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

I was thinking the other day that some women would probably like to build a wall around me so they don't have to deal with my style. Heh.

I say this because I recently heard a few 50+ women disparage non-conformist style, which I can usually laugh off - and a little friendly back-and-forth can be a catalyst for growth - but this time they also threw in some armchair psychologizing, saying women who dress in "advanced style" are: desperate, trying too hard, insecure, loud, hurting inside, not serious, and (my personal favourite) not intelligent or smart.

Girls running in the wind with skirts hoisted, ready to fly. Acrylic on canvas paper. I painted it a couple of years ago.

Well, actually, they said "the messages the clothes are conveying are...blah blah blah." Fine line, folks, fine line. Apparently, they don't have style rules, but if you don't dress to their narrow specifications of joy and confidence, you need help. Hahaha! Too bad it's so much fun breaking those non-existent rules! I'm hoping they were just carried away. You know that never happens to me. Never! Hahaha.

Imagine if everything looked like this, except sometimes the lines are squiggy instead of straight.

So imagine how happy I was to see the Freakish Yellow Skirt fly again. Hoist them yellow sails!!! Arrrrg. And on whom?

  Sacramento! Hurrah!   

  Mis Papelicos - No. 27  

Marching band. Ticker-tape parade.

She's the doyenne of Free Styling, 

life-embracing, joy-jumping, 

sproingy wonder. 

See her here. And in the gallery here.

Thank you, Sacramento, for joining this ride!

After the style lambasting incident, which took me by surprise, I was feeling very down about blogging in general and, to my shame, about the Freakish Yellow Skirt, no joke - I thought my faux fur gave me thicker skin than that - but as I was updating the Freakish Gallery of

 27 WOMEN!!! 

from all over the world 

that bitter taste in my mouth turned minty fresh, the air suddenly smelled like spring flowers with a whiff of pine trees, bluebirds started nesting in my hair, a fuzzy dice pendant appeared around my neck, and a baby deer tried to sit on my lap. It was magical, wonderful pastoral mayhem.

OOM means, "This crab hand position sucks!"

In the nick of time the Freakish Yellow Skirt and Sacramento leapt in and saved the day!

So let me pass on this wisdom: when someone interprets your joyful style as a seething mass of desperation and unhappiness, it's time to start handing out those rose-tinted glasses from the dollar store. Emergency!! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and there's some really weird stuff going on out there.

It's called the Travelling Yellow Skirt Freak Show because joy wins over freak labels every time - I hope. As the original skirt post from 2012 says, the skirt represents "positivity and solidarity" among everyone who dresses with happiness, whatever your definition. We celebrate style in all its forms. Right? RIGHT?!

Let's be clear: no walls. 

The skirt will soon be winging its way to Beate in Germany. Her awesome blog is HERE. She's a fierce art woman.

And more news...
I was on a photo shoot today, a real one with a photographer and a stylist, a prelude to a professional gig coming up next month. Bwahaha! I don't like all the baggage that comes with the word model so I shall say I was a clothing host for some garments designed and made by uber-talented Claire Cormeau, who saw my blog and asked if I would showcase her designs. You can find her HERE.

The turtleneck has merino wool and the asymmetrical tailored jacket felt like an expensive dream. Claire even designed the bracelet, which her partner manufactured with 3D printing. Amazing. The pants/shoes belong to the clothing host. The shoot was only for the waist up; these are fun out-takes.

I should have slathered on some hand cream last night. Auch - hopefully, everyone is looking at the bracelet.

That's all. I hope you have a great week everyone. I'm linking up to:
Patti: Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and;
Catherine: #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb.
Thank you, Patti and Catherine, for these style refuges just when I need them most.

And I'll link up to Anne at SpyGirl for 52 Pick-me-up: Sky Blue/Expansion/Connection. Just my earrings are sky blue. That counts, right?

Electric toothbrushes and fringe

I recently almost spent a ridiculous amount of money for a vintage coat online but was saved at the last minute by an email from Sheila of Ephemera. Buying it would have gone against my golden rule of thrifting: go with the flow and make sure you check out the five-dollar rack. Still, I wonder if that coat is gone. I'll just have a little peek…

But I'm more than happy with my new upcycled shaggy jacket.

I bought an oversized off-white shaggy jacket for $15 recognizing its Hideous-With-Potential Value (HWPV). I enhanced it with fabric paint, which maintains its softness, and Sharpie markers. I don't think the painting is done yet but I wore the jacket out anyway. The button at the bottom needs to be realigned to shrink the size in a cheating fashion, but in a pinch I grabbed a single suspender clip from my odds-and-ends drawer (I use them for emergencies of all sorts) to snap the front together. It worked a treat.

I wore this with my embroidered wrecked-up oversized jeans, scribbled-on Converse sneakers, Middle-Aged Kitteh DIY T-shirt, silk scarf, and magic loupe. Crowds parted on the sidewalk to let this MAT (middle-aged tweener) through. Grrr.

We disconnected our TV. There have been so few shows O and I enjoy, apart from the building's entertaining security channel, that cable was a waste of money. Suffering from withdrawal I ate two protein bars in a row to make myself feel good. Then I felt bad because they were the excruciatingly nutritious chocolate chip protein bars. 

Finding succour in chocolate has meant more quality time with my appliance – no! you dirty-minded trollops, I speak of another wand – my electric toothbrush. To clarify: for brushing teeth! In my mouth!! It boasts a separate digital smiley face counter that acquires more facial features the longer you brush. I've been wondering what it looks like if I brush for five minutes instead of the standard two but I max out at four when the paste goes watery and I start to gag. For that I am rewarded with a smirking smiley face with twitchy eyebrows, as if to say, you idiot, what did you expect? 

Did you know there are WiFi power toothbrushes now? Imagine if you're at an executive meeting and your phone tinkles: "Sweet Mel, time to brush your teeth! Healthy gums, healthy mind!" Won't happen – I'm the sole attendant at my executive meetings, in which case the only thing that would embarrass me is having a transcript of my unhealthy mind leaked to the press, kind of like what I'm doing here in this blog.

I'm linking this up to Sacramento's Share-in-Style at Mis Papelicos. 

Electric toothbrushes, yay or nay? I love mine, but not for four minutes!

Rainbow of black and white

Coarse fabric and oversized high-waisted pants are an awkward combination; strict measures needed to be taken. Now these vintage pants fit like a dream and the checkered flag in the front crotchal area has become a star. Bingo! The pants are also short, and while I contemplated adding a band of black or gold or red to the hem, I decided that the high-waters effect enhances their retro appeal. I mean, these pants could never look standard anyway. Why bother trying?

I'm also wearing my Frump shoes, so-named for their plain style, but they are favourites nonetheless. They were out of commission for a spell because the leather started tearing horizontally on the sides where the shoe bends. Gorilla glue and leather patches took care of that. The bandages are hard to see in this photo but I folded them over the top and glued them down on the outside and inside. The next day I noticed a dusting of white powder on them. Ah yes, that would be the tiny skin bits that riiipped off my fecking glue-covered fingertips while holding the patches in place. 

I'm linking this up to Sacramento's Share-in-Style, freestyle, at Mis Papelicos. And I'll link up to Anne at Spy Girl for 52 Pick-Me-Up: Dots even though these aren't dots, and to Sheila at Ephemera for Shoe Shine, even though these shoes are more of a glimmer than a full-on shine. 

Next:

"A citrus aroma with flavours of apricot, grape, and caramel, and a juicy finish" 

"Oh," you say, "that must be a new wine she's writing about." It's a new whine all right, about my coffee. This is the verbatim description of the "Drip of the Day" coffee from Papua New Guinea that was featured at my coffee shop this morning. I don't know about you, but I don't want fruit in my coffee. I do not want to start my day imagining plump bitter-skinned purple grapes drizzled in caramel sauce. And why would I want "juicy" coffee when I can have juice? That's what citrus is for - juice!

Call me old school, just call me old if you want to, but I want my coffee nutty, coffee-beany - not fruity, not candied (unless it's on the side), and definitely not citrusy. Or floral, which is another blooming coffee trend. Did manufacturers suddenly run out of coffee beans and go, "Hey, I know, why don't we throw in all these flowers and fruits? Nobody will ever know!" - except they broadcast it, except it tastes like crap. (I suppose we're lucky their plants are not next door to sock factories.) I'd rather sip coffee made from beans shat by a kopi luwak than a wet, fruity, floral abomination, although I can't afford that kind of shit. 

When I'm lucky my shop serves up a lovely Italian "Drip of the Day." We're not talking Steve Buscemi, but a more robust Pacino or De Niro, although they'd all probably order espressos or cappuccinos. In this sense, I'm afraid I would be the drip.

But let's get serious - am I to expect "A brussel sprout aroma with flavours of pizza, cheese, and banana, and a sour finish" next week from Iceland? Sure, why not just serve me wet minced bark with a tulip in it and call it day?

Where my Nescafe? Better yet, get me a highball, quick, double juicy.

Why do laundry when you have scissors? EZ DIY

This is a project-ish project - paring down my clothing and focusing more on earrings and suchlike, meaning tights, hair thingies, face paint, maybe shoes. I am looking forward to the challenge but this is mainly an attempt to free up more space in my space-challenger home. In fact, I bought some Ziploc Space Bags (in tropical colours), which are vacuum-resealable bags capable of squishing a huge pile of clothing into one fruity brick. Spacey, baby, spacey.

I am also entering a floaty phase. Ahead I see wispiness, wavering, wandering, willowy floating a la Monet, and NO PANTS (as in trousers, my Gutter Friends). Yet, there is solidity, an uprightness, dare I say character-building fertilizer in minimalism? This outfit looks better in motion. For clarity: wispy equals minimal.

Wearing: 

• premiere of thrifted lined heavy-linen jacket from the '60s (so the tag said...) 
• bluish tights 
• thrifted vintage patent black shoes, 
• thrifted hip-slung oversized, accordion-pleated chiffony skirt
• hand-it-over satiny fuchsia blouse (why don't they spell it fyuusha?) 
• jewels, double vintage (already old when thrifted in the '80s)
• magic loupe, of course

As part of the floaty phase I am foolishly upcycling a cacophony of hand-it-over oversized silk blouses into skirts, tunics, and body casings, a process which requires Skills. On second thought, they would all look stellar as scarves with fraying edges and sleeves...

Speaking of which, this is my slacker alternative to laundry.

Simply cut away the offending parts. Ta da! And then excise a few extra bits for good measure. Be sure to include a fabric tongue (front left). Now the writing really matches the garment. My forethought is astounding, psychic even! Those green parts are not shirt stains (or I would have hacked them off); they are discolourations from the photoshopping I did to make my carpet look like a rare Persian rug - didn't work.

I am also reading a book on etiquette from pre-automobile days. It turns out I am a freakish Vulgarian. I would have been kicked out of the lowest classes of high society. "I visited Vulgaria once but they have ghastly plumbing," Miz Bagg says.  

Thank you very much to Sacramento at Mis Papelicos for the including me in Stylish Friends #5 on Feb. 11. I'm so tardy in my posting. See what I mean? - Vulgarian. And if you haven't seen Skye's incredible styling of the Freakish Yellow Skirt at My Kingdom for a Hat, git on over there!!

Have a great week, everyone.  

A Dark Horse

Yesterday I needed to wear something heavy, not warm, just heavy, don't ask me why. And it needed to be black, the more black the better. This is what I found. I threw on the shawl at the last minute.

Clearly I am a moth, I mean a phoenix, I mean a totem pole, I mean Sherlotta Holmes tramping through the woods, looking for toxic plants and clues, speaking of which, I could have saved myself the trouble just bottling a drop of Miz Bagg's drool, but where's the fun in that?

There are abazillion layers here - yes, this was very heavy. I moved silently, wraith-like, down the sidewalk. Turning around, I could see the fabric billowing still in slow motion behind me, life at five frames per second. Maybe that's why I wanted to wear heavy clothes - to crank it down a notch. I avoided traffic lights because, like a super-tanker, I would have needed a block to gear down to a full stop. (Would you like more metaphors and similes?)

NEWS FLASH
I've heard it firsthand that the Sherlotta, cowboy/First Nations, moth, opium den vibe is going to THEE hot trend for spring - you heard it here first.  Special thanks to Valastasia Bugheroff at Muse Fondue for letting me use her den for inspiration - more about that in a future post.

Wearing:

black gauzy maxi dress, thrifted

under the dress

black knee socks and heavy black jeggings

black cami and black long-sleeved top

over the dress

upcycled black wispy tunic with ribbon ties, as vintage as I am, retail

black patterned sleeveless maxi vest, thrifted

vintage black haori (short kimono-type thing), thrifted

silk Orientalesque shawl, $5 thrifted, yay!

Miu Miu boots, thrifted

above the dress

vintage black felt fur fedora, thrifted

I bought the haori in '85 and it was already vintage then. And I looove this black fedora. Usually I would have slapped a beret on my head for this but it felt too, hm, just too predictable, you know what I mean?

I'm linking this up to Judith's Hat Attack #7 at Style Crone.

I'm linking this up to Sacramento's Share-in-Style: Gothic  at Mis Papelicos. The prompt makes me think of secret science labs in castle basements and foggy midnight alleyways in London.  

I'm linking to Anne's 52-Pick-Me-Up: Short Over Long at Spy Girl.

Below is what I wore today, February 1. It is one of the happiest outfits I have worn in a while - I could feel the smiles blooming all around me as I tiptoed past. Happy Year of the Horse. Neigh.

Wearing

• Kimono-style robe, not silk, $8 thrifted, yay!
• long flowy skirt, thrifted
• glitter booties, crapily-made, mega-discount retail
• black sequin top, thifted
• black turtleneck, thrifted
• ...and other assorted layers-on-layers-on layers for warmth.

Finally, regarding my previous Lena Dunham post, I am traumatized that nobody offered me $60,000 to see my original unretouched photos! As part of my recovery process, I am posting them here for free. 

Have a great weekend all. And thanks to Sally at Already Pretty for the shout-out on my Dunham post. My stats are stunned by the exercise.

My jewellery scared them

My DIY pendant. Or could you tell...?

Short story: I tied a plastic preying mantis onto a Liz Claiborne 2011 Christmas ornament backdrop, which I painted black, and added a sweet ivory ribbon. I call this The Man-eater. O likes it but would like it more if I could mechanize the antennae and front legs.

As it was, both a barista and a cashier jumped in horror at the huge bug walking towards my neck. Scaring people was not my intent - honestly! I had planned to debut this at a fashion show (as a guest) on Tuesday night but was preempted by unexpected work, so I enjoyed wearing it on Wednesday for coffee. 

My inspiration came from the fabulous Sacramento of Mis Papelicos who made a bug necklace here, and then gorgeous Lydia of and this is peak who also made a few, here and here. The original bug necklace was made by designer/artist Schiaparelli in the '30s. A bunch of insects came in the combi-pack so you can expect more such adornments in the months to come.

Below are a couple of snaps that Sandra and I took on our Freak-Rocker-Women Freak-out Photo Day. We're scrabbling all over public edifices, which is not very ladylike at all - but that's the point. 

Yes, my ballerina dress, this time with me standing in it.

Sandra stood in her socks while she let me wear her sparkly skull boots for my photo. She wore them special today because she knew they'd look great with the ballerina dress. Talk about sacrifice for art!

"Where's Wanda?"

Sandra has just launched her own blog, LENS IS MORE. She takes great photos, has a deliciously wicked sense of humour, is a talented vocalizer, gorgeous, and makes cools clothes and accessories. Have a look.

I hope everyone has a great weekend. Do your clothes or jewellery ever scare people? Um, what do you do about that? I think my hair would scare people if I didn't push it down in the mornings.