Jonny and Cairo on Pins and Needles

It's good to back in LA. With all the things: the dirt, the sunshine, awwwl dees skinny bitches, the hobos, the health nuts, the bullshit, the terrifying feeling we'll never make it coupled with the opportunity to make it big.......and hipsters. 

Jonny had his first art show in LA with his pal, Cairo, a few nights after we arrived. It was all the way in North Hollywood...which looks a lot like Hollywood, but newer and more northy. Because of it's northy-ness living costs are lower than LA proper making it particularly more young and hipster-y (particularly in the arts district). 

The show was a success! Jonny sold two pieces, but the gallery was literally PACKED with 90's vintage-clad 20-somethings. Not just a ditsy floral dress here or neon there, but FULL ON Clarissa Explains it All EVERYWHERE. Gals taking selfies, punks present solely for the free PBR. I was pumped at the huge turn out, but as the music got louder the crowd thickened and so did the warm, beer-breathy air. The room began to close in. 

  

I felt old. 

Why did I wear heels to an art show like a dick? 

This music's reeeal loud, y'all. 

It's 11pm.

I stepped outside. 

As I peered back through the gallery window at the impending hipster dance party, it made me happy and thankful and sad and nervous. I remembered when I was that age, and I was that pumped to be out and about watching my friends play music and do art. I was thankful they were all there with all of the fires in all their bellies. Then I remembered I'm almost 30. Then I was like, "those kids better not fuck up my husband's art". Official geezer. 

But I'm good with it. With age comes taste refined, truer friendships, a clearer understanding of the things that stay, better sex, and an appreciation for one's self and style.

TO 30 IMPENDING!

Epiphanies in the Ladies Room

A few nights ago Jonathan and I decided to be cultured and ventured to Venice to see a one man show or  "Pub Play" at The Del Monte Speakeasy (conveniently for this story, the Del Monte is situated beneath the oldest bar in Los Angeles). It was cold and rainy that night, which is a rarity in SoCal, so the dimly lit underground bar swallowed us right up. We sipped our Old Fashions in the windowless room under a low wood ceiling, red lights glowing through fringed lamp shades, mustachioed bartenders chipping ice. The performance (Connor McPherson's St. Nicholas) was amazing...brought me to tears, but that's not the point of the story. The point of the story is the epiphany I had in the pisser.

I made my way to the ladies room at intermission. I pushed open the heavy wooden door expecting white or yellowish walls, bluish buzzing lights, maybe a glop of pinkish soap on the sink..ya know, the usual. Instead I was welcomed by deep orange wallpaper with gardenias outlined in gold. The light was dim, the mirror designated for women to touch themselves up (separate from the sink) floated above a dark, old wooden ledge. A plump velvet chair sat firmly on the floor covered in patterned tiles, petite square and octagonal, clearly still there from some better time. I was shocked at how comfortable I felt in a room meant mainly for defecating and gossiping.

It was then I gazed over to the stalls, one on either side of the entrance, and I saw a small vintage chandelier over each one. Basically I was going to feel like Elizabeth mofackin' Taylor while I took a pee pee. I had to laugh. "This is why I love vintage" I thought. Vintage begets a time when functional items were thoughtful, well-made and stylish. Seams were more tightly sewn, kitchen appliances were pearly blues and pinks, make-up compacts were decorated metal to be refilled, and bathrooms were stylish.

These days we are inundated with gobs of ugly plastic bullshit (to put it eloquently). What is now a "Made in China" fill-in-the-blank piece of plastic that is meant to be used (maybe twice), then lost or thrown out and repurchased was once made of metal or glass or wood and was beautiful and meant to last, so you wouldn't have to buy a new one.

"If I'm going to have toaster, it's going to be lovely to look at"
"If I'm going to buy a light under which I pee, it's going to be a chandelier"

Besides the booze, I think this is why Speakeasys are so popular right now. People want to remember a better time. With our everyday lives filled with plastic and convenience, folks are yearning to experience something thoughtful and well crafted. They don't care if it takes a bit longer. When I think of our future sons and daughters going to vintage pile sales only to pull out Forever 21 dresses and shirts it makes me cringe, which compels me to urge you to buy things that are well made. Or vintage.

And that sirs and ladies is my Thursday rant.

Coat: Vintage (Similar)

Belt: Vintage

Pants: Vintage Guess (Similar)

Boots: Rocket Dog (old, but here's something similar)

Hat: Gift

Hustlin'

I'm back, and with me my totally natural poses I know you missed so much. Sorry I've been so off the radar. I miss you, I do. It's just that life lately can best be described using the genius lyrical stylings of Rick Ross: E'ry day I'm hustlin'. 

Since the move Jonathan and I have found ourselves pretty damn happy. Ready to bite off more than we can chew. Prepared for what the universe has in store for us. We gotta make dat money tho, so I've been SUPER preoccupied pouring myself into practices that allow me to bring home the bacon. Obsessing over my photography website, creating a pet photography website, making facebook pages for said services, shooting my face off, printing business cards, basically being a fucking business woman, don't make a big deal about it. Check it out the site here if you'd like! 

I've also had some luck selling vintage goodies on our Etsy store. This, I've found, at least pays for our thrifting addiction. 

I'm finding myself drawn towards feminine pieces lately. Without fail I come home from a thrift store or a pile sale, and I take out my goodies only to realize I've purchased 8 floral dresses. Like the one I'm wearing here. I think somehow watching Fried Green Tomatoes as a young girl permanently affected my taste in clothing. It also affected my feelings towards Kathy Bates. Which are positive ones. 

TOWANDA!!!

Dress: For Sale Photogramps Vintage

Sweater: 90s Anne Taylor (similar)

Shoes: Vintage Cole Haan

Side Boob: Taking a Closer Look.

I am happy about the increase in ginormous armholes in fashion lately. When it comes to revealing clothing, honestly I have never been comfortable in short shorts or push-up bras and low cut shirts. Ribcage? That I can do. 

Jonathan recently informed me of my apparent decreasing modesty over the past 2 years. I was both shocked and enthralled when he said this. I had no idea I was showing more skin lately. I have always considered myself a somewhat modest dresser. Never too much cleavage, never too much booty. He then clarified, 

"You've been showing less of this" 

(motioning to the midriff area)

"and more of this" 

(motioning to rib and side boob area)

I then informed him that low-rise jeans and hip bones are out, (thank God, cuz that's where I store my Thankgivings/mid-night snacks/grilled cheeses/fupa) and side boob is in (or out if we're speaking literally). 

It was fascinating to me though that ribs could be considered more riske than hip bones by anyone. They seem equally sexy in my mind, depending on what floats your boat. In further discussion I discovered what's more titalizing about revealed ribs is the fabric beneath our blouse's gaping arm holes: the lacy bra-lettes we dole out 17 bucks for at Urban Outfitters. I should clarify that I don't ever rock this look without a full bralette. I'm not total trash, you guys (sarcasm). 

"I can see your underwear (period)" he said blankly. 

As opposed to seeing straight-up skin on hipbones (and the occasional ass crack)? 

So, this brings to rise the age old question. Is less more? Is the idea of what's underneath more exciting than actually just seeing bare flesh? I don't necessarily think so, but I think the question is interesting enough to pontificate for a moment. 

Shall we? 

Jammin' the Boy Scouts of America pants with the side boob here. Somehow that's funny to me. 

undefined

Fuchia and Green

I know the saying is "a pop of color"... as in one singular color, but I find myself emphatically drawn to overdoing most everything in my life (except for cleaning my house and jogging). So here I am popping 2 colors. In retrospect I can see how just black with fuchia may have been a more streamlined or chic choice, but I wouldn't change a thing about his outfit. 

In my years of overdoing it, particularly in the sartorial category, I feel I have found the balance of overdoing things without overdoing them if that makes sense. (Keep in mind I may be completely delusional). The goals when I get dressed are to feel good in what I'm wearing/stand out a bit in a crowd/find a little bit of hilarity in some aspect of my outfit. (The humor in this look is obviously the black-man-church-going-shoes I found in the men's section of the thrift store. I imagine them once being worn with a full green suit and matching tie one fanciful, soulful Sunday).

After multiple attempts to be more chic or elegant over the years, I've given up and found comfort in this aspect of my style. I understand this isn't the craziest, far out look I've ever rocked, but the simple rule breaking this outfit displays (2 pops of color as opposed to 1) is a unabashedly me. And there's not a damn thing I can do about it. 

Entire outfit thrifted.

Reorganizing Collections

The good news is the reasons for my lack of posts of late are not of the "lazy" or "burnt out" variety.

Since the move we have been reassessing our lives. Preparing for what's next. Organizing everything so we can be ready for the new chapter. For whatever reason Jonathan and I both feel like something big is on the horizon. Neither of us have any clue what it is, so all we can do is make ourselves ready mentally, physically and spiritually.

I have a multitude of interests. The photography, the styling, the vintage clothes, the writing of this here blog, so I figure I should reorganize it too. Rebrand. I have a vision to make it bigger ... to get more amazing ladies I know to contribute, to feature more topics interesting and empowering to women like me. So, beyond being busy preparing for whatever lays before us I'm organizing ideas to give this little spot on the www a big fat make-over. Until then I'll still do posts, but I hope you'll bare with me in the lack of frequency.

While preparing what was supposed to be a "here's our new place" post I realized all the images were of collections. Records, art, photographs, vintage. Collections we've painstakingly purged and reshaped (too bad you weren't there for THAT vinyl liquidation) for best use and display in our new place, which we love.

It only took a moment for me to see the metaphor.

Most Popular

When I busted out these platform Superga sneakers for the first time, my friend Rynn said she hated them. They reminded her of the shoes popular girls wore in middle school. Then I thought about it...well I'll be damned if these aren't basically the same shoes Hayley Duff wore when she portrayed black top bully, Summer Wheatley in Napolean Dynamite! (The wardrobe styling in that movie is amazing and incredibly on point). Although the whole "popular girl shoes" thing is a hilarious perk, it's not the reason I purchased them...which is more along the lines of a $14 impulse buy at Ross Dress for Less. 

Rynn's comment did get me thinking about the fashion fads of popular girls in middle school though. I remember arm cuffs having a moment. Adidas shell toes and those hideously thick Doc Martin sandals were definitely a thing. All things GAP and chokers too. Also, for some reason hoards of them would  dress as babies for halloween (was that just at my school?)...pajamas, giant bottles, pacifiers, and somehow body glitter slipped into the whole equation...?

I always thought if you're going to wear pajamas for Halloween whhhhy the F would you go as ANYTHING besides T.L.C. a la the Creep video? (I've got dibs on Left Eye).

I cannot complete this post without mentioning the Dolly Parton belt. It's bold, but I wear it with pride...particularly in LA. No shame. Next to a few diamond rings, it's pretty much the best thing my grandmother (may she rest in peace) ever gave to me. Nana was into glamourous/gaudy accessories.

Jeans: Urban Outfitters (Similar), Belt: Gifted, Shoes: Superga, Bracelet: Thrifted 

Shirt: Thrifted, Sunglasses: Similar

Links I Love

1. Stirring and beautiful ... check out the colorized versions of famous black and white photos.
2. The idea of the century: The Period Store! Your one stop shop for that time of the month.
3. Loving these photos of vintage dorm rooms from the ModCloth blog. So charming.
4. My mama is an interior designer, and I have always LOVED interior design photography. These are dream-worthy photos from Anthology Magazine. 
5. Love Garden and Gun Magazine. Need to try the Texas Micheleda recipe before summers through! Any excuse to drink a beer, right?

Au Revior, Pee Wee: The Versatility of the Silk Scarf

Silk scarves. The never-ending abyss into which many-a-vintage lover can so easily fall. Typically no more than 3 dollars (if you're shopping at the right places), it's easy to find yourself with a drawer full. But who's complaining? They can transform looks with one tie of a knot, and boy are they versatile!

Perfect for pony tails.
A pop of color tied on your handbag.
As a pocket square in a blazer.
Tied around your neck with a collared shirt for the classic prep look.
As a blindfold for, uh.....whatever you see fit.
To complete a Rosie the Riveter look.
Around your head for a gypsy vibe.
To wave goodbye out the window of a train, "Au revoir, Pee Wee!"

Really, the list goes on.

Are you a scarf junkie? Any more tips on how to put them to good use?

Silk Scarf: Vintage (Similar)

Shoes: Sam Edelman (Here they are in RED! Love it)

Cut Offs: Vintage Calvin Klein (Similar)

Shirt: Thrifted Vintage

undefined