Wearing dog leash and opium den

Sorry for the serious face but I'll make up for it with the accompanying video later,
filmed on location in the garbage room atelier. I blame Val and the opium.

How am I supposed to go wee when I'm wearing a dog leash and an opium den over a back-zip playsuit? (And there's not a fire hydrant in sight.)

Bwa-ha-ha!! Don't you just love the opium den? See the teeny tiny pipe, the divan, lit candle, and mysterious jars? The white powder is upside-down "army" and the other is "shadow" or a place absent of sun or wind (according to O). And of course there's a huge mini mirror so I can admire myself. Absolutely stupendous (the mirror, not my reflection).

This perfect objet d'art percolated from the primordial Muse Fondue which Val has cooking at her house and arrived at my house quite a while ago. Instantly I knew I'd like to wear this den (to feel good and show it off) but I needed a suspension system that a) wouldn't require altering the piece and b) would stabilize it. The answer? This neon pink doggy leash, $4.99, which just last week I finally enlarged to fit my doggy torso. Today was the first outing, and when I invited strangers to view the den they gasped with delight. And that's a fact, Val. Thanks again for this incredible work of art. Val also sent a hilarious card addressed to Melstrom in a Teacup, Buzzed 24-7, Vancoolver, and threw in some lovely mysterious French accents. XO! You can see posts that Val made about this diorama and others she has made at her former blog, late blooming sparkle, here and here.

A N D -
Recently, I started a new series of ink sketches of spooky rebel girls, like that one above. I love the etchy scratchy rippy action of crosshatching (hatchet, axing, crossing) and I mark this series as another step in my decades' long art school recovery. My Turnip Heads (which I'm still doing) are line drawings of whimsy and joy, so these sketches are a big departure: style-wise they are scraggly like the drawings I did as a kid, and content-wise they are dark and foreboding. I drew six spooky rebel girls yesterday, like a fury. I did that sketch above this morning. I have lots of ideas for this series and I am excited to see what else emerges.

I have other incredibly lovely gifts from other people which I cherish and will post about as well. I have not forgotten you - never!

I'll see you at Patti's Visible Monday at her blog Not Dead Yet Style. And I know I'm missing other great link-ups as well so I'll add them here as I clue in. Happy long weekend to youse guys in Canada celebrating Canada Day, a country which thrives under the benevolent rule of the Queen as our head of state.

What I wore to the Hamptons

What I wore to the Hamptons sounds better than what I wore to the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver, the former being a playground of the rich in New York state, the latter, one of Canada's poorest neighbourhoods where my favourite fabric shop, Dressew, and many other cool hangouts are located. 

This feels like an outfit of indifferent decadence. When I was young(er) I had a few wealthy male friends who would wear the most buttery-soft expensive chinos with navy deck shoes/no socks. I loved how the pants slouched in their fit and had such a worn look even in their newness. Sigh. Well, I found my own variation of this look below, silk/linen blend trousers, fully lined, two sizes too big, $5, and a soft wool turtleneck like new, $5, also too big. Ironically, if I had gone out to buy these items new (wouldn't happen) I would have searched the racks for my correct size because I could afford not to make a sizing "mistake." But having the freedom that accompanies having no money for such things and only one size available, I could afford to take a chance, which was in fact fulfilling the image of insouciance I had all along.

This is what I wore yesterday.

I enjoyed this outfit a lot, let me tell you, flowy, floral, frigging faboo. It's more like Honolulu on acid than the Hamptons, although the platform runners are the same. My hair apparently ran away to be an extra on the TV reality show Swamp Monsters, or was it Duck Dynasty? I'm still waiting for a postcard. 

For my Hamptons outfit, is it weird that I wanted to recreate a man's look? Do you ever do that, recreate the look of a friend you've had or the ambiance of certain times of your life? Usually I don't. But I enjoyed this little trip.

AND...a word about VOGOFF

I had a heck of a time coming up with a theme for this issue and finally settled on fact, fiction, fraud. Basically, it's "be what you want to be." I have realized that showing ourselves in the context of otherness may be limiting, that we need room also to express our strength on its own terms. I'm not pissed off at fashion magazines or the people who read them and I know many women of towering strength who wear neutrals. I'd just like VOGOFF to be a forum for the voices that are excluded in mainstream media, whether it's in style, opinion, or lifestyle, funny or serious. This issue will be a huuuge grab bag, but the VOGOFF after this, if there is one, can be something completely different again because there are no rules.

Thanks to those of you who have already sent in your work. I am floored. It feels like The Freakish Yellow Skirt, except with your own pieces. Incredible!

Deadline: I'm hoping to have everything in by the end of July. That should give you lots of time to procrastinate, like I always do, with the issue coming out in August.

Naked people everywhere and men carrying trees

Remember how I said in the last post that amazing things happen when you wear amazing clothes? This is what I saw today...

This is what I was wearing...

This is what I saw yesterday...

This is what I was wearing... 

Ah, it's a mad, mad, mad, mad world. I'm almost afraid to get dressed tomorrow. Maybe I'd better not put on anything and hop on my bicycle. 

You might recall the kimono robe from our manhole-cover party. Or not -  things got slightly out of control. (Don't worry, Judith, I won't post those photos.) I'm using the brilliant Calvin and Hobbes kid suspenders from Bella of The Citizen Rosebud to hoist my skirt. Except for the shoes/socks and magic loupe O made me, everything is thrifted. Those shoes clop like horse hooves. Very satisfying.

The other outfit features my DIY rock star pants, in which, during their inaugural outing, I almost chatted with Paul Stanley, the KISS rock star, not the same-named New York designer of the fabulous vintage gown from Pao and her mum I wore in the previous post. Same names - spooky. And my DIY jacket.

My eyes are becoming more sensitive to eye shadow as the years go by, so instead of putting the colour directly on my lids, I have begun using it above the crease. The blue-green mini-brows were made with "Make Up For Ever" cream shadow from Sephora. The lipstick is MAC's Candy Yum Yum, a daily staple. The colours here are accurate, at least on this monitor. For the kimono manhole outfit, I painted a dime-sized dot of hot pink under my brows. Of course you can't see them - I have to stand under the fluorescent light for anything to show. Expect to see more eye colour experimentation.

According to Wikipedia, the World Naked Bike Ride is for a "cleaner, safer, body-positive" world. And those men are moving a styrofoam prop for a multi-million-dollar Jeep commercial in which a downtown block was transformed into a wild canyon with trees, boulders, gushing water, mist, and snowfall. Considering a majority of surveyed Canadians (not me) have identified Jeep as their "dream car," I can almost understand the expense. (No, I can't understand ever. This is madness.) 

Because I missed Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style last time, I'm making up for it by joining twice this time, with this post and the previous one. Bwa-ha-ha. See you there.

Edit: I'm linking this to Sacramento's Share-in-Style: Gold at Mis Papelicos as well. Gold spangles, can't live without them.

Does your town have any wacky celebrations? Naked people on bikes? I have always thought that a town in a slump would do well by becoming the Knitting Capital of the World. It could erect a tacky sculpture of the The World's Biggest Knitting Needles at the town limits and host an Annual International Knit-Off with prizes for skill, speed, etc. The resultant products could be raffled or donated. Just an idea. Have you got any ideas? 

*The days in this post refer to Friday and Saturday.

Search words: Egypt, zigzags, oil rig, Pao

This is how I walked downtown today, like an Egyptian hieroglyph. "No drama here, everyone. Thaaat's right. Move along. Resume your usual activities. Move along," yelled the strange man who had joined me out of nowhere to direct traffic with these scripted lines I had scribbled quickly as I ran out the door. Walking like this is serious business and I was glad of the help. When I returned home I spent several hours by the pool nibbling nippies (last eaten here) and imbibing martinis to regain my strength for a fancy dress ball on my favourite oil rig in the Bering Sea later this evening.

Naturally, amazing things happen when you wear amazing clothing like this fine gown courtesy of gob-stoppingly talented Pao of Project Minima, and her mother who used to wear it and who sadly passed away not long ago. The magic of Pao's mum still definitely inhabits this dress, made by Paul Stanley of New York - I have never had so many compliments on a dress before. EVER!

The dress is a vanilla-coloured knit with brown zigzags and a huge chocolate velvet bow belt which fluttered wonderfully in the light sea breeze. I'm also wearing my thrifted D&G shoes, blue paisley socks, and wonder-butt Italian pantyhose. I first wore this dress here, Kiss of the drunken spider woman.

The dress in motion, above, so much better than static. The first and last photos, set in my garbage room atelier, are from a video clip so they are slightly grainy. That's my new haircut too - I had to say good-bye to my Warholian locks which were starting to curl at the nape of my neck. My grey hair blends well with the platinum but soon I'll need more decolouring as well. Life is an unending rhythm of sloughing and shedding and changing colour, with drooping. [Edit: I put on my cartoon face later in July]

I think I'll link this one up to Patti at Visible Monday, unless I post again before then. Who knows? Walking on the wild side, we tend to live one. day. at. a. time. Achoo. I'm finally able to get back into making the rounds so I'll see you soon!

VOGOFF call for submissions

Miz Bagg just flew in on a purple-eye from France where she suffered minor injuries from an early-morning stoning she received at the hands of a gang of well-coiffed, middle-aged Parisian women. She said, "Thank gawd for my thick skin. Had I not been in the company of two notable religious figures (what a night we had!) who intervened on my behalf, in another couple of hours I would have been a handbag, a designer one I hope. Or maybe an enormous tool bag!" Then she started laughing maniacally and crossed herself in the pelvic region.

Her triumphal return home can only mean one thing: it's time to "Hoist yer freak flags ya' freaks!!" - her words, not mine, for another VOGOFF, the Biggest eFFFing Issue: Fact, Fiction or Fraud. VOGOFF welcomes contributions from one and all this time, whether you want to be yourself, be someone else, or just be an appallingly blatant liar. After all, we have standards to uphold as the magazine that takes the non out of non-fiction and shoves it back in again with undue force.

From Miz Bagg:
VOGOFFers don't stumble feck-lessly through life with vulgarity, we delicately hack our way through it with spatulas, skill saws, Q-tips and cat whiskers, and, above all, with grace and a plum. We don't just take it lying down - we take it semi-reclining, hopping, in a downward dog, in a dentist chair, in too-tight tops, and car parks. Our strength comes not only from our lovely liquidy insides and floaty dream puffs, but also in cute little pills or squares/triangles/rectangles of chocolate or, say, a V12 engine with an overhead cam - which reminds me of the first time I was stoned by..." (Ed. note: the rest of Miz Bagg's comment has been removed by Blogger)

The parody in previous issues has been a blast, but this issue will be a mind-boggling, jarring mess of fact and fiction, boasting an indecipherable target audience, unlike the oh-so-hoity-toity, slickly-produced profitable mags one finds on newstands. Specificity is so last year. Also, this time Miz Bagg wants writing with your submissions, up to 250 words (or more if you have a great idea) fact or fiction. This VOGOFF is happy to showcase real and unreal people, messed up, dressed up, dressed down, men and women. This will be the issue where people say, "What the hell was that?"

Wearing falling off gown, platform runners, Jimi Hendrix T shirt, striped socks, but who cares?
This is my favourite abandoned gas station. (I'm linking this to Sheila at Ephemera for Shoe Shine 3.)

Submission ideas (fact or fiction or fraud)

• glamour photo yourself or other self/bio
• an original artwork/haiku/short story
• recipe/food photos
• car/home repair, scientific innovations
• interview/photo of an inspiring person

Sorry, no photos of pets or children. Also note that Miz Bagg won't accept content that disparages others with cruelty or submissions that are not your original material. Miz Bagg has the right to fark around with any submitted material.

Past issues of VOGOFF can be seen HERE.
Deadline: July 31

Please send your submission to the email address in my contact information and write VOGOFF Submission in the subject line. No submission will be refused. The previousVOGOFFs have over 30,000 page views but that's nothing considering how awesome you are. I hope to have a little assistance for this issue too. We'll see how that goes. Can you come out to play?

Yellow Skirt Freak Show Update!! and more...

PETER: Who is that woman?!
THIJS: I have no idea but get rid of her. Nobody is looking at us when she's standing there.
PETER: Shameless attention hog. Such a poser.
THIJS: Look who's talking Mr. Fancy Pants with frilly lace around his neck.
PETER: Oh shut up, you're wearing one too.
THIJS: Hm, yes, I can't help admiring it. But I mean reeeally, that yellow abomination. It's ghastly.
PETER: Nobody usurps our manly authority and greatness.
BOTH: Security! Arrest that woman!!

It was bound to happen - 

the travelling yellow skirt becomes 

High Aaaaah-t, that's HIGH art

flouncing, billowing, flowing regally

through Rijksmuseum

Fearless     G r e e t j e  of

N O   F E A R   OF    F A S H I O N

G O!   G O   N O W !!

________________________________________________________________________

Thank you so much, Greetje. It's confirmed that the Freakish Yellow Skirt is high art, hogging all the attention in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. WOW. It's a fantastic feeling to know that everyone's work has been showcased in one of the world's great galleries. Stunning photos! You MUST see them.
And the journey continues...

In other news...

Yesterday's outfit: thrifted spangly gold top, black camisole, white long-sleeved T-shirt with DIY holes cut in the armpits, thrifted businessy pinstriped pencil skirt, thrifted black army boots, black tights, toolbox handbag, magic loupe from O. 

A garbage room atelier is a poser's best friend. Todays' outfit: thrifted vintage floral jumpsuit, shaggy green boot things, groovy thrifted chain belt. I'm linking one of these up to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style. See you there. Miz Bagg is back in town and SCREAMING for attention.