Underwater Moonlight...And How It Got There

This picture is a momentous day in Gothic Preppy history: the first time I asked someone to take a picture of me for my blog. Embarrassment!

Me: You know, if I wasn't so skeeved about it, I would ask you to take a picture of my outfit.
Boyfriend: Well, you asking me that probably means that you want me to take a picture of your outfit.
Me: Wouldja? (pleading puppy-dog look)
Boyfriend: Heavy, put-upon sigh


scarf: ebay
dress: thrifted vintage
coat: thrifted vintage
belt: ebay
socks: Prada
shoes: Terry de Havilland via ebay

Ignore my stupid expression and/or the fact that I had to lighten the picture. This is what happens when you wear all black.


But hey everyone loves shoes and socks right? Except for the fact that as I clomped downtown, the sole began to come up! I had to walk extra pony-esque so I didn't just topple over. I think that lady lied about only having worn them once...

Bits and Bobs

(Do you ever think about making your blog safe for work? I almost called this post "tits and bits" but I thought about how that would look if your boss happened by, and thought better of it.)

It's weird, writing for a global audience as we do, that people look at your blog who can't even speak the language, as evidenced by a couple comments I have gotten! Unfortunately my French is nonexistent and my Japanese slips away a little more each day, so it's English for now.

Above is the advert (I guess) for Boudicca's Wode, which S. Bub already expounded on. And since I don't have $140 to drop on a can of hemlock-scented (actually: Juniper, Cardamon, Nutmeg, Clary Sage, Corriander, Angelica Root, Saffron, Tonka Bean, Styrax, Amber, Treemoss, Musk, Leather-Ed.) spray paint, I and we can purchase a sample on Lucky Scent.

Speaking of, this outfit goes into my Black Is Interesting Instead Of Just A Cop-out folder. I don't like layers because I feel too pudgy to carry them off properly, but that's my own cop-out.



PINK
PINK CAMERA PHONE
PINK CAMERA PHONE WITH LITTLE PINK BUTTONS



A piratey wedding dress from Viv Westwood. For the lady in your life.


And of course, Lagerbear.

Tonight is the debut of the much-maligned de Havillands; they were insanely comfortable walking around my house, but it remains to be seen if the comfort level is maintained across six city blocks and one too many sweet tea vodkas. I always feel bad if I end up taller than my boyfriend (although I'm 5'4" on a good day, and these are only 5", so it is cutting it close), so that just means I get to slouch like a debutante giraffe.

I was wasting time at work earlier looking at YesStyle, a mecca of reasonably priced, absolutely bizarre covetables. Witness the cute Chloe-ish winklepickers, really nice over the knee boots with zips, and this Banana Fish dress which is so disturbingly weird that no comment is needed. Just soak in its stunning strangeness.


So I bought this Comme H&M sweater on ebay for $40; I figure that a $10 markup is fine, since I didn't have to wait in the freezing cold at 4 am to fight with some mean old ladies just to end up empty handed anyway. And I didn't have to fly to New York! It is a medium though, I hope it fits me in the way I want it to. Or else back on the auction block it goes.



Can I confess that I only really wanted this sweater cos of Tavi?



This outfit is perfection! And assuming she got the XS, since she is such a wee tiny thing, if we adjust for proportion, the medium should fit me in the same way.

There are many life skills I lack, including talking to grown-ups, talking to customers, cooking a proper chicken, and making my bed. The skill I most regret not having is the ability to dress for cold weather. In Florida it's pretty much a non-issue; you wear cut-offs and flip flops for 9 months of the year, and when it gets cold, you just throw a hoodie over that and continue your business. But I want more. I has no long skinny cashmere sweaters, no mini coats. I can't even wear a hat due to my Dumbo ears. Not to mention being a slave to society's ideal of skintight and slutty butts right up against my animal desire to coddle myself in wool mix and drink tea on the couch with my dog. That said, I will let these lovelies from colder climes influence me:


(p.s., how great is this outfit/girl? She looks like the demented lovechild of DJ Tanner and Sandra Dee. And the Moomintote!)






Stolen variously from the interwebs.

I've made it a mini micro mission to try and collect anything and everything vintage I can from any of the London designers of old: Granny Takes A Trip, I Was Lord Kitchener's Valet (hah yeah right), Jaeger, Biba, Mr. Freedom, Bill Gibb, Boy London, on down to Katherine Hamnett and Worlds End (again, yeah right). No one in America except us and Anna Wintour knows they even really exist, and so you can get some relatively decent deals on a lot of it (excepting maybe Biba due to the resurgence of the brand). My collection has grown today not by exponents but by a pair of

5"

snakeskin

TERRY DE HAVILLAND PLATFORMS FOR $102.50 ON EBAY



I will probably never wear them, just frame them in a shadowbox. Black and orange Halloween shoes!! Werewolves of London!! AWOOOO!

More for your perusal







I GUESS I KNOW WHO I'M GOING TO BE FOR HALLOWEEN THIS YEAR HUH

OMG OMO

I feel really stupid that I didn't know that Norma Kamali was doing a line for Wal-Mart, since I've been searching for her jersey bandage skirts on ebay for God knows how long. None of those here though, and to my credit I only go to Wal Mart for Diet Dr. Thunder and Sam's Choice Tropical Trail Mix, so lay off, OK?


I put this picture up, though this cardigan is out of stock. I know, it hurts me too. I personally want the t-shirt, original vintage probably huh?


The Colonel Sanders look is in this season. As far as I'm concerned though, the Colonel Sanders look is in every season.


Who wants a pair of harem pants? No one? Yeah, me neither.

All under $20, but selling out fast (the jersey bandage tank dress, sob sob). I need to renew my subscription to WWD...

WHAT A KAWAII DAY

In stark contrast to the polished, Joan Crawfordy style I pretend to project, my someday home will be filled with finest cashmere blankets, gingham, distressed old furniture and all manner of bygone comforts.


I've been kind of obsessed with finding a dog lamp ever since I saw one on Greatest American Dog (I do talk about that show a lot, don't I?). Theirs was chalkware Lassie, mine will be a spaghetti poodle.


Back in the day, you could go to the movies every week and recieve a new piece of Depression glass, and drinking an egg cream out of a pink glass makes life so much more wholesome, doesn't it? These drawer pulls from Land of Nod won't give away the naughty knickers that lie inside your dresser.


I knew in my heart of hearts that a set such as this must exist, cos French people practically invented cooking, and I need a place to keep my sucre. Why are you $200-some-odd-dollars, French canister set of my dreams?


They will go great with my Sailor Moon kitchen utensils. Yes, I own these. Stop judging me!



I realize that a pink camera will not ameliorate society's ills, or my own ills, or my own crappy photo taking, but hello, it's pink. And not from Akihibara's trendiest electronics emporium, but from Target. TARGET! And you can draw on the screen with yo finger.



And what goes better with a pink camera than a charm of Kitty-chan riding a dolphin?

I got the Steve Madden thigh high boots in the mail, and I am really sad to have to return them. Plasticky leather and shoddy construction make them more suited to working on say a shrimp boat or in a restaurant kitchen. I guess it's all water under the bridge though, since it now frees up my funds to buy some Terry de Havillands...

Ebayin'

I felt bad because I saw the spike in people looking at my blog, expecting a new treat, but there was none. So here is a mini post to tide you over til I can get home and take a pic of my outfit (thrill of a lifetime!)

I was looking at the Ebay Fashion Addict and she was talking about this ebay shop: Vagabond NYC. These are not spur of the moment purchases, but if you need a gift for a very special someone, or a birthday dress, you could do worse. Since you will spend $200 or more on a pair of Steve Madden shoes, a Marc by Marc bag, a bunch of F21 junk you will wear once, why not take the splurge and buy something that will (and has) stood the test of time.



vintage gucci, $204



vintage biba, $220



prada dress $198 (!)



rudi gernreich, $1648. It comes with matching socks which are clearly worth the price. DEMASIADO SEXI!



Per Susie Bubble...do you think I could get a passport/inexpensive plane ticket to London in the next two weeks? Or should I just pinch my sister's passport? My next post of the new year will be live from Gitmo...

Friday Night and Saturday Morning

Friday Night by Lux Interior

It's getting cooler, and my thigh high boots are on their way. I am thrilled. This is what I'll wear with them, but for tonight I'll have to wear my Pennangalan boots (best investment ever, i wish I had more $$$) and tyrolean jacket as pictured below.

And remember, kids, tights and shorts are NOT OK. shorts and silky smooth Prada thigh-highs are ALWAYS OK.

It's all moot, though, because I will never have this dress, because I live in BFE. I will also never be petite and adorable, I'll just be gawky me with my 20.5" arms (Plum Sykes complained about having 19" arms, gimme a break!) and no beautiful rusty orange mini shift.

from Everybody Is Ugly

Long Beautiful Hair

At this point in my life I have resigned myself to people thinking I'm much, much younger than my 23 (soon to be 24, ugh vom) years. On election day, an old woman stopped my sister and me to say, "HOW OLD ARE YOU? YOU'RE NOT OLD ENOUGH TO VOTE!" This is probably due to the combination of big, childlike eyes, a round butterball face, and long long stringy hair. I think short hair is the ultimate ager; look at Suri Cruise. She could pass for three at least.

Add to that the fact that my hair is irreperably damaged from The Perm (my advice on getting a perm: don't), and it's like a perfect storm of Reasons to Cut My Hair. But I've had long hair ever since 8th grade, and after 10 years together (already?) my hair has become a security blanket, a pet. Jealous girls always comment; they cut off their hair based on fashion's vagaries. I keep my hair long because I am neurotic and assign great meaning to objects.

I gotta say though, that people who cut and straighten their hair to perfect right angles, shiny like obelisks, hair curtains for their frail eyes, probably almost never have sex, because you would have to run immediately to the bathroom afterward to restraighten and aqua net. That's why you can have Louise Brooks, but I'll take Clara Bow. Maybe it's just my own wishful thinking, but I think we share features: the frizzy, wavy hair (obvi), big goggle eyes rolling around in our round skulls, Cupid's bow (politically correct parlance for small) lips.





This was my last haircut before The Perm. Clearly, the Selma Blair/hydrocephalic infant look was in at the time.

Who do you think is more stylish, the person who strolls into Barneys and buys the first bag, belt, shoe, and coat they see, or the person who sweats and fights at an ebay auction, digs through mold-scented thrift store bins to unearth a Pucci gem, and finds fur coats in abandoned houses (who are these people? I need to be hanging out with them cos clearly they are in on the ground floor)?

Do you think fashion should be a function of your bank account?

This has always been a problem of mine, when I would read through a copy of Vogue and my eyes would be rolled back so far into my head reading about how stylish someone is when they have a stylist and/or clothes given to them, and/or access to the world's finest vintage designer fashions. It all came to a head with Sea of Shoes in French Glamour. Of course it's easy to solve a problem when you can throw gobs of money at it. It's harder, and infinitely more rewarding to dig your heart out like a pig for truffle for the perfect pair of boots, a 20s dress, a diamond ring marked as rhinestone.

This isn't even about her; it's not my place to berate a child for the lifestyle they were born into. Its about the outmoded fashion elite and class system who decree that anyone with money is immediately stylish by virtue of the designer pieces they own.

What do you think?

Halloween Hijinx

Good Evening.

I'm Vampira and this is my boyfriend Dr. Herbert West.

I got my mom to tease my hair, and as she stepped back to admire her kraftwerk, she says, "You know, you kind of remind me of that vampire lady from the 50s. I don't think she's in Plan 9..." So mission accomplished.



Next year I'm just going to be Dale Gribble, all I'll have to do is smoke cigs and shout "sh-sh-SHA!" at inappropriate moments.



-I recieved my epic parcel of magick on Friday; as I was loosing my treasures from their brown paper prison, I noticed that there were other items within: a dove-gray peplumed (not a real word-Ed.) jacket, another with Tyrolean embroidered trim and devastatingly high armholes, two skirts with such tiny waists that I would have to have a ribectomy just to button them. I was gobsmacked and emailed the seller to make sure it hadn't been some horrible mixup. It wasn't, in fact, and in her infinite kindness, figured that someone who wanted some dresses would probably also want a bunch more beautiful vintage clothes. You will see the rest here eventually.

-And the shirt I am wearing with it is my Goodwill find; I saw a worker taking it off the rack, and I hedged my bets that it wasn't an Old Navy vintage wannabe and took it off her hands. "I was just about to throw that out," she said.



It has a copyright of 1972, making this the oldest t-shirt I've found thrifting by 15 years. What is Fandango?


-Sometimes I think I spend compulsively; sometimes I think that I'm the most special person in my life and deserve everything I want. I'm into instant gratification, looking nice and $7 toothpaste. Problem is, I need a car. (I need a license too but first things first.) So it is with heavy heart that I have to declare a moratorium on new (clothing, makeup, magazine, trinket) purchases, at least for these next few months. There will be no shortage of window shopping, lusting, coveting, posting or thrifting, I will just have to get creative with my vast wardrobe.

Spend My Money for Me

So I was talking about the 30s dress that never was (at least I think I did, take my word on it), a Depression-era column of striped cotton, mini collar, unusual pointy skirt. This is its almost exact dupe:



It's only $26 with two days left and I don't know what to do. Especially since I would have paid $50 in that vintage store.

Stay tuned later today for my Halloween roundup, Ebay surprises, and the coolest vintage shirt I have ever thrifted.