Liberté, égalité, fraternité ou la mort!

Nicole Labry slays me every time! She is so brilliant, hilarious and sweet –
and can whip outfits like this out on a whim. Oh yeah, and she’s a mama!

Allyson Garro of Coco Coquette in one of her custom wigs – so sassy!

Miss Erika Payán Zanetti, a dashing swashbuckler.

Pierre owns the place with his lovely wife Justine – they have really given
the neighborhood, and the city such a gift. If you haven’t been yet, let’s go!

Penny Stark + Chia Guillory, wearing some of Chia’s incredible designs.
Matching rumba outfits? Ruffles and sequins and satin, oh my!

This is Emily. I love her hat and gamine face.

Dan + Jen = moustaches + white tulips make me happy.

Vive le France!

Francesca is a tiny dynamo who has always loathed being referred to as “cute” –
and though she’s so much more than that, I’m happy to see that she’s finally just
accepting and owning the fact that she is cuter than all get-out! Beyond cute!

I mean, seriously? Own it, girl! Rompers + clown-noses forever!

Mistress Stephanie’s luscious red ribbon heels.

Vintage deadstock sunglasses from Coco Coquette, hair ornament from Tail of the Yak.
I collect clothes with little hearts, and painted or enameled deco ball chain jewelry. FYI.

Allons enfants de la patrie,
Le jour de gloire est arrivé.
Contre nous de la tyrannie
L’étendard sanglant est levé.

Arise, children of the nation!
Our day of glory is here.
For against us we see raised
Tyranny’s bloody banner!

My full set of Bastille Day photos are up on Flickr! – take a peek!

also, a charming Scotsman named Sandy Carson
took amazing photos all night – go and see!

Afternoon light and shadow-lace veils. Dressing up is a balm
for my soul. It’s still my favorite game, and I’m going to endeavor
to do it much more often – even when I’m only stepping out for
a little while. I feel like it makes a difference in other people’s
lives too. Also, I feel that those of us that enjoy it owe the rest
of the world an example of how not to succumb to the perpetual
casual Friday that has sadly become the norm. Dress to inspire!

We went to dinner at one of my favorite restaurants the other night,
the Eastside Show Room, and had fabulous cocktails and tempura-okra
and little quails stuffed with figs and talked of exciting plans,
and of cabbages and kings. I found this 70′s wrap dress at
Feathers, (one of my favorite vintage shops here) and wore
it over a black slip (yes, the same one I’d been living in for days!)
fancy stockings and a pair of suede foldover boots from ASH
that I’m wearing as much as possible despite the rainy days
we’ve been having. The sequin headband was made by my
sweet Miss Nina Carolina, and the golden leaf necklace is
from Ren at Lux Revival. I love wearing things from my friends!

Speaking of, I borrowed this dress from my BFF Pandora. It’s a very special
dress, and has magical powers. It’s the most comforting, happy-making
thing to wear, ever. As if it were cotton spun from buttercream and sunshine.
I hope you’ll forgive the outfit and vanitas heavy post, but it’s been quite a
spell, so I’m cramming a few into one! Are you down with the fripperies?
The brown wedges are also from ASH, and I adore them. They are so well
made and comfortable, and obviously I like being artificially tall. Plus, it’s
nice to be able to throw on a summery frock but then take it up a notch
with some serious footwear. Dressing for heat like this with any modicum
of elegance is definitely an art. My advice? Always carry a hand-fan.

My darling friend Chad Merritt (of St. Mary’s and Mon Petit Fantome)
came to town, and did much to lift my spirits from the doldrums!

Sweetness! I don’t know how I never realized before that the horse mural
on Milton St. (off South Congress) is a superb backdrop for picture-taking!

If you aren’t familiar with his beautiful music, or his wonderful
artwork, I suggest you get yourself acquainted! Not only that,
but he is one of the funniest, sweetest and most thoughtful
people I have ever known. I only wish he could be here all
the time! Chad lives on the Gulf Coast, near the Texas/Louisiana
border, and has been through several vicious hurricanes that
basically destroyed his hometown (as well as his home and
belongings). I’ve never met anyone more resilient and open-
hearted. We talked about our sorrow about what BP has done
to the Gulf, to our oceans and to the lives of everyone in the
region. He’s been a real inspiration to me to not get mired
in the swamp of despair. We’re both Capricorns, and our
saturnine natures make us a little pre-disposed towards
gloom – but you just have to pick yourself up and take
care of business, and then make art or writing or music
from what’s in your heart. My concepts of justice and
fairness have really been tampered with lately. I’ve
been feeling like a little kid, stomping and screaming
about how unfair various situations are – these huge
corporations that get away with destroying our world,
these cops that get away with shooting unarmed young
men in the back, and all the little dramas that we perpetuate.
I’m starting to wonder if justice really even exists – or it it’s
just an outdated concept, a mythical beast. I had a vivid
dream recently that I’d thrown a big party at my house
where the guests got drunk and rowdy. I found a card
from my mother’s tarot deck torn in half. Can you guess it?
Yep – JUSTICE. I fixed it with cellotape and kicked the
hooligans out of the garden. Pretty clear symbolism there.
What do you think? Is there any justice left in our world?
Was there ever? I try to think of it more like a wheel –
sometimes the wheel takes a long, long time to get
back around to even things out, but I like to think
that it does eventually. I do believe in karma, but
I don’t think it’s always as instant as we would like
it to be, and there’s always run-off. See what happens
when I try to make a frivolous post about outfits? Ha!

Okay, so even though it’s a little bit late, I want to wish a happy belated
birthday to Stevie Nicks. I’m a latecomer to the enchantments of the Welsh Witch,
as my parents were definitely not into soft rock of any kind. I was raised listening to
old country music like Hank Williams, Kitty Wells, Jimmie Rodgers, and The Carter
Family. My parents played traditional old-time folk music and Irish reels, and were
more likely to drag me to a Sacred Harp Shape-Note singing revival than to a concert
where people were wearing feathered roach clips in their hair. My dad plays bagpipes,
banjo and concertina (as well as a dozen other instruments), and has exposed me to
incredible music my whole life. When I was in high-school, all the rich hippie kids would
be wearing their mom’s crochet blouses and listening to all their old Fleetwood Mac and
Led Zeppelin records. I scorned them, scowling in my dog collar and ripped black rags,
listening to Skinny Puppy, Legendary Pink Dots and (oh yes) My Life With The Thrill Kill
Kult. Cokehead faux 70′s bourgeois brats could suck it, as far as I was concerned. I can
remember a few times hearing a snatch of Stevie on the radio, and being oddly captivated
by the catchy hooks and mystical allusions, but then feeling sort of guilty and embarrassed.
I managed to grow up completely innocent of almost an entire era of music featuring permed
performers, but there was something alluring and forbidden about the songs I’d hear still being
played at the dingy Playland roller-rink amid the disco lights and the constant danger of falling over.
I’ve never been able to successfully enjoy roller-skating (gasp! I know.) so maybe that’s why
I focused so hard on the music while waiting for my friends to finish their spins and join me in a heated
game of air hockey (still obsessed!) This might explain how I came to adore ABBA as well. (My thing with
Cher, I promise I’ll get into another time! I know!) I remember an afternoon shortly after I moved
to New Orleans, getting dressed to go into the French Quarter to get coffee. My sister was watching me
lace up my black platform boots and giggling. I was wearing them with a long, tattered cream lace dress
and, a gold fringed shawl. I thought I looked very magical. “What, it is too Stevie?” Uh, yeah – it was.

It looked rad though! I think I changed, but now I wish I hadn’t! I wish I’d rocked my Stevie look without
shame, man. A few years later, I had a spate of loved ones dying in quick succession, and was mired
in some of the darkest times in the Crescent City. All of the sad, bleak music I’d always relied on for years
fell short. I couldn’t listen to Death in June or whatever, because there was no music depressing enough
to resonate with where I was at, and I knew I needed not to feed it. In order to keep going, and keep my
head above water, I found the only solution to be music I had previously scoffed and cackled at.

Fleetwood Mac – Gold Dust Woman – Live in Japan 1977
(Naysayers, behold! I think this video is spectacular — surreal, dark and oh so Biba!)

Oh yes, my darlings. That spring and summer, I listened almost exclusively to the Mac, and to George Michael.
“Father Figure” was guaranteed to make me laugh instead on wanting to lay on the floor weeping, and when it
seems like everyone around you is dying, well – sometimes you just need to listen to some ridiculous shit to make
it through. What’s the word for a sense of nostalgia for a time and place you only barely experienced? I must admit,
out of all my passionate anachronisms, I’m most embarrassed by my weird thing about some of the tackiest elements
of the 1980′s. To be fair, or at least more specific, I get really excited by anachronisms of anachronisms – like 70′s does
Art Deco/Art Nouveau (swoon! My favorite!) or 80′s does the 30′s-40′s (shoulder pads, draping, killer hair, red lips) as
well as 80′s does renaissance (unicorns, flowing shifts, fluffy perms with bangs). The fluffy renaissance redux perm is
my hair fixation of late. Why can’t I have this hair? Flashdance hair! I think it’s so, so pretty and I love seeing curly-headed
girls rock it. So tired of blow-outs and silicon stick-straight mendacity. I’m ready for big hair to come back. Let’s do it, y’all.

NIGHTBIRD by Stevie Nicks and her sister in law Lori, who I think is really gorgeous. Kohl-eyed sorceress, yes!

Obviously my favorite Fleetwood Mac song. The video is absurd, and I love it.

I’d love to go to Night of a Thousand Stevies in New York one day, speaking of absurd — have you ever been?
Imagine a thousand queens, spanking each other with tambourines and twirling, twirling the night away! Too dreamy.
While I’m at it, I’m afraid you might need to go see this video of Xena, Warrior Princess playing Stevie in a SNL skit -
she actually kind of nails it, and it’s so right. We won’t go into any backstage stories or witchcraft denials (lame),
since it’s the lady’s special day (or it was earlier, anyhow). It’s all part of the magic, right? Viva la Belladonna!

“I still look up
I try hard not to look up
That girl was me
Track a ghost through the fog
A charmed hour–a haunted song
Track a ghost through the fog, baby…“

♥ I can’t get over these pearblossoms. Giant fluffy snowball trees exploding
all over town. I wish they had a nicer scent – our smells kind of awful, but
aren’t they heart-stoppingly lovely? I hope we’ll have pears this year, the
last few seasons it’s been the birds or passersby on the street who’ve
nabbed them. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a homegrown Poire Belle Hélène!

♥ Advanced Style
This is such a fantastic fashion blog. Sometimes I think that the only people
who really know how to dress with real joie de vivre are the very young
(Here’s lookin’ at you, Tavi!) or the silver foxes. I know I plan on being the
most outrageously well-dressed granny ever. No sweatsuits for me- not now, or ever!
(Thanks you for this, Mlle. Amelia!)

♥ On that note, I know probably everybody’s seen this already, but
LY is a great style hero of mine, and this peek into her marvelous home
and collections of dollies and toys is just priceless. I want to go there for tea!
Lynn Yaeger on a Lifetime of Collecting

♥ This made me happy: today, we operate on objects from girlwonder
(Thanks for the link, to Mr. Warren Ellis.)

♥ Michael Bay to remake Rosemary’s Baby. Really? What a travesty.
I can’t think of anyone less qualified to do it justice.
I rarely am pleased by remakes of any films, although
I must say that we watched Alexandre Aja’s version of
The Hills Have Eyes, the other night, and were very,
very impressed. It’s seriously grim, but quite well done.

♥ If you’re an aspiring photographer, read this
and become part of the solution, not the problem:
For Photographers, the Image of a Shrinking Path
(Clayton Cubitt, on a recent article in the NYTimes)

♥ Stunning images of sleeping insects festooned in dewdrop diadems
(By an aspiring photographer – I wonder if he was paid for them?)

♥ On The Road With Dark Dark Dark Here’s a great playlist from Marshall
+ Nona + company. We got to see them again during SXSW,
and they were wondrous. They’re on tour, so see them if they
come your way – and get that new album, it’s so sublime.

So, something bad happened this past fall when I was recovering
from surgery. I developed a nasty habit. Not as bad as, say, crack-
but similar. I started watching Lost. Yeah, it’s true. You see, I don’t
have a television (I’ve never owned one, and never intend to) but
now you can watch these things on the internets, and that is very
dangerous indeed. While I was laid up in bed, I wanted to watch
something very absorbing, slightly supernatural and not funny
(because laughing with stitches in your belly is no good) and
somehow we ended up getting totally hooked. Two months later,
we’d made it through five seasons. Horrifying, I know. It’s like I
said: crack cocaine. If you’ve never seen it, then take my advice:
don’t. Not unless you are also laid up and high on darvocet
like I was. That being said, I am relatively unashamed of my
bad habit- especially since it’s very nearly over and done with.
Now we go to the Alamo Drafthouse every other week and watch
it with a bunch of other dorks (some who show up in Dharma
Iniative jumpsuits. Yes, really.) So, if you’re similarly addicted,
you will definitely appreciate the wonderful LOST Underground
Art Show that Mister Ales Kot alerted me to recently.
Great stuff. A few of my favorites are below:

Ben Strawn
“The Number 108″
acrylic on plexiglass, layered

Leontine Greenberg
“Smokey In Disguise”
watercolor, pencil and gouache on paper

Chris Ryniak
“Circle Of Ash”
acrylic on panel

It’s interesting to think about art being inspired
by something as banal as a television show, but
why not? Being a latch-key kid, I was largely baby-sat
by the television (and large stacks of true ghost stories
and books about the paranormal- not great for reading
when you’re eight and at home all alone!) and I remember
being hypnotized by it for hours and hours, and how tired
and sad I would feel afterwards. The commercials always
made me hungry and angry. So I’ve tried to shun it for a long
time. Kind of ironic, considering that my grandfather was a pioneer
in that world (he produced and directed the first televised operas,
as well as the first science fiction television show, Captain Video.)
I was just reading Rachael Gibson’s (Fur Coat, No Knickers)
confession about her obsession with The Tribe. Oddly enough,
I caught a few episodes of The Tribe when my grampa and I
were traveling though Europe. I think maybe we were in Spain?
I remember being totally captivated by this weird show about
raver-goth kids living in a post-apocalyptic shopping mall.
Now, thanks to the magic of the youtubes, I can see what it
was all about! Oh dear. Someone stop me, please.

Related posts:
☛ Fruit + Flower
☛ All The World is Green
☛ Strange Season
☛ Avgvstvs I.

The Last Gadjo Disko! It’s true, darlings-

Saturday, February 6th
at La Zona Rosa
612 West 4th St.
10pm-4am
18+
$7 – $15
Dress to transgress!

With performances from:
Comintern
Wino Vino
Franziska
Sick
and
DJ Chicken Kiev
spinning 100% recycled culture:
immigrant punk – baile funk – kuduro
slavic hip-hop – disko ethnoteka

Gadjo Disko is ending because one of our glorious triumverate, Mack –
who you all know from his inimitable pizazz and fabulosity at the door,
is moving to SF! We will miss him enormously, and there’s no way it
could happen without him. The three of us (myself, Chesley and Mack)
have worked really hard to make Gadjo Disko what it is, and it’s been
an amazing experience. It breaks our hearts, too – but this is the way
it’s gotta be, at least for the time being. Hopefully we’ll be doing more
events in the future though – I can’t imagine us not putting on parties!

Can we just take a minute to revel in the glory of Mackling’s magical
tiger boots? I really need to somehow find a pair in my size. Stunning.

This was taken kind of late in the evening, after many smushings had
smudged my Peking Opera macquillage and my blue weave had been
ditched. There are fresher versions here and here though, if you prefer!

My friend Steve Brudniak is an amazing artist, as well as being a demon
on the dance-floor! Check his work out – it will blow your mind, promise.

These guys are Computer Jesus Refrigerator, and I love them.

I love this girl’s dark green eyes, and lavender hair and sparkly jewels
and well – pretty much everything about her! Who is she I wonder?

Miss Melanie looking incredible in her balinese mask + feng shui mirror earrings!

Cindy Sparklefingers and Jimmy Jewell = ♥

Miss Nicole Labry on her birthday! I suprised her with a big tray of wee cupcakes
and everyone sang! Earlier in the day, we surprised her with a male stripper
dressed as a cop who tried to bust up her birthday barbecue with his nightstick!

Miss Amelia Valentine looking especially sultry and lovely, oh what a woman!

Um, hello lady. You are real sexy, and I hope you don’t mind me posting
this awesome photo of you despite the wee nip slippage! Hotcha!

Corinne Loperfido + Alisan

Despite what Kangaroo Sexy says, this last Gadjo is no secret!
Spread the word far and wide! We have a fabulous new venue
with room for all, and anyone who’s never had the opportunity
to attend should jump on it! It’s going to be an amazing night!

It’s incredible what you find on the ground when you take the time to look.
We found beautiful rocks (Lone Grove is rock-hound paradise!)
and treasures buried in the sand. One day, maybe we’ll find
some arrowheads. My Grampy used to find lots out there.

More fodder for my mycological fixations!

We finally managed to bring home this gorgeous stained glass window
that was my mother’s. New Year’s Eve is her birthday, but it feels like
she gave me a present instead this year. I can’t wait to install it in our parlour!

We were treated to three very beautiful sunsets, all very different but each
very spectacular. This was my favorite though, taken while driving the
Willow City Loop! If you get the chance to take that drive, I highly recommend it.

Lovely Miss Amelia joined us for the holiday – always managing to be the
picture of elegance in satin peignoirs and kiss curls around the campfire.

She took this picture of me in front of my favorite blasted tree.
I got these Posture Magnetic star leggings recently, and I wish
I could wear them every day! I don’t know if Brian Erickson is
still making this stuff, but if anyone finds any – please let me know.

It doesn’t get more celestial than star pants + singing bowls, you know?

Colin is the singing bowl master – he made tones come out of that little bowl
that made me laugh with elation and had my eyes streaming tears.
Have you ever played one? They are amazing. I want a really huge one!

Like my antlers? Miss Jolie Holland made ‘em for me!
They are so simple, and so perfect – I love that lady.
I hope that your celebration was marvelous, and that your year is off to
an auspicious start. Any resolutions or goal-makings for you? I have lots!
Hopefully I will do a better job of accomplishing them this time round.
I am being helped a lot by the teuxdeux, an excellent to-do list maker.
(Thanks for turning me on to this, Gala!) I love it. Perfect for the obsessive
list-maker who spends too much time online!

This year I intend to:
✶ cook outside more often –
it’s so fun and satisfying!
✶ dance more!
✶ dress with specific intention every day
✶ write lots of letters and postcards!
✶ be more engaged with my body,
through yoga + exercise – oh yeah!
✶ read more – I have heaps of wonderful
books awaiting me, so delicious and tempting.
✶ make lots of jewelry
✶ re-design this bee-log – soon, soon!
✶ start selling off a lot of my vintage collection,
and keep selling interesting curios
✶ additionally, I would like to be more
patient, serene and positive in general.
✶ oh yes, and I’d like to DJ lots more!
I could keep going, but I think that’s a
pretty good start. Now is the time.

By the way – if you haven’t gotten a copy of the latest issue
of Coilhouse yet, (Issue 04) you had better hustle!
I am so proud to have two articles in this one:
the interview I did with Larkin Grimm, with an
additional piece on the Musicka Mystica Maxima Festival,
and an interview with Christopher Brosius of I Hate Perfume.

One day, I must get to back to Detroit!
I have family there – I visited them by train
when I was very small. Have you ever been?
Check out these incredible photographs
of abandoned buildings – I’d love to explore them!
The Grandiose Decay of Abandoned Detroit

I enjoyed reading this excerpt from a biography
of super-tragic supermodel Gia Carangi and her teenage years as a David Bowie fan.
I’ve always loved thinking about the tidal wave of glam and glitter
and the fever that swept up the restless youth in a sea of glitter polyester!
Can you imagine? What a crazy time to experience, eh?

One last thing – if you still have not seen Badlands (Terrence Malick, 1973),
then we need to talk. It’s been on my top ten favorite films of all time list
for many years. Sissy Spacek and Martin Sheen are incredible, and
I adore Terrence Malick’s work. I wish the soundtrack was available,
it’s great too. Man, I need to see it again soon! I wish Criterion would
release it – the only copies I’ve seen have been real scrabbly.
Right! With that, I bid you goodnight! I go back to work on the morrow,
and must figure out what the hell I’m doing for my birthday – it’s only
a week away! Ideas? I’m fairly stumped, though I may have just nailed it…
This trip into the wild was pretty inspiring – perhaps the tipi will play a part!

Savage Lipstick, baby. Wicked red. Isn’t this just the best? J’adore.

Oh pink cupcake of death, your edible glitter was so alluring,
and yet – you were not so tasty! I could only eat half, and to my
way of thinking, there’s not much sadder than a half eaten cupcake.
A cupcake should be something you gobble up, and then immediately
start wishing for another. The cupcake glut has left us awash in inferior
specimens – but I ask you, how the hell do you screw up a cupcake?
It’s not that complicated, so when you have a bad one, it really
seems like a travesty. I’d rather have pie, honestly. Thoughts?

This beautiful embroidery on sheer lace panels made us think
of Miss Dawn from Boudoir Queen – expect to see it transformed into
a gown or fantastic bit of frippery soon, unless of course it’s gracing
the walls or windows of her legendary boudoir, eh? Ooh-la-la!

Pink stars + glad tidings to you, kittens.

Merrie, merrie! Yet another year that I for the most part totally neglect
to send out any sort of holiday cards – though I do have some now!
Ah, next year! I am really endeavoring to not neglect my correspondence
in the coming turning. Stamps, sealing wax, stationary ahoy!
I love letters, and all the accompanying accoutrements,
and I love receiving mail more than almost anything.
I was instructed in my youth that if I wanted to get mail,
I’d have to send some, and that is very true advice indeed.

What a pretty and demure (though very stained!) little belle.
I’d like to see the Gibson Girl hairstyle come back into vogue sometime.

I could not believe my eyes when I saw this Victorian blouse
covered in laceworked swastikas. I knew at once that it had
to be mine! Here it hangs in my studio, where the sun is
probably going to dry-rot it – but it looks so lovely in silhouette!

In the 1900′s (and for about 3000 years before that)
the swastika was good luck symbol used all over the world.
It’s sad and strange to me to think of how symbols and sigils
can hold so much power, and how they can be perverted
and changed to mean something quite opposite.
A lot of my recent work concerns transitive meanings,
and this delicate blouse is a good reminder of that.
By the by, my lineage and personal political views
are about as distasteful to the Third Reich as a soul
could get. Had I lived during the Holocaust, my jacket
would be covered in so many various star and triangle
patches they would have run out of room. Very glad
I live in the time I do. There are some interesting articles
about the swastika symbol out there: Wikipedia’s of
course is very thorough, and Lucky Mojo has some
great images of Victorian postcards and beadwork.
One time we had an old bottle of Swastika brand
whiskey in the store. It attracted a lot of questions,
until one day someone ripped the label off.

Grrizelda chewed my bra in half. Who could be mad at
that face for long, though? I think she did it intentionally,
as if to say, “Dang, mama! Your draws are pitiful!
Man oh man, do you need some new lingerie!”
My underthings are in a sad state of affairs.
Obviously, I’d love to have nothing but Agent Provocateur
and Kiki de Montparnasse, or especially the delicious
frippery from Hopeless Hotel, oh wouldn’t I just?
My drawers-drawer needs a makeover, people.
Send me frilly things, toute-suite! For real.
I was raised by my dad, and am not a busty lady
so I never went bra shopping until I was an adult.
I can actually still fit in my first bra ever!
I still have it! Crazy. I think I need some sort of
intervention. Is there an underwear makeover
show out there for me? Oh dear, I bet there is.

I got caught up earlier staring for way too long at
National Geographic’s hypnotic Patterns in Nature series:

Frost covers the windshield of a car in Tuscarora, Nevada.
Photograph by David Boyer

Snow covers an orchard in the United States.
Photograph by Richard Olsenius

Bare trees cast lacy likenesses on Kunming Lake in Beijing, China.
Photograph by Macduff Everton

The other night, I was invited to two costume parties:
the first was a 60′s-70′s themed holiday bash, and the
other was a Peter Pan/Lost Boys birthday party.
My conundrum was to come up with something appropriate
for both, and also warm. I went with a witchy-progrock-cult
member-medieval look that is probably more 80′s looking
than anything else, but what the hell. I’m pretty obsessed
with my new peruvian wool poncho, and having been wearing
it every day. I used to borrow my step-mama’s cloaks and
suede wrap-boots (man, I miss those!) and wander the woods
after reading piles of Elfquest comics. (Did you know you can read
ALL the old issues online? True. Very dangerous! Oh those Pinis!)
Yeah, I probably carried a staff and definitely was fervently wishing
at all times that I had pointy ears and four fingers and that the
elves on their wolves would come and rescue my from my
adolescent misery. Anybody else with me on that?

This is me, on the moon. In my backyard. Wearing the beloved poncho,
apparently asleep. Clearly passed out on the ground (or the moon)
is my favorite pose. Yep. Stay tuned for more photos of me sleeping!

Poncho, scarf, leggings, boots = all thrifted. This is my uniform.
Not so much with the headband, though I do want to reclaim it
to it’s true glory. I’m working on revolutionizing them, and I promise
it won’t involve stretchiness, terrycloth, or being jammed down
over straightened bangs, okay? Just wait. It will be magical.

My darling Sienita left her Oaxacan gold earrings in my driveway
the day after Halloween, and I’ve been wearing them nonstop
ever since! I’m totally holding them hostage! The ransom is
100 pesos and a bottle of cherry-rum cordial, just so you know.

Witch witch witch.

Speaking of headbands, I remember being completely fixated
on the album artwork for Debbie Harry’s Kookoo.
Her face is the most perfect face, ever.
This image made such a huge impression
on me at a very young age, but I’ve never
actually listened to it! How odd. Have you?
Of course it’s by H.R. Giger! He also directed
two videos for this album, holy shit -
how have I never seen these before?

Crazy. I feel a Coilhouse post coming on!

Oh, and lest I forget – the time is nigh for winter perfumes, my darlings!
I discovered Messe de Minuit by Etro, and wear it nearly everyday.
It smells divine mixed with CB I Hate Perfume’s Burning Leaves,
with a touch of Wild Hunt. Messe de Minuit = Midnight Mass,
and for me that conjures images of abandoned churches,
Satanic rites, sexy witches, and freaky monks. Also, Hexmas!
You gotta love Etro’s own rather purple description:

“The magic flute that conquers darkness.
A boys’ choir on Christmas night.
The gleam of a Templar sword.
Alchemy and perfume, the perpetual oscillation
that lulls Merlin to sleep in the forest of Broceliande.
Messe de Minuit is primarily incense tempered
by notes of vanilla, myrrh, and cinnamon.
Woody and spicy, it is a mystical escape
from the ordinary male stereotype.”

Oh, really? Phallic much?
The main notes are:
Orange, bergamot, tangerine,
labdanum, incense, myrrh, cinnamon,
patchouli, honey, amber, musk, vanilla

There are a lot of conflicting reviews about
this one, and they’re all worth reading:

Bois de Jasmine – Messe de Minuit

Jorge de Burgos Would Approve: Messe de Minuit by Etro

Frangrantica – Messe de Minuit by Etro

Victoria’s Own – Messe de Minuit

“Snow is the most dramatic and exciting aspect
of winter in the Northern hemisphere,
dressing the world with a white gown of sparkling snowflakes.
Fête d’Hiver is my winter fantasy, with fluffy powdery snow
on a fur collar, and burning incense and cedar in the fireplace
in a little cabin in the middle of the woods.
Her brother, Bois d’Hiver smells like bringing in a fir tree
along with a trail of cold snow air from outside.
Both perfumes have a foundation of frankincense, myrrh and amber,
and have enough spices and orange peel to make them smell
almost like pomander, mulled wine and church incense.
But in both cases I tried to stay away from the usual
holiday clichés by adding a little twist: rose and gardenia notes
in Fête d’Hiver, and orange blossom and fir absolute in Bois d’Hiver.”
-by Ayala Sender of Ayala Moriel Parfums

I’m intrigued by Ayala Moriel’s
winter scents, especially from her description
found at the Scented Salamander’s winter and fall
perfumes post. I return to that one again and again:
I love reading about Christopher Brosius’
wintery concoctions. I’m really craving his Gingerbread
perfume, and wondering why I haven’t ordered
any yet! His Winter 1972 calls to me also -
it’s the scent of “fields of untouched new fallen snow,
hand knit woolen mittens covered with frost,
a hint of frozen forest & sleeping earth”
What are you wearing now that the
weather’s turned blustery?

See also:
Favourite Winter Fragrances from Bois de Jasmine

Winter Solstice – Dark Season

Snow Maidens

Sienna la Bruja! For various reasons I’ll elaborate on at some point soon,
we had to nix our planned trip to New Orleans. Sienna is another NOLA expat,
and we commiserated on our homesickness, though I’d say we tore it up in Texas
pretty damn well! Soulmates were met in the forest, fires conjured, and mayhem
ensued despite the cold, inadequate music, and general asshattery we encountered.
Unfortunately, all my photos from that portion of the night mysteriously vanished!
Luckily, I was using two cameras, and the first batch is pretty choice, thank heavens.

Frannie sips a mysterious beverage made with dry ice absinthe and lemonade,
garnished with a blacks spider. The absinthe-soaked lychee eyeball floating at
the bottom was just beyond! I have a new favorite food. That’s all I want to eat
from now on, okay? That, and ghost-cheese ravioli. Also, persimmons!

Chad the sexy wolf-child, with just a touch of gangrene! Ooh la – watch out!

Colin was an undead Oddfellow, wearing all authentic regalia found guess where?

The hoodwink and golden fishscale leggings and matching helmet are all so fine,
not to mention the man himself – who not only looked amazing, but also saved the
day when a powerful meeting of the minds caused my unicorn horn to spontaneously
shatter. It was just like in Legend! I thought the horn was made of plastic, but no!
It was actually glass, oops. Costume disaster was averted by my extremely talented
honey, who fashioned me a replacement out of tinfoil. He is a sexy genius.

I was so happy in my unicorn ensemble, that I really didn’t want to take it off
at 5am when it was high time for lullabies. I think I achieved my 7 year old
self’s fantasy ideal, though last year’s costume did set the bar rather high.

The sweater was a lucky New Bohemia find, worn as a shrug for the night.

The makeup was so fun to do, I wish I’d gotten a better picture of it.
Please ignore the falling off eyelash, and focus instead on the little pastel stars!

I met White Birdwoman in the lavatory, and fell in love with her magic mask,
which brought to mind one of my favorite series, The Snow Queen by Joan D. Vinge.

Ronnie was the first (but not the last!) Harajuku Girl I saw that night.

A very cute Jack and Sally.

Cassie = Bob Dylan

David, the Forest Prince

The next night, we went to see Gogol Bordello, which more than made up
for the lackluster entertainment situation on Halloween proper. It was great to
see my old friends bring down the house, as always, and to all get naughty
at one of my favorite dives. Good sweaty fun, and so many dear faces.

How did your Halloween turn out? I hope it was truly everything your heart desired!

My plan is to be a unicorn. More specifically, my childhood ideal
of a unicorn girl incarnate. It’s a natural progression from my
Unicorn Princess costume circa Mardi Gras 2005.
This time, I’ll actually be the creature, rather than just having
it emerge from my ribcage. I thought about trying to recycle my
unicorset, but decided against it for various reasons, namely:
1. It’s nailed to Dana’s pantry wall in New York.
2. It’s all moldy from Hurricane Katrina
3. It would be a total cop-out to re-use it.

(Photo by Steve Passlow)
My inspirations have a lot to do with Lisa Frank Trapper Keepers
and puffy stickers, as well as more traditional sources like
De Historia Et Veritate Unicornis and ancient woodcuts and tapestries.

(Sara, age 7, at SLC Pride. Photo by D Sharon Pruitt.)

I think it’s a pretty common thing to have been totally obsessed with
unicorns if you were a little girl who grew up in the eighties,
but of course I feel like I was particularly fixated. Freudian, yeah okay.
I am unashamed of my hardcore unicorn infatuation. They represent
everything that is perfect and magic, and I still believe in them.

Kesh is always an inspiration to me. I wanna make dresses with her
and then go dancing! The girl is made of unicorn magic, for real.

Oh, um. Now I die from the cute. Sorry, but I had to include sno-cone kitty!

(Photo by Nymphadooora)
Must figure out the macquillage! No doubt it will involve
many tiny iridescent stars and hearts. I’m kidding around
here folks – we’re going whole hog, rainbows and moonbeams.

The wig I ordered is super magical and mane-like,
and even better than what Miss Moss has – though
it’s true that I’ve long wished for cotton candy pale pink
hair since I was little bitty. I think it’s the loveliest.
Very hard to find a wig that really gets it right.

This is perfection, as far as I’m concerned.
Makes my heart pitter-patter!

Where am I going to find a herd of candy goats anyway?

I wish I knew who this artist was. Any leads, anyone?

It’s been kind of a heavy time over here in Grackleville,
and I feel like embodying my childhood fantasy might
take me to a place that I used to venture to in daydreams.
You know, the meadows of silvery clover behind the waterfall?
I think that dressing up as your hopes and dreams, (or your nightmares)
can be very cathartic. Costume therapy, maybe. Mummer’s magic.
And yourself? What will you be dressing up as for Halloween?
Where are you drawing your inspiration from?

She was born to be my Unicorn
Robed head of ferns
Cat child tutored by the learned.

She Was Born to Be My Unicorn
- T. Rex