If it's raining I must be a rock star

Goodness, it's a lot of work being a rock star. It doesn't help that my electric guitar is out of commission. I sent it to a monastery in the Arctic for repair when it lost its spark, but I forgot to put the AIR MAIL sticker on the box. Sigh. Five years ago. Fortunately, I am a virtuoso air-clutch-bag player (air-guitar is so over). It's really fun being so multi-talented! Witness my skill below.

 big thanks to Frankie Cord of unsplash.com for this photo

My outfit for this tour was made by the World's Greatest Fashion Designer "iqi" (pronounced "icky"), whom you may recall from my platinum 8-track cassette on how to pose like a pro. Or refresh your memories HERE, darlings, then assume Pose 4.

big thanks to Lane Smith of unsplash.com for this photo

It may look, to the unenlightened, like I'm wearing a vintage fuzzy neon-pink robe. Bwa-ha! Harrumph. So sad. And thrifted rubber rain boots, bell-bottom hip-slung sweat pants, and an old men's t-shirt. If so, then clearly you have not put on your space goggles today.

I had considered wearing a new puffy COMME des GARCONS outfit, but it wouldn't fit through the hatch of my private submarine (yellow) (tour buses are so passé), although I inadvertently discovered that the puffy CDG bits are excellent flotation devices.

big thanks to Adi Goldstein of unsplash.com for this photo

Sadly, getting from the stadium in Calgary, Canada, to Abilene, Texas, was a challenge. Several of my impudent crew quit during our overland portages. I don't understand it - I fed them the tastiest grubs.

Above, wrapping one concert, on my way to the next. Below, more superior air-bag-playing, and my adoring fans.

another big thanks to Frankie Cord of unsplash.com for this photo

Oh, the places one can go!

big thanks to Dick (my remote control) and my tripod for this photo

That's all for this week.

Except for this video I made. It includes a new super-cool manicure technique by my partner O. More of his artwork is HERE, Etsy HERE.

I'll link up to Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday. And Catherine at Not Dressed at Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike.

Big hugs all around. Make sure you buy your tickets now for my rilly, rilly big show coming to a stadium near YOU! Hahaha!!! And special thanks to Unsplash.com and photographers Frankie Cord, Lane Smith, and Adi Goldstein for helping this experience come to life.

Have you been a rock star lately? Do tell!!

Lost in wrong translations

I told the world to roll over and... it did! - magical residue from Serena, my Halloween alter ego from Bewitched. The view is much better sideways in some respects. Not so much traffic either. I'm standing on the mall.

Apart from my warped perspective, what have I got for you? Brown. It's a phase - it's cold outside. 

Outfit 1

Oversized Diesel men's T and high-waisted brown stirrup cords, very soft, by German brand blutsschwester, both $5 at My Sister's Closet, booties from MSC, black under-T, and magic loupe. 

There is a deer embroidered on the front left hip of the pants and writing, "Landadel verpflichtet," which means "Rabid deer." Pfft. I have no idea what it means; I just like the pants. 

Maybe it means "Kill deer." They resemble hunting pants after all. That would be alarming to me. The stirrup foot loops are trimmed with stiff brown glittery lace, which is a bit weird, and there is red and white gingham fabric like a tablecloth(!) lining the front flap and edging the pockets. I don't want to kill deer. 

And look! - writing on the left shoulder of the T-shirt. One would assume it says Diesel, but maybe this is German, Dies El. Or maybe it's English, like "die hard" but instead it's "dies el." What does it mean?! Everything is abstruse in a sideways world.

Outfit 2

More brown, but it's mixed with dried mustard so it's not truly brown. I'm referring of course to my maxi muppet coat. There's no writing on it but the message is fairly clear, sometimes with expletives, sometimes not, depending on my mood. Here? With, despite the smile. I put an IG photo looking mean, here. 

It's a whapping, flapping, flowing monster of goodness, grrr. The pants do have writing on them, embroidery on the back right waistband: "Sanchez." They used to belong to him; they're mine now. 

I love those tufts. And my tuxedo blouse, it's slightly stretchy, fits well. Thrifted. All thrifted.

Here I am walking swiftly towards the wall, coattails whapping. It looks like there's a small animal on my head; that's just my hair, although it too can be playful and do tricks like real animals. That day I saw a woman piling six rats onto her shoulders as I walked by - I counted them. 

I bought a very pink swishy vintage gown for the gala (What gala? See previous post) and realized I'm an idiot. I got the gown home, then hand washed it, and portions of it disintegrated. That wouldn't bother me too much if it was only $5 but it was expensive, at least much more than I usually pay. 

Why can't there be an "Undo" button for life?

Among other things, I've been busy styling for the gala, which I'm enjoying immensely, working with some awesome people. I'm learning a lot. I'll show you photos of the outfits next week. 

That's all. I'm linking with Patti's superb Visible Monday party at Not Dead Yet Style. Yay, Patti!! Weren't the finger sandwiches last week faboo? I must ask where she gets her gherkins. This week, corn pudding! Hurrah, my favourite. Is there corn in that?

One more thing:

Kezzie of KezzieAG has entered Lady Vintage's Hall of Fame photo competition. In her submission, she is wearing a fantastic Lady V dress in front of Doddington Hall. If you love this shot as much as I do, you can vote for her on Facebook HERE. She definitely looks prizeworthy! (This info is entirely unsolicited.)

Groovy bell bottoms two ways

It's like this: I don't have a photographer, so I just have to take care of business myself. It's time to learn my camera better. And it's time to break out of that concrete studio - the stairwell and garbage room atelier. There's a whole city out there calling me.

So now I sometimes lug my camp stool and tripod around with me. I mean, adding a little more eccentricity to the mix isn't really going to make a difference, is it? And chutzpah is a good thing, right? Plus, if I have to take one more photo with my back against the wall I'm going to screeeam!

"As chairwoman of Miz Bagg Mining Corporation I call this meeting to order." Wait, where is everyone? "Come back! You're not afraid of a little... Oh, yes, well, I have some spray disinfectant in my bag." It's odd that the whole city beckons, but my best business is conducted in alleys. (Hm, that didn't come out right.)

There are advantages. I can do this. Spinning action - without whapping passersby. And I can give myself bonuses at the nearby coffee shop. On this day it was a oat-chocolate chip bar accompanied by a nutty, chocolately piping-hot coffee and hearty guffaws as I looked through the outtakes from this photo session.

Everything in balance; balance in everything.

What the hell is she wearing?

• groovy thrifted bell bottoms, sold as '70s vintage but I suspect they are vintage-style new pants based on the somewhat crap quality of the fabric and the sewing. There's no label.
• thrifted wool fringed vest
• thrifted tropical top with sequined neck and sleeves and a T underneath for warmth and modesty
• thrifted Ingledew's leather ankle boots, like new
• thrifted lucky charm beaded bag
• I forgot the magic loupe from O, which I cursed at and another reason alleys are good
• insect-style sunglasses, vintage now, bought new

Eee-yeah! These groovy pants recall happy days with my transistor radio. CKLW in the Motor City. 

This song by Lighthouse (1972) was a staple of my tender youth: "And yet, there's nothin' better for your soul / Than lyin' in the sun and listenin' to rock 'n' roll"

This photo was taken near another alley close to the coffee shop. I couldn't actually take photos solo in that particular alley because other people do business in there, not the executive kind like I do, but the kind that involves real money. Yup, people digging for gold in alley muck and gold-diggers in million-dollar condos all in the same block. And me with my camp stool staking my own claim. Fool's gold. I need s'mores. 

Hey, who took my inflatable gavel? Suzanne...?

And one last look at these great stripey bell bottoms, worn here with my new thrifted oversized men's Diesel T that features a photo of a man's torso. I wore this with a black velvet tuxedo blazer you haven't seen.

I'm linking these stripes up to Anne's 52 Pick-me-up: Stripes on her blog Spy Girl. She is sporting some particularly peaky hair. Have a look, or even join in!