paper doll

sorry i'm not better at formatting. this is kind of a pre-lookbook of what i'm packing chicago. it's not comprehensive; it doesn't include jewelry, accessories, tights or my coat. a swimming suit, just in case.

lots of gray, with blue, green, and purple accents. red embroidery, fuschia suede loafers.

usually packing is more fun. i feel uncertain about my selection because new orleans and chicago are so different. am i too femme now? will i not look tough enough? does this all scream bougie?

it's 2am and a cab needs to be here just under three hours from now. sleep isn't likely. travel is too exciting. i'm putting new music on my ipod and worrying about run-ins with ex-boyfriends.

 

 

i've been looking at too many style blogs. my point of view has been muddled by all the preening. what does it all mean? people cease to seem original or expressive. it's just cute or clever ... or expensive. i feel somehow betrayed, for who has more of a history for appreciating how folks put themselves together? i want poetry, though; i want crazy.

there are still those who use fashion as theater; those who walk the streets with last night's dreams tattering from their limbs. there are signifiers and references that make an ensemble resonant. sometimes bad is valid.

it's too bad, caring so much what other people think or how one looks. it's too bad, caring so much about appearances.

pied?

the pursuit of happiness

yesterday's banking snapshot:

thank goodness i got paid today.


i should perhaps pursue financial solvency.

sartorleanist part deux

mimi's again:

 

last night wasn't the most stylish evening of swing dancing ever. a lot of the best dancers, the regulars, weren't there, and those are the people who dress with dedication. however, it was Packed and raucous. the era's signifiers are still in place, from the men's toppers to floral print dresses. you can see the hair whipping around and the smiles on every face.

ilana in silk polka dots, with a flower in her hair. she's dancing with max, who ventured into her shop today. he's living in chicago, going to columbia (my alma mater) but he's originally from florida. therefore, we both had homes in common with him, most of all that he's fun and willing to be silly. new orleans is great in that you can start talking to someone at a cafe or on the corner, and they'll invite you to a party that night.

your humble author, reduced to a blur because chance is swinging me so fast. (between sets, chance had to go home and change shirts because he'd worked up a sweat. as one of the best dancers in new orleans, he's in very high demand, and is never allowed to sit one out.) i'm wearing a vintage circle skirt printed with pink and yellow seashells, and i'm doing my happy damndest to keep up.

it was the kind of night where the drummer is a sub and many of the songs had false endings, and the tempo of songs is switched up. some new numbers were added to the Little Big Horns repertoire, and a lot of them were up-tempo. early on, max bought me a french 75 and it went right to my head.

i have crossed Oceans of Time to find...

...some awesome vintage dresses!

(winona ryder*, not so much.)

ilana posted some new items to her etsy shop Oceans Of Time, and they are ki-yuuuuto! as her model, i am interested in being fast, loose, and fun. i realize those three terms are euphemisms for slattern, but these looks are all innocent and -- dare i say it -- kooky.

 

this last disco-tastic number has already sold. it was only posted a few hours.

my favorite picture from this series is the one in which i am pretending to juggle tangerines. even though i have always wanted to juggle, there is something lacking in terms of my eye-hand coordination. between the clock necklace, the ridiculously rad vintage snake frames (they one belonged to ilana's grandfather) and my knobby knees, i think i could convince somebody that keeping three balls aloft is within my skill set.

why does everything have a twinge of innuendo tonight?

let's change the subject. just so winona knows that i actually love her (she's one of the few good things about Black Swan) let's watch this clip together:

"ho attraversato gli oceani del tempo per trovarvi."

field trip

i started this post over a week ago and never got back to it. been so busy. this is all i wrote:

"it's been a pretty great mardi gras. out of everyone in the city, i probably spent the least amount of time at parades, but i got a lot of quality time with friends, visiting and local. there was lots of dancing and dressing up and trash-talking. (my three out-of-town guests are from chicago, and chicago knows how give lip.)"

although i could continue in that same tense and pre-date this blog, i don't feel up to it. i'm having insomnia/flipped-schedule problems, and i'm getting tired. i slept eight hours yesterday, but it was from 7:30am 'til 3pm. before that i was up 23 hours straight. i know nobody cares, no one reads this; i'm just writing for me. just feeling a little loopy.

anyway, eric lab rat and sarah were in town, and so was elias/trae and it was really good. it's hard to go back to not having friends like that around. some needs were filled by their company, others were created. sometimes i really need my hand held. sometimes i crave to be safe within that forcefield emitted by someone who has learned to deal with social anxiety better than i have.

that's key, really, that learning -- that dealing with social anxiety is something that can be learned and improved upon. i don't know if it's a generational problem, but several of my friends have told me about their own feelings of insecurity and awkwardness. maybe i just attract people like that, and approach kids who are sensitive in that way. even those who seem confident and outgoing have secret shyness. i'm not saying anything deep here, i know. nothing original.

that i'm going to visit chicago in less than two weeks throws a diamond in my mental cogs. i have mentally moved into the future. the anticipation  is almost too strong, it blurs the present. all i can think about is where i want to eat and what i want to wear and who i want to gnaw on with my eyes.

this blog is too damn personal.

what this entry was supposed to be about was visiting two cemeteries with lab rat, sarah, and rebecca. we went to lafayette 1 and 2, seeking the tomb of marie laveau. even having lived here over a year, i had not been to the hallowed grave of the vodou queen. within lafayette 1, there are two mausoleums dedicated to her. one of them has a plaque, and fairly generic parade beads and silk flowers are scattered before it. the other tomb is unmarked, but the stones are scattered with lipstick tubes, coins, broken jewelry, toys, and candy. both aboveground monuments are graffitied all over with XXX.

superstition goes, if you want to beg an intercession of her powerful spirit, you write that xxx on her tomb. we overheard one guide say that you have to turn yourself three times; another tour guide said that you had to knock three times, and make your wish out loud. maybe it was supposed to rhyme. the guides also told their tour groups that writing on the graves is frowned upon. however, my companions and i were self-directed, and our wishes superseded any living authority figure's ideas about vandalism. for me to mark those bricks was about respect towards mme. laveau as a historical woman of power, and love for spirituality. lab rat, sarah and i marked both laveau graves, hedging our bets.

i used my lip gloss and left beads. (rebecca didn't put her hands on anything.) there's still some uncertainty as to whether either of them was authentic. i dressed up for my meeting with the idea of marie laveau. i wore balenciaga and cashmere and rhinestones.

there were a lot of other unusual monuments at lafayette 1.

we'd gone to lafayette 2 first; it was grandiose by comparison.

then we had late lunch at the american sector (one of the john besh restaurants) and went to crescent city comics. we tried to stop by the iron rail collective in the marigny, but it had just gotten shut down by the city, two days earlier. that's all kind of hot mess. lab rat and i went to the art house the following day, to make up for it.

sartorleanist

if this blog is ever going to get fashion-y, i need to start making style-related posts. here's what rebecca, ilana, and i wore to swing night at mimi's this past monday:

this is what rebecca, david, and i wore to swing night back on january 31st.

i have problems with documenting my outfits because i feel a lot of shame around my narcissism. taking that into account, though, my outfits are interesting. i'm going to give myself a little more license and try to not hate myself so much for being frivolous.


in the future, hopefully the dancers at mimi's will let me take pictures of their outfits and hairdos. also, there is a lot of fashion beyond mimi's. this is a great city for anthropological study through the lens of clothing.


if i weren't a ninny, i would have taken a bunch of pictures during mardi gras. costuming is a big deal in new orleans. eric and sarah took a ton of pictures with their awesome mobile photobooth.