VL

2010-02-24T17:53:00.000-08:00

2010-02-24T17:17:00.000-08:00

Appreciate the transiency of life. We spend so much of our brief existence taking it for granted, and forgetting how beautiful it is to be at peace with what we have. Our culture seems to have glamorized being bleak; we have made depression and pessimism and death into something fashionable. I wish we would band together to change that, and to create a desire for people to be happy and to hold an exuberance of life. Hating life and living a narrow introverted existence is easy when you are young, but when your youth is gone, you will miss it and you will regret not having thoroughly spent it in a way that is substantial and positive.

I admit, this may be a somewhat morbid topic for discussion; no one likes to think about the reality of our fallible and temporary existence, but it is there and it is staring us down. I feel I have not done enough to savor the past nearly two decades of my life; I have invested so much energy into staring at my feet and contemplating the romance of death, that I had not realized the beauty of life. I have spent so much time focusing inward on my own depression, that I forgot that we are all essentially in control of dictating our own happiness. I wish I had realized this sooner and done more in my life beyond myself.

What brought this about is the death of a family member. I have been estranged from my family for the last six years. I have not seen or spoken to them since I was twelve years-old when we were all in very different places in our lives. We have lost touch with one another and the changes that have occurred in our lives, and i have foolishly done nothing to reconnect with them. Having lost my grandmother, grandfather, and uncle already, my aunt is now in the final stages of terminal cancer as well. I have the rare opportunity now to reach out to her and to say "good bye", a privilege few have when it comes to death. I have been procrastinating on writing to her for months, because to put my "I'm sorry's" and my "I Love You's" on paper will reaffirm to me that I will never see her again. To reminisce of our past and tell her of my plans for the future seems unnecessarily morbid, but I know it will be healing for the both of us. I feel so guilty that it had to take her dying for me to talk to her, and even guiltier to know that I will never be able to spend time with her again.

When you are forced to become so intimate with real sadness and real death, it becomes difficult to continue putting it on a pedestal. We all have our moments when we need to brood, but don't let your entire life be defined by that; don't loose touch with others because you have been consumed by your own sadness. Enjoy the life you are living, because it is a unique experience that you will never have again. Death and loss and pessimism is not worth glorifying. Remind yourself of all the things and all the people that you find beautiful. And spend time with the people near to you because there is never any telling that they will be there to share the moment with you again. Put down your cynicism for a moment and hug someone, because God does not allow us the luxury of second chances.

That is all.

2010-01-26T17:30:00.000-08:00

i won't be posting from now on. Some personal issues came up and I am currently homeless and couch-hopping. Nothing deep, nothing fashion oriented, nothing profound or eloquent today, just some brief news. I don't expect to be writing in the near future as I am not even sure where I am going to be sleeping from now on. C'est la vie, one day I hope this goes away and everything works itself out.

UPDATE 2/3/10

Thank you everyone who commented or emailed me, I just wanted to let everyone know things are falling into place. A few days ago my boyfriend somehow coaxed his mother into letting me stay with them until I get my feet on the ground. My father has remained cordial and is letting me keep my things at his place until I can move them out. Maybe it is reading too much existential literature, but despite the initial shock of waking up the next morning and realizing that I did not have a home and if it were not for the generosity of friends and strangers, i would be on the streets, I've managed to keep calm. I cried my eyes out the first night, but after that it passed. I can sink of swim in this situation, and either way something will happen. Life will keep moving with or without me, and I am fine with that. I am at perfect peace with that. What use is there in fretting and worrying and crying over the inevitable, whichever course it takes? I have a place to stay right now and will continue to have a place to stay if I get a job and go to support groups. This is a feasible goal. I will not have a place and will lose the support of others if I do not do these things. Either way, I accept it, Amor Fati. Somehow losing your stability frees you because in having nothing everything is suddenly open to you. I can stay here and work on living, or I can leave the country and work on living there. My life has finally started. I have faced my fear of change by being forced into a situation prone to it. I am trying to keep my head above water and find a job and an apartment, and although it is difficult at times to remain motivated, it is somehow easier to do now than previously. I truly do, in a warped way, feel that this string of supposed unfortunate events will one day reveal itself as a blessing for me.
I don't know why this of all times has made me so, but I think I am being optimistic for the first time in my life.

people ask me a lot if I have any inspirations. Here they are.

2010-01-20T14:02:00.000-08:00

I have never been more turned on in my life. Music and fashion, my reigning desires. 2010 will be a good year if we learn from Osterman

i would also like to indulge in a bit of shameless self-promotion; I have a tumblr now (yeah, I'm a little late hopping on this band wagon) and I am trying my hardest to figure the damned thing out. It is currently 10% my own ramblings on music and film and 90% drawings and paintings I have done in the past year. If that tickles your fancy I would be honored if you would "follow" me :)

http://spiritualcramp.tumblr.com/

Why has unconventionality become synonymous with imperfection?

2010-01-16T15:31:00.001-08:00

I've been on this new "beauty" kick. I personally don't think beauty exists in the way that so many people seem determined to think it does. Beauty is nothing tangible nor finite, it varies depending on its cultural, personal, and historical context. Yet we are so arrogant as to believe that beauty is universal and never changing and all who fall short of this one rigid definition of beauty, or not. That they are ugly. Never has there been a word more foul, more degrading, more pathetic in it's attempt to be powerful. Let's dilute the corrosive power we have lent this word.

What do you consider to be beautiful? How do you define the word? What do you consider to be ugly? How do you define that word? Whose right is it to differentiate between the two?

I find the quirks in people to be what defines their charm. The atypical looking women are the ones I am most enamored by, the ones who look otherworldly, with faces that are too unique to forget. What is so beautiful about deliberately homogeneous features and fake yet sweet faced bodies who lose their forms when placed into a crowd? Enough with that. I want to see more blemishes and abnormalities, and more eccentric personalities because that is the light which shines through and causes these people to radiate.

This post is hence forth dedicated to all of the men and women I have found in my hours of googling, that have been called ugly, freakish, alien, and bizarre. Are they? Or is there an aesthetic appeal that the jaded masses are yet to realize? I will let you determine.

2010-01-09T15:38:00.000-08:00

American Apparel long sleeve u-neck dress

Vintage white heels

Vintage belt

Vintage lace sheer skirt

I'm working on a new post right now about beauty, since it has become such a fascination of mine. People are so quick to determine what is ugly, but have the most difficulty explaining what is beautiful. I've just about come to conclude that it is all just nonesense, a concept that is futile to define. Everyone is beautiful AND ugly simultaneously because neither words truly exist. It is a shapeshifter and a hallucination. To borrow from a cheesy quote, "Nothing is true, therefore everything is possible."

2010-01-05T13:50:00.000-08:00

Thank you all for bearing with me in my last post. i tend to get on my soap box often and for long periods of time, but it is a topic I feel very strongly about. So much of my life has been dominated by the subject; in many ways it is sad that the most important years, my adolescence, was occupied doing nothing but fretting over weight. I regret that deeply sometimes because of the strain it has put on myself and my loved ones. BUT i try to see a silver lining. If I can take that experience and turn it into something good, something educational, then nothing was wasted and nothing was in vain.

My goal in life is to somehow make a difference in someone's life and accomplish something greater than myself. I have always envied in a way previous generations and the youth of other countries who still have a struggle to fight; they have a purpose and a unified cause for banding together, protesting, and motivating change. I feel we lack that in our society, and i feel I lack that especially in my life. I hate complacency. Although I will probably never be protesting in Iran or freeing child soldiers in Uganada, I do have goals for myself, albeit on a smaller scale.

I want to become a neuropsychologist specializing in the field of eating disorders. In my treatment, i was appalled by how little my doctors knew about the disorder, and how many of them relied on outdated facts and superficial stereotypes. Very few people saw it as a psychological illness, but as a petty self-inflicted "phase" that i would grow out of. I found the same stigma when it came not just to eating disorders, but depression, anxiety, bipolar disorder, and a host of other conditions. Since they are not tangible, people assume they are less important. I feel it is exacerbated for women, as there is an assumption that all women share this predetermined facte to be doomed and dramatic, and that we are all born mimicing Ophelia. I really want to stomp out that biased and untrue idea. I want to work with the brain and with patients to expose the parallels between eating disorders and biology. If people can be confronted with evidence that these disorders have a neurological component and that they are NOT always under the control of the sufferer, maybe then they would get more respect. maybe then the attitudes people have can change and people no longer have to feel ashamed or defecient because of what they are going through. One day!

Anywho, my Soap Box rant is over. I enjoy going off on these tangents sometimes, so forgive me if it is an utter bore to you ^_^ thank you all once again, and if you have any questions leave my a comment and i can do my very best to answer it for you.

I will get back on topic soon enough, though!

So I have a wee bit of an unusual fascination with the Victorian era, namely the clothing the children wore. I think my parents must ahve sat me down to watch far too many period pieces of PBS, but I have a definite obsession with the era now. I like dressing in a way that reminds me somewhat of that time with the stripes and the short children's cuts and the androgynous sillhuettes. Not to mention I like ripping my clothes up, too so I feel like a little chimney sweep. All I'm missing is a Bowler's hat!

I love the cool sophistication of the French New Wave, and how they expressed it with such ease. Never before had i seen stripes, jeans, a tee shirt, and an absence of hair look so good until Jean Seberg.

I like cheesy colorful vintage, images that look like they just popped right out of an infomercial from the 1950's. Sometimes there just comes a time when you feel the insatiable need to liven up the color pallette.

Semi Serious

2010-01-05T00:44:00.000-08:00

I have semi serious business to address, but seeing as it is 1 am and past my bedtime, i probably won't finish everything I want to say. First off, I would like to sincerely thank the few out there who have said kind words to me in regards to this blog, my lookbook, and the things I have divulged of my personal life. Thank you from the bottom of my crusty little heart! Fashion can be a vacuous realm, but I try to bring substance to it for myself. I try to see dressing oneself as the same as painting. I try to see trends and find their origins so I may draw inspiration from them. I try to find the cultural significance of garments. Even more importantly, i try to find the influence those garments have and the culture they create. Unfortunately, I find that that culture is a dark one that profits off of the homogenization and degradation of others. In today's fashion world, beauty has a definition as narrow and impossible as a waistline. The ideal of beauty has been tossed around over the decades and taken on a multitude of faces, from the rosy roundness of Medieval and Classical portraits, to the sexy buxom silhouette of the pin-up. Today beauty has transformed yet again, but she looks grim. We worship the glamorous, svelte, pallid, and starved. Why?

We are all aware that standards of beauty change and that thin and thick fall in and out of favor with the public. It is partially because society is fickle, and partialy because beauty is a refection of the state in which the world is currently in. The same goes for art! When industrialization took over, Romanticism became popular and a desire to revert back to a natural, mysterious world. It was a contrast to the bad things happening and a desire to escape it, beauty is escapism. In the Dark Ages when plump women were seen as beautiful, it was because so much of society was famished, starving, diseased, and sickly. The average person could not afford to become plump, thus it became a way of proving you had access to the means of caring for yourself. It was a sign of status, the unobtainable, and thus beautiful.

Contemporary western culture is in a very different place and perception of what is beautiful has been reversed, but just as obsessed with chasing the unobtainable.

The Victorians began obsessing over weight first, manipulating their bodies with corsets and abstaining from food. In these times tiny waisted thin women were praised. Their weight was a reflection of their spiritual devotion. The thinner you were was a proclamation to the rest of the world that you were so devoted to God that you did not need earthly pleasures such as food.The same BASIC mentality thrives today, but on a much more secular level. Today "skinny" is still a sign of status and power, but not in the name of spirituality. Thin is associated with will power, control, and class. Those perceptions don't randomly spring up, they have a cause. I think our fear of the obesity epidemic has catapulted society into worrying about being ultra skinny rather than healthy, as a means of proving themselves "better". better than the fast food industry, better than those without knowledge or access to good food, and better than our cultural dependency on eating in difficult times. And these are difficult times as we have a war, economic troubes, and a world transitioning into complete digitalization. Times of change and times of strife are almost always followed by a change in the standard of beauty. The full cause and scope of which won't be entirely clear until years from now when we can analyze it in retrospect. I can assure you though that "thin is beautiful" is not a finite statement and no one should feel ugly or belittled for not matching it...beauty is subjective, fickle, and changing.

Why do I care so much? Because I myself have been one of the deluded masses thinking that to be beautiful and valued I had to be thin enough to be non-existent. I am not one to hide secrets because I think honesty is a better remedy. I have had an eating disorder for the past 7 years of my life, which is a considerable chunk when you are just 18. The years I have spent meditating on measurements have not profited me one bit. I have not become wiser, prettier, more accomplished, better liked, or happier. It has robbed me of those things, but so discreetly that I do not notice until it is too late. I feel that the one way I can make the years I have lost not be in vain, is to make myself available as an example for others. To educate on the realities of eating disorders, to let people know it is not a deficiency, and to encourage others who still have a chance to turn around and realize their own true beauty before this disorder devours it.

I wish I could confess to every person in this world how beautiful they are, because even though they may not realize it, I do.

What motivated me to do this was seeing a post of me in an unnamed thinspiration group, and I debated for a good few minutes which course of action to take. i could ignore it, i could harass them for posting me, or I could just make my peace with words instead. I chose the latter. I found it very odd to see my face in that context because I do not see myself as being very significant, fundamentally pretty, or even that good of a person. I feel I have had so many problems,
and lived a girl interrupted sort of life, and have done nothing worth admiring in my life. So it was embarrassing to find that post, and even more so to see people degrade themseves in comparison to me, ME, a person my insecurities still tell me is a bad and ugy person. But I don't want others to be like me, don't lose faith in how original and fiercely beautiful you are. I am not in recovery at the moment but I am trying to make baby steps toward getting better. That road is difficult, and since I started my lookbook and posting in this blog, I have dropped 20 pounds. I have also been able to view myself and my disorder in a renewed light, and better understand what has been missing and what makes me happy all along. It was not the numbers that made a difference in me. It was not the heaviness or the resounding lightness that made me happy at last. It was the realization that big or small i had the right to be confident and content and it can be found anywhere. In being with good friends. In hearing good music. In buying nice clothes I could actually feel sexy in. it was in laughing and crying and feeling, and reaching out to others. It was in reveling in the vast mutitude of emotions that had been waiting for me stop looking at my waist line and finally see it. It is those moments of pure happy clarity that keep me motivated to continue trying to get better. I have been deemed a hopeless cause by parents, peers, doctors, and teachers, but I like to believe I am making my turn around. I have gone from 89 pounds and on the verge of death, to finally feeing hopeful for my future. I think I HAVE a future.

SO CHIN UP MOTHER FUCKERS. My heart is with you all.

Stockholm Syndrome is how I describe an eating disorder. After years of surviving under its captivity, you begin to sympathize with your torture.

Ritual, slavery, hope. I cling to the latter but am bound to the former.

Emptiness creates a sensation of euphoria. Purging unlocks a surge of endorphins and accelerates heart rate. Starving coaxes the mind into a malnourished high.

Pinch me.

There was nothing good about these days.

I used to be a different person. A "fat" person, an "ugly" person, but at least I smiled and meant it.

Extra Reading for the bookworms
BEAUTY

http://www.uhh.hawaii.edu/academics/hohonu/writing.php?id=87
http://www.media-awareness.ca/english/issues/stereotyping/women_and_girls/women_beauty.cfm

http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2010/01/does_a_naked_unretouched_super.html

http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2010/01/v_magazine_spread_1.html

http://www.uppitywomen.net/bimage.html

FASHION

http://nymag.com/fashion/07/spring/28149/

http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2008/08/step_right_up_for_your_free_ea.html

ED

http://www.something-fishy.org/

http://eatingdisorders.ucsd.edu/research/imaging/

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2009/08/090803092612.htm

2009-12-29T15:37:00.000-08:00

stuff to sell!

I am a bit of a pack rat and tend to hoard things, despite knowing they will never ever fit me. I have been holding on to some shoes for a while now and would love to be able to send them off to a good home at long last.

I have a pair of leather steel toed ox-blood 3-eye doc martens, made in England. These are the ORIGINAL vintage boots, among the last to be made in their Wollaston, Northamptonshire factory. They retail for about $160 (http://www.drmartens.com/ProductDetail.asp?PID=12877601) but I'm looking to sell them for the price they were originally worth way back when.

they have a nifty story for those of you who look for history with your clothes. My boyfriend whose father owns apartments, was doing construction on a building that was now vacant. While tearing the place down, they found boxes of old stuff. Among the piles of polaroid cameras, vintage clothes, and toys, were these boots. they still have the price sticker inside, which reads $59.99. there is some minor scuffing on the toe, but it's in otherwise great condition and don't appear to be worn often.

I'll pretty much give these to whoever can offer me the best. thanks to that steel toe in there these fuckers are heavy so if you are international I'll have to account for shipping in the price.

UK/men's size 5 (US 7, but fit's more like 8)

Great Condition

$50 or best offer

Next up is a pair of vintage deadstock Granny boots by Danex. they are a soft white leather with plaid lining on the inside. These are virtually brand new and I only wore them once, BRIEFLY, just to discover they were way too small. They were a gift from my brother so they have some sentimental value to me, but I will part ways with them. i have enough ill-fitting shoes lying around.

US size 7, but fits small

Excellent Condition

$30 or best offer

I received a pair of vintage Justin Roper boots as a gift from a girl in San Francisco. She had purchased them just because she loved them and held on to them for years, despite knowing full well they were not her size. I fell into the same position. they are a pinch too tight and I don't feel like putting my feet through the pain. they are in great condition, nice red leather and a detatcheable frill at the bottom.

Sold

I have no idea what brand these are. They are vintage and in need of love! The inside has no lining and the boots will need a new heel gaurd put in there, so they are not perfect. they are more of a working project if anything. What makes these unique is the leather; it is incredibly supple, and a great shade of deep burghundy. I love these and am tempted to keep them, but i just do not have the money to spend on getting them resoled.

US size 7 1/2

Okay, needs a new heel gaurd and to be lined on the inside

$20

Maybe not the right time of year for these, unless you think ahead for summer! I got these sandals years ago from a local boutique. too bad I soon realized I don't like sandals and never wore them again. they are leather, sturdy, and gently used.

US size 7

Good condition

$10

Great Condition Free People Dress size 4, $50

BDG cigarette cord jean with zippers, size 25, $25

Da Naang Track Jacket, sm, $25

Chinese laundry grey faux leather purse, $30

NEVER WORN 14 karat Real gold septum ring fr those sensitive to impure metals. 14-16 g., one screw one fixed. it sits high up in the nose so it is great as a retainer or if you need something easy to hide for school or work,

$45

Forever 21 Grey cage heels size 7,

$20

Andersen & lauth ruffled metallic sweater size sm but is a loose fit. Purchased for $95, worn to a dinner party once, and then not again. In great condition.

$45

blue hand-made vintage skirt, circa 1960's. i think it is meant to be high waist, and if so it fits a size medium 26 inch waist. I wore it low on my hips though, so it is versatile in size and fit =)

$15

green hand-made hippie bag from a street vendor in San Francisco

$10

mint green canvas sneakers size 6 1/2

never worn but have a very faint bit of writing in white ink on the side of one pair

$10

H&M Spain skirt
EU size 38, US size 8
26 inch waist, but i wore it low on my hips so similar to the blue skirt it could fit many sizes, depending on whether or not you wear it high waisted or not.
has a button falling off of which needs to be sewn on.
$15

Misc. assortment of crap that can be used for fabric. Just ask for pictures, sizes, etc. I have tops, dresses, sweaters, and knick knacks.

* price also depends a bit on how far away you live and how much shipping will amount to :) But I am always open for negotiations!

Expect this to be updated constantly

2009-12-28T15:10:00.000-08:00

visually stimulated.

Long before I learned about the actual designers, my introduction to fashion lay in the realm of photography. I couldn't pronounce any of the designer's names, but I barely cared because whoever they were, the final product was lovely. I don't consider myself much of a fashion oriented person but an artistically oriented person. My passion is for photography, painting, and today, sewing, finding, altering, and compiling outfits. As my mother, an artist and textiles major, helped me to discover, fashion is little different than painting. Photographing those masterpieces then, is a work of art on it's own. Fashion photography is liek theatre caught in amber; a photographer builds and executes a story in tiny frozen pictures, giving the viewer a glimpse into the lives and personalities of the people and the clothes they wear. Whether it is editorial or street shots of passers-by, I always admire an artist's ability for story telling.

So without further adieu, here goes a post for those visual individuals out there. Here is the stuff that captivated me in the first place.

2009-12-28T12:11:00.000-08:00

retrospect.

I am resisting the urge to shave my head again. My hair is about half an inch in the back already, but i have made this a challenge to myself to grow it out. its' my one new year's resolution, to not fiddle with my hair any more. The pay off will be well worth it if I can be disciplined enough to stay away from a pair of scissors. once it is grown, the final product will be a deathhawk. A beautiful messy towering deathhawk.

Speaking of resolutions, New Years is fast approaching. it is one of the few "holidays" I feel genuine excitement for these days. For a pessemist, I seem to enjoy new beginings quite a lot. I always look forward to being able to start new, and wonder what changes the future will yield (even if it is very few). I've spent the past decade so dissapointed by our current state, that I have done nothing but engulf myself in nostalgia. It seems that is all anyone has done these days. Fashion has not produced many "new" things, rather it has rehashed older trends. This year has seen everything from the flapper to the grunge kid resurface on store racks, like little tokens of appreciation for simpler days long gone.

I find myself day dreaming about how great life was when I was a little kid, Running around town in some acid wash overalls bone thugs playing from ever stereo. If I could live in a little bubble that was forever trapped in the year 1994, i would be content. Just imagine those days...long before ipods and myspace and reality TV. I fuckin' miss those days. I hope that 2010 and the years to follow will be a better place than the frantic post 9-11 world we've been living in. Here's to hoping we remember what the simpler days were like.

back to the 1960's

2009-11-17T13:26:00.000-08:00

HEY there's more, thanks to the wonderful SCUDA VINTAGE in LONG BEACH

I never realized how much I appreciated the 1960's until now. I was watching the movie Rosemary's Baby the other day, and was completely enthralled by their outfits. I'll most likely have a part II to my 1960's theme later on when I get the photos from my shoot for SCUDA vintage.

THERE WILL BE MORE HERE

2009-11-15T11:19:00.000-08:00

I am about to go and have burritos with my boyfriend because I am cold, and hungry, and in need of lunch; but before I depart I would like to preface what will soon occupy this space. As you have probably gathered by reading this blog, I am heavily inspired by the underground or counter-culture movements that have taken place over the years. A huge inspiration within the past few years has been the growing artistic community in Los Angeles.

When I was 15 I went to my first show in a crowded room filled like a can of sardines with about thirty smelly, sweaty, unusual looking people. We all congregated in this claustorphobic space and waited intently for the bands to play, and when they did, it was a religious moment. Your ears were ringing, your heart was pounding, and the throngs of people had become one big unified mass of dancers. Everyone was jumping up and down, swaying around, and just letting their limbs thoughtlessly drift to whatever rhythm the music possesed them to. I was drawn in from that moment on, and whenever I had five dollars and a ride to that seedy Los Angeles venue, I would go to the shows. There was an immense sense of community at these places, as if everyone were a family for the four hours of their night that they were there; everyone was happy, and no one judged.

Some of the most interesting individuals sauntered out to go to these shows and it was always fun to see the well-dressed hipsters mingle with the weirdos. It had been a while since I experienced that though, and for months I had no way to get out to Downtown, and I had no way to go to the shows. It put a damper on me for a long while, something was missing, that sense of freedom and kinship was gone.

Well Friday night the 13th my boyfriend and I gathered our spare change and made the mission out to Echo Park once again to see a monumental show. After all that time, and the place still looked the same albeit with a sprinkling of fresh faces. The crowd was still nice and supportive as ever, and seeing such an interesting assembly of people made me feel at home. It was the first night I was able to comfortably come outside and flaunt my shaved head WITHOUT a hat. Being around that place galvanizes you to continue being a fearless individual. What a beautiful thing that is.

Anywho, I'll be sure to share some pictures of the people and the venue and offer a teensy weensy glimpse into what a fabulous place Los Angeles can be for weirdos after dark.

Sorry for the very very extended hiatus

2009-11-15T09:52:00.001-08:00

being cozy is very important to me.

vintage boots - ebay

tights -forevr 21

sheer shirt - american apparel

sweater - GAP

I altered an old dress I found at a vintage resale shop, and made it so the shoulders could become detatchable and worn with any other piece! i have also begun layering my tights for optimal warmth :)

white shirt - handmade

black skirt - Ross

Tights - Marhsalls

Heels - scuda Vintage

Neutral colors, blacks, and whites interspersed with metalics and deeper hues; patterned tights, ripped tights, sheer tights, layered tights. Minis and bold shoulders, an element of dilapidation and the baroque. Minimal and Body conscious, oh yes.

I tend to get easily distracted when have nothing to do, apparently. I lost my job (if I could call it that) and my former employer went on to start a show on animal Planet instead of pay me. I may be harboring some bitterness, but oh well. Time to move on, trudge forth into this cold economic climate! I guess this is a lesson not to depend too heavily on under the counter jobs, especially if your boss' last name happens to be that of a terrestial body making him sound less professional and more like a deranged super hero.

ANYWAY. On to other things.

The temperatures are cooling at long last, and I absolutely adore the winter time. Sometimes I wish I lived up north so I could look forward to snow, and ice, and rain and good reason to whip out all the winter items I have been lusting after.

The inner goth and my love for drama flourishes at this time of year; it is an opportunity to find basics and make them extravagent...and warm. I'm making a new art project for myself and making some accesories, a pair of detatchable black shoulder pads and a hooded capelet. Capes and exaggerated shoulders with sleek sillhuettes and gaudy accesories are my obsession for the moment, too bad I am tight on money and thus cannot fully finance this obsession. In further attempts to stay warm, I cannot neglect to very important staples: tights and gloves. You'll become a popcycle otherwise. Tight leather of vinyl driving gloves WITH FINGERS add a nice touch to any outfit, as do a pair of smart or attention grabbing tights. Over the knee and thigh high stockings with garters and ripped nylons layered over sheer tights make me giddy. I am also broadening my horizons to the world of hats, especially wide brimmed beach hats and the timeless Cloche. I have a bald head now (oh my) and will probably be in desperate need for more hats come December.

Enough with my ranting; this winter you can also keep your eyes open for as many coats as you can humanly fathom. Strong lines and sumptious curves ranging from the classic Pea Coat to somewhat over the type glam furs. You choose, but beware of the tears PETA must be crying over all the leathers and furs this year! Be creative and liven things up with bold primary colors, plaids, and animal-inspired prints.

Now catering to the rest of your body, shoes and accesories. Dramatic and soaring heels, embellishments, and dare i say, some thigh climbing boots. Classic Oxfords, lace-ups and combat boots are always a nice addition, and what I would be most compelled to purchase and carry into spring.

And lastly, for not much purpose other than an aesthetic one, overly accesorizing with long draping, rustic jewelry, geometric pieces, and antiqued costume pieces. The bolder and bigger the shape, the better for rings and bracelettes.

Body conscious and minimalistic dresses with asymetrical cuts are sexy and sophisticated all at once; amazing, yes?

(images courtesy of alexander wang, acne, chanel, phillip lim, vivienne westwood, husseine Chalayan, madeherthink.com, colette.fr)

I am a nerd.

2009-09-30T12:01:00.001-07:00

There is absolutely no way of denying it at this point. Aside from the fact I can quote almost any given chapter of Lord of the Rings and know far more about Star Trek than is healthy, further proof of my unfortunate nerdiness is my affinity for Halloween. It's obnoxious; I usually start planning costumes before summer vacation is even over! Those costumes are almost always stupid characters that no one other than myself and maybe a handful of fellow nerds on the interwebs would even understand.

I love dressing up. I love costumes. I've known my costume since July.

TANK GIRL.
I got extremely giddy last night and shot a bunch of pictures. I am almost done with it (which is rare, despite lots of planning, I rarely follow through)!

20 eye doc martens = done
leather gloves = done
leather bomber jacket = done
fishnets = done
zebra bra = done
lipstick = done
helmet = done
helmet decorations; stickers, "meat is muder" written on front = 40% done
fake blood to give myself nosebleed
red suspenders
black bloomers or boyshorts
a bandaid
dye hair blue and shave half of head

I'm excited, the suspenders are in the mail as we speak; the best part is every item of my costume (minus the fake blood) I can wear any day of the year I want. Thank god this whole 90's pseudo-grunge tough girl revival thing is coming back. Tank Girl is going to be my fashion inspiration for the rest of the year, it's just so fun!

Street Walker

2009-09-27T21:34:00.000-07:00

my beloved tights

my beloved doc martens

american apparel U-dress

Burn out tee

Shame is a person's worst asset, and I am indefinitely guilty. I try my hardest not to be shy or self conscious of the things I like, and to treat my body as an uninhibited canvas; it is easier said than done however. When I was a kid I got a lot of harsh criticism for the way I dressed; someone grab the world's smallest violin because there is a mini sob story ahead:

When I was in middle school I visited my family in Germany and experienced this rare but wonderful thing called acceptance. I could walk down the street looking like as much of a freak as I wanted, and still be able to carry on my merry way without being bothered for it; in fact, there was a large chance there were other odd fellows just like you wandering the street. I loved it! At that age I was desperately trying to find my cozy little niche in the world, express myself, and figure out who I was. I felt comfortable doing that in Germany. Subculture and alternative fashion was in a way, accepted. Germany and England in particular have been dealing with subculture weirdos since the 70's now, so it makes sense. For the most part, they've reached the conclusion that just because it is different, it is foreign, does not mean it is a threat.

Returning to America however, was a different story all together. Parents didn't trust their kids around me, teachers thought I was about to go all Columbine on their White bread asses, and peers just kinda stared on mystified at me. I would get so ashamed that I would only go outside if I REALLY had to, as to avoid any more stares or comments from strangers. Eventually I just forced myself to change, stopped wearing the things I liked, and tried my hardest to blend in. I wag my finger in disapproval at that memory!

7 years later, and I still feel uncomfortable donning all black, wearing my makeup too dark, or god forbid, wearing a pair of combat boots. AND I FUCKING LOVE COMBAT BOOTS.

My Doc martens have been sitting on my bookshelf as if on display for the past year. I am going to start making a conscious effort to wear those gorgeous little devils in public more often. I am no longer going to try and tip-toe around my own idea of aesthetics; if I want to walk out the house looking like a Lost Boy's extra, so be it. YA HEAR ME WORLD??

Alright, end of rant. I encourage everyone to wear the things they want, regardless of how obscure or "ugly". Take pride in it, shame should be the only sin. As much as I hate to mention the woman (serious love/hate relationship) I thank Lady Gaga for not giving a fuck. I want to see more Kermit the frog suits fro now on, ya hear?

First Tuesday - Made In Huddersfield (Punk Feature)
by Saklas

Heute

2009-09-27T15:40:00.000-07:00

American apparel ripped tights

Urban Outfitters grey tunic

Paper-Doll LA bomber jacket

Belt

Vintage coat

Vintage bustier

Visual Auditory

2009-09-27T06:49:00.000-07:00

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

What is the soundtrack to your wardrobe?
I am one of those weirdos that listens to music virtually all day long, pausing sparingly. Silence is not an option in my world. The types of music I listen to vary and both determine and our determined by the way i feel at the give time. There is a place for everything to nest in my ears, from goth, industrial, electro, punk, grindcore, folk, jazz, classical, big band, noise, lo-fi, space-punk, weirdo everything...

My next post will be what is inspired by this music.

Hallucinations.

2009-09-26T18:50:00.000-07:00

blue thrifted dress

paper-doll los angeles bomber jacket

chinese laundry bag

urban outfitters studded gloves

I am going to devote this next post to the other half (some of it) of what this blog is to be about. I am deeply deeply nerdily obsessed with film, probably because I know I don't have a singly fiber of film-making ability in my body. I am content to live vicariously through those more talented than me, though.

I have another blog devoted entirely to film, which can be found at twistedcelluloid.tumblr.com; Excuse the copy/pasta ahead, but I'm feeling a little too lazy to write individual unique articles for both. Anywho, let's delve into something new:

A lot of different things can serve as musings for a person's style. Aside from music, film is a huge factor to me in determining my style and aesthetic preferences. For starters, I have a little obsession with the French New Wave, especially the work of Jean-Luc Godard. The women whom starred in his films were dangerously beautiful and sophisticated. Jean Seberg in 'Breathless' was as timeless and endearing of a beauty as Audrey Hepburn. Here goes a quick montage of films which I find beautiful and inspiring.

Brigette Bardot is an impeccable beauty, and Godard perfected 'French Cool'.

Jean Seberg is one of my favorites, and in this movie she has such a refined casual and naturally beautiful air about her; I love everything about this movie, it is suave as hell.

Classic silent film star with classic good looks and elegance which epitomize the glamor of the past.

A more recent film, I've always found myself attracted to the quirky disgustingly 90's look and feel of both the movie and the comic.

I have alway had a fascination with british subculture, and This Is England is one of the most authentic representations of Skin, Rude Boy, New Wave, and everything in between.

Where would I be without my Tank Girl? I do believe she is my favorite fictional character; just wait until you see my Tank Girl costume this Halloween!

Next post: the music that galvanizes me!

Premonition

2009-09-26T15:19:00.001-07:00

Fall is always my favorite season for fashion; I enjoy the darker hues, the sleekness, and the drama that tends to come out at this time of year. But unfortunately, the autumn months cannot last forever (for the rest of the word). I've been trying to think of how to continue incorporating the elements of this season with the drudgery that will be Spring. I abhor Spring. Until we start literally walking out covered in live flowers, Spring clothes will bore me. Pasty pastels, easter egg hues, light denim jackets, khaki overkill, I'm not looking forward to it. I for one will not opt to muse a goddamn easter egg on a Safari.

Anywho, Alberto Ferretti has some quaint pieces, not quite my style and a very bold contrast to Fall fashions, but I rather like it. Very light flesh tones, peaches, browns, and simple floral designs. The flowy material, light tones, and fitted coats remind me of some of the 18th century gowns. They make me want to walk daintily through some English country side.

Jil Sanders, Albino and Cavali continue with the theme of sleek, light, and airy pieces that beg the wearer to go out doors. Others harken back to the American West, featuring more rugged looks like denim and boyfriend jeans. In times of economic crisis, put on your finest pantsuit or cut out dress and go out for a picnic. Or a safari. That is what I have gathered so far.

If it had been retreated in any other material, I might have not wanted to gag while looking at it. I just cannot stand denim being used for anything other than pants,

I did really appreciate Vivienne Westwood's interpretation though; British Imperialism never looked so cute!

De Ja Vue II

2009-09-26T10:27:00.000-07:00

I seem to rant a lot these days about the crazy amount of "recycling" going on; not the eco-trend, but the recycling of past ideas and statements.

In the world of fashion inspiration is being heavily drawn from the 1980's and the 1990's. The latter disturbs me; shouldn't there be an unspoken rule that you cannot attempt to "bring back" a trend that we can still all distinctly remember? I wish this were true every time I walk into a store and suddenly find myself in 90's grunge heaven. I find the whole thing odd; when we are basing our generation on the past, what do we have to offer for the future? It is seeming much less like a case of drawing inspiration from the past, as a desperate attempt to mask the fact that all new ideas have already been exhausted.

The internet has played an integral role in this and done the realm of artistic creativity both a huge favor and a huge offense. While new things are now able to reach a broader network of people, it is also able to be received and imitated that much quicker; the moment you put something out there, it has already reached the collective conscious and is on it's way to the assembly line somewhere to be mimicked and bludgeoned to death. Oh computer, how I love/loathe thee.

Let;'s delve into this new obsession with the 1990's, not all of it attractive either. Some parts of that decade should not have experienced such a resurgence; I don't care how many fashionistas don it, I will never be able to appreciate denim jackets (distressed, none the less), floral baby doll dresses, and one-pieces.

Urban Outfitters has played a critical role in spitting out these 90's rejects. You can saunter up to the nearest store and drop an unholy amount of money on a babydoll dress or a romper that is probably still on the hangers at Good Will for $5. I'm just cautiously waiting for the day someone has the audacity to start wearing those multi-colored puffy sleeved windbreakers again, and tries to sell it for an inflated price. If by some chance that does happen, I'll be in luck. We thrift store aficionados have a stock pile of that crap. Why someone would want to pay big bucks to get a Good Will wardrobe is beyond me.

Anywho, let's take a gander and see what it reminds us of, yes? See if you can differentiate between which un-showered grunge kid is the real thing and which one is store-bought.

Doc Martens and Denim are coming back, eh? It's a mix between Run DMc and Courtney Love had she been a skin head.

Oh, the floral print. It is gaudy, it is loud, it is usually plastered on the most uncomfortable synthetic fabric.

Dirty little thespians, how sweet. I do not think, no matter how often you shop at UO, you can fully recreate the 90's. It's just a shallow interpretation.

Once again, will I have to mourn my beloved Doc Martens as 90's mongering fashionistas take the comfy boot and bastardize it?

Doc Martens on models wasn't as bad back in the day, because it wasn't an attempt to be "ironic". Why on earth (this question is geared toward you hipsters) must fashion be "ironic"?

I appreciate the melding of fashion with an image that is tough and kind of dirty, but I do not appreciate how staged it feels.

I think the 1990's should be left alone; they were comfy, they make me feel cozy inside because it reminds me of my simple little 90's childhood. Please don't ruin that for me.

What do you think? Doing it wrong? Do you think it is still fashionable to directly pull items from the not so distant past, or am I just a prude? I'm personally a little mortified that so many people today look like they just emerged from a Married with Children rerun. Even worse, my mother as she was in 1993 just graduating art school, was the epitome of fashion. Imagine that.

Alexander Wang however, does it right. I may think denim and leather together are ugly, and slightly resent him for exploiting my beloved ripped pantyhose and Doc Martens, but at least it is tastefully done while still looking fashion forward.

Now for a break to see what horrible 1990's disasters I have dreamt up. Floral denim? Yes. What can I say, it reminds me of the wallpaper we had as a kid.

Kimchi Blue floral denim front-zip dress

Forever 21 heels

Medieval Festival necklace I got when I was a wee tot

My signature ripped up tights

Salvation Army denim shorts

and blue tank

Urban Outfitters shoes

Vintage Glasses

total outfit cost: $10

I can do it too folks.

De Ja Vue

2009-09-25T22:48:00.001-07:00

When I was a little younger, I was weirder than I am now. In 5th grade I decided I had found my calling, I had discovered a clique of fellow sulking social rejects with whom to follow: the Goths. I hung out at Record shops that exclusively played old Joy Division and The Smiths records. I pretended to smoke clove cigarettes (I was not yet ready to besmirch my virgin lungs). I only shopped at over-priced hole in the wall alternative clothing stores that reeked of Nag Champra and marijuana. My best friend and partner in brooding and I were the only ones in the south Bay who dared to wear black in July.

Needless to say, our Hollister-clad peers did not understand. Apparently it was a lot more unusual for an eleven year old to wear combat boots and fishnets, than for an eleven year-old to wear short shorts and a top that dipped dangerously close to revealing what would be breasts (had they gone through puberty yet). By the middle of my Freshman year in high school I reluctantly gave up my Goth clothes. The boots and the chains and the studded belts were vanquished to a closet somewhere. I had become so embarrassed and so upset by the rude and unnecessary attention my wardrobe attracted, that I decided to do the unthinkable: be like everyone else. Within a month I was wearing Ugg boots and sweater vests. If only I had had the foresight and the confidence to understand I did not have to degrade myself in such a way! It is okay to grow out of a stage in your life, but there is no need to push away the pieces from that time that you still appreciate, for fear of what others might think.

Who would have guessed that the day would come in which my combat boots and bondage chains would be more fashionable than their Ugg Boots and halter tops? Some of the looks coming down the run way in recent years could have come right out of the pages of my Lovecraft-obsessed sketch book! Even items that hint at some of the more dramatic bondage-inspired goth pieces have permeated into the fashion world. Although not much of a shock, Vivienne Westwood sells a lovely solid gold version of the full-finger articulated armored ring that so many of us goths who thought we were vampires wore. What was once designated only for the weirdos, now adorns a new breed of weirdo along with the likes of Rihanna. These days, the line between subculture and hight fashion is blurring. Is this for better, or is this for worse?

My current favorite designer is Gareth Pugh; sheesh, had I been 10 years older and had he been a goth kid in 2000, I would have smoked cloves with this little bastard! The first time I saw his designs I was literally floored; maybe it is not exactly wearable, but who is to even say that? As fashion becomes more and more tired, the natural response seems to be go straight for the absurd. I hate to make the reference, but in a world of a dozen Britney's a Lady Gaga was an inevitability. Haught-Couture for every day wear from this day forward, bitches.

What strikes me the most about these is the strength and delicacy that he is able to convey simultaneously. Back in my goth days, that was the thing! I always admired people able to perfect that terribly Morticia Addams look; the wispy femme fatale that can exude both elegance and class, as well as danger and malice. Another thing I appreciated about Pugh's work is the nod to the Renaissance. Many of his clothes are suggestive of French aristocracy (or aliens). Had Marquis de Sade been a svelte 30th century robot, this would be his wardrobe.

Nina Ricci's Fall 2009 collection also features some very dramatic after-dark chic numbers. I can't help but be reminded a little bit of the more fetishistic and bondage-inspired, with masks and sleek black bustiers.

Alexander McQueen (who the very thought of makes my knees go WEAK) hasn't slacked either this past year. He jumped into the darkness band wagon and added a mix of the grotesque. With the tight trench coats and corsets and smeared dark limp stick, it reminded me of two obvious things; first that came to mind was a little bit of Marilyn Manson, especially in the makeup. It also reminded me of some of the bizarre and inventive outfits worn by the New York Club Kids, only with a more refined steam-punk flair.

And my darling darling Dior can always be depended upon; so versatile, it would not matter what theme I was doing, I could dig up a look to cater to it, whether its Roman Soldiers, to Goth chic, to lawn ornaments...no joke. But anyway, here is one intimidating creation.

As I said before, most of my authentic gothic clothing and jewelry from back in the day is long long gone, and I was not quite as much of a photo-whore then as I am now. Rather, here is me channeling what I was in the most understated way I could think of. In retrospect, I looked something like a depressed street walker, but hell, I aint gonna lie because I apparently quite enjoy that look then. The ripped stockings and the tight "body-con" dresses were pretty standard fare back then; unlike today where you buy your stockings pre-ripped, we had a strong emphasis on diy. And yes, those tights fell apart the good ole fashion-way: time and mosh pits.

American Apparel Double-U neck dress

American Apparel sheer tights

Vintage white heels

Thrifted houndstooth jacket

Paper Doll Leather jacket

Urban Outfitters Leather Gloves

Sale bin tee-shirt

I will have to mourn the day that this current fashion obsession with the dark ends, because then that will mean that all the items I love will go right back to being out of date. All of those luscious leather jackets, the gloves, the studded items, the shimmery black pieces, the dilapidation, the drama! Before it is over, I will milk it for all it's worth with Siouxsie-cakes as my muse! Ah, C'est a Vie; fashion is fickle and has the worst attention span ever.

Death bed visions.

2009-09-25T21:48:00.000-07:00

In the moments before death, visions flood the mind. Oxygen diminishes and levels of carbon monoxide rise; the brain attempts to protect itself by releasing various chemicals. Serotonin releases a feeling of calm, while electrical signals fire throughout the body at random. as the temporal lobe is overwhelmed the body seizes or experiences visual disturbances. Amidst the sudden surge of chemicals, the receptor N-methyl-D-aspartate is triggered. Overactivity of NMDA produces hallucinations. The mind in the throws of its final hour is all-powerful. Creating visions and whole lifetimes at a feverish pace, it resists its impending demise.

I am Ayla, 18 years-old; I live in Los Angeles, an unsettling patchwork of borrowed and foreign objects which only work together because they don't. This is the tail-end of the year 2009; Western culture is a black hole sucking in on itself and spreading wider although unsure of where. We are spinning tops, furiously trying to keep up with the fast pace of our decline. We are shallow, disjointed, and flippant; our magazines and our movie screens are recreations of things we have already seen. Those who recognize this sudden absence of new and exciting material rebel against it. This is a dedication to the chaos that ensues, and the glimpses of originality that sometimes emerge from a collapse.

Fashion.

Film.

Literature.

Music.

Art.