because her LinkedIn followers are 10x my own. And inexperienced generally. She's so outgoing, and so unafraid. I've changed so much since highschool, mostly to look unafraid and outgoing. Highschool me couldn't even imagine being with somebody like her. I was a nerd, who skipped class almost always to smoke pot, and she was a preppy popular solid 10/10 beauty queen who I'd not have even considered in my league. This is my biggest issue, I can't escape this highschool mentality. I keep looking at her old posts. I keep obsessing over our past differences. Even though now we have so much in common. Even though now we click on almost everything. It literally keeps my up at night and I wish it didn't. I thinking about where I was and where she was, despite this being well over 8 years ago now. I keep having nightmares about her leaving me, as if I am just some temporary person in her life. It is all I think about, and only when I am around her do I feel my instincts numb and my feelings take over. I wish that could be all the time, but I still so often think about it.
Are my alone, or is there anybody else who finds this at all relatable. I can't get past how different we were as teenagers, and it makes me feel terrible.

Hey y'all! I've been posting here quite often since my MIL moved in and I'm grateful for this sub to let me blow off some steam. Here comes a wall of text because this is my one way of venting!
For a recap, my MIL is 78. She's always been the selfless angel type every time I've seen her prior to moving in. She was always hyper polite, always cooked drawn out amazing meals just for us, and got to spoil my son for our visits. Sure, she's old fashioned and a little batty in her own quirky way, but was always incredibly courteous and doting.
So, long story short, MIL was kicked out of her home where she paid next to no rent her entire life. Her sister (92 and still kicking) owned it until it recently went up for sale due to having multiple strokes and no longer being capable of managing it. MIL is broke. She only gets minimal social security every month. She's relied on her son, my husband, our entire marriage to solve her problems, financial or otherwise. He has taken care of her siblings as well out of love and not because he's obligated. It's been a rollercoaster of dementia homes, stories funeral costs, and nursing homes for as long as we've been married. We didn't want her to go searching for section 8 housing on such short notice, nor could we afford to get her her own place. She also lived about a 2 hour drive from hell away.
Our solution seemed simple. We went out of our way to rent a new home with an extra bedroom for her and one for her sister for when we may be able to employ a part time home nurse. She swore she would help out with her meals in between and I would take care of diapers when the nurse was off the clock. We thought, hey, it'll be a bit of a learning curve, but she's so sweet, there's no way we won't find a groove and get a little extra help with the kids. I was 32 weeks pregnant when she moved in. It seemed like a no brainer to get grandma to enjoy the birth of her second grandson and save us a fortune on elder care at the same time. We thought she would be happy to be with her son and his kids in a nice neighborhood.
I detailed it in my first post here, but long story short, MIL shocked me with her inability to adapt. Fist thing I noticed was that she had debilitating cataracts to the point where she's basically blind. She holds up a magnifying glass inches away from literally everything to see. On top of that, she's also basically deaf. We are taking care of these things but it's taking time.
But it went beyond that. She has no hobbies. I caught her staring at the TV on the "are you still watching" page as if there was a show on. She must feel like she's staring at a wall all the time every day. She has no interest in doing anything else except for chores.
BUT. She will only do these chores HER way and becomes extremely offended if I try to show her how we like to do things/ask her nicely to let me, say, let me put my own laundry away. I showed her how I like to fold my clothes and she smiled and pretended to listen, then literally IMMEDIATELY continued folding them the way I asked her not to. Multiple times to the point where telling her again would be too awkward. I literally picked then up and refolded everything she did one after another right in front of her and she just continued. She's also so blind that she was putting my bras in the pile with my son's shirts... and when I asked her to let me sort, since she mixed everything up so badly, she ignored me again.
Lastly, she undermines our parenting a lot. I've always been a believer that grandma gets to spoil the kids a bit more than parents, but my son (8) is on the spectrum and he is the type who has only made many of the strides he has due to our strictness in making him care for himself when capable. He's smart but can be lazy when things are done for him. He can't be babied or he regresses. Everything he knows how to do he had to be pushed into doing for himself, but he always learns to love the independence once he masters these life skills. I caught MIL literally spoon-feeding him within the first week. She was wiping his butt and now he leaves streaks in his underwear, waiting for somebody to wipe him. She dresses him. She brushes his teeth. These are all things we have worked tirelessly in getting him to do for himself. And when I politely remind her that this is not good for him and to let him be independent, I can tell that she gets mad.
All this time, MIL has proven herself to be the type to smile to my face and then slowly boil over her grievances. She will smile at me and then blow up on SO like he's her scapegoat. Lately, that simmering resentment has finally boiled over, and that's kind of the point if this post.
Here are some things, not limited to, that have slowly accumulated and eventually set my MIL off:

1. The other day, she cooked sausage links. She forgot to put them away in a ziploc bag so, overnight, they went bad exposed to the open air. I saw them in the fridge and said "oh, please remember to put them in a bag! It's okay though, it's just a couple pieces of sausage!" It was a non-thing. Within moments, she teared up and ran to her room to cry. I followed her to reassure her that mistakes happen, that she can't beat herself up over nothing. Nobody doesn't make mistakes. She insisted that no, this was a huge deal.
   
2. She was sucking her teeth excessively a week ago. So loud that it sounded like she was eating a bag of chips with her mouth open. SO said "hey ma, don't forget your tick!". She ran to her room to cry and said that she felt like she lived in a big dark hole. It was very sad to hear her say that. I felt bad, but this was something we talked to her about before with no issue. Suddenly it's a HUGE problem. I personally have a thing where certain excessive mouth noises just obliterate my mood. I can't help it, it's genetic as far as I can tell, but I still do my best to tolerate the occasional teeth sucking. But this? It's nonstop and LOUD. Unlike anything I've heard before. Louder then smacking gum by a LOT.
   
3. The day we got home from the hospital after a traumatic preterm birth, the first thing she did was complain that it had been a week since she wanted to get her eyebrows waxed. We had to stay in the hospital that entire week and I guess she took that personally. Never mind the excessive pain I was in coming home for due to complications.
   
4. I asked her nicely multiple times to try and limit the amount of candies and cookies she put in the pantry while I acclimated to my PP diet. She can still have them, but I asked her to store them in her room for now, because my success in dieting is directly correlated to how many temptations I have at home and she will usually only eat a single cookie out of a box a day (so they last forever). She has instead taken it upon herself to build a small stash of candy bars and cakes in the pantry, of which she has eaten NONE. She then offers me foods she knows I can't have and then gets upset with me for denying them, as that's "impolite".
   
5. She would douse herself in perfume multiple times a day. Perfume makes me physically ill to the point where I had to go lay down with nausea and headaches whenever she did. Some helpful redditors pointed out that it would be toxic for my baby, so we asked her nicely to tone it down for the sake of the newborn's health. She freaked out and said that she had no control over her life. I felt bad about this one, as I know she enjoys her perfume a lot, but it was just too much. Her room still smells like a thick musk and I just don't go in there.
   

Now, this is the big blowup...
Today, a repairman came to fix a piece of furniture. MIL asked me if she should take the dog outside so he didn't bother him and I told her no, the dog will calm down after a moment of excitement, but she was free to go outside anyway if she wanted to. I thought she went out to enjoy herself- she does it often and says she likes the sun. Well, the repairman left while I was pumping breast milk and hubs was feeding our new 2 week old. She eventually came in about 5 minutes after he left and BLEW UP. She was crying, yelling us that it was SO RUDE to not come and get her immediately. We told her that we thought she was out there in her own accord but she didn't listen. SO kept saying "it was only five minutes, we have had our hands full and we didn't know", and she stormed out of the house for two hours. I was supposed to go to sleep (newborn schedule) but stayed up because DH went out to chase her and talk.
During this talk, since I was not around, she let it all out. Said she lives in hell. She's mad at ME for pointing out how the sausage went bad. Says I should've never mentioned it, let her leave it out as much as she wanted, and that it was rude of me to correct her. She used the phrase "I know you have kids with her so she's not going anywhere" and my husband defended me, asking her wtf I had done that was so wrong and if I should've eaten bad meat just to please her. He told her that, if she couldn't live with us, she wouldn't make it with anyone else who didn't bend over backwards, which she denied. Apparently she expected us to let her do literally anything she wanted and says that she "walks on eggshells" around me because I ask her not to baby my son (I'm watching all of my hard work crumble before my eyes with how she treats him and I will NOT stand by and watch my son wither away into a helpless blob). She said that it wasn't fair that the dog had rules and the cats don't, going so far as to pantomime a hunched over servant, to which SO had to explain that cats are incapable of learning manners the way dogs are and the dogisn't allowed to just jump on people and beg for food. She thinks him having a crate is cruel and unusual. She even said that it makes her upset when I don't jump out of my seat and shout an enthusiastic "Good morning!!" when she wakes up.
Forget that I've been up since the wee hours taking care of a newborn. Forget all of my pains and aches, my disfigured and bloody nipples from trying to find the right pump, and my also being on a strict diet. Oh, and forget that I'm in MY OWN HOME where I shouldn't feel like I have to feign enthusiasm every time I see a family member. It's not like I'm rude! I always smile and put on a chipper tone no matter HOW I feel. But, on the days where my pains are just too much, when I'm dizzy or dealing with a migraine, she takes personal offense to my smile not sparkling in the sun. How dare I be somewhat stoic but still polite!
I went to sleep after she got back (we talked about it at length until then) and, when I woke up to pump, she was gone. Apparently she went to bed early in a huff. On Saturdays, my son looks forward to a "sleepover" in her room. He looks forward to it all week. He was just getting ready for bed and my husband was explaining to him that it probably wasn't happening tonight. He ended up opening her door loudly and we had to pull him away and reprimand him for opening her door without knocking, knowing that she was asleep.
Well, after he did that twice, I went over to him to console him and tell him that we would make up for it. She BURST out of her room and started yelling at us: why won't you let him have his sleepover?!
We told her that we thought she was sleeping, as per what she said (she apparently even said goodnight to my son when she went to bed), and that regardless, he shouldn't be bursting into her room without knowing that she was awake and willing to have this sleepover. She just kept yelling, not listening: WHY are you not letting him stay with me?! It's Saturday! He ALWAYS sleeps in here!
And ultimately, he got to go have his sleepover after we were completely undermined for trying to teach him manners. I'm glad that he got to, he didn't deserve to be shafted, but how dare she make US the bad guys for not letting him force his way inside when we thought she had specifically wanted to be alone?? I was already annoyed with HER for going to bed without him on his special day, but instead she made a whole show about how we were keeping him from her and how she was the big savior in the end!
After all this, DH is fuming. I've never seen him this mad at his mother. He loves her tremendously. He's bent under backwards for her multiple times over the course of our marriage. He's taken care of EVERYTHING in her life. But now that she's pointing fingers at him and treating him like he's the bad guy, he is OVER it. He said to me that, if she has anther unfair outburst like that, he's gonna tell her to call around and find somebody willing to house her, because she's out of here. She's destroying our newborn period. We won't get these days back.
But what gets me is that... I think that's what she expects from him. She expects him to just dish out 2k per month of his own money, of his children's money, to get her her own apartment where she can wander around like Mr. Magoo and eat rancid sausages to her heart's content. It's almost a powerplay. The initial plan was to move her sister in, save a fortune on elder care, and she would help keep her sister company since I'm not bilingual and they were spending every day together before she moved in with us. But she just... stopped talking to her sister altogether? It's so bizarre. It's like she randomly decided to drop her from her life when she moved in with us and it's clear that her sister is hurt by this. When we ask her, she just goes "oh, I don't know :)" or just makes a dismissive "mmm".
But she won't talk about anything. She won't listen to our side of anything. She just wants to explode, bitch, and then pretend it never happened in a cycle. She expects us to just grit our teeth and live in hell with her when our lives are supposed to be happy right now with the new baby. She thinks that burying problems and periodically freaking out is the right way to live and everything else is rude. I can't even enjoy my newborn. I have angry MIL sitting beside me, staring depressedly at the wall for hours on end every day. I can't so much as be a parent to my oldest anymore without incurring her silent ire, which she unloads on DH when they're alone. If I try to talk about it with her, it's all "don't worry about it, everything's fine :)".
What gets me, what I take personally (since I'm thinking that the rest may be dementia or something), is how she treats our family finances like a bottomless bank. She thinks that DH is Scrooge McDuck with a pool of gold despite me telling her about our struggles and how DH has literally been crying over the whole situation with her sister. She KNOWS that our financial plan was to save money on her living costs and on her sister's elder care because we can't afford to take care of everybody, but DH loves her too much to just stick her into section 8 (which takes time, too). BUT, she wants us to buy her her own apartment ANYWAY as well as forgo the plan on saving five figures a month on her sister, all while treating us like trash for not allowing her to bulldoze the household. Who is this woman and what has she done with the MIL I knew?! If we don't get to live out our plan as intended, I will hold this against her forever, and there will be no reconciliation. DH understands. He thinks I've been more than understanding and that it's MIL who is acting like a dictator while claiming to be the victim.
TLDR: MIL thinks that the normal course of life is to endure misery and never talk openly and honestly, so she expects us to wallow in her own personal Hell beside her for a long as she will live. Does not believe in reconciliation, seems to have zero consideration for others in any capacity (except our dog?), and makes unreasonable seen like the understatement of the century.
Oh, and I've gotten a lot of advice on my aunt in law's elder care in the last couple of threads, so not a lot is needed! DH has been on top of it and all suggestions were things he already considered and knew about. It's rather complicated and i can't get into it here, as this is just meant to be a rant. We have an elder care lawyer who is helping out.
As for assisted living for MIL, that's apparently not going to happen without significant costs until she meets certain cognitive thresholds, which she has not yet. So, it's either section 8 (and I'm petrified of letting her live alone, tbh) or another small fortune to get her out of the house... I think we need to find a relative willing to take her, because with my kids, she's turning my once bright and sunny household into a goddamn war zone.

If you are a fan of spicy food, you might have heard of Old Godmother, a brand of chili sauce from China that has taken the world by storm. Old Godmother, or Lao Gan Ma in Chinese, literally means “old dry mother” and refers to the founder of the company, Tao Huabi, who started making chili sauce in her home kitchen in 1996.

• Old Godmother chili sauce is made with chili peppers, soybean oil, garlic, onion, fermented soybeans and peanuts. It has a rich and complex flavor that can enhance any dish, from noodles and rice to meat and vegetables. It is also versatile and can be used as a dipping sauce, a marinade, a dressing or a condiment.
• I discovered Old Godmother when I was studying abroad in China. I was amazed by the variety and intensity of Chinese cuisine, but I also craved something familiar and comforting. One day, I stumbled upon a small restaurant that served noodles with Old Godmother sauce. I was intrigued by the name and decided to give it a try.
• The first bite was a revelation. The noodles were chewy and satisfying, and the sauce was spicy, savory, nutty and aromatic. It was unlike anything I had ever tasted before. It was love at first sight. I finished the bowl in minutes and asked for more. The owner of the restaurant smiled and handed me a bottle of Old Godmother. He said it was his secret ingredient and that I could buy it at any supermarket.
• I thanked him and ran to the nearest store. I bought several bottles of Old Godmother and brought them back to my dorm. I started adding Old Godmother to everything I cooked or ate. It became my go-to sauce for breakfast, lunch and dinner. It spiced up my life and made me happy.
• Old Godmother also helped me make friends with other students who shared my passion for spicy food. We would exchange recipes and tips on how to use Old Godmother in different ways. We would also challenge each other to try the hottest dishes we could find or make. We had a lot of fun and laughter.
• Old Godmother is more than just a sauce. It is a symbol of courage, creativity and friendship. It is a reminder of my wonderful time in China and the people I met there. It is a part of my identity and culture. I still keep a bottle of Old Godmother in my kitchen and use it often. It never fails to bring a smile to my face and a fire to my tongue.

Hi, Does anyone know any stores within Nottingham where I can go in and actually try on a dress for my graduation. Seems like everything is on line now and I have no idea where to go! Thanks

So here I am at about 10:30pm in the plaza parking lot. Theres a bunch of stores, among them a bank, a bar, and my usual dispensary (weed is legal in Canada).
So I'm masked up, hood up, glasses on, wearing my dads huge black winter coat in the middle of the night. You know, in a really suspicious manner. Its POURING rain and snow, visibility is at a minimum, so naturally I'm running as fast as possible towards the dispensary. All of a sudden I hear someone yell "Hey! YOU! Stop right there!".
Well somehow I missed that the Brinks Armoured truck was hauling money from the bank, and parked directly in front of the dispensary. Which I am SPRINTING TOWARDS in all black, masked and hooded, in the middle of the night.
I panicked and put my hands up, dude HAS A GUN. He shouts "What are you doing!?". I'm panicking, blurt out "SORRY SORRY, I JUST WANTED WEED". Two more men come from the front of the vehicle with their guns out. "nonoONONO SORRY, I DONT WANT MONEY FOR WEED! JUST WEED!" As I'm frantically gesturing towards the dispensary. He asked me "why are you running", and all I could think about was that ridiculous meme so I start laughing at the absurdity of all of this. Determined I wasn't a threat, tells me to go around slowly, hands up. I'm soaking wet and dudes are standing there just eyeballing the heck out of me as I inch my way over to the store.
Got my weed and made the employees laugh.
TLDR: Ran towards Brinks truck at night looking like I'm about to commit a robbery when I was just trying to get to the dispensary in a storm.

Online Rolexes can be purchased in a variety of ways, but did you know that luxury watches can now be purchased using cryptocurrency? An ever increasing number of retailers are starting to acknowledge crypto as a suitable type of installment, and BQ Watches is pleased to offer this help. If you own digital currency and you need to buy an extravagance watch, you can purchase your next Rolex with Bitcoin, Ethereum, Litecoin, and a few other top cryptographic forms of money. On the checkout page for BQ Watches, all you have to do is select "Pay With Bitcoin or Other Cryptocurrencies."
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But I didn't get it. Now prom season kills me every time it rolls around. If Jesus loves me he'll let me go peacefully tonight and let me go to prom in heaven. I'll wear the dress and I'll be beautiful. Why did I have to feel so fucking ugly instead? Why did I have to live in the dirt or some ant-infested shithole? WHY? WHY? Do you understand how ugly that made me feel? Nobody cared, nobody loved me enough, this cash cow is done. I'm dried up. I hope you all feel good about yourselves. Because I feel so fucking ugly. You don't know what it's like to carry that with you. The cold and heat and piss and blood and ash and dirt, all the fucking dirt. It buried itself deep inside me and that's why I feel so fucking ugly. I wish I could have experienced prom. Why wasn't I good enough?

I’m (27f) getting married later this year and announced a tentative date a while ago. Seemingly out of no where, my cousin (28f) decided to get married exactly one week before I was planning to.
I have been trying on wedding dresses for the past couple months. My cousin’s mother asked to see some of the dresses I had tried on so my mother sent her a video of one of our final picks. I didn’t think much of it as I wanted my extended family to feel included.
A few weeks pass and I get a call from the boutique I had paid a deposit for my dress at. They inform me that my cousin and her mother had come to their store with the video of me in my dress and asked to get something exactly like it. One of their sales associates sold them the exact same dress in a cream colour instead of white (which was my dress’s colour). The store owner was very apologetic and offered a refund since she realized two girls from the same family can’t wear the same dress—I will likely have a lot of the same guests at my wedding.
I was in disbelief and was hoping it was all a terrible mix up. I immediately messaged my cousin and casually asked to see the dress she purchased. For weeks she created stories about either not finding a dress or having it altered so she couldn’t show me. Finally, the night before her wedding, she invited my mom and I over for some last minute help.
Again, we asked to see her dress. She finally caved and brought it out. Of course, it was the exact same dress. I was extremely hurt and asked why she would go out of her way to steal my wedding dress knowing full well her wedding is before mine which means everyone would see it on her before me. I said if she had spoken to me beforehand I might have chosen to let her have the dress but she went behind my back and chose to lie about it repeatedly.
Things got heated and I ended up leaving. I’m not sure if I even want to go to her wedding tomorrow after the stunt she and her mother pulled. Everyone in my family thinks I overreacted and should have kept my mouth shut until after her wedding instead of creating animosity the night before her big day.
AITA?

Based on the poll, it seems we want most some assistance with pricing and with current trends.
Some things to keep in mind when pricing:

1. Is it fast fashion?
2. Is it rare?
3. Quality of fabric?
4. Any faults?
5. Is it trending?

If you have any items that you're unsure of how to price, feel free to post on this sub and we'll throw in some advice.
In relation to Aus trends, i'll jot down some things I've noticed:

1. Black classics doing well now that Winter's upon us: black silk tops, sexy black dresses, black knitwear.
2. feminine turtlenecks - delicate woollen sleeveless specifically,
3. Early 2000's prom dresses - satin look or polyester overlayed dresses with structured busts + spaghetti straps
4. low rise/mid rise skirts - hyper feminine, floral, lace
5. low/mid rise straight/wide leg pants - pinstripe, beige, flare
6. corset + lingerie tops and blouses

Definitely haven't covered everything so please add anything else you've noticed!

"Nothing ever grows here."
This was a sentiment my father expressed often, referring to a particular plot on the east side of our property, murmuring the words bitterly. No matter what crops he planted there, no matter the attention he gave them, they would either wither and die or grow in a sickly, twisted fashion.
When I was young I watched him work the land and brought him food and water as the sun beat down upon us, dreading the day that he often told me would come- the day I was old enough to toil alongside him.
My interests were books, knowledge, the arts. Things they taught at school, and the more interesting topics I could learn about from Thomas, our neighbor who lived a mile down the road from us. Though he was several grades above me, Thomas was always kind, treating me as one would a younger sibling and entertaining my curiosities. It was from him that I found myself immersed in works of fiction and fantasy, things that my father would glance at and grimace.
"These things aren't meant for people like us, Leroy. No, we weren't dealt a hand to indulge ourselves in the luxury of idle pleasures for men who do not work with their hands."
He never said these things with a tone of anger or resentment, but rather in a measured way, meant to let me understand that he would derive no pleasure in keeping me from my interests or from walking to the school in a few short months. No, he said these things regretfully, wearily. He too, had once dreamed of a life away from his family's struggling farm. The only of his three siblings to survive adolescence, he chose to stay and aid my grandfather after my grandmother passed and he began succumbing to the bottle.
While my father never gave in to such vices, seeing him grow stiffer and harder of breath each day, I knew that I soon would assume the role he had once played for his father. And so I clung to my remaining days of freedom with a feverish fervor.
​
"...and it's entirely made of ice?" I asked, insistent and intrusive at Thomas's side.
"No, it's a continent covered by and surrounded by ice…" he replied distractedly, keeping his eyes on his book as we walked, "The, uh, Vikings found it I think… maybe the Spaniards. It's interesting though, no one owns Antarctica… Besides maybe the penguins."
"The Spanish find everything.”
“Mm. The Nazis went there too. My father told me.”
“Does he ever talk about the war?”
Thomas raised an eyebrow but didn’t look up from the page. His father, Sheriff Russell, patrolled Mt.Harmon with an efficiency that could only have been instilled by combat. Nothing ever happened in our sleepy little town, and he often seemed disappointed by this.
“Does yours?” Thomas replied.
“No. Mostly worries about the Russians these days. ”
“You’d think we’d be tired of war by now, wouldn’t you? And yet we continue to find new and horrifying ways to kill one another. Seems if we invent the weapons we’ll invent a reason to point them at someone.”
“Why do we keep making them then?”
“It’s profitable.”
There was a long pause between us. I decided to change the subject.
"What are you reading?"
"Frankenstein, or; The Modern Prometheus. It's by a woman named Mary Shelley. Gruesome throughout, it's about a monster created by a man who becomes a monster himself… You'd like it, I think. You can borrow it when I'm finished."
“How does one become a monster?”
“Inwardly. You’ll see when you read it. Conversely, the monster begins to appear more human.”
I pondered the meaning of what he had said and we neared a bend in the road. Thomas suddenly stopped in his tracks and dropped Frankenstein to his side. He stared straight ahead, eyes squinting at something through thick coniferous branches. I followed his gaze, finding nothing.
"Do you see that?"
"No…" I whispered. I followed his finger until I was able to see the camouflaged Great Horned Owl roosting there. Its sharp eyes were trained on us.
“How bizarre,” Thomas remarked.
“Not really. That’s one of the most common species of owl in this region.”
“It’s not bizarre that it’s here. It’s bizarre that it’s awake in daylight and that there are so many in one place.”
Taken aback, I realized the forest we were staring into was staring right back at us. Dozens of these owls were scattered throughout the trees.
“Incredible… Enjoy this moment, Leroy. We’ll never see anything like this again.”
We lingered for a while, soaking it in. After a silent agreement was reached that we had appreciated them sufficiently we turned away and journeyed on.
​
“You’re getting better with that,” I noted, watching my father adjust the radio’s dial to his favorite station. He often asked me to tune it for him.
“There is a part of me that still dislikes it greatly. Yet I find myself compelled. It doesn’t do us well to be uninformed.”
The broadcast spoke of the weather. The next week was to be warm, uncharacteristically so for this time of year. To this he grunted, “Figures.”
“How does that figure?”
“Maybe it doesn’t. But it gives me something to blame. Might as well be the weather.”
“And what do you blame on the weather?”
“Whatever you want. It’s the perfect scapegoat.”
“I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Let the cat out.”
I journeyed to the porch with the orange creature weaving itself between my feet. It wasn’t our cat, but it was here often enough for us to feel responsible for it. We weren’t sure who it belonged to, if anyone. It scampered out into the night, where a thick fog had settled over the grass. I listened to the chirping of crickets mingle with the muffled chatter of the radio while settling into a creaking rocking chair. The glow from the lamp inside gave off just enough light as I examined the cover before opening Frankenstein, flipping through to see what annotations Thomas had made in his scribbled, slanted way of expressing his thoughts between the printed lines. They always intrigued me as much as the original work. I smiled, returning to the first page.
It was on a dreary night of November that I beheld the accomplishment of my toils…
​
“...Well, what did you think of Duck and Cover?”
Thomas was clearly excited to discuss the schoolwide atomic weapon safety protocol video we had been shown that morning. I was less than eager to reply. Practicing the drill had left me feeling ill.
“A desk would never save us from an explosion of that magnitude.”
“Clearly.”
“Why not build a bunker?”
Thomas laughed, “It costs money. Besides, would you want to be trapped in a bunker for years until the radiation decays? I’d rather die, frankly, than become a human sardine.”
“Valid…”
“If the government really wanted to make dealing with the aftermath convenient, they’d have us each dig our own grave beforehand. When the alarms blare we would simply lie down in them, and wait.” Thomas crossed his arms over his chest and mimed falling backwards.
I forced the resemblance of a chuckle out of a throat that had constricted.
“You don’t look well.”
“Why should I?” I turned to him, exasperated, “I don’t have a desk at home. Even the illusion of shelter might be nice.”
Thomas softened his voice, “I’m sorry, I was trying to make light of the absurdity of it all… I try not to mention that you’re leaving school. I force it from my mind so often that it sometimes slips away completely.”
“It’s not just that.”
“Then what?”
“...Doesn’t it bother you? To know that there are decisions being made for us? Ones that we do not get a say in- like who to bomb, or being forced to hide under a desk in the face of certain death?” I could feel my eyes beginning to water.
“...Of course it does.”
“And yet you laugh about it?”
Thomas shrugged, “I try to. Sometimes that’s the only option left.”
​
“What was your reasoning in choosing a Chevrolet over a Ford?”
My father was patching a tire, I was pestering him while he worked in the barn.
“Truth be told, I could give a damn about brands, makes or models. They all drive, they all break down, they all require special attention to certain faulty components… I simply needed a truck, and this is the one I could afford the day I was buying.”
“So you don’t ever find yourself admiring a Ford?”
“Sure. The grass is always greener, as they say...”
“And as you say. That's an idiom you use often.”
“Perhaps. I’m a practicing pragmatist.”
“You consider yourself to be a pragmatist?”
“...Should I surmise from your tone that you disagree?"
“I… didn’t say that.”
“Not in so many words.”
A pair of owls hooted rhythmically from somewhere to the east. He placed the tire back on the hub, giving me a stern look before winking at me as he began tightening the bolts to the rim. His point was made and my tongue was tied. He gave a curt nod at my concession and lowered the jack, running his hands across the repaired tread to make certain that no air was escaping. Once he was satisfied that it had been patched successfully he wiped them on his coveralls and stood up, grunting and groaning as his tired limbs protested just as loudly.
When he spoke again his voice had lost some of the sharpness it typically held, “There was another matter I wished to discuss with you before this task took precedence this evening”
“I’m all ears.”
“Tell that to the mouth you’re always running…” he chuckled softly, his usual gruff timbre still absent from this remark, “Leroy, I’ve decided to hire some help around here.”
I stared at him, sizing up the implication of what he’d said.
“Do you forget who manages your finances?” I asked, incredulous, knowing that we didn’t have a quarter to spare.
“That only adds to my point. You are a child, yet you understand these things as well, or perhaps even better, than I.”
“Indeed, which makes your statement even more foolish.”
The gruffness came back to his voice with his response.
“Not at all. There is hope for you yet. You haven’t made the poor decisions I have and tied yourself to this cursed piece of land… Nothing grows here. And what does is meager…”
“...Meaning that you will need my help to succeed.”
“Nonsense. You will be at school for the spring and the fall, and in the summer you will have chores. But I cannot bear keeping you here with me. I will hire help.”
There was a finality to what he had said. A weight had been simultaneously lifted from my shoulders and placed firmly in the air between us. Impenetrable and inarguable. I found my lips trembling.
“Were you ever happy here?”
My question took him aback. He regarded me for a while before he spoke, his voice once again lowered to a softer cadence and volume.
“...I suppose I was for a time. We told ourselves we would return home to a hero's welcome… To parades and medals and our loved ones. And we did… To all the fanfare and the admiration… For what we had done. Who we had killed. The enemy- young men just like us. Scared, tired, hungry, sick men that we were told to kill with distorted reasoning, manipulation, for fear of being called a coward or a traitor… Through similar methods they were coerced to do the same to us. At the end of the day, we were only ever trying to survive, no matter which uniform we wore.”
He leaned against the frame of the Chevy.
“So I was happy to survive… I was happy to return to my infant, my wife…” he sighed heavily, staring down at the ground, “And then she left us... She was not happy here.”
“We… Couldn’t we have gone with her?”
“No,” he shook his head, “No, it wasn’t like that, Leroy… She was- is- a spirit meant to be free. She would have never been happy with us. Perhaps I was a fool for ever thinking that she could be…”
I had never heard him speak of her this frankly. I could see his eyes sadden as memories of their time together flashed through his mind. I nearly regretted broaching the subject.
“She was- she is- a good woman, in her own way,” he concluded, looking back at me.
“...And you are a great man,” I told him.
He rubbed his face with his sleeve, quickly concealing the mist forming in his eyes from my sight. When he lowered his arm he was once again composed.
“And you are a great son, Leroy.”
​
The next morning Thomas was not waiting on the porch for me on the way to school as usual. Instead I was greeted by Sheriff Russell after I knocked on the screen door. Seeing him dressed in a robe and slippers instead of his uniform was oddly disorienting.
"Good morning, Leroy. I'm afraid Thomas has had a fever through the night. His mother believes it best for him to stay in bed for the day. Just getting over mine," he added, seeming to feel the need to justify his attire.
"Oh, well pass it along to him that I hope he feels better soon."
"I'll do that, I'll do just that..." Russell yawned, coffee mug in hand. The sound of bare feet bounding down the steps came from inside and Thomas appeared, looking pale and tired.
“Young man, you ought to be resting!” Darcy poked her head around the corner to half-heartedly scold him.
“I’ll go back up in a minute, Ma, relax!”
Russell scowled at him.
“Did Pop show you this?” he asked, grabbing something off of the kitchen table and pressing it against the screen for me to see.
"Is that what I think it is?"
"Only if you believe it to be a Geiger counter."
“I figured we ought to have a few at the station in case we… Well, you never know these days,” Russell said grimly, “They’ve been giving off odd readings though.”
“Have they been calibrated?”
“Do you really think I didn’t zero them in?” Thomas answered before his father could speak.
“It’s just a question… Were they stored with packets of desiccant? Have you made certain that the ionization chambers have not rusted? That the welds are intact? They will be useless if any air gets inside.”
Thomas looked toward Russell to reply.
“I… don’t know. Well, Leroy, Thomas always told me you were sharp,” Russell said, seeming to have gone from seeing me as a child to an equal in that moment. Darcy reappeared around the corner.
“Thomas, get back in your room and rest!”
He grimaced at her.
“I’ll be better in a day or two,” he grumbled, “I’ll see you then.”
“Feel better. Good to see you, Sheriff,” I said, turning to depart.
“One moment, Leroy,” he called, and I returned to the porch, “Have you ever been to the library in Augusta?”
“No, sir. I’ve never been to Augusta at all.”
“You don’t say? Well, with as much as the two of you read, it occurs to me that it would be a worthy pilgrimage to make. What do you say we all take a trip down once we’ve recovered? I imagine they have a few books in the capitol library that you could never find in our little town.”
“I… I’d love to, Sheriff,” I murmured, flustered by this act of kindness, “I’ll… I’ll ask my father.”
“Good man. And Leroy, you may call me Russell,” he smiled.
​
This was the night that the monster visited me.
It waited until my sheets were soaked in cold sweat and my teeth chattered uncontrollably to make itself known.
It rose out of the darkness, a form that slowly took shape out of billowing shadow. And then it was before me. Massive. Cadaverous. Its suppurating flesh crudely sewn together in multicolored patches.
But worse was its grin. Something so hideous was not meant to express the joy it conveyed from the cruelty of its intentions. Blackened teeth and bloodshot eyes bore into my very essence as the form of Mary Shelley's literary creation was brought to fruition before me. The scream in my lungs would not release itself. It felt as if a great weight had settled over my throat and ribs.
But no, it was the screaming in my ears that made the tapestry of my nightmare begin to fray.
My eyes shot open and the tethers of sleep paralysis released their grip on my limbs.
There it was once more, shrill and agonized, the sound of something suffering in the throes of its final moments before death.
I was on my feet. My door slammed against the wall. My father's door was already open. As I careened down the hallway I was just able to make out his silhouette, a shotgun in his hands.
"Stay here, Leroy," he barked.
A change had come over him. He was no longer the stiff-limbed, patient father I knew. His posture straightened, his voice was callous. He burst into the night, once more a soldier storming into battle. Even in my panic I could not help being awed by the transformation I had witnessed.
A shot fired…
And another.
Then a complete and deafening silence.
I crept to the door, pushing it open just enough to peer out. An impermeable fog clung to the air, making it impossible to make out anything past the porch.
"F-father?"
My toes were on the top step now, slowly inching their way to the damp grass.
Still. Silent.
"Dad?!"
The owls began hooting and the crickets started up their chatter once more. Altogether, the creatures around seemed to release a breath they had held collectively. Even the fog relinquished its grip on my vision.
I could just make out his slumped form. My feet slapped against the cold earth as I sprinted my way toward him, anticipating the worst.
"Dad, are you okay? Dad!"
Then he was on his feet once more, gripping me by the waist and hoisting me up.
"There is nothing for you to see, Leroy... Nothing at all. Close your eyes, son. Please, close your eyes…"
Despite the desperation and sincerity in his voice my curiosity got the better of me. I squinted through my eyelids, just able to make out the pile of scattered limbs through my lashes. I forced bile back down my throat and clenched my eyes tightly, shocked to find myself wishing to return to the nightmare that had awoke me.

---After some time has passed.......
"How should I put it...... you both look so good together that it's almost too good to be true"
"Yeah. I think you're right"
Liscia sighed in admiration and I nodded my head in complete agreement. Tomoe and Ichiha were now in front of us, dressed in their wedding attire. Today is their wedding day, and instead of the dress and tuxedo that are common attire in the Kingdom of Friedonia, they are now wearing traditional Japanese wedding attire: white kimono, tsunokakusi, and montsuki hakama.
"Thank you. Big brother and Big sister"
"Th-thank you very much"
Tomoe, dressed in plain white, smiled beamingly, but Ichiha, dressed in Hakama (traditional Japanese male formal attire), looked nervous and stiff-shouldered. Incidentally, these outfits were used by people of high rank in the Nine-Headed Dragon Archipelago Kingdom for wedding ceremonies. I felt that the culture of the Archipelago Kingdom is a mixture of Tang Dynasty and Edo, but the wedding ceremony seems to be Japanese style. Then Liscia looked seriously at Tomoe's outfit and said.
"Both Tomoe and Ichiha usually wear this kind of clothes. Maybe it's only natural that they both look good"
"Well, when Tomoe was little, her clothes were things I made myself as a hobby"
When I first met her, she was wearing ragged clothes that looked like a refugee's kantou gown. After becoming Licia's adopted sister, I made Japanese-style dress-like clothes as a hobby and gave them to her as gifts, but it seems that she became accustomed to wearing such clothes and ordered clothes with similar designs from the 'Silver Deer Store' after she grew up.
Ichiha, on the other hand, was able to wear the crested hakama without difficulty, partly because the clothing of the Duchy of Chima was originally more Asian in origin. Apart from the two of them, Hakuya and Excel also usually wear Asian outfits, and now that I think about it, it is probably the result of designs that once existed in the world I was in that have remained throughout the ages. Then.......
"Oh my. You two look so wonderful"
"Yes. They truly look like the brides and grooms of the 'Nine-Headed Dragon Archipelago Kingdom'"
Shabon and Kishun came and complimented them. Behind them, Princess Sharan, who had pulled Prince Sharon's hand, discreetly followed behind her parents, hiding in the shadows. Then Tomoe's face lit up when she saw Shabon.
"Shabon! Thank you so much for lending me such a beautiful outfit!"
"I am glad you like it. That attire has been handed down in the Nine-Headed Dragon Archipelago Kingdom family, and I myself wore it during my wedding ceremony"
"What, are you sure you wanted to lend me such a precious thing!?"
Tomoe was blinded with surprise. Yeah, I was surprised too. I was grateful that they lent her such nice attire, but I wonder if this is a national treasure class attire. In contrast to our speechlessness, Shabon was smiling at us.
"I do not mind. The royal ladies wear these garments only once in their lifetime, so their next appearance will be at Sharan's wedding, no matter how soon it may be. It would be better for the outfit to be used to promote weddings in our country than to be put away until then"
Shabon says it with a carefree smile. Indeed, this wedding is part of the bridal business that Roroa and Lucy are promoting, and will be broadcast live to our country, the Archipelago Kingdom, and other countries that want to play a part in the bridal business, such as the Republic of Turgis and the Euphoria Kingdom. If we can convince unmarried women watching this broadcast to want to wear Archipelago Kingdom-style outfits and hold their ceremonies in the Archipelago Kingdom, it will be in the national interest for the Archipelago Kingdom.
Shabon is becoming increasingly formidable and reliable as a queen.
"Big sister Tomoe......looks absolutely wonderful"
Princess Sharan said with a sparkle in her eyes. Tomoe looked like a mixture of happy and embarrassed, and unfolded the kimono to show it to us.
"The outfit that Lady Sharan will eventually wear. I'll borrow it just for today"
"Will I be able to wear it too?"
"Yes. Certainly someday"
That little Tomoe is acting as an older sister to a girl who is about the same age as she was when I met her......it's something that made my eyes burn.
"Tomoe's......really grown up"
"I saw Inugami express the exact same sentiments earlier"
Liscia, who heard my muttering, said, slightly taken aback. Tomoe's family has seen this bridal gown one step ahead of us. Inugami, who was dressed in formal attire from the neck down but still wore a mask, was so moved that he was sobbing so hard that his mask was blotting out. I remember her mother, Tomoko, smiling and consoling such a troubled stepfather.
......Yeah. I felt a little calmer when I remembered Inugami's weeping. The theory is that you can calm down when someone more distraught than you is nearby.
"But Tomoe Chima, huh. You're leaving the castle, aren't you?"
“It must be pitiful for a newlywed to live in the castle. Well, Tomoe is the chamberlain, and Ichiha lives in the castle and goes to the castle every day because he has the Prime Minister's job, so it doesn't make much difference. I heard that Inugami and Tomoko are going to run the estate given to the Chima family"
"Rou's getting big now. Will Belle be raised in the territory?"
Rou is Tomoe's younger brother and Belle is the girl born to Inugami and Tomoko. Rou, who is now about middle school age, was trained by Inugami and is in the Officer's Academy. Belle is a little girl who looks like Chibi Tomoe, and she was named after her father......I wonder what part of Inugami makes her Belle.
As I was thinking this, Lucy, the facilitator, came in.
"Come on, come on, you two, it's about time. Everyone's been waitin' for ya"
""Yes""
Then we moved to a place where my family, Tomoe's family, two schoolmates from the academy, and others had gathered. Ichiha's relatives, Yomi, Sami, and Nike, who hold important positions in other countries, could not come due to security and schedule constraints, so they were limited to sending gifts of local products from their countries as wedding gifts and congratulatory messages over the broadcasts.
The two were in splendid form, and those who had gathered there were in awe of them.
"Tomoe, you've become really beautiful"
"Hohoho, that's right. This is what it feels like to give your daughter away in marriage"
It was my in-laws, Lady Elisha and Sir Albert, who said that.
"Um, there's a married daughter here too, you know?"
Liscia said with a slightly displeased expression, and they chuckled.
"In Licia's case, it was as if she had taken our son-in-law. She is still in the royal castle, and I didn't feel like I gave her away as a bride"
"I can't help but look at it as a royal wedding ceremony. On the other hand, Tomoe is my adopted daughter, so I can send her off as my daughter without any reservations"
"Something doesn't add up......"
Licia gave my in-laws a cold stare, but they passed it off with a cackle and a laugh. While her adopted father, mother, and big sister were saying such things, Tomoe and Ichiha were surrounded by the usual group of Yuriga, Lucy, and Velza.
"......It's frustrating to say this, but you look beautiful in that outfit. It suits you"
"Hee hee, thank you. Yuriga"
"I'm glad ta hear Yuriga's honest praise for Tomoe. It must be rainin' for Yuriga to praise Tomoe so honestly. It's not good! If it suddenly rains, it'll mess up the ceremony arrangements! Yuriga, please! Please be your usual, prickly self!"
"What the heck are you talking about!?"
Yuriga was pulling Lucy's cheek. It's an exchange that hasn't changed since they were young. Ichiha and Velza, who are in the circle, are also smiling and watching the exchange between the three. And then,
"Oh, yeah"
Suddenly, Tomoe-chan clapped her hands. When she sees Carla (who is assisted by the attendants of the royal castle in this wedding ceremony), she calls out to her.
"Carla. Can you bring me that thing?"
"Ah, yes. Understood"
Then Carla ran off somewhere and came back a short while later with something in her hand. It was a bunch of pure white flowers, and it was a......bouquet? Why would they use it in a Japanese chic Archipelago Kingdom-style wedding? As I was wondering, Tomoe accepted the bouquet from Carla and held it out toward Velza.
"I wanted to give this to you Vel"
"Wha, for me?"
Tomoe smiled at Velza, who looked at her with wide eyes.
"Yeah. I'm not going to use a bouquet. Today's wedding is in the Archipelago Kingdom-style, so we won't be using bouquets, but Yuriga and I received bouquets from Taru and Leporina for 'future brides' at Kuu and his family's wedding. Vel's getting married to Hal, right? That's why I wanted to give you this bouquet"
"Tomoe......."
Velza received the bouquet and held it to her chest with tears in her eyes.
"Thank you so much. I will definitely be happy!"
"That's a bride's word, ain'it? It's not Velie who's gettin' married today!" (Bish)
"Ahahaha......indeed you are right"
Lucy gave a snappy comment, and Ichiha laughed as if he was troubled. Then Yuriga said to Tomoe, who was giggling as well.
"Are you sure you want to do that? You're the star of the day, aren't you?"
“I like Vel’s natural side”
"But, maybe they'll misunderstand that it's Velza whose marrying Ichiha......"
"......Ichiha is my husband, okay?" (smiles)
"Don't give me a strange intimidating impression! Your smile (black aura) scares me!"
Little Tomoe......no, is it Tomoe already? You've grown up......in many ways (far too many). With such a normal scene, Tomoe and Ichiha's wedding ceremony went off without a hitch. The upper class in the kingdom became aware of overseas weddings after watching the ceremony, and among the general public, weddings in the style of the Archipelago Kingdom (of course, traveling to the Archipelago Kingdom is too expensive, so people simply have an Archipelago Kingdom-style wedding in the country) became a boom, albeit a temporary one.
But that boom, too, would be renewed at the time of Velza's marriage.

this is going to sound extremely stupid but hear me out, to give a bit of background i (18F) and my mum have never had the smoothest relationship and i’ve stopped being lovey and cuddly towards her ever since i was 14 i don’t even say i love you we just kind of acknowledge it? because we have it rough i don’t like family pictures i feel awkward and i feel off it’s been like that for years and my mother only does it her way and always shows off the pictures to everyone despite me or any of my other siblings not liking it
i had my senior prom recently i was sick on the day and when i woke up i had two hours to get ready i didn’t mind being late i wasn’t part of the student committee so i wasn’t expected to be early and i’ve echoed that message to my mother. however as time went on and as my sister (28F) was helping me get ready my mother sent her voice messages yelling for us to hurry. it was about 6:20 (prom started at 6) when i came down she was fussy, started commenting on how inconsiderate and late we were and that we don’t have time for anything despite the fact i told her we were not in rush and i grabbed my shoes she said to take a photo and i did because the person who helped tailor the dress wanted to see me in it we took the picture no problem, my mother by then had already rushed out the door and went to the car. she dropped me off, not speaking a word.
the real issue starts the next day, otw back from prom she still didn’t speak to me and the next day i was woken up to a phone call from my dad (i also do not have a good relationship with him either) he called screaming and yelling saying i was ungrateful and that i treat them like garbage that they do everything for me and that i couldn’t even take a simple picture some other nasty things were said he told me and i quote “you need to drop to your knees and beg her for forgiveness she doesn’t even want to go to your graduation”
so i went downstairs because i’d rather get this mess over with i dropped to my knees and apologized she did not accept she said i was ungrateful that i only viewed the world how i wanted to that the world only revolves around me that i only need her during my tough moments and that i don’t need her when i’m having fun that i did the same thing last year and didn’t take a picture with her that i only do things that benefit me and she said she’s no longer going to my graduation and that i should go alone or just my siblings because i’m no appreciative enough of her and everything and that i should just go and observes everyone else’s family come. she compared the situation to one of our close friends who’s daughter recently kicked out their mother from her house leaving her stranded
that was my breaking point that was not something i could handle i did not think it was fair for her to compare the situation so i left and went back to my room
i don’t mind if my mother doesn’t come to my graduation she hadn’t come to any of my other events (i understand she was working but she’d never supported me in many things and even threatened to take certain opportunists away as a means of punishment despite me achieving them all on my own)
i’ve offered to her that i could wear the prom dress again and we can take the pictures when everyone is ready because the second thing one the day my mother was wearing her regular house dress my sister was in her pjs and my younger brother was in his home clothing, my mum always made a fuss about us having to look good in photos so what’s the point in taking one of no one is ready? apart from me?
she said she got ready just for the picture and i couldn’t have just forgot that she wanted to take one but i don’t understand why she couldn’t have told my siblings to also get ready then we could have taken one quickly and left? it’s a weird situation

mostly just a vent, advice if you have any? not expecting any though, I just need to vent also not proofread, sorry
the following is very long, tldr I am incredibly lucky and well off and have every reason to be happy but I'm a shitty selfish person who wants easy instant gratification more than to improve and I can't get myself to care about anything enough to try hard enough
I have grown up in an upper middle class family, my parents are cheap because they grew up poorer then dirt but I have never felt insecure about money or that my needs and wants weren't met financially. my parents have some issues, products of traumatizing childhoods they treated with alcohol when they were younger and now they try and ignore, but they are certainly not awful. My dad can irrationally angry and yell, my mom will flip from being the most loving adoring person to seemingly despising me over the exact same thing, but I have in no way ever been physically abused and at worst maybe got a couple overly harsh words... well paragraphs (she does not know when to stop talking even when she's just digging a deeper hole for herself) from my mom. their worst attribute is probably just the gaslighting that fights never happened or went differently then I remembered but it's not that big of a deal and to be fair I have god awful recall so maybe they are right???
I have a wonderful boyfriend, he lives across the US from me right now because his dad is in the coast guard but we spent a very nice couple months together and are still going very strong. he is the most kind, loving, and supportive person in the world, I love him more than I knew I could love anything.
I don't have many friends because I either pushed them away directly or indirectly because I am a shut-in online college student and will forget to respond to text messages for weeks sometimes, but I have a couple who still try even despite how god awful of a friend I am.
I am not doing the greatest in college, but I am not doing terrible either, my state has the Running Start program where you can take partially school-funded college classes from the local community college to count as high school credits junior and senior year, I've been doing that the last 2 years. I am graduating from highschool next month and from college with a business associates next year in March hopefully. I also skipped kindergarten, meaning I am very far ahead in things.
I am in discussion with a local CPA accounting firm about a part-time junior accountant position which is an incredible opportunity in the accounting field as is regardless of how young and relatively inexperienced I am to be having these conversations. It's one of the few things I'm actually good at (at least so far) that I don't despise AND makes good money, I am very excited for it.
I am a trans guy, took me a while to realize it because I tried so hard to convince myself I just needed to "be a girl better" and that's why I hated myself, literally made my own "girl-bootcamp" where I tried to teach myself to be a girl in the most toxic feminity misogynistic way possible like a fool. I'm out of it now though! I am dressing the way I want, I go by a preferred name now, I was out in my highschool's theatre program and everyone was chill with it, I am not working right now so I'm not stuck getting dead named and misgendered all day anymore, and I just had my first appointment with the best gender clinic in my state and I'm supposed to start testosterone in a month. I should be happier then I've ever been.
but in the last month I almost killed myself 3 times, I had only gotten that close to an attempt once before. I've gained this sickening awareness, now that I've met all the imaginary conditions for happiness and success, that I am not getting any better, and it's because I don't want to.
As a kid I daydreamed so hard about the future, so sure the future would make everything better for me, that I became a maladaptive daydreamer and I am still no better about that to this day. eventually I stopped being able to imagine having a future at all, any event planned to happen past this afternoon doesn't feel real until it's occuring. I got out of toxic friendgroups, got in a relationship, got out of it, did therapy, got ADHD meds, did more therapy, got antidepressants, did virtual intensive outpatient therapy, did more therapy after that. I got good grades, I discovered myself, I got a job, I dropped the job to focus on school and myself, I fell in love, I make planner after planner after planner trying to organize my life, I try everything I can to find things I enjoy doing that make my happy and might give me motivation, I have did everything I was supposed to and I am the same trash I was at the start.
I take a shower maybe once a month I brush my teeth maybe once every couple months I eat average 2 meals a day, often just one I stay up late into the night, sleep long into the morning, or fall asleep a 6pm and wake up at 6am, I fall asleep all the time randomly and fatigue clings to me like plastic film I pace for hours and hours daydreaming, or ranting out loud to myself when I'm home alone I doomscroll until my eye sockets feel hollow I play stupid games I know are wasting my time when there are urgent things to be done I rot. I lay in my bed in rot. I sit on the couch and rot. I pace in the kitchen and rot. I sit on my phone and rot.
I can not control myself, I only care about self-fulfilling instant gratification and nothing else. eating is hard and I don't like it, won't do it. showering is hard and I don't feel like it, won't do it. brushing my teeth is hard and I am tired, won't do it. going outside is hard and I know secretly they can't help but judge my stupid girly voice the moment I open my stupid fucking mouth, won't do it studying is hard and I am too stupid for this shit anyways, won't do it
I am not getting better, I am only getting worse. I am at the highest dose of ADHD meds I can comfortably take before the side effects start to bug me, I take a pretty high dose of anti depressants. I know I am chemically better than before, it's not raw exhaustion and disinterest and misery, I get very happy and excited and energetic, but only if does something for me NOW. I get excited about dandelions and weird bugs and Hank green tiktoks and playing Stardew valley and city bus rides and zoos, but only in the moment and once it is gone I am hollow. if something is at all out of reach, no matter how good it is, how much ecstatic euphoric joy it brings me in the moment, I will not fight for it. no matter how miserable I am, if improving the situation is perceived as even slightly more uncomfortable for the tiniest moment, I won't do it. I sometimes have... bladder control issues, absolutely not fucking fun. I used to be so ashamed and proactive about it, and I still feel awful and disgusting and ashamed, but if it's the usual small amount where I can convince myself "it'll dry", I'll literally rot in my own filth for a week or so. it's disgusting, I am disgusting. I have been trying so hard to do better but it's never enough because I can't put my full heart in it, I just want my simple easy pleasure and then die. I am still trying to keep up with things, but I am continuing to worsen. the same cycle happened to me with both jobs I worked, I'd start out a star employee, learning really fast, showing up early, being very responsible, then I'd progressively show up a little later, just barely on time, a minute or two late, 5 minutes late, 10, 20, I call out "sick" an hour before my shift, I do this a couple times, I put in my two weeks/quit. I make up some excuse, usually some mysteriously serious and private family matters, and rot in bed because I fell behind on work or just couldn't find the energy to go and then I realized I'm a shitty employee and leave. I am at the "realizing I'm a shitty employee and leaving" stage in my life as a whole, but that's not allowed. Giving up is a terrible sad tragedy, but the only cure to sadness is to want to be happy. The only way to get better is to want to improve and push through the hard times and work hard and someday things will be easy and good. There's no cure to being the selfish asshole who cares more about not having to brush my teeth then living for my loved ones. I don't want to fight anymore, I am tired, the fighting isn't making me better, my ADHD and depression and arfid all keep from doing the things to fight my ADHD and depression and arfid enough as is, simply not having the will to fight is the final nail. I'm so tired, I want to take off from school and ignore the job opportunity and ignore any needs or responsibilities or meals and just play games and watch science videos and walk around town solely just to walk and look at things in stores I'll never buy and make weird clothes and pick flowers and impulse buy that Amtrak ticket to Monterey so I can visit the aquarium and sleep outside because I'm too young to book and stay in a hotel room alone and catch a bus going somewhere I don't know just to see where I end up and walk through the woods behind my house and try to find animal bones or a snake or something, I want to scream and cry and tear myself to shreds and laugh until I can't breath and spend every second and those awful unproductive dangerous stupid expensive waste-of-time wonderful perfect soul-filling tiny tiny little moments and then just drop dead. no more responsibility to anyone, certainly not myself, just ecstasy and permanent sleep.
it's not fair, I don't deserve that at all, it's selfish to want it when every person in my life has been through so much worse and are doing a thousand times better, I'll hurt people, life isn't that hard, ADHD and depression and common and executive dysfunction happens to people all the time and they do incredible amazing things and all I'm asked is to eat my dinner, take my 2 online college classes, and not fucking kill myself and I am failing at all 3 and I don't deserve to be getting away with this, even if I live but keep up tis behavior I will hurt people and ruin myself, but I just don't care enough to try because at night when I'm standing in front of the bathroom door, more than enough energy to brush my teeth for two minutes, knowing I should, knowing it's easy and fine and good for me and I need to I really need to, I still turn my head and walk into my room. I yell at the people trying to help me, I shove everyone away, and ruin my own life again and again and again and I'm never going to stop because I don't want to. I am shitty selfish person and I don't fucking care and I want to care but I just can't fucking care.