Blazer: Vintage, eBay, $10
Belt: Vintage, Salvos, $3
Necklace: Handmade somewhere, eBay ages ago, $5
Shorts: Vintage, Joanne's New & Used Clothing, $5 (with top as set)
Wedges: Shoebox, My formal shoes LOL $40
Granny Shorts
Blazer: Vintage, eBay, $10
Belt: Vintage, Salvos, $3
Necklace: Handmade somewhere, eBay ages ago, $5
Shorts: Vintage, Joanne's New & Used Clothing, $5 (with top as set)
Wedges: Shoebox, My formal shoes LOL $40
Lectures and Karaoke
It seemed like half of the teenage population of Sydney gathered at UTS/USYD to absorb information about the options they have for the future. If not for that reason, at least for some free sandwiches and pencils. I walked away no less wiser about my future than before. I still have no real direction, just the vague idea of going towards something that doesn't involve: blood, a building hardhat, numbers, a toilet, blood or no fun.
The only lectures I stumbled into were Fashion Design & Textiles and Fashion Illustration, WHICH WAS FUCKING INTENSE. I thought it'd be a traditional sit-and-listen kind of thing, and we walk into the room and this techno music with a loud-ass beat starts playing and this flamboyant looking man comes walking into the room holding the hand of an extremely tall Asian model wearing Afghan curtains or something. He then proceeds to help her up on a samall circular podium in the mdidle of the room, instructs her to pose and she stays like that, stationary. This all happens while a bunch of arty-looking illustration students (all with their hair in buns and looking in some way or another hipster-ish) surround her in a circle and start drawing furiously to the beat of the music. No introduction, no explanation, just intense techno music and paint palettes.
The rest of the day was a complete blur, but I know it involved around 4 different groups of friends and 7 different locations at different times, including snooker, karaoke, eating ice cream at darling harbour, Macdonald's and KFC (a fair few fucking times).
The only lectures I stumbled into were Fashion Design & Textiles and Fashion Illustration, WHICH WAS FUCKING INTENSE. I thought it'd be a traditional sit-and-listen kind of thing, and we walk into the room and this techno music with a loud-ass beat starts playing and this flamboyant looking man comes walking into the room holding the hand of an extremely tall Asian model wearing Afghan curtains or something. He then proceeds to help her up on a samall circular podium in the mdidle of the room, instructs her to pose and she stays like that, stationary. This all happens while a bunch of arty-looking illustration students (all with their hair in buns and looking in some way or another hipster-ish) surround her in a circle and start drawing furiously to the beat of the music. No introduction, no explanation, just intense techno music and paint palettes.
Pretending to hail a taxi.
The rest of the day was a complete blur, but I know it involved around 4 different groups of friends and 7 different locations at different times, including snooker, karaoke, eating ice cream at darling harbour, Macdonald's and KFC (a fair few fucking times).
The Swinging Sixties
I've always wondered what my life would be like if I was born in a different era, if I perhaps, belong in a different era. It's one of the inevitable things you think about - along with the effects of your death to those around you and what it would feel like if you stuck your head in a fan (or maybe its just me). If I had to choose a decade to call my own, it'd be the sixties, no competition. Well the 60s or the 80s, they'd each have to choose a representative and duke it out in a hoedown in some abandoned shed for my loyalty. But the 60s would probably pull out a love gun set on "stun" and blow the 80s right out of the shed with peace lasers.
1. The rise of feminism.
2. The whole free love thing.
3. THE MUSIC, THE MUSIC, THE MUSIC. THE BEATLES, IS IT NECESSARY FOR ME TO SAY MORE? But I will say more, for your benefit, oh uneducated urchins. The Supremes, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, The Who, The Rolling Stones, The Mamas and the Papas, The Beach Boys, The Velvet Underground, The Seekers. The people who lived in this era were blessed with good music on the radio, unlike the trash on ours with constant references to dicks and chicks and chicks with dicks.
4. I just conclude that the 60s seemed like a beautiful time to be alive in.
I watched The Boat That Rocked recently, which just reinforced my intense love for this decade. This movie was impossible to not be good from the outset. BILL NIGHY? RHYS DARBY? PHILLIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN? Please. The only possible way that that cast could be improved if we banded together the Beatles, Zooey Deschanel and Obama and gave them cameos. The music was beautiful, the funny bits were funny, the whole message behind it was exquisite, the music was beautiful, the characters were endearing. Run, don't walk to your nearest Blockbusters and hit that shit up on your DVD player. Now.
One movie that didn't strike up a passionate love affair with me was Blindness. I had the highest expectations for this movie. I had EVERY HOPE THAT I COULD MUSTER IN MY 45KG ASIAN BODY directed towards this movie. And it disappointed me like nothing else, like a son disappointing his father by missing the ball completely in a softball game and knocking the referee out.
The book that I fell in love with, by the same name, is written by Jose Saramago, who is a genius. Blindness is about an epidemic of "white blindness", where the black void that a blind person usually experiences is instead replaced with one of neverending whiteness - constantly referred to in the book as a milky sea. It starts off with a doctor's wife following her husband into quarantine, even though she isn't blind, somehow immune. Rules are soon abandoned and anarchy ensues in the quarantine, with thugs and rape commonplace. When one day, they venture out to ask the guards something, and find nobody there, they wander out into the ravaged world to find that the whole world is blind, with only one person to see it.
I think losing my sight is one of my worst fears. It is far more terrifying than any other loss of the senses, especially so for me as photography is basically the only thing I'm passionate about, and what good is a photographer without their sight? Anyway, the movie was terrible and didn't live up to the standard the book set.
OH PS, FOR THE TWO COMMENTORS WHO ASKED FOR SHOPPING RECOMMENDATIONS IN SYDNEY:
Generally
I'm not really cluey about the whole retail shopping thing - but I guess QVB in the city, Parramatta Westfields, all the major shopping centres. Miranda Westfields is huge, if you're into that type of thing, and I guess if you're into a tourist kind of experience - hit up all the markets - Paddy's markets, Bondi markets, Glebe markets etc.
Salvos/second hand shops/charity stores
Through experience, I've found that Salvos has ruder shop assistants (probably a rash generalisation), and way, way steeper prices. The Smith Family Shop is good, and so is Vinnies. Haven't been to a Savers or Lifeline (i think?) yet, but will blog about them when I do. Fairfield has a large concentration of charity stores/second hand shops, and Bankstown as well. The more expensive "vintage" clothing can be found in Paddington and Newtown in the boutiques that source the clothinng for you. Marrickville and Burwood seem to be good hunting grounds. The non-charity second hand clothing stores seem to have a higher concentration of quality clothes but they're far and few between.
1. The rise of feminism.
2. The whole free love thing.
3. THE MUSIC, THE MUSIC, THE MUSIC. THE BEATLES, IS IT NECESSARY FOR ME TO SAY MORE? But I will say more, for your benefit, oh uneducated urchins. The Supremes, Bob Dylan, Bob Marley, The Who, The Rolling Stones, The Mamas and the Papas, The Beach Boys, The Velvet Underground, The Seekers. The people who lived in this era were blessed with good music on the radio, unlike the trash on ours with constant references to dicks and chicks and chicks with dicks.
4. I just conclude that the 60s seemed like a beautiful time to be alive in.
I watched The Boat That Rocked recently, which just reinforced my intense love for this decade. This movie was impossible to not be good from the outset. BILL NIGHY? RHYS DARBY? PHILLIP SEYMOUR HOFFMAN? Please. The only possible way that that cast could be improved if we banded together the Beatles, Zooey Deschanel and Obama and gave them cameos. The music was beautiful, the funny bits were funny, the whole message behind it was exquisite, the music was beautiful, the characters were endearing. Run, don't walk to your nearest Blockbusters and hit that shit up on your DVD player. Now.
One movie that didn't strike up a passionate love affair with me was Blindness. I had the highest expectations for this movie. I had EVERY HOPE THAT I COULD MUSTER IN MY 45KG ASIAN BODY directed towards this movie. And it disappointed me like nothing else, like a son disappointing his father by missing the ball completely in a softball game and knocking the referee out.
The book that I fell in love with, by the same name, is written by Jose Saramago, who is a genius. Blindness is about an epidemic of "white blindness", where the black void that a blind person usually experiences is instead replaced with one of neverending whiteness - constantly referred to in the book as a milky sea. It starts off with a doctor's wife following her husband into quarantine, even though she isn't blind, somehow immune. Rules are soon abandoned and anarchy ensues in the quarantine, with thugs and rape commonplace. When one day, they venture out to ask the guards something, and find nobody there, they wander out into the ravaged world to find that the whole world is blind, with only one person to see it.
I think losing my sight is one of my worst fears. It is far more terrifying than any other loss of the senses, especially so for me as photography is basically the only thing I'm passionate about, and what good is a photographer without their sight? Anyway, the movie was terrible and didn't live up to the standard the book set.
OH PS, FOR THE TWO COMMENTORS WHO ASKED FOR SHOPPING RECOMMENDATIONS IN SYDNEY:
Generally
I'm not really cluey about the whole retail shopping thing - but I guess QVB in the city, Parramatta Westfields, all the major shopping centres. Miranda Westfields is huge, if you're into that type of thing, and I guess if you're into a tourist kind of experience - hit up all the markets - Paddy's markets, Bondi markets, Glebe markets etc.
Salvos/second hand shops/charity stores
Through experience, I've found that Salvos has ruder shop assistants (probably a rash generalisation), and way, way steeper prices. The Smith Family Shop is good, and so is Vinnies. Haven't been to a Savers or Lifeline (i think?) yet, but will blog about them when I do. Fairfield has a large concentration of charity stores/second hand shops, and Bankstown as well. The more expensive "vintage" clothing can be found in Paddington and Newtown in the boutiques that source the clothinng for you. Marrickville and Burwood seem to be good hunting grounds. The non-charity second hand clothing stores seem to have a higher concentration of quality clothes but they're far and few between.
mysterious letters
Michael + Lenka plan to write letters to the whole world. This is seriously the cutest, sweetest, coolest most rad thing I've heard about in a long while.
From the depths of my closet
Generally, the pieces of clothing that live in the dark, damp corners of my wardrobe get evicted and consequently now live in the dumpster, but there are some things that do creep about the unexplored areas of my closet that I can't bear to throw out. This may be because I've established a connection with the tenant over coffee and instant noodles, or maybe they're distant, distant relatives that I can't bring myself to throw out onto the street, or maybe its a past lover who's flame, although dwindling, still remains. Whichever reason it is, those pieces of clothing never do get to stroke my body with the tenderness of a lover, but they remain in my heart nevertheless. Sort of like a mistress who has a STI, so I don't allow them to have sex with me. Today, instead of doing anything productive, I took those items out for a spin and they ended up going together really well.
Much loved clothes (left, pjamas), Much-neglected clothes (right).
Vintage strapless lace bodycon dress (eBay, $20), Vintage cardigan ($4), Vintage bag ($4), Miss Shop socks ($2, I only got them 'cause they were on sale).
Close up of cardigan
Close up of bag
So, you know, I thought the best way to display this celebration of the re-unification of these clothes and my body, this outfit of misfits, was to, you know, pose in my dad's closet, in an awkward manner. But you have no idea how much effort I had to go to for these pictures. Behold:
A stepladder and 500 phonebooks and textbooks to mount the camera on. This is what not having a tripod drives me to do. And the constant running to-and-fro from the camera (self-timer) caused three very fatigued girls.
I have no idea why she was tired, she wasn't even doing anything. She probably tired herself out just watching me
And my recent purchases, (I use that in a very loose sense of the term 'recent', try in the past 5 weeks or something):
Thrifted black boy's blazer ($10)
Thrifted white boys blazer ($5), its so tiny that both my sisters AND myself can fit it. Well, I can sort of fit into it, if I suck everything in and don't move much while wearing it.
Some random brand singlet dress ($10)
Secondhand matching set..thing...? Cropped tie-up floral top and super high-waisted shorts. ($4)
Secondhand pretty blouse thing ($4)
Second hand cream brocade blazer ($8)
And books:
The third one from the top is the most adorable book. It's some sort of hugging advanced-technique manual from the 80s. I am now qualified to give 15 different types of hugs, and I am educated in when, why and to whom I should give hugs, watch out bitches.
Vintage strapless lace bodycon dress (eBay, $20), Vintage cardigan ($4), Vintage bag ($4), Miss Shop socks ($2, I only got them 'cause they were on sale).
So, you know, I thought the best way to display this celebration of the re-unification of these clothes and my body, this outfit of misfits, was to, you know, pose in my dad's closet, in an awkward manner. But you have no idea how much effort I had to go to for these pictures. Behold:
A stepladder and 500 phonebooks and textbooks to mount the camera on. This is what not having a tripod drives me to do. And the constant running to-and-fro from the camera (self-timer) caused three very fatigued girls.
And my recent purchases, (I use that in a very loose sense of the term 'recent', try in the past 5 weeks or something):
Some random brand singlet dress ($10)
Secondhand pretty blouse thing ($4)
And books:
The third one from the top is the most adorable book. It's some sort of hugging advanced-technique manual from the 80s. I am now qualified to give 15 different types of hugs, and I am educated in when, why and to whom I should give hugs, watch out bitches.
santa, are you listening?
Doesn't need to be Santa, an old wealthy elderly man will do.
From top to bottom:
Studded bag: Novella Royale, Castle ring: StevenShein on Etsy, Studded pouch: nonamenothings on Etsy, Leggings: Black Milk Clothing, Black PVC ruffle dress: Chiccane.com.
From top to bottom:
Studded bag: Novella Royale, Castle ring: StevenShein on Etsy, Studded pouch: nonamenothings on Etsy, Leggings: Black Milk Clothing, Black PVC ruffle dress: Chiccane.com.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
