My first LinkUp Party

I just swallowed a bird.

If I speak, little yellow feathers might float out of my mouth. If I were polite, I'd wear a mask. (hiccup)

Split, splat, split splat. the sound. of boots. on wet. sidewalks. Halt! 

Excuse me, sir, which way to the Left Bank? "What? Madame, why you just turn left. But you cannot go to zee Left Bank like zat. Although you are wearing a jolie beret, you must wear all black to go there." Oh. Which way to the Right Bank then? "Oh, non, non, non! You turn right here, but you cannot go there. Are you fou? You must wear black there aussi!" Okay, how about straight ahead? "Oh, grande imbecile, Madame! Why, that is the Seine river. No turning. But there is no shopping or cafes there, only leetle fishes." Fine. 

I turned into the wind, positioned my umbrella just right and flew to London for lunch with Vivienne Westwood instead. Such a jaunty petite outfit. Perfect for zee rain yesterday. Next time I'll wear black. 

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MY LINKUP PARTY!

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Originally I was going to post only photos of Miz Bagg showcasing every conceivable angle of her outfit and her magnificent self - nose holes, ear lobes, elbows, knees, toe hair(!) - and then breathlessly proclaim how Miz Bagg, that biatch, had scandalously hijacked my first LinkUp Party!! Unbelievable! And Shelley of Forest City Fashionista was going to send me a photo of herself as it would appear in the last linkup window, the only blogger to break through Miz Bagg's stronghold before the LinkUp Party closed.

Yes, that would have been a great sight gag, but it felt too easy, too trite for the mood I was in once I started the project, so I ended up with these photos, which include two intentional Bagg characters, but mostly different states of me that reflect how I'm feeling, the weather, what leapt out at me from the closet, something I've made, an experiment, a critique, a letting go through clothes and imagination that makes life bearable.

The dialogue was just filler I typed up to check the layout and was never intended for final use, but then I decided I liked that raw quality after all. (The original was much more raw than what's here, influenced by other projects I'm working on.) I like the juxtaposition of the colourful sense of myself I feel in these images in the context of a catty Fashion Police-type commentary, both somewhat unreal and real at the same time.

I like the top middle photo, the pink electric-head-girl cycling socks that I used to wear cycling, now worn with my granny shoes. And below, what I wore today, Sunday.

Caught in the headlights of Santa's sleigh. The parade was today - I wouldn't have known it if it were not for the really weird vibe on the street and the thousands of people everywhere, and, well, the parade itself. The weather was fine, 11C (52F), so there was a great turnout. Wearing: DIY scribble jacket and DIY embroidered-eye jeans, merino wool turtleneck that I wore to the Hamptons, with underlayering as well.

Have you recently read about the man swallowed by an anaconda for reality TV? Frankly, I don't know what the kerfuffle is all about. As you read in VOGOFF in December 2012, here, Miz Bagg ordered that her assistant be partially swallowed by the Mighty Python to research the magical skin rejuvenating effects of its digestive juices. Of course, she was retracted just in time. No word on the juice. Or that assistant.

How are you, lovelies? Having a good December? Brace, brace, brace, there's more to come. Ho ho ho. Mwah. [Edit: I'm linking up to Anne's SpyGirl: 52 Pick-me-up, Crazy Legs, and Mis Papelicos, Share-in-Style.]

Word Verification...
PS - Pao just asked in the comments, what's up with all the auto-robot thing on comments lately? I've noticed this too. My word verification is definitely OFF, but Blogger has decided to turn it on. I think I encounter it on everyone's blog lately.

Does anyone know what's up with this? I thought it might be a gentle "push" from Google to join Google Plus....? Whatever it is, it's annoying. I'm not a verified human?! Okay, well, sometimes I do feel like a robot, but I still run on chocolate, coffee, and fresh bakery buns.

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.