Silk wrap, satin, and sequins. And Hat Attack!

I can't tell you how long I spent on this first piece of artwork below. Well, I can, but I won't. The vintage satin and sequin Chinese padded vest needed to be immortalized. As did those stretch caramel leather booties. And the hair, well, see paragraph below.

Remember when I said in the previous post, if you don't know what SEO is (search engine optimization) you might as well scrap your blog and stick your head in the toilet? Clearly, I'm as bad as it gets - the hair don't lie.

Connie summed it up with such erudition in her comment: "schblah-glunge-schwoop." 

But therein lies my genius. I am expecting correspondence from Liquid Plumber drain cleaner any day now with a glamorous sponsorship offer that will have all tip-top fashonistas clamouring for similar deals. Who better to sell that shite than someone with a swirly? Especially middle-aged with a swirly. And imagine the fun I'd have making videos to pitch their products.

Next I'll have automotive and electrical parts companies beating down my electronic door. And I shall be living on Cloud 9 where everything is at my beck and call. Hurrah. Flush. 

Onto the fashion:

Above is a couture look that says, wow, looks like that lady got tangled up in a wraparound skirt. Astute! It is indeed a maxi wraparound skirt, but one that's too precious, I felt, to be trapped within the rubric of the granola-cruncher set - not that that's a bad thing. Some of my favourite mammals eat granola.

No, this silk piece cried out for romantic fluttering closer to my heart, an intense infusion of incense, Shinto shrines, Lawrence of Arabia and Marrakesh night markets, paper lanterns, Paris runways, bordellos and bourbon. A whirlwind in my closet! In a word - a silk body wrap.

To add to the romance, under the wrap I am wearing my farked tank dress backwards. The script I painted on it, "I Surrender to the Chaos," seemed much more fitting positioned under my ass than my boobs, the latter of which never put up a fight to begin with making surrender a rather moot point. Plus, with this wrap the words were only legible from the back, at least when I left home, and both shirt sleeves were fully covered as well. All the best couture is slidey, don't you find? 

I am also wearing black jeggings, and on my feet thrifted lace-up booties and colourful Harlequin socks with black athletic socks underneath to prevent scraping of my ankles. Yes, cute shoes, but even without a tongue they give me quite a nasty lashing.

I may have only paid five dollars for this swath of processed caterpillar spit, but it looked and felt like a million bucks when I sashayed through Nordstrom, yesh. Cloud 9. Royal flush. 

And a parting photo of the sequin satin vest. I would have enjoyed acting in silent movies; maybe in a previous (still ongoing?) life I did. In this photo I see a young (heh), small-town woman clutching her bags, waiting for the train to carry her off to the big city where I suspect she would take up smoking, drinking gin, and scandalously rolling down her stockings. 

Which favourite automotive part would you like as a sponsor?

On Sunday I'll hook this up with Patti, hostess of one of the longest-running link-up parties ever - Visible Monday - at Not Dead Yet Style. Have you seen her new place? Schpetacular!

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HAAAT  ATTAAACK!!! (27) 

Hi Judith and everyone! See you at the meetup at Style Crone.

Unexpectedly feeling like a cowboy in this hat, a plain blue cotton cloche worn 

high with the brim turned up. Chanel sunglasses.

Jacquard "Mad Hatter" jacket that feels

like furniture. Mmm.

Get the cards ready. It's going to be an all-nighter.

Who's bringing the pie?

Thanks, Judith!

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.

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.