Wednesday, November 30, 2011

More importantly...

Speaking of...

Lady Gaga just performed with her own version of Nicola's panda eyes. I'm not so hot on the Sugarland thing, but...

Monday, November 28, 2011

I'll take two black eyes, please.

As I seem to adore all things heavy (read: excessive) and dark, I found myself excited to see the makeup at Spring shows for Rodarte and Gucci. A dense cloud over each eye looked playful and powerful respectively. Gucci's was an uncompromising black (complete with bleached brows), while Rodarte's had a trace of blue, which was appropriate given that the Mulleavy sisters took inspiration from Starry Night and other van Gogh paintings.

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Liu Wen at Rodarte; Natasha Poly at Gucci; via style.com

Stylist Nicola Formichetti, who bears the nickname "Nicopanda," attended his own Halloween party with a similar look across his face, though it was notably more face-consuming and messy, neither of which are a problem in my mind.
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via Nicola's tumblr

Today, I read Susie Bubble's post about the look, which featured a video the makeup manifesting on her face. While she usually looks lovely without a scrap of makeup on her face, I say she looks incredible donning quite the opposite as well.


via because London
I myself tried the look for a night spent for a rather typical college party, though it looks a bit more devious alongside the black bandana and dominatrix t-shirt. Since I didn't have the resources, time, or daring to bleach my eyebrows, I simply covered them with as much foundation as my patience gave me. I sent this picture to my dear friend Gillian, who replied with a frightened text message wondering where my brows had gone. Perhaps that is a measure of some success.
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As I don't see myself as some kind of makeup extraordinaire—the sun does reveal every mistake one makes‐I'm not sure how willing I will be to wear such a face in the daylight hours, but perhaps I will surprise myself. An afternoon blog post is a surprise in itself, so let them come in droves.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Today's Stare-it-dead Image

I'm in the process about writing a paper about this lovely painting, but I'm getting quite sick of looking, thinking, and writing about it.

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Winslow Homer, Eagle's Head, Manchester, Massachusetts, 1870

It's rather strange that we're expected to appreciate things that become visually exhausted all in a day's work. Perhaps I just have a bad attitude. Then again, it's also almost three in the morning. This is too typical.

Friday, November 11, 2011

Child, the living's easy.

It only seems right to post a Summertime look as a downpour ensues outside. I suppose this was me mixing a bit of Seventies soul with a touch of the hippie side of the era. I don't mean to be sentimental about the Summer or a forgiving schedule that doesn't keep me away from all the things that I love, but this post has been a long time coming. And the scatterbrained thoughts stop here... sort of.

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(silence + noise top, [BLANK] jeans, Jeffrey Campbell shoes, thrifted (probably fake) Hermes Scarf, vintage bag)

I've been listening to a lot of Janis Joplin over the past couple of months, but I can't remember if this was at all influenced by her style or not. With the excessive jewelry especially, it wouldn't be completely surprising. In any case, she's incredible on multiple levels (as if it needs to be said).

Now I'm going to brave the rain to stop by the library. Happy 11-11-11!

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

Baby take me for a ride...

Bambi and a Burrito


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After a long day, I trekked over to my beloved local taco truck, Rancho Bravo, and got myself a black bean Bravo burrito, a veggie mix quesadilla, and huge agua de piƱa. Once home, I sat down and gorged myself at a potentially dangerous rate of speed. Predictably, I felt sluggish soon after my feast and some doddling and a nap followed. Alarms were ignored and I found myself awake at 1a.m. While four hours of sleep is not exactly enough, I can't seem to fall back to dreamland. So in an effort to start my day exceedingly early, I'm drinking green tea out of my "Bambi" mug and working on an article that I didn't touch because of the aforementioned food coma. I've also been exploring a few blogs, known and unknown, which have only led me to feel embarrassed, if not a bit depressed about the state of things around these parts. Cue the slightly stream-of-consciousness blog post about overeating and feelings. I just heard a "Mean Girls" quote. In any case, I hope you enjoy my hilarious still life of Bambi in my new-ish, perpetually messy, undecorated apartment. Declaration that I will feel semi-obligated to stick to: This will not be the last post this week.


Wednesday, October 5, 2011

It's hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off.

Fall has finally arrive and homework is slowly piling up. I'm far behind on any Spring/Summer 2012 coverage, but I hope to post on some of my favorite shows. In the meantime, enjoy this rather magical new video from Florence + The Machine. I can only hope Halloween will be so dreamy.


Saturday, October 1, 2011

I've probably posted it already, but this one's better.



Back to writing...
In the simplest of ways, Justin Wu knows how to make me smile.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Sunday Night

I'm lightyears behind in any Spring 2012 coverage, but that's not exactly news. Instead of being productive today, I ate a ton and watched several episodes of "My So-Called Life." Around 9:00 tonight, I wondered if I should even bother trying to be productive before bed. I still haven't decided, but I cleaned up my apartment a bit, lit my Gothic candelabra (that's probably not the correct term, but you know, it's sounds nice), and put a live Pat Benatar record on my half-working record player.

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"Looking for a Stranger" is always a fantastic choice for a slow night. Escaping my apartment to do something dangerous often sounds desirable. For now, I think I'll just stick with pretending my life is much darker than it is in actuality, candelabra and all.


Saturday, September 17, 2011

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Fall is coming.



Losing my Rocky Horror Picture Show virginity was one of the best moments of the beginning of my Freshman year. I can't wait for what this year brings.

Friday, September 2, 2011

Gaga on Criticism, Ms. Horyn

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GAGA MEMORANDUM NO. 3


In her latest column for V magazine, Lady Gaga investigates critical culture, directing much attention to the esteemed (and notoriously harsh) Cathy Horyn. Gaga questions the necessity of being highly critical to the point that said criticism is negative to the point it becomes predictable. She herself has stated that critics are bullies, which one cannot easily disagree with. Certainly being a critic requires expertise and (hopefully) disgression, but often critical writing reads as if the writer is reveling in being mean spirited. I myself have weighed the value of being critical, struggling with saying something that could be potentially divisive. That is, if any of the creators I write about actually read my blog—they don't...yet. Every time I have this conversation, of sorts, Horyn comes up, perhaps because she is the most vocally critical fashion journalist alive today. Without a doubt, I feel that honest criticism is necessary to keep artists thinking forward and such shoes are difficult to fill. For that, I applaud Ms. Horyn's bravery, as I could not be so objective that I eliminate the possibility of befriending—or at least having the respect of—the world's most important designers (perhaps journalism isn't really for me...?).

Gaga asks, "Is it not even more critical for fashion and art critics to be profusely informed not only in art history but in the subliminal? The public operates with the assumption that critics are experts in their respective fields. But are they? Does every critic have the soul to really receive a work in the transcendental sense? The out-of-body experience of art?" Too often those who experience art only think of it in terms of good and bad. What I believe Gaga asks for in this column is a journalistic consciousness that looks deeper, that experiences the work. I sometimes wonder if I have the "soul" for it and cringe at the thought that I may not. Then again, I wonder that about a lot of things. Perhaps that's telling...or not at all.

I found the piece to be probing and important, even in it's a bit of an assault on Horyn. I still believe Horyn has a valuable place in the fashion community. This kind of discourse often has me searching within myself for a guide, if you will. I just hope Glitter Way presents itself to me in time.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Dancing Queens.

Lanvin ads always have a sense of life to them, much like the work Alber Elbaz does for the house itself. Last season, the campaign featured Iselin Steiro and Kinga Rajzak mid-catfight. The Fall campaign—shot by Steven Meisel—brings something more light, with Karen Elson and Raquel Zimmerman performing synchronized choreography. The result is as playful as the brightly colored and voluminous dresses pictured below. If the stills weren't enough, a campaign video has surfaced which shows the models (and male counterparts) dancing to Pitbull's "I Know You Want Me." The soundtrack choice brings me a smile for the simple fact that something mainstream won out over something indie. Any pretension is stripped once Pitbull's voice emerges. Quite simply, it's lighthearted fun that is undeniably refreshing. I hope you'll enjoy a couple stills and the video as much as I did. There's a lovely surprise at the end.

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Photos via Fashion Gone Rogue

Saturday, August 27, 2011

Marc and Robert.

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Photos via WSJ Magazine


I'm constantly thinking about having a kindred spirit to work alongside. My dear friend, Gillian, certainly fits the bill, but the majority of her year is spent in Portland. This insightful profile of Marc Jacobs and Robert Duffy for the Wall Street Journal Magazine illustrates their personal and professional relationship. Not only is such a relationship something I crave, but what has resulted from their partnership is nothing short of inspiring. In addition, the old photo is awfully precious. Enjoy.



Carine Roitfeld by Karl Lagerfeld

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Carine Roitfeld photographed by Karl Lagerfeld


The two had quite an interesting chat in Interview magazine, accompanied by some ravishing photos. I cannot help but to feel full of wonder after reading the interview. Huh.

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams.



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Vintage wrap, thrifted BDG t-shirt, BDG jeans, deaux lux bag, BP Nordstrom scarf (worn as turban), gifted silver and seashell necklaces,
ring purchased at Moksha, tassle necklace Forever 21, assorted bangles, gifted flats


On the day of the Pride weekend street fair, Gillian and I explored the less charted regions of Capitol Hill, where we found a wonderful vintage store called Indian Summer, tucked away not far West of Broadway. I found a beautiful greyish, jade greenish wrap, printed with fish, antelope and other exotically rendered creatures all over it. The fringed hem also got my motor running. I had just spent nice sum at Cairo, another nearby vintage store, and reluctantly fell in love. Gillian looked at me and knowingly said, "Don't pretend you're not going to buy that." (For whatever reason, I have a fierce attraction to ponchos, wraps, capes, and any other garment that loosely covers me that couldn't be called a coat). The large "10" written on the tag seemed oddly low, so I made sure with the owner who reassured me it was ten dollars. All resistance was quelled thereafter.

The Summer weather has required me to be virtually naked (I'm a whiny Seattleite), so my excitement about the garment has not been fully exercised, but on the day I took this photo, it was rather cool and grey. I even put on some pants. I'm also fairly obsessed with headwraps and the like, so I devoted a chunk of my morning to mastering a turban shape with a long scarf. An excess of jewelry, eyeliner, and room in my bag brought together all of the bag lady elements.

I'm so fucking ready for Fall.

Don't tell me I'm less than my freedom.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Saturday, August 13, 2011

Copies 6¢

Praise Mario Lemafa for always having his camera with him.

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Thrifted button up, BDG cigarette jeans, thrifted Banana Republic ankle boots, thrifted green (faux?) snakeskin clutch

Monday, August 8, 2011

Summer: That's Not My Deal

I've been feeling rather optimistic about summer as of late, despite the fact that I can't stand the heat, nor dressing for it. Last week saw a change when,after having declared I was not "a beach person," I went to Golden Gardens with a group of friends, even braving the icy cold waters of the Puget Sound. And just today I was hellbent on finding a "summer movie" to watch on Netflix. The search was less than successful and lead to potentially startling vocalized frustration. Fortunately for me, Best Coast is a band that certainly provides a sense of escape, easiness, and abandonment that is so often associated with the summertime. Guitar riffs bring images of impressive swells and clinking margarita glasses over taco truck fare. Needless to say, I was rather excited at the prospect of a Drew Barrymore-directed music video/short film, starring ChloĆ« Moretz and an attractive young man I know nothing about, Tyler Posey. The video follows two rival gangs—hello L.A. culture—both of which have a member that becomes enamored with the other. Forbidden love! The styling in the video reminds me of a modern Cry Baby, with its humor intact and the addition of a letterman jacket-wearing gang with a soft spot for color. Morentz is typically adorable in the I-know-how-to-handle-a-switchblade kind of way and her hair may generate envy in a few. The story itself is ripe with an all-too-precious love story, melodrama, and (who would have guessed it?) tragedy. If it were a full-length film on Netflix, I probably would have watched it today. Enjoy.



Update: Here's the extended version.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Giambattista Valli Debuts Haute Couture

The Fall Haute Couture shows last month in Paris flew by and I still have yet to say a word about them. Haute couture has recently been called into question in terms of relevance. In response, Alex Fury wrote a fantastic piece about its significant role in fashion today. Another voice bent on asserting haute couture's importance is Giambattista Valli. In the face of doubt and pessimism, Valli debuted a couture collection that provides hope and perhaps a new direction for the tradition of haute couture.

Valli has a cult of young wealthy girls who are devoted to supporting his ready-to-wear business, so it should come to no surprise that his couture debut is quite youthful. In the haute couture business though, youth are not typically the clients of couturiers. Thus the frequency of shorter hemlines and the exuberance in this collection mark a turn for haute couture.

In typical Valli fashion, expressly decorated elements stood in contrast with more classic, streamlined elements, as in look 32. Between the fabulous use of coral, the feathers, the leopard print, and the dramatic capes, Valli has created a highly iconic collection that capitalized on unabashed glamour. He has not strayed from his DNA—something of great importance in couture—but he's challenged himself and proved what he can do with an atelier.


Hanaa Ben Abdesslem
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Aymeline Valade
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Tati Cotliar
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Hanna Sorheim
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Sasha Pivovarova
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Hailey Clauson
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Kinga Rajzak
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Ajak Deng
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Nyasha Matonhodze
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Aymeline Valade
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Caroline Brasch Nielsen
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Jacquelyn Jablonski
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Sasha Pivovarova
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Elena Todorchuk
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Joan Smalls
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Ruby Aldridge
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Photos via style.com

Friday, August 5, 2011

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Pride, Phad Thai, and a Poncho

Gillian and I at the Pride Street Fair

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We were much happier than we look. Promise.
Photo by Mario Lemafa

Monday, July 25, 2011

Young Love

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Young designers Thakoon Panichgul, Jack McCollough, and Lazaro Hernandez.

Purple Diary

Saturday, July 23, 2011

I don't really know what to say other than the world has lost a great talent.






I'll be missing you.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

On that note...

How beautiful does a soaked Raquel Zimmerman look in the Fall Alexander Wang campaign?
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Photos via alexanderwang.com

Escape

This past weekend I decided to flee the city with my girls to stay with a friend and his family, who live in a lovely plantation-style (I cringe at the name itself) house steps away from Lake Chelan. After coming back, I was asked what we did, and replied "Nothing." In other words, most of the time there was spent relaxing, whether that mean having tea on the candlelit porch after dark or watching far too many movies instead of spending time outside. One morning, I inexplicably woke at 6:30 in the morning and decided to not return to dreamland. I tiptoed downstairs, poured a cup of coffee, and joined another house guest on the porch. We enjoyed the morning and spoke of our respective times at the college I attend. He's more or less of my parents generation, so naturally there have been changes. Later we were joined by my friend's parents, so my morning was spent having conversation and coffee with signficantly older human beings and working dutifully on a crossword. You may be surprised to hear that the latter was far more agonzing than the first. I cherish my conversations with the generations that have come before me.

To be sure, I didn't just laze about all weekend. I swam quite often, went wakeboarding only to be sore for the next two days, and took a less than leisurely bike ride. My friend Bridget and I decided to bike into town. She rode her road bike, while I rather idiotically mounted an electric blue cruiser. Coincidentally, a triathlon was taking place at the same. While I didn't look or sound anything like a serious biker—in sandals and oversized button up, ringing the bell in sheer glee—my effort to keep up with Bridget was much like competing in a race. As we got to town, it began to rain to my relief. I was already hot and absolutely exhausted. We passed triathletes sporting pained faces and while I was tempted to ring the bell at several, I resisted to save myself from a potential punch in the face. As soon as we arrived home, I ran upstairs and changed into my swim suit. By the time I got to the dock, it was pouring, but I was undeterred. I dove in and gasped as the cold enveloped me. Not long after, the water felt less hostile. Pulling myself onto the dock, I stood in the nearly warm rain, taken with the way nature can look and feel. Perhaps rain is the last thing many Seattlites would want to encounter on vacation, but I couldn't have been happier. I'm so very glad I haven't lost the ability to find joy in the little things. While you mope, I'll be dancing in the rain.

Monday, July 11, 2011

Spangled.

Loving your country is a wonderful idea, but I appreciate the Fourth more for the picnics and the beautiful booming lights in the sky. I think my problem is that when I think of patriotism, the legacy of slashing and burning caucasian males comes to mind, instead of the opportunities that the country provides to those not born here (this of course becomes an issue when immigration is brought into the discussion). But then again, I wonder if that's a myth created by our graying forefathers to create a glorified history of the country. My own citizenship, a product of "birth-right" and entitlement may simply lead to me overlooking what makes America great. In other words, because I expect a lot, I don't see what others might appreciate. Enjoy the music and my amateur photography (the pie closeup, the gas structure, the blurry fireworks) alongside better shots by Miss Gillian Spencer.


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Gisele Bundchen for V magazine shot by Hedi Slimane, styled by Clare Richardson; Gisele Bundchen for Vogue China shot by Patrick Demarchelier, styled by Nicoletta Santoro