Yellow Skirt Freak Show Update!! and Visible Monday

Great balls of 

sunshine, grapefruit, and rainbow salad

The Freakish Yellow Skirt has landed on

Anne M. Bray of 

Spy Girl

for an "Indian jingle jangle" of salubrious

juicy-fruity frolicking.

See Anne's mesmerizing skirt contortions

With floral sprays and sunny shawl

G o !   G O   N O W !!!

____________________________________________________________________

Thank you, Anne for your brilliant styling!

And other news: VISIBLE MONDAY, Feeling Like Fungus

The rain, oh sweet autumn rain. Yesterday and today I was feeling rather fungal or like a root vegetable to be at one with the leaf rot under foot. This is what I wore.

It was an outfit of nothing. Nothing.

Oversized jeans, top, maxi cardigan, stretch boots, no makeup whatsoever. Fungus does not wear lipstick. I was stripped bare, plain, root runners sprouting from my soles trying to take hold in the soggy earth in an attempt at reabsorption.

Sometimes I just want to disappear into the air, be invisible, even though I do believe that a day not dressing up is a day wasted, Vix's mantra. But this WAS my dressing up, okay, perhaps sideways. I was just melancholy. But then yesterday, as I left my building, this happened...

I encountered three Beautiful People, two men and one woman (expensive or genetically-gifted teeth, early 30s, clean, dressed well), hovering outside the door. As I swept past one of the men called out: "Do you mind if I tell you something?" I stopped and turned. He said, "You're so beautiful." They all nodded awe-fully in agreement. "I love your hair. It's the hair." "No, it's everything." "No, it's just something." "Someone should sculpt you." I thought, oh, fungus becomes me. Clearly they were in a good mood. Quite a good mood. Oh, and to be fair did I mention that they also said, "We're so drunk!" "Yes, we are!" "Oh, yes!"[laughter] And they were, despite it being only 11 a.m.  Just the same, I walked to the coffee shop with a smile on my face.

The lesson here? You'll probably get compliments if you head to the nearest hardcore bar no matter what you're wearing.

Seriously, this was a case of being reminded that invisible and visible are tricky things. Timing, weather, emotional place, a butterfly fluttering its wings in Thailand... Classic chaos theory.  Were there angels dancing beacon-like on my head or were the drunkards some kind of twisted angels themselves? Does it matter?

I still felt fungal at the coffee shop, and that's what I liked, cocooned in my journal-writing and comforted by the patter of rain outside.  

This one's for Patti over at Visible Monday, Not Dead Yet Style, my version of invisibly visible. Thanks for the party but please make sure I don't get too rooted in the garden. 

PS. A wee haircut, no recolouring but the platinum in the front is blending with my natural hair. It's magic to be sure.

Don't choke on my pith

I'm possessed by my granny shoes. But don't call the exorcist because I like it.

In action again below, in high def.

Dump trucks, grass, parkade signs, street lines, construction vests, insects, flowers, and rain - these are a few of My Favourite Things when I wear this lemon rind. The inner pith of linen, silk, and what-the-heck-is-that fabric would make you choke a smile. 

I'm an elusive creature these days, dodging out of frames and sidestepping stills. The motion picture works best at capturing my current emotional voice, although soon I suspect I'll be doing talkies too. 

Clothing

• neon yellow robe, retail sale
• linen jacket with big buttons from schmancy store (Moule), gift certificate, big sale
• vastly oversized teal silk blouse worn backwards, vintage, from friend's time-sealed treasure chest 
• sleeveless rust-coloured side-slitted dress, thrifted
• blue capri pants, same length as dress, with brown silk cuff, thrifted.
• patterned brown socks made in Italy, extravagant retail
• granny oxford shoes, thrifted
• granny bag from Singapore, gift for plant-sitting
• tool box handbag, from O
• magic loupe, from O

I've been asked about my video software. It's called VideoPad Video Editor (mine's for Windows) by the company NCH. It's easy to use - there is a tutorial - and it has many special features. I bought it after test-driving the free trial. This is not a paid endorsement (I wish!). I record the raw footage with my regular camera. 

Personally, I've needed this exploration to renew my process and stave off stagnation; what you see is my evolution from square one (thanks for your patience). I'm curious about where this will lead; I like not knowing.Would you ever consider making a little video clip for your blog? I've been very inspired by the clips and animated gifs I've seen on some of your blogs already.

The Man Robe, also in action

When I wear this outfit featuring The Man Robe I live in several states of dimension at once, this one and another one in 1920s Hollywood. "A physicist" has proven that there are seven dimensions - I'm still looking for the last three but I'm sure this robe will help me find them without the assistance of a slide rule or a huge brain.

My garments:

• The Man Robe, thrifted, worn many times
• new thrifted granny shoes in sensible brown with Louis-the-something heels, aka The Most Unflattering Shoes in the Universe (T-MUSU), they make me feel dreamy and tough
• bamboo tights, off white with a very slight pinkish tinge, retail sale, their perpetual ankle sag goes stunningly with the granny shoes - someone catch me as I swoon with delight at this vexatious combination
• silky dress with pink Asian flower motif, belt hung around neck as scarf, retail sale, first worn here (that's not even me in that photo anymore)
• magic loupe O made me
• tool box handbag from O's studio

With the crunching leaves under foot, the tool box in hand, sensible shoes, saggy tights, and The Man Robe, I thought I would poof into thin air. And it truly was thin air. The weather forecast today said "Mist." I find that odd. "Today's weather is Mist." "Watch out for Mist." What happened to fog and foggy? I suppose most people would rather frolic in mist than fog; mist certainly sounds more romantic. Then again, maybe the forecast simply depends on whether the meteorologist prefers Stephen King's The Mist or John Carpenter's The Fog (original,1980), both nightmares. And it doesn't really matter: I'm living in a daydream anyway, kinda foggy, kinda misty.

Again, you can see this outfit in action. I hope you watch - the music is great, which means I didn't make it, and it's royalty-free. I'm hooked on video.

And...
Sandra has posted a great video she made about Vancouver Art Gallery (Sept. 13). It really sums up how much our central art institution really cares about its work and artists; or maybe it's simply the result of clouded vision caused by the persistent fog (haze) generated by the pot advocates who hang around the gallery...

Ed. Update: I just researched the difference between fog and mist. Apparently, it's a matter of degrees of visibility. I still think it's about preference of horror movie.