Tuesday, March 30, 2010

dance, dance, dance; 'til you die
















so I don't think the nineties get enough credit. eighties too for that matter, i LOVE eighties fashion, shoulder pads are my jam. but back to the nineties....

nineties fashion was not all bad. heroin chic is nice in its own right but that's not what i'm speaking of. Ever seen the movie Party Monster? Remember the Oprah special about those kids doing a new drug called ecstasy (first time killed you.) Well the fashion that emerged from the club culture of the nineties is right up my alley--I love the excess. enjoy!

Friday, March 26, 2010

DISCLAIMER

This week I've been musing on several ideas for this blog. For one, I want it to be more like an interactive network type deal--like facebook--only just for close friends. In other words if you know me well enough to read this thing I'd probably give the password and everyone can write back and forth. Secondly, I figured I should explain what I don't want it to be. I wouldn't mind if strangers read it (which they don't) but the thought of it being read by acquaintances makes me somewhat uncomfortable. My best friend asked me why I started it, which got me thinking...I should post a disclaimer. Mostly, I want a way to communicate with friends outside of facebook, without clogging everyone's newsfeed with editorials; also I wanted a place to save all of the stuff I'm inspired by, along with my thoughts. It's not something I expect to be of interest or help to others, although that's cool as hell if it is.

SO. all of my close friends, I expect you to get involved, post comment etc etc fashion is my main interest but I also want to include other stuff like
--The stupid shit guys do and say: best lines ever dropped, and guys cockblocking themselves etc.
--Anything you stumple upon that is exciting and you wish to share
--music, concerts, ROAD TRIP IDEAS...
--good reads
--good stories

All kept anonymous of course, nothing too titillating. As you may know, my father, ever the laboring lawyer, just attended a seminar on litigation regarding social networking websites. Wave hello to the camera that is constantly recording your every move. Not a literal video camera, but you understand. freaks me out constantly. So pseudonyms, vague terms, and discretion are advised!

Caroline

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

But it's tacky to wear diamonds before you're forty...

I can't wait to be old so I can wear all of the fur and diamonds I want at any time without looking ridiculous.... plus imagine the collection we will have by then!


Monday, March 22, 2010

edie, my girl!

Edie Sedgwick is fascinating in that she is a picture of vivacity and vulnerability. She was both full of life and determined to waver between life and death. "Every boy at Harvard was trying to save Edie from herself." She appeals to the self-pity we all entertain at the death of our innocence; her life represents the results of the world battering naivety. To have lived the life she did and retain that vulnerability is what makes her relatable, in so much as she is something we all have lost, and are resentful in some ways of having lost her/it. She is a fascinating person to read about I recommend Edie: American Girl or Edie: Girl on Fire.

Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (first and last stanza)--Anne Sexton
No matter what life you lead
the virgin is a lovely number:
cheeks as fragile as cigarette paper,
arms and legs made of Limoges,
lips like Vin Du Rhône,
rolling her china-blue doll eyes
open and shut.
Open to say,
Good Day Mama,
and shut for the thrust
of the unicorn.
She is unsoiled.
She is as white as a bonefish.

And thus Snow White became the prince's bride.
The wicked queen was invited to the wedding feast
and when she arrived there were
red-hot iron shoes,
in the manner of red-hot roller skates,
clamped upon her feet.
First your toes will smoke
and then your heels will turn black
and you will fry upward like a frog,
she was told.
And so she danced until she was dead,
a subterranean figure,
her tongue flicking in and out
like a gas jet.
Meanwhile Snow White held court,
rolling her china-blue doll eyes open and shut
and sometimes referring to her mirror
as women do.






















"In some ways, I think Edie was ultimately at least to me, unknowable. One didn't see where her motivations sprang from. It was hard to know about what she might want to do, but she wanted to be amused, that was for sure. She liked having lots of things happening...she liked giggling a lot."

"Saints are always vulnerable, because they are sacrificial so I suppose there was that implicit in her, that she was sacrificial. She was so extremely magical that she was evanescent. She was there and not there at the same time."

Edie Sedgwick: And what would I have to do in one of your movies?
Andy Warhol: Just be yourself.
Edie Sedgwick: Well which one?

Edie Sedgwick: I went to a party once, and there was a palm reader
there and when she looked at my hand, she just froze. And I said to
her "I know. My lifeline is broken. I know I wont live past
thirty."

Andy Warhol: I wonder what theyll say about you... in your obituary.
I like that word.
Edie Sedgwick: Nothing nice, I dont think.
Andy Warhol: No no, come on. Theyd say, "Edith Minturn Sedgwick:
beautiful artist and actress...
Edie Sedgwick: ...and all around loon.
Andy Warhol: ...Remembered for setting the world on fire...
Edie Sedgwick: ...and escaping the clutches of her terrifying
family...
Andy Warhol: ...Made friends with eeeeverybody, and anybody...
Edie Sedgwick: ...creating chaos and uproar wherever she went.
Divorced as many times as she married, she leaves only good wishes
behind. [laughs] Thats nice, isnt it?

Caroline

An English bulldog named Wrinkles...



















just some inspiration... I remember wanting be described as eccentric as soon as I found out what the word meant. I always think of Holly Golightly in Truman Capote's novel Breakfast at Tiffany's. These are some fashion icons/freaks of nature/just cool pictures.

"Watching her, I remembered a girl I'd known in school, a grind, Mildred Grossman. Mildred: with her moist hair and greasy spectacles, her stained fingers that dissected frogs and carried coffee to picket lines, her flat eyes that only turned toward the stars to estimate their chemical tonnage. Earth and air could not be more opposite than Mildred and Holly, yet in my head they acquired a Siamese twinship, and the thread of thought that had sewn them together ran like this: the average personality reshapes frequently, every few years even our bodies undergo a complete overhaul -- desirable or not, it is a natural thing that we should change. All right, here were two people who never would. That is what Mildred Grossman had in common with Holly Golightly. They would never change because they'd been given their character too soon; which, like sudden riches, leads to a lack of proportion: the one had splurged herself into a top-heavy realist, the other a lopsided romantic. I imagined them in a restaurant of the future, Mildred still studying the menu for its nutritional values, Holly still gluttonous for everything on it. It would never be different. They would walk through life and out of it with the same determined step that took small notice of those cliffs at the left. " (Capote)


The instant she saw the letter she squinted her eyes and bent her lips in a tough tiny smile that advanced her age immeasurably. "Darling," she instructed me, "would you reach in the drawer there and give me my purse. A girl doesn't read this sort of thing without her lipstick."Guided by a compact mirror, she powdered, painted every vestige of twelve-year-old out of her face. She shaped her lips with one tube, colored her cheeks from another. She penciled the rims of her eyes, blued the lids, sprinkled her neck with 4711; attached pearls to her ears and donned her dark glasses; thus armored, and after a displeased appraisal of her manicure's shabby condition, she ripped open the letter and let her eyes race through it while her stony small smile grew smaller and harder. Eventually she asked for a Picayune. Took a puff: "Tastes bum. But divine," she said and, tossing me the letter: "Maybe this will come in handy -- if you ever write a rat-romance. Don't be hoggy: read it aloud. I'd like to hear it myself." (Capote)

Caroline









shoulder pads make me tingly...

hand painted "santa fe" shoulder bag from the 1980s

balenciaga vintage zip up pants







all of these pictures from shopnastygal.com



just a few items I'm lusting after; this beaded vest http://www.tias.com/image.html?s=http://www.tias.com/stores/decades/origpics/1290a.jpg&p=129.00&t=ELEGANT%20VINTAGE%20BEADED%20BLOUSE&n=DECADES&l=http://www.tias.com/568/PictPage/1922783524.html&z=225

also i found the perfect turban EVER. Baba would approve I think http://www.tias.com/568/PictPage/1922726114.html
Caroline