Ruffled in a frock coat

I've been sequestered in my garrett feverishly toiling on a new symphony in H-minor with none but my pet raven Grasp as a silent companion at the window. This work will break all the records. It'll be huge. Great. Really fantastico. 

But now I am stepping out for refreshment with gentle verse and a forest shower. "O," my giddy soul cries to the heavens, "Dispatch thy muses - and a new rollerball pen." Writing with a feather is fecking annoying. And plucking them from seagulls may even be an offense. Grasp doesn't share either.

Artliness temporarily satisfied, I clamber onto nearby battlements and gaze seaward, brow furrowed (not really, those are just lines). I scan the horizon, searching, searching for my ship, which should be coming in any decade now.

It would be so much easier if it were a jet coming in and not a frigging frigate. And an airport at least has a Food Court where I could hang out. But wait, maybe my ship is a luxury yacht or, gulp, a tanker. I must consult the Manual. Does anyone know where it is? Oh dear!

Still waiting, contemplating more poetry. And owning that wall, I mean battlement (the top of a fortified wall of a castle with holes for shooting from). Bafflements is a good word too to describe a confusing wall or even this blog post.

And what ho? What's this? The royal court has decided to have an official portrait of me painted?

Me looketh upon the artist with suspicion. "O, Painter, be thou forewarned. If thou dost not capture a flattering likeness, I shall lop off thine head." (Why must I stick my hand in the jacket like that?)

In fact, I would prefer a non-likeness, so not to worry. And we would go out for martinis and pickles and swap stories on where to get good rollerballs and plumes, if not provided deus ex machina (unexpected godly intervention that saves the day), which is always my preferred method.

I love this aubergine frock coat with ruffles and my Partridge Family pants.

This outfit is a definite time-slipper. I conceived it for chasing bad guys with Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery, a movie which features the phrase, "Groovy, baaaaby," spoken with a toothy grin. But on this light-rain day it morphed from Austin Powers to Jane Austen.

Details of the blouse. I wore suspenders with the pants too.

I have been possessed by ruffles and blazers (and frock coats) for almost a year now. Finally, I farked this thrifted Asos blouse by adding ruffles around the collar and sleeves, and down the front. There's even netting behind the base layer for body and lift, although that was original to the blouse, I confess.

Now I shall fark all my blouses! I would happily wear ensembles like this every single day, although I would need a hound and maybe a horse. I already have a sports car (as you can see in the video clip link in the right sidebar) and a toothy grin.

I went to another play with Mara, the opening night of Shakespeare's Coriolanus at Bard on the Beach, front row, where we were right in the heat of battle. Clearly, its influence has spilled into this blog post.

I had never been so close to "violence" before, even feigned. The blood and wounds looked pretty convincing, which made me ponder even more the tragically flawed nature of our species.

The story is timeless: ruthless power-seekers contend with colleagues, family, foes, and poor people hungry for a good line. Sigh. In this play, all the people really want is corn. Is that so hard? The lead role is gender-switched to female and played brilliantly and breathlessly by Moya O'Connell. The play runs until Sep. 21 on the Howard Family Stage in the Douglas Campbell Theatre. Check HERE. (Not sponsored)

I debuted my farked blouse with this outfit that night. Mara debuted a coat that she farked with red paint too. Stunning.

And, finally, I put together my third annual (plus a few months) compilation video of what I wore 2018/2019. Click the photo or HERE to watch the video on Instagram. You don't have to be a member of IG to watch it though.

That's it for this week.

Oh, except I opened a new page with lots of my sketches HERE featuring Ternip Hedd (changed the spelling to avoid conflict). Most of these sketches you've seen on Bag'n'B; a few may be new.

I'll be linking to Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike, Not Dressed as Lamb when the time is right.

Cheers, everyone. How does your ship come in? Land? Sea? Air? Carrier pigeon? Ether? Curious minds want to know.

Furry things, dingle bits, and Turnipheads

I went down to the scary storage locker where my alien pods are hibernating, pods referring of course to my clothes in their vacuum-sealed space bags. There was definitely a rustling sound, maybe even muffled giggles, as I tugged open the padlock. 

The key to survival in there is to be quick and efficient and carry a big vacuum hose. It helps that I have an Excel spreadsheet now that catalogs my clothes by description and bag number. 

One reason I went down is to pull out this ice-blue faux fur because I knew it would go magnificently with a new addition to my closet - a luxury bag from Jamin Puech Paris. It was a gift, a mini collaboration, but rest assured my opinions are my own: I LOVE IT!!

The next photo is what happens when I get excited by a new bag - I wave it about so much you can't really see it! Please kindly skip to the photo after this one for a calmer view.

This bag, Chair, is from their Tingshas line. Dingle bits, velvety softness, high-factor swingability, and satisfying planetary orbs that click open and shut. It is a truly unique piece of handbag art, which is why I was so happy to accept this collaboration. Even the packaging was exquisite.

And look, the cuffs of my thrifted Scotch & Soda blouse match the dingle bits perfectly. Spooky, right? Hahaha. And I didn't even plan it. I'm also wearing my fake stripper track pants that zip all the way down the sides and my brown cowboy-style booties.

No one comes between me and my Jamin Puech. 

Seriously, this is a fine bag and I know I'll use it often. It was very difficult choosing which bag I want - all their designs are absolutely stunning, and I don't say that lightly. Go have a look and you'll see what I mean. Thanks, Jamin Puech. 

And below is the Chair with another outfit. I like this pairing equally well, especially with the silk velvet scarf in the mix.

Now moving along. Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, lounging on the concrete steps in outdoor wear, as one does, leafing through my journal.

What am I wearing? All things from my closet, thrifted or gifted:

• black-and-white graphic print vintage coat with red lining from my friend Su
• heavyweight vintage jacquard pants 
• men's pointy brown shoes 
• silk velvet scarf
• "Soho" glasses, gift from Vint and York in NYC in the summer
• Jamin Puech Paris handbag

Just so you know, below is the kind of sketch that litters my journals. I have hundreds of them over many years, mostly featuring Turniphead (that's me), wearing the same thing I was wearing that day, and Kitty, often Royal Kitty, wearing whatever strikes my fancy. If you spot me in a downtown cafe, chances are I'll either be sketching or colouring one of these with pencil crayons.

I also wore this black-and-white pattern-mix outfit a week ago to a Uniqlo store in Burnaby, which is a 30-minute transit ride from downtown Vancouver. Uniqlo is an international fashion retailer headquartered in Japan and I went there not necessarily to shop but to hunt for a photo of me from a global print and commercial campaign I did with them earlier in the summer. And look! 

My friend Elizabeth (IG and website) accompanied me and took the photo. I was featured in the stretchy pants section. Awesome! Hahaha. 

I hadn't mentioned the campaign to anyone because I didn't know what happened to it. Then, cincinnata_demetria, whom I know from IG, wrote that she had seen me in the Amsterdam Uniqlo. What a surprise! When I asked, she kindly sent me a photo that I posted on my IG, HERE. 

That same night, people O and I know in Japan also called, surprised to have seen me in their local Uniqlo as well.

Of course I was excited and contacted Greetje of No Fear of Fashion, who lives not too far from the Amsterdam store, and she generously went down and took a bunch more photos. Huge thanks to Greetje! And to her husband Ron, who drove the getaway car. She has a funny story about that on her blog, HERE. One of the photos she sent me is below. 

That's me in the commercial above the photo too. I'm an architect. Greetje didn't even notice until she got home that I was in there and she'd captured my scene by chance. I'm not keen on the camera angle in the ad and told Greetje, DO NOT USE!!, but I'm over it now, it's life. This was an awesome shoot. 

That's about it from here. I'll finish with this photo - showing the wall who's boss. ???!!!

I'm wearing a short lurex dress with sport-style neck and cuffs. Those are Zohara tights, which they sent me over a year ago. They have a great collection. 

Nothing else to say really. I'll end with this little journal sketch.

It's a giant cat or a little tree. You decide. A windy autumn day. 

I'll link up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for her Visible Monday, and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for her #iwillwearwhatilike. 

Thank you for visiting!!! I hope you all have a stellar week. Until next time...

Not quite minimalist, but trying hard in Mel Nation

Having fun in the summer sun, although that day I had to wear this houndstooth Pepe Jeans London jacket to keep off the morning chill. I got it at Talize thrift store in Delta, BC, during a blogger meetup in early June. See my post HERE. I liked this outfit so much, I defied gravity. It was uncanny.

Oh behave!! WHAP! Hm, I seem to be enjoying that action a bit too much. 

Who, me? I am the model of robotic poetry.

I was wearing this and that. The floaty blouse and runners, which I farked, are originally from My Sister's Closet eco thrift boutique, proceeds to Battered Women's Shelter Services in Vancouver.

The parasol has become a summer staple. I have two, both from Lily-Lark, to suit every mood. No more skulking in shadows, except my own. That would make me a self-skulker. 

The jumpsuit below is vintage '70s I'm guessing, and I sold it. What was I thinking?! I opened an Etsy shop called Mel Nation and this was the first listing - my only listing. Mel Nation is ultra, ultra exclusiff; it has nothing to do with me being lazy or decision avoidance, no, nothing whatsoever.

If you want to see my empty storefront, it's here. So exciting. When I replenish my entire inventory, I shall invite you to become citizens of Mel Nation as well. No borders, just fruity drinks with umbrellas by the poolside and a secret handshake, which I'm currently choreographing.

With the brown belt above, with no belt below. This piece is on its way to Oslo. If you hear maniacal laughter coming from the sky above, wave, as it's the jumpsuit flying overhead. 

With this massive sell-off, life here is so calm, so KonMarie, in reference to Marie Kondo's bestselling book, "The life-changing magic of tidying up." Sigh. Ohmmmm.

HaHaHaHAHAHA!!!!!

I made these sketches in 2015 - on the same day. Clearly, they are as relevant now as they were three years ago in Mel Nation, which, come to think of it, sounds almost like damnation. How weird is that? They were originally posted on July 1, 2015, "Let your clothes choose your profession, and Hat Attack." 

Below, obviously these are white wolves at the Four Seasons Hotel in downtown Vancouver.

You can see the brolly bag below. Slung over my shoulder it reminds me of Asian weaponry. Whap! 

And red.

With Turniphead. Because.

I know I'm late, but in case you missed it, Sherry of Petite Over 40 made an awesome video of our June meetup. I laugh every time I see it. Her post is Blogger Meet-Up Proves Vancouver's Got Talent. Suzanne's meetup posts are Strike a Pose Blogger Style - Blogger Meet Up 2018 and Breakfast at Tiffany's Prom Do Over.

VIDEO by Sherry, Petite Over 40

That's all from here. I'm going to link up to Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday, and Catherine at Not Dressed as Lamb for #iwillwearwhatilike.

I hope you are all well. Big hugs to all. Thank you so much for dropping by!!

Fabularsenic! And Turnip Head. And The Shelley.

Yeah, it's kind of like Janet Leigh in the shower scene in Psycho, that moment you look down and realize exactly what you've put on.

I wore them. I did, a couple of days ago. Under my maxi wool turtleneck dress, from Talize thrift store, which I bought a couple of years ago when Suzanne Carillo and Sue, A Colourful Canvas, and I met up. The leg garment was purchased a couple of years before that at a different thrift store. Sometimes I wear them around home but they felt really warm under this dress. Because of the pants, I would call this a fabularsenic look -

- except the magic loupe O made for me, which is always AWESOME. You can be my twin and get one at his Etsy shop HERE.

CLICK BELOW FOR MORE SHOCKING NEWS.

My herd of Roombas and greetings from Turnip Head

What a mess. And my maid is still on leave. Has been for a couple of decades now.

So what did I do? What any right-thinking person would do! - I purchased a herd of robotic Roombas (photo below). Over 100 of them now graze in my living room. Each time I wade slowly through the throng I am reminded of that 1973 National Geographic article "One Strange Night on Turtle Beach" - you remember the one. 

Somehow I ended up in my sketch wearing my new vintage men's overcoat and oxford-style shoes. Oh, and that's Turnip Head in the window with her friend, advertising the Big Sale! Hallooo!

It's about all those thousands of baby sea turtles that hatch on the beach and then scramble to the ocean before they're eaten. Except in this case the Roombas are the turtles; I guess that would make me, uh, the ocean. 

They seem to have imprinted me as their mama. Their little eeps and chirps greet me with such joy, with such expectation, like I'm going to vomit up a breakfast of, I don't know, sewing machine oil and dust. 

This is a Roomba, sold by a company called iRobot. They roam and vacuum your floors using remote sensors. Pets are often afraid of them, but some enjoy the ride. A Roomba costs about US$350.

Of course I would not need Roombas if my maid were here! For now my herd is in the east wing, which I'm afraid leaves the west wing, head, breast, thighs, legs, beak and feet terribly neglected in this funky chicken abode. 

Seriously, does my maid think my faux furs dance their way in and out of cold storage by themselves? Who does she think transports my precious jewels to and from the safety security jumbly pile? Who polishes the plastic cutlery? 

Turnip Head again, wearing a silky Asian-inspired jacket I got from Patti (Not Dead Yet Style) during the clothing swap last year at the blogger meetup in Vancouver. I wore that eggplant jacket this week, very "composer" outfit if you ask me, an outfit to flourish in.

It's all too much. Sigh. I need a nap. Maybe I should go feed the Roombas.

Sorry, it was this or nuthin'! Time for the big autumn clean (is there such a thing?). My neighbour has a Roomba and his cats don't even freak out about it anymore. 

A clearer view of the vintage men's overcoat, belted. And a leather money holster thingy around my neck instead of a bag. I wear it like this because it's comfortable and it leaves my hands-free. My hair is half-way to nowhere. 

It's getting darker and darker here. I think I'll soon be forced to install twinkle lights on the underside of my umbrella. Desperate measures.

I'll link something up with Patti at Not Dead Yet Style for Visible Monday because if I don't there will be consequences! I'm so happy that Patti's family made it through Florida's hurricane okay. Whew!

It was Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend too. You don't think chocolate goes on sale tomorrow, do you? Or pumpkin pie? 

Edit: I'm linking my sketch up with Catherine's Saturday Share at Not Dressed as Lamb as well. 

When a good deal is bad

I bought this maxi tunic/beach cover-up on deep discount at Topshop in their summer apparel sale, and wearing it today I kept thinking about how "factory," how mass-produced it felt compared to most of my clothes.  

The fabric is filmy in an irritating modern way and snagged from previous try-ons by strangers. I can imagine this garment falling apart in a short time. That's not what I want to think about/feel when I'm wearing something. Under the cover-up I'm wearing my jeans and a white tank.

Lesson: Try to resist the magpie allure of flashy discounted clothing at fast fashion retailers. It's not worth the investment pocket-wise or mind-wise. 

I know you're tired of hearing it, but the meet-up is on my mind. I feel pressure to look good, make my city look good, and be a good hostess. Usually when I feel like this, I take a deep breath and... 

Surrender to the chaos. 

If I still had a big studio, you would see paint flying. There's nothing I can do or make that will be good enough to meet my own expectations, let alone those of the people coming, so I shall try to meet none. Such a relief. In doing so, I shall gain the peace of mind required to look good, make my city look good, and...You get the drift.

It's an endless vicious cycle!

Other random thoughts:

Bird girl with rat-on-her-head. 

I sometimes see a woman downtown with a rat that is always on her head. 

She often feeds it from her own mouth. 

This is how I looked on a day I wore my gold sequin top. 

I wore the sequins with a colourful striped blouse, untucked, my houndstooth 

Steve Madden stretch pants, and my mustard shag coat and running shoes.

It's a short post but I needed to say a big hello! I have been strenuously practising the art of non-obligation blogging lately as part of chaos mode (and work mode). Commenting has been random and fleeting. Regular programming will resume after the meetup. Until then, breathe...

And I must thank Sally at Already Pretty for the shout-out on her weekly Lovely Links of July 10 for my post on compliments that go bad. It's always an honour to be included in her eclectic lineup.

July blogger meetup in Vancouver!

Aaaack! The International +40 blogger brawl meetup in Vancouver is SOON!

So far, about 25 bloggers from around the world will be descending on my fair city. And I challenge those of you who have a passion for dressing up to make this the most stylish convergence of +40 women Canada has ever seen. (Believe me, it won't be hard, especially in Vancouver - even with practical walking shoes.) Maybe you'll inspire me to restart my street style blog!

Many of you are staying at the Blue Horizon Hotel downtown. Imagine the pyjama parties, the junk food, the imbibing, and the blackmail photo ops! Partaking in such childish behaviour of course will be at your discretion, or lack thereof, although it's possible we'll be too wiped out to keep our eyes open past midnight. We'll blame it on jet lag, shall we, despite the fact I live here.

Meeting you will be like meeting celebrities. Miz Bagg is, of course, non-plussed by the whole thing seeing as how her entire life is about ego and celebrity. She recently invited me on set for the Vancouver photo shoot of her friend, who hitched a ride back to town on the private Bagg Jet after wrapping up a sold-out concert tour of Europe. Imagine the sound of my jaw hitting the floor when I heard the friend's name: Sue of A Colourful Canvas.

This is Sue of A Colourful Canvas.

Well, that is the Sue I knew at any rate. All light and sunshine and creativity... It turns out she has a secret life, a darker life, a lewd life as a nasty international rock guru and top spokesmodel for hit products. Rumour on set was that Nike has just signed Sue for their new campaign: Don't do it!!

Sue's signature snarl. I know - can you believe it?

Really, at every turn it was "*&%$ this" and "#$!#* that." She's the only person I know, except Diavola, who can hold her own, expletive-wise, with Miz Bagg. Attitude, I've never witnessed anything this extreme.

In the middle of the shoot, without warning, Sue disappeared into her trailer with Miz Bagg and several roadies and photographers for a couple of hours, for "a nap." When she finally tumbled out, she gave me the finger (below)! And Miz Bagg mooned me (sorry, no photo).

I managed a few days ago, through Miz Bagg's assistant Enid, to get my hands on a mock-up of a print ad featuring one of the afternoon's shots, which will headline an orange juice campaign in the UK later this year. Apparently, Sue was paid over 5 million euro by Orange Growers of the Arctic for this endorsement. That's Sue flashing the crew! Sue leads the negative advertising trend - in fact, she pioneered it with Miz Bagg.

Bwa-ha-ha!! I had so much fun on this shoot. I happened to have a couple of wigs in my bag when I met Sue for coffee (who doesn't?), and I was wearing the robe. On the shoot I kept yelling at Sue (the fan was loud), "Look angry! Look pissed off! You're a b*tch! You're a b*tch!", which only made us laugh more. I'm sure people in the highrises around us were entertained: me, stumbling in my high geta sandals then crouched on the ground very pro-like, trying not to get piss hand, and Sue, flapping in front of the high-power air vent asking, "Do I look angry?" 

We also got lots of excellent glam shots - Sue posted a couple here - but in this post I chose to share the other Sue. (FYI, Sue said it's okay so we're still friends. Right, Sue?!)

For me, the point of the meetup is something like what these photos are. An escape. A holiday. A time to play and get to know each other better. To explore.

If you're thinking of joining the meetup, it's time to get on it! Suzanne needs your information as soon as possible, at least before July 15, so she can organize everything. And don't worry; if Miz Bagg scares you, there are all kinds of women coming with a variety of interests and talents. I'll be there, me, Melanie. I'm not sure if Miz Bagg's schedule permits. And Sue will be there, the good Sue. And of course, Suzanne, not sure which one. Heh.

FULL MEETUP DETAILS ARE HERE, 
Suzanne Carillo's blog.

See you later? 

Let your clothes choose your profession, and Hat Attack

I start out well. Tra-la-la. Tra-la-la. Lovely clean home. Lovely clean mind. Decluttering! Hurrah!

Then I degenerate into this. I'll spare you the inner dialogue; it would all be punctuation marks anyway.

I could have used a massive dose of the Dalai Lama at Glastonbury. Or maybe just Glastonbury. Or maybe just a few Glastonbury beverages - not the milk.

As it was, I made do with this: the "Coffee and a Muffin" special. The coffee was nutty. No refunds were requested. No baristas were harmed. It was a face muffin, a muffin as big as my face, almost as good as face doughnuts.

All this cleaning (which also includes more space-bagging), all this caffeine, all this muffiny goodness, it opens my mind to the universe.

So I wore this vintage barkcloth maxi the other day. You may have seen it before - but not with my lovely lava pendant paired with that other one, looking very, dare I say, fly? And bracelets. I don't wear them often because my wrists are small and the bangles clamp my hands when they dangle down. 

So here we have a Hawaiian-made dress with lava jewels and hiking boots (with fringe and platforms, an improvement on the standard fare). Do I sense a pattern here? Why, of course - I should be a vulcanologist! It's so clear now. Open your mind. Let your clothes guide you!! 

Pffft. Although I wouldn't mind investigating a black-sand beach with a lovely Mai Tai.

The sun has been wickedly strong these days and I scurry about in the shadows, and hide, very Clouseau-like, in the shade of light standards at intersections. The loud clop, clop, clop of my wooden soles and the billowing neon-yellow robe I sometimes wear instead of sunscreen, which I detest, of course enhance my sleuth appeal. Wait, now just wait a second - it's coming into focus. I should be a bumbling detective! 

Okay, I'd be good at bumbling but not detecting. And keeping up a fake accent would be tiring.

And below is what I wore today, a scarf instead of a hat for Judith's Hat Attack 24 at her blog Style Crone, where she's wearing a beauty designed by Carol Markel. My scarf has cute little drawings of dogs all over it. With the proper attention my hair stands up like little stalks growing from a head planter. In terms of cosmic profession messages, I was getting mixed signals. Rock star or...

Saint. (The halo around my head might be mistaken for a decorative plate on the wall.) 

I would suck at sainthood. Nunh. That's a pure silk maxi dress with the same jewels as my first outfit and then some. I boosted the saturation to make it more saintly. 

Explanation for this post: 

It's been so hot it's hard to type, it's hard to move, it's hard to keep a thought in my head unless it's to do with eating, drinking, taking little naps, and colouring. 

What career are your clothes telling you you should be these days? 

To my fellow Canadians, Happy Canada Day. We are 148 years old, although our flag recently just turned 50, younger than me. I'M OLDER THAN OUR National FLAG?!!! Friggin' FRIG!!