Dispatches from a second story bedroom

messed around with gender roles

"Hey I like your shirt, does it come in Mens?"

where I'm at

"If I wanted something your thumb touched, I'd eat the inside of your ear."

Right now, all I have energy for is waiting to see how Céline will diffuse into Zara separates. Seriously. 

your generation sucks

I had a really great conversation last night about the 90s and Prada and schizophrenic boutique buyers versus medicated megastore buyers and it all interrelated and was great and I came to a few conclusions.

1. There are a lot of girls out there in skinny jeans, bitch shoes, and sloppy tops and they are running boutiques. There's enough out there for that many-headed cliche to bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, so I shouldn't worry about my various aspirations and why they will not work. America is a horn o' plenty and I need to take a bite. 
2. I totally get Prada S/S 2011 now, thanks Missy. This needs to happen again, its time is due. Why isn't Da Brat's blackberry lip making a comeback as well as Missy's aubergine lipliner. So essential. I like that small sliver of the 90s when lady rappers were transitioning from MC Lyteism into whatever real doll rapper is popular now. Nicki Minajism? They all look like sex toys, so whatever. I know chickenheaded hoes existed back then, but they weren't so yielding to a generic male fantasy. Foxy Brown was sassy and had a slight muffin top. Awesome. And also, the dance moves. I can't stop watching those super louche robot leans. "REMEMBER THE TIME" - MJ                                                                                                      
     
3. My aspirational 90s and the current aspirational 90s look are two completely different things. I stopped reading teen magazines in 1992 and subscribed to Bazaar just as Liz Tilberis came on as E-i-C. What was available to me for purchase back then wasn't dreamy, it was a lot of affordable thrift and pilfered from my parents college wardrobes. I didn't even dream of owning real Miu Miu, but a resonable vintage facsimile of the new facsimile of the original vintage. I developed the sense to recognize that fashion is the biggest Ouroboros through the reading and studying of fashion magazines, and tapped the trend at the source without the internet telling me how to do it in three easy steps.  And while that democratization is great, it sidesteps the old gatekeepers, so you have to deal with a lot of shitty micro-trends like pantlessness and shredded t-shirts. And then the olds get worried about not remaining on top of fashion and Carine and AdR are running around, panties on parade, even though they're 50ish and dancing as fast as they can. It's heartbreaking to witness. I'm sure Gavin would tell me to shut up and stop being old about it, but it's there and transitory and gets a platform before it even knows what to do with itself. Everyone is a cultural ambassador for a brand nowadays and it makes everything less special. Also young rich girls dressing up in expensive clothes is such an epic snooze to me. I am staking my claim in old Vreelandia, thank you. Vive la jolie laide.

mental freezedom

Goodbye summer, I'll hardly miss you.

all of the guilt, none of the fat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

End scene.  FUCK YOU ROGER DEAKINS.

pink pussy lips

   

Oh so now I gotta be the asshole that says what everyone is thinking?

pull out your party piece

 

 

US Vogue June 2010

 

US Vogue July 2010

 

I just got a wicked case of whiplash.

hi-ho silvers

MUSTACHE RIDES 5¢

Brilliant

 Vogue October 1945.