Where angels go, trouble follows

I was feeling particularly Scottish, punk, rebel boarding-school girl, so this is what I wore.

This outfit also makes me think of the 1968 movie Where Angels Go, Trouble Follows, in which Stella Stevens, a young nun with gumption, and Rosalind Russel, Mother Superior, drive a busload of giggling high-school girls from St. Francis Academy to an inter-faith rally in faraway California. It was 1968, remember? This movie, which I saw on TV later, was the first time I thought nuns could be groovy.

So I've got on the "code" kilt, well below the knee, vintage (both the knees and the kilt), from Marks & Spencer. Plus, I bought it at a church, the West Vancouver United Church Flea Market. Probably the kilt/church combo made me think of that movie. The ultra-high-top runners (with rear zip, whew!) are from My Sister's Closet and the faux fur jacket is from Community Thrift.

I always liked Stella Stevens. She was in another zany TV movie called Call Her Mom, 1972. She played the housemother for a bunch of fun-loving boys at a frat house. Oh yes, highly plausible. I was very young when I saw it, but the movie inspired me to start writing my first screenplay. Hahaha. I wish I still had it! I drew Stella's face on the cover.

Another reason I loved Where Angels Go was the theme song. And I found it on YouTube!! It's a bit Gidget, but hey. It's by Tommy Boyce and Bobby Hart. But I can picture myself bopping around home in my bib-front, two-tone purple bell bottoms and red striped top at the time.

A little sass below.

And below, what I wore today, and I wasn't even cold! My legs kept throwing off the camera's white balance. That's an expression of bliss, imagining that I have some brownies and a couple of C-notes in my lunchbag handbag. What more could a gal want?

I just noticed today that Montecristo Magazine has posted me on their Instagram account HERE. Hurray!! I'm happy how well that piece, Defying Ageist Fashion Rules: Styleactivism, has gone. You can read my post about it here. I would love to do more articles/photos like this.

Canada definitely needs more women over 50 in ALL MEDIA. Everyone needs more representation of women over 50!

I used a binoculars prop to gaze into my future. All I saw was my tripod, really badly out of focus. Heh. But I was still feeling like a beacon of positive energy having survived a dizzyingly (great word) busy couple of months.

Below is a detailed picture of the inner workings of my brain. I am very fond of this piece. It's just over 4 feet square.

That's all from here. Stay groovy!!

Of course I'll link up to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style and Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb.

Another audition - it's almost like being famous! Almost, not quite.

Some bigwigs called and asked me to "be myself." I failed. Heh.

Yip, the casting agency called again. Gaaa! If this keeps up, I'll have to get a real DAYTIMER, not an electronic thingy because they are not real enough. I need pages that can be dripped on and ripped. And a Bic pen (do they still make them?) because, after all, I would be an artiste, not some executive in a skyscraper boardroom like MizBagg.

As a reminder to you, this is my third TV commercial audition since May 2016. Things are going super fast! - 11 months between the first (here) and second (here), and only 8 months until this latest one. Stop the Earth - everything is a blur!

Strolling through Ackery's Alley. Read more about it here.

When I got there, the waiting room was packed with people "being themselves" to the max. My hair was high, my hopes were high, and my anxiety was at an all-time low as these things go. I knew it would end badly. Heh. What I wore is here.

This time it was just me and the casting director in the audition room, with a bank of computers and cameras, and I don't know what else. First I had to stand in front of the camera and state my name and height. Thank goodness I knew those lines. Then I had to sit in a comfy leather chair in the stage area and talk about myself. And I did... And I did... CUT!!!

But then I had to dance. Oh, dear reader, I don't dance; I do Martha Graham interpretive movements, lunges and feints and crawls. I preemptively knew I was done for. For my song - we got to pick our own - I chose Rock Lobster by the B52s. It was that or Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries. Hey, they said to "be yourself."

I pogo-ed, I hopped and spun, I churned, stumbled, ran into furniture, got really dizzy, light-headed even with all that quick up-and-down bending, and I wagged my tongue during the weird bits of the song. Fer real. No spit flew, though, which I was thankful for - there are no wiper blades on the camera and the director was not wearing a bib. It would have been rude.

I was channeling comedian Maria Bamford, who is currently starring in the Netflix series, Lady Dynamite. She is very unconventional in public, scripted and unscripted too (she makes no secret of her struggles with mental illness), and nobody blinks an eye. If you are delicate, don't watch it. Suzanne introduce me to her.

Towards the end of my exertions, when I finally remembered I was being filmed, I caught sight of the director, who was waving his arms back and forth over his head, like at some of those religious meetings you see, which made me think, hmm, do I do a 360 and go all tabernacle or keep my Martha G funk on? You guessed it. Go Martha G! Go Maria B!

At the end, just as I was leaving, the casting agent said, Wow, I, uh, felt your energy. I panted back, exhausted, "That was fun, thanks." Done. Really done. I have to say, the casting agent is a super-cool guy. I'm getting to know him now, and vice versa, which means maybe I can hold off on my big daytimer purchase and Bic pen.

Of course, no call back. My "me" was too me, or not the "me" the client was looking for. The shoot will be in a tropical country abroad for $$$. For a drink company. Of course I had to try though. And test out my new Maria Bamford-as-confidence-booster technique. It worked. High five! And if I'm called again, yeah, I'll go. Why not?

I found the commercial from the last audition I went to HERE. I had to say the line, "And the scary things eat you," awesome line. I thought I did it well, well, not tooooo badly, but in the final version it is delivered by a super-cute little girl. Well, I ask you, how can I compete with that? Hahaha. I love the ad, though.

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

On a final note, they asked when I signed in for this audition whether I could open a bottle using any body parts. I wonder how they would have responded if I said I can do it with my sphincter on a bad day. Heh. I haven't tried - won't. Have you!? Let me know in the comments (she writes, trying to keep a straight face).

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!

Hat Attack 3 and mini VOGOFF promo video

Whirlwind of a day: my assistant would not stop shrieking about the botched liposuction job on her hideous globular index finger (I had to sedate her); my cobbler's eyes glazed over and he started drooling (or was that foaming?) when I demanded he glue purple lug platforms onto my Blahnik stilettos; the water in my preferred downtown fountain was a degree too cold so my morning shower was RUINED, and; my arm-hair stylist is once again missing in the Alps, which is incredibly selfish and idiotic since I told him to postpone his trip until AFTER my appointment. Everyone is fired. What's happening to the world? And then to top it off, someone told me the US government has shut down. What, do I look stupid?!

Wearing psychedelic fuzzy paisley top hat with hairy/shaggy soft vest, striped oversized Talbots pants, booties - all thrifted. Plus an oversized dark navy pullover on top of my woolly black tunic. Me-made mega-mantis pendant on a broken leather shoelace and glasses. No nice pictures are allowed in this post - new rule.

Oh, and then I got a call from that biatch Miz Bagg from VOGOFF gloating about her new facial unguent. Give it up already, I wanted to tell her, you look like a cow, no amount of pureed insect dung will make you look better. Who does she think she is? 

This is my hat for Style Crone's Hat Attack #3. Thanks, Judith! (Don't you love her video?) I wore this hat special for her. It's the most fun hat I have (so far). I don't walk when I wear this outfit - I stomp. These bootie heels are the best at making noise and this hat is best at busting out a few smiles, a few laughs, and perhaps a few big gasps like noxious gas as I stomp by. Excellent.

I made the video below as a small promo piece for VOGOFF, featuring some of the clips that I have amassed from my style parkouring outings with Sandra, Lens is More, as part of a bid for VOGOFF global domination. (VOGOFF would never shut down, I swear.) I hope you like it, the video and my domination. This is my life, or at least the part that counts, the creative drooling part.

I'm skulking the net and comment when I can. Hugs, everyone!! Hang in there for those affected by the shutdown. That's some crazy-ass ship. 

Double waisted

Why have only one waist when you can have two, I always say. These stripy pants are very low-slung, which I love, and I like the wide-cut shorty jacket too, but I was seeing too much black so I added this fantastic belt I recently thrifted to add another waist and a pop of colour.

Can I tell you how much I like this belt? It's very long so after twirling myself up in it I left the ends dangling like little tassels.  This is a perfect party outfit, just what I need for Patti's Visible Monday!

Here's the look I ended up with.

The Basics:

• pants, Joe Fresh, thrifted
• belt, thrifted, $3
• jacket, thrifted
• stretch wedge booties, thrifted (it was raining today so my footwear options were reduced)
• black T, Sport Chek

Below is a close-up of the belt. Note the glittery yellow disc in the centre - it's the superhuman power source. The studio lights kept turning it on which had the curious effect of making me levitate, so I had to keep changing my angle. Look at that loverly macrame! The tassels have beads on the end, good for flicking about. 

And I have taken a couple of pieces of art off the rack so the visuals behind me are different. There is a lot of action on the art front these days... The piece on the right has little volcanoes on it made from sculpting fibre, and they are full of primordial colours waiting to explode. Maybe the volcanoes are the ancestral home of my belt disc - how romantic, reunited at last.

Me at one with my volcanos. 

Have a great week all!

Call me Mr. Talbot

I have finally worn these pants again. They are lightweight but I reason that the extreme gathering pushes these babies into honorary wool. They are Talbots, which is a store I like but never shop at; these I picked up for a couple of bucks at a thrift store. Only about four sizes too big, I sewed two giant darts at the front, hike the pants above my waist, and belt the whole mess. Voila. Miraculously the pockets are still accessible. I'm never one to let size stand in the way of a great feeling.

Details of the outfit:

• Talbots pants, perhaps in rayon, I didn't check, thrifted, gathered like mad
• needlepoint-like vest (there's a proper word, brocade but not shiny), a hand-me-over. This vest was much too big as well so I took in the seams drastically on the sides and top of the shoulders. It's stiff feeling but satisfying
• Zara tuxedo shirt with those weeny horizontal pleats on the top, thrifted (again, there must be a proper word - please teach me if you know!)
• shoes, thrifted. OH MY, I LOVE THESE SHOES. They are an interesting vinyl and they sparkle like sequins but it's just the stamping they did in the texture that makes them reflect light. The heel is covered in off white leather. They feel very, very '30s. 
• wool/cashmere coat, thrifted

Oh mum, look, I'm a man! It's like Coco Chanel had a wicked hangover and pulled on her friend's hideous vest instead of her pearls - at least I was thinking Coco at the time because I love the manly styles she threw together early on. 

And one goofy pose to show that I'm behind all these serious faces.

I am happy to put this outfit on Patti's Visible Monday. It's like a little tea party where everyone can get together and be fabulous. Thank you, Patti!