Friday, September 28, 2012


Wearing: Wildfox X Jeffrey Campbell ballet platforms, vintage purple plaid skirt, Syd & Mallory ballerina crop top, vintage frilly socks.

You can tell that I haven't worn these gorgeous white satin flat forms outdoors yet because I haven't been able to run them yet, but it's one of my favourite luxury pieces in my wardrobe to style things with- Lolita yet still sugary sweet with an air of fairy tale class. I've more or less kept them locked away from the world since I consider them to be do precious and close to my heart. Unfortunately the ribbon ties around the ankles have a slit tendency to fall down as they have in the above photograph no matter how tightly I wrap them around my poor little legs. I've deluded myself into thinking I can still find Vivienne Westwood rocking horse heels with gorgeous plastic wings along the ankle saps, but then I reminded myself how bad ass these were and I got over it pretty quickly. The skirt has yet to be shared with you guys, but it balances well with the short and quirky pink singlet top that I'm proud to say is one of a kind.

Clearly I never had any sort of ambition towards dancing or being pretty when I was in primary school, so I was super proud when I finally managed to get the ankle ties to stay upright for this one shot. It also shows the extent to which I've stayed out of the sun these last few months because I've lost the luster of my tan which is instead replaced with a poky pink tinge hue on my legs- a season or two of living in skirts, shorts and doses should fix that (weather permitting). Push come to shove I will isolate myself within an air conditioned sanctuary of a shopping centre, not wear the gorgeous ballet shoes which I am so thoroughly in love with at the moment and instead work during the entire summer seldom taking time off for some music festivals and buying clothes online during my break between study years. Sigh, it's not easy being a work-a-holic, but someones got to do it.

Part of what attracted me so much to this quirky skirt was how long it was, there was plaid and there was so much of it I was a little overloaded by how much sumptuous material there was for me to wrap myself in, but it looks a little when I wear and long slouchy sweaters with a mid length skirt as well when going out for dinner... Luckily this weekend the is terrible weather abound and I can probably get away with wearing my perfect lazy outfit when driving around and getting a little practice in. Behind the wheel, it's very difficult for people to judge you on your looks past the windshield which is a relief considering my hair tends to have a mind of its own and there's so much of it all over the place. Back on the subject of my lovely vintage skirt, short cropped shirts will be its new best friend and give me a little more motivation to keep fit and let those lovely ribs of mine shone on the summer sun.

In case you haven't noticed I tend to be extremely lazy when it comes to doing anything with my hair- generally I keep it out, luscious and long but I do wish I was clever enough to perform milk maid braids and updos myself. Instead, all I can't manage is adding a little volume topside to my hair with a boring old headband- it seems that I'll need to scrounge around second hand shops and make some DIY crowns with floral as well as sparkly pipe cleaner magic. It will definitely make a nice companion to lipstick which again I'm getting into.
This is my imitation of Lana Del Rey and beehive hairstyles; but instead it came out as a Tavi Gevinson bitchface... I'm down with that. I haven't yet read the original and infamous article in Rookie Yearbook One, but having watched Ms. Gevinson's delightful interview on late-night American television I think I have the appropriate techniques down with a little helpful input from Jimmy Fallon. Come to think of it, I never needed any help when it came to deterring people using my 'stellar charm' and helpful 'outlook on life'-said no one, ever. Even now at work people often coach me to smile and sprinkle motivating phrases on me like confetti such as, 'come on Adele, it's not so bad'. Instead of a cheesy smile my new response should be pulling this face and saying 'bitch please'.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Photographs by Petra Collins

In honour of Ms. Collins heritage I will be attempting to write this post with a Canadian accent that is probably a little hurtful, weird, and against the wishes of the artist that inspired this small collection of her best works. I was completely smitten while watching her in the Rookie video 'Crown of Love' in which she wore the perfect pair of psychedelic lounge pants with a simple white crop top and played with cats. It was then I was truly entranced by the revolution of teenage girls blogging as well as emergent talent in art forms such as crafts and photography. Gosh she knows how to master composition and make her subjects vulnerable as well as stunning in each of their own settings, ey? OK that just about does it for the accent, I'm to unfocused and bipolar to remember that I'm poking fun at people anyway. This is meant to be as far removed from heckling as possible. Well, I'm a huge fan of Petra Collins work and wish my own name was Petra (maybe my own daughter might get in on the action) but I'm happy to instead stare wistfully at her works rather than try and pick up my own cameras and weave magic in still film. 

I've already broken the agreement between the lovely people at Google Ads and posted nude content, which is apparently offensive and something can become obsessed with so it's thus unfair to pay me the some hundred dollars my blog has earned for half a million views and sharing my website space with companies... But whatever. Now I'm free to post things that make the female body beautiful such as this serene forest setting of a queen indulging in cigarette stick- the one suggestion of western influence and corruption in an otherwise natural and peaceful setting. I don't really think the bracelet or jewelry in general is evil and corrupting, just a way of self decoration common across all of gods creation. The closed eyes of the model make the tame drug seem all the more indulgent, but I'm adamant that I'm not missing out on anything special.

she has such a distinctive style when across all her works no matter what effects she uses, possibly due to the same camera (I'm absolutely out of touch with this realm since I haven't picked up any of my own equipment since last year...) but black or white, soft focus or sharp with precision or duplicated they all look stunning. They are all marginally more magnificent then I could ever imagined photography could get with a very distinctive youthful and feminine influence of vintage America and the suburbs, it's like parallel to Tim Burton, a teenage boy full of angst and dark scribbling drawings which were eventually crafted into live film ideas. Now it's the age ruled by ladies and the world they envision is full of fake eyelashes as well as primly curled hairs and knee high socks- wicked. 

If there's one thing I've been missing lately in my life, it's the company of girls in a girl gang who prowl around the streets at sunset and dusk in fabulous costume. I spy, a Christopher Kane alligator printed muscle tank on the right, as well as a stunning fluffy pink jacket to the left (I've been searching all over for wildly colored faux fur jackets such as blue and pink everywhere to no avail) do this combines some of what I love together nicely. Also they a subtle portrayal of how important it is that girls hang about together when going out and, as much as I hate to stay it, the night isn't always safe for a lone lady so look after each other. I personally like to disguise myself with motorcycle silver rings and other tough Jewellery such as fire lighter holder necklaces and leather jackets to hide my vulnerability when venturing off into the night. 

I did have something like this very camera in my collection at one point, but I scraped it since it was broken and threw it back to the online community over at eBay- but don't worry I kept the floral pink, purple and green Barbie model which is the crem de Le crem of 1960s styled Polaroids. The dress makes such a sweet companion to the coy girl sitting on baby blue painted balcony and drug store plastic hair barrettes. Green polka dots also contrast well with strawberry blond hair as well as gorgeous freckles; I wish I was cute enough to wear something pretentiously sweet and pink without looking like a total fool... 

Ye Gods I've been utterly obsessed with silver Dr Martens as of late, and with such a wondrous creation of color as well as the party scene which I so thoroughly detest, can you blame me? I've never seen a urinal in real life, for the obvious reason that I'm a woman and I'm also not a janitor of any kind, but the graffiti seems roughly the same that you can encounter in any public restroom with perhaps just a few more tags. As well as step-like pedestals that are probably crawling with germs being the main difference between gender of bathrooms, but when you wear a jelly bean printed skirt and two tone leggings you're probably off in a world of your own anyway. I can only dream of what the top half of this outfit looks like, a fairy wand would make a lovely appearance in their I'm sure. 

*All photographs are the property of Petra Collins; I merely worship her (did I say that out loud!?)

Tuesday, September 25, 2012


Wearing: Zara polka dot blouse, vintage pink Levi's shorts, This is Make Believe resin rose necklace, mermaid necklace fashioned from Kamibashi keyring, Jelly Beans pink plastic sandals, vintage frilly socks.

Holy smokes guys I'm officially an old woman and less of a dork because I'm NINETEEN but now I'm only one year off from being twenty and leaving teenage-hood. That sounds, totally lame. I've been reading a bit too much of Marlena's blog entitled self constructed freak these past two days so I was pretty much possessed is morning by the idea of wearing pink, dots as well as lipstick. Tomorrow I have to go on a field trip that will last some with hours and is worth ten percent of my final mark so it's the last chance to be light-hearted and wear cute clothes for a little while. None of what I'm wearing in these photographs was given to me on try birthday, gosh I'm not really good at this whole "living in the moment" kind of thing am I?

I was a bit mystified. To why the color of my beloved Levi's pink show got so washed out and drab looking in these photographs other than the obvious conclusions that the lights in my hallway happen to suck a lot, but the Neapolitan ice cream strawberry color is tickling my fancy at the moment. My mother absolutely abhors these shorts, she wants to snip away all the artfully purposeful torn threads along the hemline. Needless to say, I do some of my best running around the house in these babies.


Today is my happy nineteenth birthday; everyone on my family is at work and I never bothered organizing anything because everyone in my family is at work, a few of my good friends are inter-state, my university friends are on a field trip and my boyfriend has fallen sick since I saw him yesterday. So this is what it feels like to be Harry Potter and not have anyone special in your life to share special moments with- I don't like it. My mother has been reminding me all week long that this is my last year as a teenager which feels like a massive cheat considering I only discovered Rookie magazine this year, haven't be one a popular and talented teen fashion blogger, haven't cleaned my room and made it super cool and pimped out with cat shaped teapots and handmade crochet blankets... Yes I think my life is ending because my teenage life is ending; are there any do overs or ways I can go back and time and have been cool when I was thirteen years old? Probably not sadly. Also, last night I searched for Polly pocket jewelry last night and went to bed at half past ten. On top of everything else I have to deal with, it feels like I'm having my mid-life crisis already; excellent.
On top of being too old to enjoy teenage girls delights, I'll be unable to enjoy dyeing my hair wild colors without being judged to the max on the streets when talking about town. Considering I took massive pride in having virgin hair and keeping it free from dyes and peroxides lightened I'm pretty bummed out at the moment. My father might not be so happy if I were to talk in with green hair some sunny afternoon, but he did say a few nights ago that I should be allowed to do what I want and express myself freely and dress like a weirdo. So, despite all my grumbling about no longer being eighteen, being marginally older does have its advantages as far as influence among my parents is concerned. I'm still not that keen to try and push the boundaries though since I could probably be properly kicked out of home for it now...

By the age of ten I already thought I was too old to be a child prodigy... I realize now just how stupid my logic was and that I would give anything to be able to be ten again and have my glorious teenage years stretched out in front of me; I could have taken an avid interest in mechanics and be a grease soaked girl living out my days under cars and in overalls or have the chiseled physique and bruised feet of a ballerina. Instead I chose the path of a girl now terrible at shooting hoops and a pretty miserable basketball referee just dreaming of the day my final shift ends. The good old days where when nurturing and maternalistic primary school teachers assured all the boys they could become professional football players and we were all going to become whatever we wanted. Then reality kicked in... 

In other weird girl related news on how super mature I am and have the mindset of a young adult, I've come to the conclusion that I really want an iPhone 4 because there are lots of wicked cover cases that I like on Etsy which include silicon teddy bears with ribbons, kawaii plastic food and icing that looks extremely excessive as well as sailor moon uniform inspiration plastic covers. This does not at all seem like logical and adult reasoning for wanting technology, the conclusion I have come to is that I'm doomed to be a teenager at heart but I've only got one year of justifiable dumbness before people can waggle their tongues in disgust at my behaviour, not having a license and weird taste in clothing and accessories.

I can see the next prequel drama series to follow in the wake of Desperate Housewives to be Desperate Teenage Girls, a series about a gang who skip class to smoke in the girls bathroom of a small American high school in the suburbs who turn to a life of graffiti as a forum for public issues. Also a life of kissing boys and dating some seriously shady and questionable characters might make for an interesting agenda to young feminists... Till then I'll personally hunt for pink permanent markers in addition to iron-on patches and glittery pipe cleaners OK? God I miss the competition of scrawling in pen and naming names of beautiful in my own high school. 

There will be no mad cow partying from my today since I have a stinky excursion tomorrow that I need to wake up early for and buy bakery goods to eat for lunch, no headbanging or ponytail whirling and no whipping of hair back and forth either. That's all just a bit sad since my mother has pretty much banned me from having any house parties out of shame and disgust at our tiny house, but maybe I wouldn't have fit into the dark and grungy garage party scene anyway of make-shift eskies and drinks being nicked from one another. There'll always be the pain and agony of never knowing if I could have fit in to that popular people scene and whiled away many a Saturday night drinking till I can't remember the next morning. On the plus side I haven't had to deal with mysterious vomit stains, hang-overs or mastering how to bounce back from a big night out.

I'll be saving my cup of coffee for later today when I need to concentrate on busily preparing for group assignments and disciplines SPF strongly, biology and geoscience... Yes I am possibly the dullest person in the world- why else would I be celebrating my birthday alone while watching cartoons, still in my pajamas and not really planning on eating anything special today. I'm trying to cheer myself up with the solace that my twenty first birthday is going to be totally excellent and the bitter taste of loneliness and isolation is going to motivated me over the coming year to GET SOME FRIENDS! 

Monday, September 24, 2012

Body Image

Tumblr remaining my number one source of saucy and evocative images to create posts with bombarded my senses some time ago with many photographs focusing on the skin, shape and flesh of the human body. Like any loving parent I think it's time to sit down and have a good old heart to heart with my dear readers about body image issues for those of us who wriggle and squirm like cocooned caterpillars all year long imprisoned by our own self-conscience spirit and to those of us who are so confident writing on bare bottoms poses no challenge what do ever. The main point I would like to stress here is that everybody is different, ever body is different and we all tackle this tricky issue around puberty with different strategies and tactics. They are all fine, all equally clever and suitable for different people but being aware of all of them may just give you the upper hand in sticky situations.

I've never been blessed and/or cursed with the presence of a purple blotchy love bite on my own neck, but the coolest guy I know and am lucky enough to date considers them to be badges of honor representative of his promiscuity and he just takes all the snickers and comments in his stride. Another one of the delightful people I knew at work once colored his hickey in with blue texts in order to hide the discoloration. Mind you he was never known for being particularly bright but I suppose the point I am struggling to make is that we all have different means and manners to deal with sore and tender necks after lovers have sunk their teeth into us in a passionate frenzy. Me? I have a drawer full of temporary tattoos at the ready the moment I am bestowed with purple spots and tender skin but if I fail to remember the whereabouts of such a stash I'll be sure to give the good old band aid a try in order to duck my head from waves of embarrassment.

 I hear ya Jemaine, and I don't think it's cool either that strangers on the street can't hand out compliments like confetti to one another; I myself have thought of complementing women on their lipstick that day or bone structure but chickened out at the last minute because I know it's not expected of me and initiating a conversation is so unlike me. The fact that terminology such as 'booty' and 'fly' have been used together and in song simply sweetens this musical deal. Occasionally as a way to get out of awkward moments when I stare and gawk at the people in my classes I save myself from any embarrassment and explaining to do by complimenting someone on something they wear and I also have the tendency to dish out the love when working in a social environment in a shop, but that's the limit of my generosity. 

Together with friends from university discussed the hazards that come with body piercings while watching a documentary on early human civilizations such as these bull ring piercing shown above. As the actors of the piece had irregular bone through their flesh, for the most part they were turned off by the image but I was proud I was able to present an intelligent argument for the style. Positives include no weird little holes left in your skin after you take out said piercing and you can hide this particular hoop from existence should the occasion call for it. I think the look is beautiful and have seen around on my local commute a girl with distinguished eyebrows, brown hair in a sleek ponytail and a cute little nose piercing shown above. I think she's pretty adorable and the look on her is endearing- piercings can be tricky enough to deal with when you live at home and have parents' rules to abide by but if your tempted by punctured skin and metal decorations I really stress to you the importance on getting something that suits you, not necessarily something everyone else you know is getting. The look should be unique and emphasize the structures and appearance you already have, not make you look like trailer trash... 

One eyes or two, long legs or no legs it's important to love yourself and come to terms with the differences that separate us from common folk because if we don't start believing that we love ourselves how can we expect others to do so? Confidence is a strange and wondrous mechanism that draws people in when they may not otherwise be interested and if you change their perceptions of yourself and correct them then what could honestly better? Perhaps the Cyclops above is going to be a top notch hair stylist and practices day and night like a mad scientist on her disgruntled looking pet but you have yet to discover her talent just yet. Don't let people classify and pigeon hole you, you can exceed beyond their wildest expectations if you merely try.

A favorite trick of the trade of one is black clinging nylon stockings to make legs applied lengthier and longer and although spring and summer should be on the horizons I feel conflicted after just having got to know the wonders of this garment but already forced to bid adieu. The silver lining of solace would be that denim shorts can now be worn about the campus and beach if I am that way inclined, but they some how lack the same finesse and class. The thighs themselves seem to reach towards the heavens but instead peak coyly behind flaps of soft floaty fabric, sometimes to make the body more attractive, hiding its secret pleasures from sight is the best tactic of all. I.e. modesty and young girls is a good thing, unlike the little tramps I see running around in my neck of the woods (reminding me why it's bad to leave my room in the first place, let alone walking beyond the front door). 

Since the time I was in high school, bitter and discouraged by the sand box representation of the world at my fingertips I thought I would die alone and surrounded with cats never to feel the pleasure and companionship of another human being. Since that rage bottled up in my heart like a shaken carbonated can I cannot reveal that there is no better feeling than the sharing of warmth between two human beings under the understanding that we are equals and I am absolutely not going to attack you and murder you with your guard dropped. Fairy tales tell us how magical kisses are and that essentially after sharing that tender moment the couple live 'happily ever after' but there's no indication on how they go about this. My theory revolves around the happiness of an endorphin rush and consummation of love physically which culminates for me in the use of one lovers breast as a pillow for the other. Skin is magnificent when you find the fit person to share yours with and you in turn have every vulnerability and worry erased in a blissful moment.