Aldo Purse; Unknown Cardigan; Rodarte Shirt; Unknown Skirt

5 feet. :)

Dynamite Pleather Jacket; H&M Purse; Thrifted Shirt; Payless Booties.Mmm, Oreo thins!

Holla
So we guess "coming soon" was a bit of an understatement considering this post is pretty much a month late... But anyways, Why this name? Because we think that if everyone dropped clothes instead of bombs, the world would be a happier place (PLUS WE DA BOMB!)
Disclaimer: Our title does not promote nudity. In fact, it is a serious issue that children are exposed to nudity so much in our society, forcing them to grow up. Not cool, but we still are! Awesome.

SHEILA: THE WHITE ONE
Testing testing un deux trois!
Bonjour amigos! I'm Sheila and I like to think I’m bilingual even though the extent of my language knowledge includes English, some French, and random words picked out from other dialects that when formed in a sentence are not comprehensible whatsoever. But this blog isn't about my lack of bilingual sentence structure; instead it’s about a girl with no life who lives off of Perez Hilton and fashion blogs. Similar to my granny sounding name, I like to think of my style as old fashion - but not to the point of wearing lacy turtle necks and dresses that flow below your toes. I'm not the most fashion conscientious person considering I am currently wearing a shirt with a rather large armpit hole, but all the same, I hope you enjoy dawdling along my blogging "journey" as I attempt to overcome horrid fashion trends and strive towards the ones worth striving for.

FIONA: THE MUSTACHE
Hi, I'm Fiona & I don't really have a mustache. If I did, I'd shave that bad boy every morning and at five o'clock. Sheila said I'm "city chic" even though she doesn't know what that means, and I don't either. I like wearing heels because I'm a bit short of five feet (even though whenever people ask, I simply reply "Five feet baby!"). To see me NOT wearing leggings or tights is like to see a lunar eclipse: it happens, yet it's quite rare. I haven't really found my "style" yet, so I guess this blog plays a part in my "teenaged girl trying to find her identity" journey. Which is quite difficult since I'm a poor little girl who longs for clothes too expensive for her wallet's taste. I like thinking I have wit, and EDGE.. even though I've been told before that I belong in a fairy tale Cool beans!

SAMANTHA: THE SKY SCRAPER

The tall one.

The Ugg hunter.

The destroyer of all things Ed Hardy.

Just kidding. Maybe. I’m the one who rarely wears pants for some reason- Perhaps my love of skirts is too great, or maybe it’s my annoying habit of putting two legs in the same pant leg. One can never tell. On the rare occasions that I do squeeze into a pair, people usually come up to me with the same reaction one might have when seeing a real live unicorn, or finding a half-eaten slice of elderly cheese on toast purportedly showing the image of the blessed Virgin Mary. Anyways, I am Samantha. Call me Sam. I like long walks on the beach, romantic candle-lit dinners, and planning the assassination of Christian Audiger. I have no sense of direction when it comes to my style so I, like most of us here on DCNB, am just looking for something that works.

DANIEL: THE SPY PANTS
1. Manufactured by mother and father
2. Imported from Vancouver
3. 80% Filipino 20% Bitch
4. Machine wash warm
5. Tumble dry low

Well, now that you’ve gotten the basic structure of my exterior, I get can down to the soul, the grit of things. I’m pretty sure “grit” belongs nowhere in that sentence, but it sounded smart, so I shall leave it. I believe in tough love, sometimes, being an outright bitch to a certain extent, especially when it comes to clothes that are fuggers. So, I may seem harsh, but take it as constructive criticism. But onto more important questions that may boggle your mind, what’s my style? Well to begin, my style is...is... well, as my co-blogger put it – Classy Casual. But in my opinion, i have no idea. “Wherever the fashion path takes me” as I like to put it - what does that mean? Well, i believe that our fashion lives are like a gravel bound rode. we have the weeds, they represent the clothes we never want to exist but they do anyways, the pretty flowers, they represent the expensive clothing that we can see but not touch, then there are the pebbles. They represent the annoying child hood style in which our parents dressed us in. These pebbles tend to stick to our Steven Madden soles. They will only be gone until we pick them out and bury it so it is forever gone, only leaving the remnants of our embarrassing attempt to wipe it off the face of the earth... But on a lighter note, why did i partake in this online journal excursion? Because I wanted to, but it could also be because I’m lacking particularly in the “life” department. I mean, I have one; it’s just non - existent at the moment. Moving on, what do I have to contribute to this blog other than my incredible ability to calculate the total cost with taxes and subtracting the sale percentage from the lowest ticketed price? That may only be it. But in all honesty, let’s just say the guy side of things with a hint of bitch and style. Or style with a hint of bitch and guy. Or even bitch with a hint of guy and style. So that’s it. I leave you with the immortal words of Russell Peters “Just take it, and go!”