Social media tutorial, heh

Part 1: How to use Instagram 

My "student" has her new phone, whilst I, Grand Master Supreme, demonstrate my superior IG expertise with my phone.

Me: Okay, and then you click that button there and you should see that. Oh, you don't see it. Well, go back. No, back, back. And click that. Oh, hmm, not THAT, wait, go back. Oh, yeah, this is a good feature, just click there and then you see... Oops. 

Yeah - no! NO! Click NEXT. Wait, your phone doesn't have NEXT and mine does. Why don't you have NEXT? So we'll go back, no, not there, probably it's here somewhere...

Highly productive, highly. At least we had some booze and breakfast and photo-taking, hot booze, the kind that burns going down but looks so innocent, the colour of fruit. 

And we baked on a rooftop, not as in kitchen. The heat was good just the same, although I didn't get golden brown and a toothpick didn't pop out of my head when I was "done," which would be a neat trick.  

Part 2: How to upload photos from a laptop to Instagram

My "student" has her phone and a laptop. I, Grand Master Supreme, have nothing, absolutely nothing, except a few crumbs of toast on my top.

Me: Right, so, if you upload to here you can... No, wait, not to your laptop, let's try your phone. How did you do that? Show me again. Okay, I see it. Great! It's there! (high fives all around) Hm, I forget what's next.

Student: Didn't you say to go here?

Me: RIGHT! Very good. Now, how about you delete some of this stuff here? No, don't. DON'T! Go back, BACK. Okay, good. Where's your thingie? That little box thing... 

Student: You mean the icon?

Me: Jeez, looks like you're full so you can do another account over here then move those to here and delete those and then just upload there and there. Did you write that down? Oh, oops, forget everything I just said.

_______________________________________

The high point was when she clicked on a button that neither of us knew what would happen and it worked. I can't believe how good I am teaching social media! I constantly surprise myself. If you would like to book a tutorial, meet me in the bar. Or find me baking on the roof, chocolate croissants with alligator oven mitts.

I'm throwing a little hibiscus in the mix.

From bark cloth. 

From Hawaii.

Can you hear the ukuleles?

Click HERE to hear the LAVA love song. 

(Thanks, Sue)

I'll link up with Patti at Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style. I'll carry the punch bowl for you this week! In fact, I hope you just put your feet up and enjoy the show. And I'll link up with Catherine at #iwillwearwhatilike at Not Dressed as Lamb too. 

Did you come to my holiday party?

If you were at my bloggy holiday party, you probably don't even remember - that's how good it was. But I hope you at least remember what I WORE!! - this divoon vintage, ivory crepe wool gown with a mink collar - a gift from an estate. I think the original owner had it custom-made - it even has pockets. Long black gloves, black tights, and glitter platform booties completed the look.

Of course as Grand Hostess I was worried about carrying the evening off, but within an hour I knew I had nothing to fear: the French-style-loving bloggers had already hopped up onto the bar and begun disrobing and belting out bawdy German songs off key.

The lifestyle/home decor bloggers in attendance kept turning the other music off and on (which really pissed off my mariachi band) for their game of musical chairs/couches/tables while rating my furniture on its design, craftsmanship, durability, and comfort.

Below I am practising my Psycho face for later in the evening.

The food bloggers hung out at the buffet and in the washrooms. They couldn't get over my Ritz cracker and Spam canapes. Like fine wine they would nibble, spit, then quickly swill the dregs of any beverage within reach, yelling, "Oh my god! Oh my god!" I had no idea theses canapes would be so popular - I'm thinking now I should do a food blog.

The fingermouthing trendy set took advantage of the hair-mussing station I had installed with industrial fans and the photo booth, which included a Where's Waldo map on the floor to help prevent gaze fatigue. Below I rehearse my own new fingermouthing pose for the photo booth. Look away if it's too hot. Seriously, soon all +40 women will be doing this - it's a look that says, "Hellz yeah, I'm frickin' hot. Leave me the feck alone. Got any Advil?" The wisdom of aging.

Thankfully, coat check service was not required with the continuing trend of wearing one's winter coat falling off, which was ideal for dusting my floors and mopping up around the buffet.

The vintage and thrift bloggers basically spent the night raiding the closets looking for old stuff. I had to referee a couple of brawls among them, which was the highlight of the party for me, that and joining in a few Marlene Dietrich tunes with the French-style-loving bloggers on the bar. The beauty bloggers were so impressed with our hairstyles after the brawls that they joined in the fun.

In the next photo I am about release a few unruly guests from lockup. Is it coming back to you at all? Hm? Might I suggest a few more canapes to re-volt your memory?

I took most of these photos of my party outfit in the garbage room atelier before the guests started arriving. Because I was using flash photography, the room was pitch black. When I sat on the big styrofoam bag, second photo, I suddenly started to sink as the containers beneath me gave way with an eruption of cracking sounds like a Canadian ice-breaker valiantly cutting a passage across the frozen Arctic. I maintained my composure, however, despite the heels, a general lack of mobility, the gown, not being able to see a thing, and my sinking masthead.

HOPE YOU ALL HAVE A SPECTACULAR HOLIDAY - if this is something you celebrate, of course. XO

I am linking up with Catherine's #iwillwearwhatilike on her blog Not Dressed as Lamb.

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!!

Search words: Egypt, zigzags, oil rig, Pao

This is how I walked downtown today, like an Egyptian hieroglyph. "No drama here, everyone. Thaaat's right. Move along. Resume your usual activities. Move along," yelled the strange man who had joined me out of nowhere to direct traffic with these scripted lines I had scribbled quickly as I ran out the door. Walking like this is serious business and I was glad of the help. When I returned home I spent several hours by the pool nibbling nippies (last eaten here) and imbibing martinis to regain my strength for a fancy dress ball on my favourite oil rig in the Bering Sea later this evening.

Naturally, amazing things happen when you wear amazing clothing like this fine gown courtesy of gob-stoppingly talented Pao of Project Minima, and her mother who used to wear it and who sadly passed away not long ago. The magic of Pao's mum still definitely inhabits this dress, made by Paul Stanley of New York - I have never had so many compliments on a dress before. EVER!

The dress is a vanilla-coloured knit with brown zigzags and a huge chocolate velvet bow belt which fluttered wonderfully in the light sea breeze. I'm also wearing my thrifted D&G shoes, blue paisley socks, and wonder-butt Italian pantyhose. I first wore this dress here, Kiss of the drunken spider woman.

The dress in motion, above, so much better than static. The first and last photos, set in my garbage room atelier, are from a video clip so they are slightly grainy. That's my new haircut too - I had to say good-bye to my Warholian locks which were starting to curl at the nape of my neck. My grey hair blends well with the platinum but soon I'll need more decolouring as well. Life is an unending rhythm of sloughing and shedding and changing colour, with drooping. [Edit: I put on my cartoon face later in July]

I think I'll link this one up to Patti at Visible Monday, unless I post again before then. Who knows? Walking on the wild side, we tend to live one. day. at. a. time. Achoo. I'm finally able to get back into making the rounds so I'll see you soon!

Zennie side up

PS: If u have received an od comment from me, it is becoz I'm am on strike from speling and grammer until Wensday. My account has not be hackked but feel free to delet my sloppy stile from yer blog.

He said, "Awesome! You look totally Zen. Like you are completely at one with the universe," he being the cool dude who passed me on the sidewalk (seemingly in possession of his faculties). That's precisely the look I was going for(!), NOT what you see in the photo above, but my maxi violet/fuchsia dress and magic green shaggariffic boots I wore when Jean of Dross into Gold was in town, here, minus the robe. The fact that I was levitating, not walking, is probably what struck him first, an ability born at precisely 12:50 AM when I closed out a daunting work project three glorious days before deadline.

Massive chandelier earrings and a neon pink bob-cut wig newly purchased for $12, swinging neatly - secretly- in my bag were also excellent flotation devices. And if all this weren't enough, I discovered a new French cafe that sells mini cheesecakes and other pastry minis for $1.89 each, but of course, being a beady-eyed thrifty gal bent on celebrating three days snatched from the abyss, I bought the three-treat deal for $4.75. Of course I'd be losing money if I didn't.

NO PHOTO!!

NO PHOTO!!

NO PHOTO!!

OF ZENWEAR

I have no photos of my "Zen" day, but they would have just come out as big balls of light anyway. I do, however, have a photo of what I was wearing the day BEFORE - I consider it a rehearsal outfit.

BEFORE Outfit:

• thrifted vintage too-short maxi dress worn as a midi, made in Honolulu 
• striped socks 
• red glitter-soled shoes 
• thrifted neon green/aqua/black blouse 
• magic loupe made by O 
• vintage mechanical watch from O
• even wedding bands made by O 

The red dress, above and top,  is what I wore today two days after Zen Day.
By the way, that is NOT a pose, it's a stance, a way of being that I call "Pink Flamigo".
You'll not only see me doing this at bars, outside wo-men's bath-rooms, and in elegant dining rooms, but at any time of the day or evening, it's so much FUN!! You may even hire me to stand on your lawn.

Be sure to alternate legs to avoid excessive muscle build-up and lopsidedness - you don't fall to tip over into the curry chicken buffet! Mounting yourself on a skateboard is also an option I recommend if you have a rope long enough to tie around your waist to be towed by a) wayward children; b) adults; c) other wildlife.

Wearing:

thrifted cheongsam dress thingy with massive slit up one side

thrifted graphic turtleneck

thrifted lucky charm bag

thrifted earrings

magic loupe

thrifted shoes

socks retails

I'm linking this up to Bella's Secondhand First soiree over at The Citizen Rosebud. And I'm linking up with Patti too, Visible Monday is here again.
PS: I'm also linking this up to Mis Papelicos' Share-in-Style: Red.

No matter how busy I am, I always, ALWAYS make a point of going on a morning inspiration walk to one of my favourite downtown cafes to journal, sip hot coffee in a window seat, and catch up on life with the talented young musicians, dancers, and actors who temp as baristas and with friends when our paths cross.

As part of my celebration, I'm giving up proper grammar and spelling at least until Wednesday. It's all such a bore. If yu notiss stuf like this, it's because I'm rebelling. re-belling. re-belle-ing.

  normcore   

Norm Corp.

Norm Corps 

normcorpse 

...although you probably won't notice because I won't be writing much, as I need to stay away from The Machine during recovery.

Did you vote for Vix yet for Vintage Personality of 2014? Git over there!! My voice is a faint echo of the many other fantastic bloggers who know her magic and have already put out the call. 

All I can say is: 

Vix is like a fresh spring shower in a world that likes to play in mud, although I know Vix must be a damned fine mud wrestler as well. 

Kiss of the drunken spider woman

I'm not in space any more but the retro rocket is still firing - thanks to this gift from the fabulous PAO from Project Minima: vintage maxi knit dress with an enormous brown velvet bow, once worn by her mother. Clearly we know that PAO is exploding with style and artistic talent, but now we also know that she inherited some pretty awesome get-your-groove-on genes from her mum.

It's too bad I didn't have a champagne glass as an accessory when I went out today, as surely the elevationary effervescence from a raised glass of bubbly would have flown me and this magical dress to my coffee shop in very good time and in much better style than Mary Poppins with her priggish umbrella; I would just have to hang on to the stem of the glass very tightly and watch out for spills. This dress made me feel very '60s martini/champagne party and bewitching at the same time. 

After my photo session I remembered a photo I had seen of Sonia Braga in her Spider Woman role from the movie Kiss of the Spider Woman. Our poses are similar but I think for my own good I'll end all comparisons there! Her web is very Alexander McQueen, don't you think?

My walk home was challenging: Step step step POSE. Step step step POSE. Sometimes you've just got to flaunt it; I'm glad I didn't pull a muscle from the exertion. "Here she comes, A-walkin' down the street, She gets the funniest looks from, Everyone she meets..." (Lyrics from the Monkees)

Details of the outfit:

• knit maxi dress, by Paul Stanley, New York, gift from the magnificent PAO
• maxi white nylon slip, thrifted (it came with my maxi sequin dress here)
• animal print shoes, Dolce and Gabbana, thrifted
• pantyhose(!), retail
• wooden matryoshka*, retail, Lee Valley Tools, refashioned by me, hardware by O

Accessory-wise I made do with the all-knowing-eye teacup carrier that I made from a wooden matryoshka - colour on one side (above), black and white on the other (below). The following photo also gives you a better idea of the fabric. The geometric pattern is a dark chocolate brown on ivory and there are textural horizontal lines throughout the fabric as well. I really needed the slip. (*edit: I learnt the correct word is matryoshka or matrushka, not babushka as originally posted)

So a huge thanks and hugs to PAO for making my magical journey possible today!! I couldn't have done it without you. This is my new absolute favourite dress!! 

My outfits often remind me of animals, plants, and even, in this case, a female spider. Do you make comparisons like that about your outfits? Curious. I hope you are enjoying your magical journeys in your fabulous frocks and slacks and what have you's. Breathe, breathe, breathe, aaaah.

(When I say today in this post, I mean yesterday; I wrote this up last night.)