Two birds in the hair. What are they worth?

Yup. 

That's what I wore.

Except for the birds

nesting on my head.

You can't see the clothes 

very well -

the reflection of the camera

flash in the mirror distorted the image

just a bit...

...whereas these trifling snaps have more definition.

The trousers in the second sketch up there are

in the last photo below, huge palazzo entities.

You could fit a small village in them.

And middle, my white linen, rich-boy Hampton's pants.

And top photo, my lovely floral jumpsuit.

I'm linking this mess up to Patti's Visible Monday party.

You can see I've been hanging about the park already

for serious pre-conditioning, just like the pros do.

Not Dead Yet Style, yup. 

And a big thank you to 

Sally at Already Pretty for linking to me and my 

upcycled jacket on her 

Friday's Lovely Links, Jul. 18.

Vancouver shopping alert!

FEATHER BOA SALE

If you live in Vancouver and you've always wanted a feather boa, Dressew has them on sale for 50% off. What a bargoon. I am ashamed happy to say I bought two.

They have a wide range of styles and colours. The ostrich ones are gorgeous, originally $30, now $15. If Dressew is sadly missing from your shopping repertoire, it is located at 337 W. Hastings St. and it's bursting with fabrics, vintage and new, notions and masks and hats and...

I'm not getting paid for this promo, by the way, merely doing my part at promoting good mental health through boa therapy. Tell the cashier I sent you - she's the guilty party responsible for my purchase of not one but two boas. You won't get an additional discount but maybe a smile.

Faking colours and re-runners

I'm linking to Share-in-Style: White with Mis Papelicos and Sheila for Shoe Shine at Ephemera. I linked these platform runners before (Shoe Shine #3) but I'd rather do re-runners than nothing at all. And as for white, although the dress is salmon pink, I edited it to be white, which counts. Call my lawyer.

The dress is a thrifted vintage dream, possibly a wedding dress, made by Tachi Castillo in Mexico. The undulating tide of pink is more than I am used to but the crackle nature of the stretchy poly/cotton fabric cancels out the femininity. (Curtise posted a lovely crackle-free garment today.) The beautiful lacy bits are see-through so I wore my skinny red tartan jeans under it. Of course, that's my turnip head.

And a reminder:

The VOGOFF submission deadline is only TEN days away!!

Get out your cameras. Right this minute! Or not...

She's so boxy, she must be rich

Despite the bold colours, this outfit feels very conservative. The overall shape has a boxy, priggish quality which makes me feel very sophisticated, like I'm in Paris wearing couture, like, you can tell I'm filthy rich because my outfit is so boxy. I wore my mod sunglasses to tart it up and went barelegged. It is hot! And of course I carried my flirty little toolbox handbag O gave me, former home of his Starrett height gauge.

Wearing: thrifted vintage '50ish floaty fitted sleeveless dress under a thrifted blouse, thrifted D&G heels, magic loupe from O, thrifted vintage sunglasses, vintage Tissot mechanical watch, gift from O. 

I'm heading over to Patti's at Not Dead Yet Style to get soused. After all, it's Visible Monday and we need to celebrate. See you there. Will you be the one who's shaken or stirred?

And this next bit is for Anne of SpyGirl. Her 52-Pick-me-up prompt is Fairy Tale - she has the best prompts. This is my fairy tale.

Voila! Grushenka is my magic wand.

You've seen this jacket before but I've added back and sleeve detailing. I'm extremely pleased with the way the oval patch came out on the back. I took a photo of a decrepit gas pump, printed it onto transfer paper, ironed the transfer onto white T-shirt fabric, cut it out, and then hot-glued it onto the jacket because I didn't want to puncture the fake snakeskin or deal with the jacket lining. I think this jacket upcycle is done now - it's tricky knowing when to stop. So ba-bye Armani Exchange. I like my version waaay better.

I think I'm coming down with that sewing bug that's going around... 

I vant to be alone

I love how this photo came out. It's how I would do Garbo if she had blue hair and wore huge honking glasses. I did this shoot in a hurry today to slip into Judith's one-year anniversary(!) Hat Attack #12 at Style Crone, very last minute, and Sacramento's Share-in-Style: Denim at Mis Papelicos, co-hosted this time by Judith.

I haven't worn this hat out yet. It was purchased as a blue wig but I prefer it as a puffy hat with a scarf. The lenses on these glasses are clear - I just like them. The denim jacket you've probably seen before, very fitted, and it has little glitter bits on it. Underneath is my Jimi Hendrix T and my enormous loupe O rigged up for me. Finally, those are my cycling pants, and in the background are bunches of paintings I've cut off the stretcher frames and wrapped for storage. It's the glamorous life I tell ya.

Whew!

He's paid to say he's a girl

This is what it felt like:

This is what I saw:

This is what you see:

Val is close to my heart, literally; I wore her opium den on a dog harness again. This thrifted floral cotton cheongsam cried out for a liberal topping of her Muse Fondue. (See previous post for details about this magnificent diorama.)

Don't let this demure photo fool you. In the wind this kimono-style neon yellow robe billowed extravagantly into oncoming foot traffic and my toolbox handbag swung wildly at my side creating yet another pedestrian hazard.

Almost daily I am confronted downtown by clean young men wearing blue uniform jackets that say "Because I am a Girl" in their job soliciting money for a charity. They are so wide-grinning and their hair is so perfectly coiffed that they could easily be mistaken for cult members. If I'm feeling particularly cheeky I'll state the obvious, "You're not a girl." Impossibly, their grin stretches even wider and I expect a loud snap as their face splits in two. I wonder how people would react if I stood on an opposite corner, clipboard in hand, dressed in a pink uniform jacket that said "Because I am a Boy."

One time in Tokyo I mistook a couple of well-dressed Japanese Jehovah's Witnesses at my door for salespeople of beauty products. The cover of the brochure they politely held out to me featured the most startling beehive hairdos I'd ever seen. I said to them in slow English, "Hairstyles? Beauty products?" while pointing to my head and fluffing imaginary hair. They looked at each other worriedly and gestured to the sky and their chests. Once I realized what they were really selling, I said no thank you and sent them on their way. I think I heard a gasp of relief on their hasty retreat; I sighed because I had missed out on a hair miracle.

It's a tricky business, sending messaging and receiving them as intended. In the Japan case, clearly the misunderstanding was completely my own. How has your week been? Any mixed messages out your way?