A Two Sided Story:
There is something undescribably refreshing and electric about androgyny being used in fashion. For me, it can go two ways; (pun intended) androgyny portrays this somewhat child like and innocent imagary for me (perhaps because we all pretty much looked the same when we were children?) and in another way, it is one of the most glamourous and undoubtably fierce trends to come into existence.
Featured here is Bosnian model, Andrej Pejic. Just 19, he has already modeled for men's and women's Jean-Paul Gaultier and walked for Marc Jacob's men's.
He is beautiful beyond words.
It's not like it hasn't been around for long. These are some of our favorites, of course.
Jeffree Star makes me want to do stupid and fun things like glue diamonds all over myself and eat a tube of Strawberry Daiquiri flavored lip gloss. While wearing glittery pink stillettos. I guess I could just stare at pictures of his hair for hours.
Be happy and be you, or you're nobody.
Defintitely more to come on this,
"Don't Be A Drag; Just Be A Queen."-Lady Gaga
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
These are the shocking and wonderous things that are currently running through my head like a streaker wearing a glittery unicorn head. These are the things that melt around and grow minds of their own in my imagination and enable me to say im truely an insomniac.
I don't just want a punk jacket, I need several.
Duh, of course I want one of these lucious things (I mean the jacket too, not just the sexy french:))
I basically just want to put rifle cartridges all over everything. I'm currently designing a pair of stillettos that should start to pacify my need for such things.
Good memories and of course, J-j-Jeffree Star bee-otch.
Can I just have her hair? Please? And is her hair dresser included in that deal?
I know I couldn't wear these as well as Jeffree Star does but, a girl can at least dream for legs like his.
Please, grow just a little longer, hair as in a 1 foot and a half longer.
I could read this book a million times and it still inspires me immensly. I always find something different when I read it as if the story changes. It's the most honest piece of literature i've ever come across.
Please cure me of this ridiculous obsession with crowns by just giving me more.
Um, is this not self explanatory? I would gladly trade my soul for these soles that look like something i've been dreaming of but never quite found since I was 5 and wearing my clear rainbow heart raincoat.
Most of this post was inspired by the super-diva Jeffree Star, thank him. What a babe.
More to come,
-Olive "You are who you wear; it's true, a girl's just as hot as the shoes she chooses"-Lady GaGa
Sunday, March 20, 2011
I'll start with excuses for not posting. I wont lie and say I had something better to do two weeks ago, I was just plain too lazy to stop eating my Kinder chocolate and post something wonderous and I didn't post last week because I was in Barcelona with my school, busy getting rained on (you all needn't worry about a global drought, I have proof now that Spain has all the water we will ever need) until the last day when the sun came out and it was 60 degrees. Enough complaining. Despite the rain, the hotel that served the coackroaches better than the cutomers, and traveling with 70 other smelly, loud, teenagers (notice that I include myself in this) I spent my days in a city drenched in "The Liberty Style" or "Art Nouveau", with it's (the only suitable word) colorful inhabitants that never EVER sleep, (travel to Barcelona and you'll find New York has lost it's title) and eating. Oh how I ate.
Am I the last soul on this earth to know that Barcelona is one of the most magical places in existence? I'll tell you all right now, I can't decide wether or not I want to live at the Salvador Dali Museum, his house, or the Gaudi house. I'll bulldoze all tourists out and live there for the rest of my life with my guinea pig farm, sewing machine, and have paper crown tea parties.
Dali, to begin with, is a pure genious and one to be admired for living the way I always want to. The most marvelous thing about him is that despite the inevitable negative critisim for the way he was and his work, he kept doing it. He kept pouring out every idea, every notion and every trippy day dream into a "reality" therefor created thousands of pieces for us to admire and utterly adore. To me, he lived the way I strive to everyday. In other words, from what I gathered from his work, he lived seemingly without fear of others and or of himself.
Here are a few pictures of so many I took:
This one is pure genious. If you stand far away, the painting is Abe Lincoln's face, but if you walk up close you can see a woman in the midst of blur. ....?:)
Anyways, this is just a taste of the enormous muesem that he helped design himself. (How incredibly cool is that? As the Italians would say, "è un grande)
The museum was like a menagerie of his inspriations or a theatrical production based off his dreams, whereas, his house was his home. You could just feel that he lived where he wanted, he made his house his sanctuary. He made life according to him. One of my favorite examples of this is the easel he made for himself.
He cut a slit in the floor under the easel so that he could move the frame up and down to his liking since he never painted standing up. Don't like painting standing up? Make yourself a custom easel! Why should you have to suffer while creating a masterpiece?? Thats what i'd like to know.
The backyard decked out in Michelin Men was even more mind blowing:
As if the art in Barcelona wasn't enough to sit and stare and drool at for hours on end, the street fashion scene is quite up to par. At times I felt like I was in the middle of a runway when we were really in a museum trying to give the artist a bit of respect yet my eyes kept wandering over to shoes, jewlery, dresses, more shoes, tights, purses and more shoes. I even apologized under my breath a few times to the artist that we were currently admiring as if I were caught looking at a Vogue in the middle of church. (it's even easier to get distracted if the muesuem you're at is a boring as church can be.)
I mangaged to capture a few examples of what i'm talking about in these pictures. That is, after I throughly pestered and terrorized innocent pedestrians and museum goers by first, asking if they speak English and second, asking if I can take their picture and having to explain to their horrified faces, why. Hey, now you are all celebrities on my blog:)
Note: My camera sucks at it's job so use a bit of your imagination as well. A Canon Reel was put on my Christmas list but it wasn't under the tree so blame the fat man with a beard for the crappy shots.
These lovelies are from Japan and were kind enough to let me take their photo. When I said I liked their style they said waving their hands, "Oh it's Japan style" like...that's a bad thing? Afterwards they thanked me but I don't know why because they were the ones doing me the favor.
This one was taken in the market on an obviously rainy day. Thanks to one of my classmates for translating from my broken Italian to her perfect Spanish that I forgot.
I of course admire her for being a fellow lover of the raincoat (don't be afraid of the raincoat, it does you good) and this reminded me of the one I had when I was little that I wish I had now in my size. It was a mid thigh, clear white, raincoat with pastel colored hearts. Don't be afraid of the description. Words hardly do it justice.
This next one was taken in a house of Gaudi. Thank you to a lovely English girl who travels in style.
The last one is from another Spanish girl whos style was a good representation of the truely unique and colorful (theres that word again) style you find in Spain. She also represented something I believe to be the most important part of carrying a fashion which giving life and style to the garment instead of just being a mannequin with cloth draped about you.
Keep eating twinkies and butter,