Life like brandy, cheese, and furry blue meatballs

A furry blue meatball with feet, on the warming plate, that's what I look like. This is another photo from the night I went to hear photo/conceptual artist Ian Wallace speak at Rennie Collection in Chinatown, where Vancouver Barbara took these next three photos. 

The next photo is one of my favourites ever. I've stepped into a Hopper painting or a scene from a classic movie. VO: "She was a shaggy dame in Shanghai Alley with a mixed up box of Cracker Jacks as Prada, looking for a two-bit schmuck with more cents than brains." (VO means voice-over)

This next one was taken in line waiting to get into the talk. My sushi sweatshirt! from you know where - My Sister's Closet - and high-waisted pants, retail, super duper discount. My sponsored posts for Look Fabulous Forever are done but I'm wearing their makeup in these shots, Sweet Pea lipstick and their eye shadows.

And what have we here? Oh, that would be me at my latest workshop!: Diva Tales of Fashion Corruption. Oh yeeeeah, such a good time. It was produced by the Style Cabal, comprised of Barbara, Deb, and Judy, from the Vancouver Guild of Fibre Arts, where I did a talk last May, and myself.

Below I'm introducing some of my favourite inspiring style bloggers. Of course, that's Judith, Style Crone, on the monitor. Note the props everywhere. Heh.

These photos are courtesy of Vivian, whom you met on my blog HERE. Huge thanks!

The Style Cabal gals joined me for a rousing Broadway number during the show. What a riot, the crowd went wild, but no one threw their panties at the stage...!? (Thank you.) [Edit: We all wore amazing crowns, which Judy made, example HERE.] And I showcased a selection of my farked clothing. People who attended also discussed and strutted their own farking and fabulous outfits.

Below, evidence that everyone was feeling me up! That's what happens when you speak to a room of sewers. We all want to touch the fabric.

I spent a couple of hours whipping clothes off and on but the time flew by. Nothing like baring your underwear in a room full of strangers to calm the nerves. Almost like those naked dreams coming true, not necessarily in the Cinderella way.

I also showcased this T-shirt that friend Suzanne Carillo made me - "Dressed to Piss You Off," which she sells HERE. So good. 

Note the chaos. And note the Freakish Yellow Skirt!! This kind of jumble freaks me out, but when you are doing quick changes it can't be helped. I carefully returned many of these things to their numbered, annotated space bags when I got home. 

This next photo was taken by artist/poet/fibre artist Y, whom I met at the Guild talk. The photo on the monitor was taken by Vancouver Barbara when we were shopping at Dressew. Of course I had to have that wig. And a new concept was born - tag as earring.

In a discussion with Y, she brought up the topic of wrinkles in the universe. The guy who "invented" them won a Nobel Prize. Doh, of course the universe has wrinkles, it's pretty frickin' old. 

But the real prize should go to the person who invents a lotion for that. Or attempts a facelift of the cosmos with our obsession to be smooth. Then again, assuming there's time travel in space, the universe can simply rewind itself any time. 

Where's my rewind button?! Would I use it if I had it? Would you?

I'm feeling slightly Mr. Clean here, in reference to a bulky, white bald man, who dresses in white and flits around our homes making our kitchens and bathrooms sparkly fresh with his products. He used to be a cartoon and then the ad geniuses turned him into a real human. Just leave it alone!, I say.

Anyway, this outfit feels so chemically white I could melt cheese on it. There's my white moto jacket. My pants were falling down for real so after these photos and before I went on my inspiration walk, I put on my unisuspender. Wardrobe malfunction narrowly averted.

Of course I'm wearing my T-shirt "I am my own brand," which should read, "I am NOT a brand." It's very Magritte of course. My online presence is brandish because it's merely a visual representation of who I am. Which makes me brandy, a good stiff drink. (That's the Cherry Red LFF lipstick.)

Must fly. Much to do. If you want me to do a talk to your group, have your people call my people. This is a thing I do now. I quite like being a ham, with melted cheese. Yes, cheesy.

Best stop now. And you'll be glad that I followed the rule of making very SOE-friendly blog titles. I know I'll get tons more traffic with the words "furry blue meatball" in there.

I'll link up to Patti at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, and Catherine at "I will wear what I like!" at Not Dressed as Lamb.

White moto jacket two ways, casual AND executive

Ready? Brace yourself! It's two outfits with one jacket. But can I pull it off?! What do you bloody think? It's a frickin' jacket.

The other morning I was compelled by an unseen force (no, I'm sure it was the huge SALE sign that did it) to go into the store across the street and I left with that white moto jacket. After I paid.

Look 1: Moto Jacket Casual Style (subcategory Rocker Lite)

Real rockers and fake real rockers scowl and wear black. Only fake fake rockers smile and wear white jackets. I wish I hadn't rolled up jeans, but note the double-belt action. Oh yeeeeah.

Wearing: Bardot jeans from sample sale, Miu Miu boots thrifted, Gap t-shirt thrifted, magic loupe and two magic pendants from O, two belts both thrifted, mechanical watch from O, white motorcycle jacket from sale

This look is majorly mainstream so I pumped it up with lighthouse hair and mega-'tude - works every time. I was influenced to get my rock-on by two scholarly YouTube videos I watched recently: 

1. "How to look like a Rockstar on stage with a Guitar," taught by a man who doesn't play guitar. Excellent. And then I couldn't stop myself watching - 
2. "Rockstar Fashion: How To Dress Like A Rockstar" by Make Me That Guy. The female-version videos I saw were so wussy. Pitui. (says the woman in the white moto jacket)

Poor Kitty has a pain in his neck. My dance moves can have that effect.

What those video guys say makes sense. My take: is dressing to look like a rockstar any different than, say, dressing to look like a magazine trend or, how do the snobs put it, au courant? Both looks are costumes of a sort.

I can't appreciate the many loops drawn by these questions in my brain until I've fully recovered from my 'tude hangover, but seriously, we all pull the threads we like until the whole logic unravels anyway. You feel good? You wear it. How do the snobs put it? - feckin' eh.

Look 2: Moto Jacket Executive(ish) Style 

As promised, yes, another iteration!! A second look!!! I'm giddy with non-frigging excitement. Actually, I was excited. I can wear this stinkin' outfit to the office, to the supermarket, to the dry cleaners, to police headquarters, but never, ever, ever to a daycare!!!

Wearing: Cirque du Soleil graphic cotton tank gift, pinstripe pencil skirt thrifted, stretch kitten-heel shoes retail, white moto jacket

That's it. That's the piece right there close up. It's so frigging fantastic. 

Fake leather, how appropriate. I thought it would be like wearing a mini sauna or miracle body wrap - bonus! I tucked a fake rocker handkerchief in my bag to mop up the melting poundage just in case. Too real? A bit gross? But it was cool outside. No sweat! 

The stores are maggoty with moto jackets. I thought this trend was done. Wrong. 

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I lost my keys in the abyss of my bag the other day and had to empty the entire contents onto the hood of my car. O said it was like watching one of those cop shows. I was ready to be arrested when one pink rubber glove flopped out. He didn't raise an eyebrow. Heh.