You too can have one!
Step one: buy an alligator claw back scratcher, available at most south Florida drug stores or online here.
Step two: Saw off the stick.
Step three: paint its toenails a pretty color.
Step four: krazy glue a pin to the palm.
Step five: pin to a crazy jacket, and give Iris Apfel a run for her money.
As John Waters would say, I genuflect to Yulia Tymoshenko's tyrannical top braid. So Eastern European, so tight.
I hope she keeps her hair immaculate while imprisoned.
SZERETLEK, YT!
Secret Snow in Stella McCartney
Lynn Yaeger thinks guillotine, and I tend to agree. Unfortunately, I would drown in this diaphanous poof ball… still, would go down looking goooooood.
Swoon!
How apropos that I have been assigned to review a book about accessories during fashion week, most of which I have spent strictly wearing solid colors, reading Simone Weil and contemplating the nature of existence (piety is the new black.) The book is infinitely more exciting than the actual coverage of fashion week I have seen (it’s just not wacky enough –– I would tell you my brilliant idea for a photo shoot, but I don’t want to blow up my brother’s and my spot) and, while not a light and happy read about bracelets, does offer some very funny, interesting launchpads to learn about new things. Namely, that the Futurists thought a lot about certain types of accessories:
Futurist Manifesto of the Italian Tie
The painter and sculptor Renato Di Bosso and the poet Ignazio Scurto, assisted by courages young Futurists from the Veneto region, declare an unrelenting, aggressive and ferocious crusade against the noose-like knots of black, gray, and colored ties…
Italians! Abolish knots, bow-ties and all anti-speed, anti-hygienic and anti-optimistic frippery!…
A man’s character is shown by the tie that he wears. Today, in this divine, dynamic, simultaneist motoring age, the character of a man must not be shown by a knot and a piece of material, but by the shine and the purity of metal.
Thus we invite all Italian men to boycott the ordinary tie and wear the Futurist tie, which we launched on March 27th 1933 in Verona.
The Futurist tie, an ANTI-TIE OF HARD-WEARING SHINY LIGHTWEIGHT METAL, is a sign that the wearer possesses flexibility, strength, intelligence, sobriety, solid ideas and an innovative Italian spirit…
The metals used should be between one and two fifths of a millimeter thick and thus be of corresponding minimum weight, while the knot must be completely abolished. It should be a few centimeters in length…
The anti-tie, held in place by a light elastic collar, fully reflects the sun and the blue skies that enrich us as Italians, banishing the melancholy pessimistic look from the breasts of our menfolk.
How ridiculous are those young men and boys who wear ties like diplomats or gloomy notaries. Mothers! Give your sons a bright shiny anti-tie which will inspire them with optimistic original ideas and dreams of light and flight.
Indeed, with the anti-tie, every man, every youth, and every one of our boys will possess that aviator’s look look of which all Italians are worthy.
It is better to be adorned with the sunlit wing of an airplane than with a ridiculous rag…
Futurists! Boycott noose-like knots!
Italians! Dress like virile men and not like those about to be hanged!
——-
Tee hee! How funny is Futurism? I think it’s because while obviously ridiculous, they take themselves so damn seriously!
Another one, for a night time giggle:
The Futurist Manifesto of the Italian Hat
The much-desired and indispensable revolution in Italian men’s clothing began on September 11th 1914 with the great Futurist painter Giacomo Balla’s famous manifesto, “The Anti-neutral suit.”
[It goes on to say…]
1. We condemn the Nordic use of Black and neutral colors, which bring a muddy stagnant melancholy to the rainy, snowy and foggy streets of the city making it look as if there are enormous logs, boulders, and turtles being swept along in a brown deluge.
2. We condemn that traditional, passatist headgear that is so out of touch with the aesthetics, the practicality, and the speed of our great mechanical civilization. For example, the pretentious top hat that prevents fast movement and attracts funerals.
In August, when the Italian streets are full of blinding light and torrid silence, the black or gray hat of the man in the street drifts above, as dreary as dung.
Color! Color is needed to compete with the sun of Italy
3. We propose the Futurist functionality of the hat, which until today has been of little or no use to Man, but which from this day forth must illuminate him, mark him, take care of him, defend him, make him faster, and cheer him etc.
We will create the following types of hat:
1. The velocity hat (for everyday wear); 2. The night hat (for evening wear); 3. The luxury hat (for parades); 4. The aero-sport hat; 5. the sun hat; 6. The rain hat; 7. The mountain hat; 8. The sea hat; 9. The defense hat; 10. The poetic hat; 11. The advertising hat; 12. The simultaneous hat; 13. The plastic hat; 14. The tactile hat; 15. The signal hat; 16. The sound hat; 17. The radio-telephone hat; 18. The therapeutic hat (resin, camphor, or menthol with a band moderating cosmic waves); 19. The automatic greeting hat (with a system of infra-red rays); 20. The intelligent-making hat for idiots who criticize this manifesto.
They will be made of felt, velvet, straw, cork, lightweight metals, glass, celluloid, compounds, hide, sponge, fiber, neon tubing, etc. either separately or combined.
The colorful nature of these hats will bring the flavor of huge dishes of fruit and the luxury of huge jewelry shops to the streets. The streets at night will be perfumed and illuminated by melodious currents which will destroy forever the tired-out sentimentality for moonlight.
—–
Up next, by request: more infant fashion blogging!
In an earlier post, I said I was not a Kate Moss devotee, but I think I was either lying or have developed into one over the past year or so. Anyway, I stumbled across my coworker’s copy of Kate Moss Style: Inside the World’s Most Famous Wardrobe by Angela Buttolph and have been skimming through for an hour or so. A quote I stumbled across reminds me way too much of myself! (Minus the whole assertive follow-through.)
“I’d been saying for years, ‘Shall I cut my hair? Shall I cut my hair? Shall I cut my hair?’ And my friend was like, ‘Kate, for God’s sake, shut up! Just cut it!’ So I did that day.”
One of these days I will do it!
Tonight is Fashion’s Night Out, the annual event when people celebrate the fashion industry by forming crowds, standing in lines, and looking pissed off. I will be honoring the occasion by going home, trying to get some work done, giving up and resorting to drinking tall boys, eating pizza, and watching my new obsession, Dance Moms on Lifetime, of which yes, I am very ashamed.
All the while dressed like my new muse, Kathy Bates in Misery.
Gotta get fat, ugly, and/or "touched" to snag an Oscar.
I think I blog/write/do in order to keep from feeling idle, which brings forth in me a guilt almost impregnable. The easiest way of not feeling idle, though, is if external forces make it so that you are participating in something without any real activity on your part. This is perhaps why I was so thrilled that a hurricane was coming to my area this weekend. (This the same week as an east coast earthquake –– TGIA = Thank G-d It’s the Apocalypse!) My roommates and I shopped for supplies (read: liquor) and prepared the Netflix queue and sat in anxious anticipation. Everythingelse –– blog posts, unfinished essays, existential crises, etc. –– would have to wait until after the storm. But the storm, unfortunately, never came, and because of its absence the surge of motivation I wanted to do do do also never arrived. I remain limp without a maelstrom outside to make me stand at attention.
So… here is what I was planning on saying before the storm:
My friend MH and I, much to the amusement of her husband, make lists every season of new clothing we would like, and this past list I wanted to cite a picture of Edie Sedgwick in which she wears a maxi silk (?) dress (gown?) that has sleeves so long they go over her hands, and yet even though I knew I had seen the picture before, I couldn’t find it for the life of me. Until yesterday, when, biding time, I relapsed on an old addiction (Edie was someone I thought gorgeous when I was young and stylishly sad) and found exactly what I wanted:
She looks pretty badass, yes? Unfortunately maxi dresses don’t look good on me, as I’m not a waif, but rather a miniature Barbie figure (according to my BF’s sister’s mother-in-law… awkward, I know.)
I straight up “stole” this picture from another blog (run by two teenagers –– I’m assuming –– whose handles are Sienna893 and LilStarGirl or something equally twee and egomaniacal) on which the administrator posted something really silly like, “Please don’t just take these pictures and reblog without giving credit, xoxo!” You’re probably 14 years old and blogging pictures taken by photographers in the late sixties, and you’re claiming ownership? Modern life is so sad and empty.
Speaking of sad and empty, one last Edie reference before I leave behind that adolescent fixation until… I am feeling bored and itchy yet again.
I want this necklace:
mybondageaccessories.shop.com
Continuing with my desire to be a kindergarten fashion blogger, a “muse” post. For instance, a la whowhatwear.com…
Currently Channeling: Animal
Itinerantdaughter's Blog 