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We’ve reduced our prices and though, thanks to bureaucracy of banks, our store is currently $TILL under funstruction, you can hit us up for clothing by visiting our Etsy Store.
Or, just contact us.
Why You Always Eyein’ Me?
New World Order Is What I See
Drink The Blood n’ Toast to The
Let’s Wake Up n’ Break Free
The illusive illuminati is so0o0o0o trendy right now! Oh M Ghee, It’s poppin’ up all over your fav. pop songs n’ popcorn! From an occult sacrifice, comes a superstar… All you gotta do is fake it til ‘ya make it and sell your soul to Satan.
Anyhoo-ha, styles come n’ go… but jump on the #IlluminatetheIlluminati train n’ we’ll all be better off.
You might notice on the street, or caught a glimpse of a group of ’em at a recent rock show: avantgardsters- those post-hipster, blog-age club kid-esque individuals that glue this n’ thats to their face as part of their fashion-forward persona. In an age where hipsterdom has hit the mainstream, and in a place such as NatSel where ‘hip’ might as well be a prerequisite to read any article, the avant-garde has started to seep into some reader’s style.
Curly-cue mustaches are very “in the now” (if you’re a fuckin’ hipstah) but what’s the future of facial hair? Some wearers spike their jackets, others glue google-y eyes to their cheeks. Perhaps eyebrowcessories are the next big thing!
Accessorizing your brow may seem extreme while you grab your flannel and dash to the door- but why not take an extra fifteen minutes to funcessorize your face? Feelin’ glitzy? Go for the glitter eyebrow look. Feelin’ funky? Find fun stuff to adhere to your face. Feathers on the face look flirty. All it takes is a little spirit and lots of spirit gum- a special facial adhesive. If you’re on a time crunch or wanna be ballin’ on a budget, use clear nailpolish*- though don’t tell anyone you heard it from me. Get tacky with some glue- careful taking off the brow decoration, though. Always wait until the spirit gum is tacky. Perhaps a brow of pearls will look pretty or maybe you’ll look cool with confetti on your mug. Maybe miniature mirrors might mimic the glitterbrow with a shiny palate.
If you feel super committed to the controversial trend, dye your brow blue, or simply color it in with cyan to match your coat. The only limit to how and what to glue to your face is what will stay on weight-wise. Glue some stuff to your face and make for an avant-garde case.
*Natural Selection is not responsible for blindness due to acetate. Do NOT attempt.
Natural Selection efforts will temporarily be halted. I simply NEED a vacation! I will be back shortly and we’ll be in full force. Stay tuned for Kayvon’s fashion show- to be posted so0o0o0o0o0o0o0on
Here is a short video about what it’s like @t McLean Hospital…
RU a fungi? Hopefully not. Maybz, you’re a pretty plant. U could be an awesome animal or a fascist fashion dinosaur…
Lots’a people ask me: “What am I?” The whole point of Natural Selection is for you to decide for yourself. If you dress like a -ster, you’re either a plant, animal, or fungi-hipster. Butt how do you know if you’re a hipster? The difference goes beyond the cut of your denim.
The person on the left is a nowster. The person to the right is a fungi-hipster… not cuz of their plaid or cutoffs, butt becuz they’re LAME. Maybe they just got shitty music taste. Perhaps this tryster-nowster-inherent-hipster is a fungi-hipster for being elitist. Maybz they just try to be hip without their own spin on hip. The person on the left is kewl, the person on the right is subscribin’ to stoopid shit. Hipsters are tryster (try-ing to be) plants.
Scenesters are another type of alterna-fungi, that try to be hipsters via going to “shows” and “concerts.” Their style, though, is trying to be hipster-y, and THOUGH THAT AIN’T HARD, just misses the mark. Tryster-Hipsters like fungi, emosters, and ravesters are nasty.
Gothsters are gross…
Emosters are ALWAYS ewies… as are ravesters…
I understand the desire to wanna E-it-up, but, why wear wigs and rave-a-tize your arm with ‘candy?’ Go ahead, experiment with Ecstasy but don’t wear every single fucking color of the rainbow unless you do it in a quirkster way…
Can you determine the fungi from the plant in the above image? That’s (probably) right! The person on the left is a plant; the hippie on the right is a fungi. Hippies should stay in the sixties. Hippiesters are new generational hippies. A hippiester has hippie ideals, but dress and act like it’s 20__ not 196_.
Nowsters n’ newsters. Not to be confused.
What’s the diff between a newster (left) and a nowster (right)? A nowster is aware of waht’s hip and in the now; a newster is aware of the present while looking toward the future. Though not required, newsters are often dress to impress with their keen eye for what’s to come.
You can, howevzies, be a newster without that futurester edge in your look. Much like the difference between a hipster and a nowster. Those non-SUPER-well-dressing peeps tend to be leaders in their field.
Hiptestors, like the one above, are activists that wear their cause on their sleeve/face/chest/etc. HIptestors are like hippies and hiptestors, in a new generational, fashion-future way.
This is a meat-eating fashion dinosaur. Ya see, fashion dinosaurs are either lovers or h8rz. The one above is more focused on how they look than who they are. LAME. There are plant-eating fashion dinos, though. They often wear clothes they’ve made. Plant eating fashion dinos are aware of the new generation. Plant eating fashion dinosaurs have good ideals.
Now let’s discuss the majority of the fashion population: Nowies and Thenbies.
Bros and partygirlies are lame-ass-fuck. They let mainstream media determine dress.
Comfies and gymbies dress like they’re @t the gym always… They’re EWIES!
But what about a person that dresses plain (like a blandbie or plainbie) that are just fabo-people? A person with great friends, that is in the now, and who has stuff to say is a causter (causual-ster).
SO- u wanna know what UR?!
Refer to our updated graphic.
And remember: One can always be transphylogenic.
A whole lotta “straight” cis-gendered men ask me, “How do guys develop style?”
Here’s my answer:
Ok, dude, FUCKIN’ REALIZE that you were once a little boy TOUCHING OTHER LITTLE BOYS in your treehouse (or whatever) and STOP the INTERNALIZED homophobia… WE ARE ALL FAGz. “Guys” shouldn’t be afraid to have style cuz they’re AFRAID to look GAY. If you think you’re wearin’ ‘girl’ pants if they’re cut skinny, you oughtta realize that the only difference with ‘menz’ and ‘womenz’ jeans is in the bust/chest, waist/abdomen, and hip/hip… not forgetting a lil’ extra crotch length for your DICK. SO BE A FAG n DRESS THE FUCK UP…
…oh, and tie it all together with a funcessory.
DON’T BE A BLANDBIE just cuz you TOUCHED another BOY BLANDBIE in middle school…
Sum boi once told me, “Style should appear effortless.” Butt, lookin’ like you didn’t try too hard to get dressed takes a whole lotta’ fuckin’ effort. Let’s look at a quick n’ easy way to formulate an outfit- step by step.
1. Consider Climate/Wear For The Weather.
The night before you get dressed, look up the weather to plan ahead. OR, look it up before you shower (or not- if you don’t shower, ya grimester).
2. Determine Destination.
Know what you’re doing for the day and take that journey into consideration.
3. Build Your Getup Beginning With A Single Building Block.
Ya know, outfits don’t pop out at you- ya gots ta build yir outfit. Start with ONE article of clothing/accessory that is appropriate for steps 1-2.
4. Determine Look.
Consider color, pick out pattern, think about theme, touch upon texture, play with proportion, choose to be a character, or shake it up with shock value. After choosing a building block, look to the overall “look.”
5. Accent With Accessories.
Shoes. They’re mandatory- mostly. Use shoes to tie things together or act as an accent. After that, accessorize (or not).
6. Pick Out The Rest Based On Practicality.
You got the building block- then the overall “look” by determining color/pattern/theme/proportion/texture/proportion/character/shock value. Now, after choosing shoes and accessories- complete the outfit by simply putting on clothes that go along with the overall “look.” You can’t leave the house half naked (most of the time) so pick out the rest of your outfit to simply clothe yo-self.
‘Twas a crisp, fall day when I accidentally diddled a pig. My mother brought our family down to the local homecoming fair. It was one of those iconic New England fairs with hayrides, scarecrow building, face painting, apple crisp, cider, fried dough, and a lovely little petting zoo. I went around booth to booth picking and choosing what I chose to do. Finally, I found myself fun with farm animals.
It was probably one of those situations where you pay twenty five cents for handful of farm food. Then you feed it to fun, furry friends and pet them as they frolic. I was three years old when this all happened. I didn’t know any better.
My mother had left me under the supervision of the animal caretakers. Perhaps my brother was in some sort of pie eating contest. Perhaps my sister with buying a trinket of some sort. Whatever the case, I was all alone to roam with baby sheep, goats, pigs, and the like.
I was feeding a lamb lovely little pellets when a pig approached me. The pig was friendly and I got a little too intimate. I began to play with its cute curly-cue tail.
Butt, what was this little hole beneath its tail? As I played with the tail, I got more and more curious.
Then it happened. I touched his little butt hole, noted that there was an infinite amount of space for me to enter my finger, and went in for the plunge. I stuck my whole finger up that pig’s ass! Then, I knew it was time for me to take it out. But it wouldn’t come out! I yanked and pulled but my finger wouldn’t budge out of his butt. I became concerned.
“Mom?” I cried.
Like the light at the end of the tunnel, I saw my mom rushing to my rescue. Perhaps she was laughing. Perhaps she questioned what she had given birth to. Perhaps she didn’t know what to think. She pulled my little hand out of the little pig’s butt, washed me up in an outhouse, and that was that.
She still tells the story to this day. I wish I recalled this memory as vividly as her, because it makes for a fun little story about fingering a furry friend.
When I gazed over my shoulder on that sunny September afternoon, I spotted the paparazzi- fully equipped with his wide-angle lens. Was the bastard taking my picture?
I gave him the hairy eyeball and went off. I thought little of it. After all, I was wearing what I normally wore at that time: jean cut-offs, a second-hand button-up with a Mayan-inspired print, and my ‘lighter vest’, accessorized with white n’ blue wayfarer sunglasses, and my cow-print-bandana-as-a-headband.
“Whatever,” I thought.
Union Square park is not a place to judge- silly stuff happens ’round those parts often.
Months went by. I got a call from a friend…
“Have you seen Glamour?” She asked.
“Well, you’re in it.”
“Ugh- I’m a ‘Don’t’ aren’t I?”
I knew it. After I hung up the phone, I scootered to 7/11 to pick up a copy (or 10).
There I was, on the last page along with Snoop Dog and Brad Pitt- but in the ‘Don’t’s Smacked across and unflattering view of my face was a black bar and a caption reading,
“Rambo Headband: Rated D for Don’t. Sorry, buddy.”
Christianity’s a fallacy
Vanity’s our prophecy
World devoid of lord…
Shepherd or warlord?
Holy is inequity
World devoid of lord
Dear Jesus Christ,
I’m the antichrist
Here is my word
To the lord:
Satan, I pray
My agenda’s gay
The world’s at stake
Chosen by mistake
Jesus died for our sin
You’d need some thick skin
To take such a place
Yet it seems in this case
I’ve been sent from above
To replace evil with love
Follow me and you’ll see