Cracks throughout the pavement and faded paint from years of sunshine bleach the building's walls. Broken meters line the street and every so often you'll find a bright-colored doorway. Some may not consider it the most glamorous part of our city, but these are things I'll remember and cherish. These broken meters you see are what I call "jackpot"; it's quite the thrill for a broke, college grad to find free parking. These splotchy walls are works of art to me. The colorful doors you see make all the difference to what could be "just another building."
As I spent time marveling in my favorite part of town, (OTR) on this day, I wore what you could call my "uniform": Mom's vintage denim jacket.. Mom's vintage heels... (all my cool stuff comes from her, as you probably know by now) cheap, gas-station shades, and $45 spent at a local boutique for what has now become my favorite romper—anything for a bargain, or Momma's hand-me-downs.