Thankfully, I'm not referring to Jay-Z rehashing 'Bonnie and Clyde '05'. Oh no.
If 2010 was a series of 'moments', the story of Bonnie and Clyde (or more specifically the 1967 film; the real Bonnie had a limp and severe scars from burns towards the end of her crime career) has definitely had it's moment within the past twelve months.
Spot the difference 2 - a still from Bonnie & Clyde (1967)
Spot the difference 2 - Bedrossian
Spot the difference 2 - Lindbergh
I'm not trying to be a party pooper or the girl who cried plaigarism. As I said before, it's hard not to come to the same aesthetic conclusions when you're drawing inspiration from a film with such a strong image. Both editorials have some amazing, totally original images. They also have different moods. The Lindbergh shoot is full of movement, while Bedrossian's work is more contemplative and static.
A super cool action shot from Lindbergh
A beautifully composed shot by Bedrossian
It's a very close call, but I prefer Lindbergh's shoot. Which one do you like best?
... to a few things. Biological detergent and harsh astringents are the first things I can think of. But I'm allergic to organising my life.
I'm moving into a new apartment in a few weeks and since I'll be moving in with someone, I have to get rid of all the stuff I haven't worn in forever, including clothing that I have fairly serious emotional attachment to (but that I can no longer fit into).
I'm allergic to eBay. This isn't an attempt to say that eBay is terrible (it's only bad for my bank account) but I just can't seem to get the hang of it. It took me three hours just to put up eleven listings. Towards the end I thought that my eyeballs might actually pop out of my head like Judge Doom at the end of Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
My listings are here. And I've got more items on my Photobucket, so if you see anything you like, drop me a line and I'll give you a quote. everything is priced to move and anything that doesn't go will be carted off to a car boot sale next week, which will probably suit me right down to the ground. I just can't hack online selling.
With yesterday's post still firmly stuck in my mind, I can't help but be reminded of the Club Kids.
My obsession started with renting out Party Monster with my sisters. We watched it once. Then I watched it again. And again. Anyone acquainted with their brief moment at the forefront of cutting edge cool will know the seedy story that overshadows their outfits (in short, movement leader Michael Alig, along with drug dealer Robert 'Freeze' Riggs, killed another drug dealer, Angel Melendez and disposed of his body in an incredibly brutal fashion). Which makes their appearance on the Joan Rivers Show more than a little bittersweet since the phrase "you're not hurting anyone" pops up all over the place.
Before the clubs became saturated with drugs, however, the Club Kid ethos was a series of Situationist pranks (scatology, mutilation and lactation were common themes for club nights and outfits) and guerrila parties, which took place in McDonalds and Macys departments stores, amongst other places. To tap into the Club Kid psyche, just listen to your inner freak. And maybe have a look at these here pictures.
EDIT - Here's a few more pictures of Club Kid trading cards, used as publicity tools for Disco 2000 club nights.
Two days ago, a funny thing happened. This blog started getting three times the normal amount of hits and I had no idea why. That is, until I went on Style Bubble and saw that one of my comments had been re-upped on a post about blogger poses . This is what I said.
"The old 'mid-air jump' pose is another pose not for the light hearted blogger. Tried it once. Never again. Think I'll just stick to the 'Are those MY shoes?' pose in the future."
So, if anyone out there should click on the link and wonder what the one time I tried the mid-air jump and failed miserably looks like, here it is in all it's anticlimactic glory. It was taken in a dingy smoking room in an even dingier nightclub and this, believe it or not, is the best of what seemed like twelve million attempts but in reality was probably only five or six. In my mind, I look like an electrocuted sausage roll. Hence, sticking to the 'staring at the shoes' pose in the future.
Jacket - Lipsy, Cardigan - Agnes b, Top - Ann-Sofie Back for Topshop,
Borrowed scarf, Brooch - Sonia Rykiel for H&M, Tights, Primark, Vintage roper boots
PS - As you can see, I've a negligible amount of links at the side of my page. I'm going to get on that very very soon. I'd love to trade links, if anyone wants to, do let me know!
Ahhh. This is the last Cheap & Nasty post to grace these pages. Mmm, cathartic. Doers anyone think that this is prophetic by the way? I wrote it in June of '09.
Like OMG BFF *falls down dead*
Dazed Digital bills Charlie White's animated collab effort OMG BFF LOL, as 'slightly disturbing'. And it, like, totes is (ahem). What's most disturbing, apart from the delightful responses that it has been getting on Youtube (example - 'what the fuck i type in lol on youtube and this comes up theres nothink funny about this'. Groan...), is the fact that it holds up a mirror to people and their shopping habits - and you really won't like what you see.
There's a lot to be said about art that has a global message, but does anyone think that the theme of consumerism as an inherently Evil or Wrong thing is a bit, well, overdone? It is true that life, and thus shopping apparently, is a merry-go-round of wanting, getting, wanting again... until what? There's no end! Sound the Doomsday alarm! Our lives are meaningless!
Don't mind me. I spent a lorra money today on clothes that I can't afford, so this just makes me feel truly awful. I must have NO soul.
On a more vacuous note, is it just me or does OMG BFF LOL remind you of every single episode of Saved by the Bell where Lisa Turtle (aka Lark Voorhies) spends way too much money on her credit card, times a million. Although if I'd been in this Always ad, I'd probably try to shop away the pain too.
Here's a post I really should have put up earlier from this month's Paris Vogue.
Once upon a time I actually had reasonable French but all my parlez-vousisms have dribbled out of my ears and I just buy French Vogue to look at the pretty pictures and to look quizzically at the Antonia Fraser interview her life with Harold Pinter. I really wish I knew what she was saying.
French Vogue reminds me of Playboy. Playboy from the 50's and 60's, not spreadeagled plasticky smooth women. Sometimes you think that Vogue is all editorial, then you get hit with a treatise on the motivations behind working the camouflage print or that Antonia Fraser interview. It's a bit like opening an old copy of Playboy and seeing a short story by Nabokov or an interview with Malcolm X. It's weird and incongruous and totally cool.
Speaking of weird and incongruous and totally cool, there are my favourite pages from the Lady Cops spread starring Brooke Shields and shot by Bruce Weber. Salty goodness.
Today I went to my brother's confirmation. Since my brother is the youngest of four, it inevitably doesn't have the same amount of ceremony as it used to. I also feel like I should add that in the past ten years since my confirmation, circumstances have somewhat changed when it comes to religious ceremony in Ireland. It's sad but it's true. For the confirmation my parents wore suits, my sister (who was my brother's sponsor, a kind of moral compass - ha!) wore a leather jacket and skinny jeans and I wore a polka-dot minidress, which my mother said was indecent.
Consider the below photo. This is what I wore to my graduation. This was the second university that I attended (but the first time that I managed to get a degree... long story).
Rented gown and, er, pennant thing - Arts Faculty at UCC. Shoes - Aldo. Tights - Penneys/Primark. Dress - All Saints. Jacket - Lipsy.
I graduated in September and, as you can see, I'm pretty uncomfortable. I'm really not good with ceremony and I usually end up dressing very inappropriately without really thinking (hence the mini dress in church situation). The shoes clacked on the walk up to the college president. He gave me an odd look due to the studded lapels poking out over the gown. The purple tights were a bit of a standout in the class picture. All in all, it was a sartorial miss for the people around me.
But it was my graduation. It was a celebration of all the hard work I put in. It was a time just for me. And that's why I love this outfit. Sometime you just have to go with what you like.
That and purple with navy is a criminally underused colour combo. Ahem
This is one of my favourite posts from the old blog... If you're the kind of person who feels sick at the sight of a person's bare feet (and there's more of them than you'd think) perhaps you shouldn't look any further.
I was promised a new pair of shoes. What I got was this... It took my best friend A more than an hour to painstakingly draw in all the aspects of an Adidas Predator (am I right?) soccer boot on my feet. Next time a pair of Ann D's I think. It's the only way I'll get my hands on a pair.
I love my new boots so much - I might just keep them. Below are some detail shots. Apologies for the poor quality. The photos were taken with my awful camera phone and the lighting was a shaky bedside lamp, resulting in overly-dramatic shadows.
My favourite part is the stud detail (though that was the tickliest to have done).
