The TV is tired of watching you.
sweatshirt: Adam Arnold
tank: Brady Lange
shoes: Alexander McQueen for Puma
house coat: Free People
socks: uhhh, Target?
A very special thank you to Kipp Knode and his ‘designer’ axes. I mean, who doesn’t wish they could carry this around with them through the foggy morning hillside.
Boots: Double H
Suspenders and Shirt: Adam Arnold
Gloves: English Laundry
Hat: Crown Cap
Shoes: Jeffrey Campbell
Jeans: J Brand
Suspenders: American Apparel
Fur: (made by our own) Brady Lange
Beanie: gas station treasure
My new obsession: getting to Cuba.
In the midst of architectural ruin and decay, the life that resides is so much more alive in the representation of preservation.
The palette that exists in the buildings is one that I have only found when wearing my rose colored glasses.
A special thank you to Michael Eastman for sharing his more then gifted eye and documenting what I have only imagined.
And maybe it’s the perfect temperature range of 69-80 degrees. Maybe its the socialist sharing of goods and rationing. Maybe it is the lack of progression and conservation of what once was.
But as I begin my week in these photos, I hope to one day live the life that they embody.
(And on another note, I would most defiantly need to buy this bathing suit. CANNOT GET ENOUGH BLACK MILK AS OF LATE.)
shoes- Jeffrey Campbell
jeans- J Brand
arm party and necklaces- vintage, Grayling, and collected from special places along the way
hat- bought at a grocery store
shoes- Cole Haan
jeans- Cheap Monday
glasses- Ray Ban
Here is a little story of how my most coveted leather became my proud leather.
Now, yes this looks easy, and the process, though easy, was insanely hard to begin. I have been mulling this over in my head the last few weeks. There was a super-dee-duper gigantic risk that was involved. If this went over wrong, I would be out of a jacket. And not just a jacket. The jacket that has lived with me in California, moved with me to Portland, has been there for numerous grungy roll out of bed days, the jacket that dressed up (down) plenty of cocktail dresses. Its my go-to survival piece. So, I was absolutely terrified to begin. But once that first punch went through, the BEDZAZZLE/SPIKEAZZLE BEGAN!
I am pretty pleased how it turned out. So pleased that I wore it to the ballet last night, and let me tell you…if you ever feel the need to scare grandmas and get the wide-eyed wonder from elementary school girls. Well, do what I did. If you are normal and do not wish to be oogled, well you probably should never listen to anything I say.
…and sometimes there isn’t anything to do, but turn the music loud enough to pound out all thoughts and take your sweet time spoiling yourself by getting ready for no good reason.
Because we are worth it.
Every once in a while I can look to the ritual of getting dressed for the day, for the night, or just because as a mini-celebration of self. One of the first memories I have of self-awareness was the day my mom had finally given me permission to pick out my own outfits for the day. I remember thinking… are you kidding me? I could, I WOULD pick out anything I wanted? Out of this entire 3 drawer dresser and shared closet…it was all UP TO ME. Of course I was gonna pick out the neon puff paint shirt with the pink and purple biker shorts with matching scrunchie, that was a no-brainer. DUH, MOM.
And things haven’t changed much, besides the puff paint tendencies. I love the action of pawing through my teenie-tiny closet and building on a concept. The ability to create an attitude with your threads is a power, a gift, that I do not take lightly.
This day in particular I desperately needed to feel pretty with a purpose. So on goes the silk dress, the fur, the tights, the nonsensical socks and heels combo with layers of necklace and bronzed gloves.
taa-dah, look mom, all dressed and ready to go!
belt: Free People
tee: Free People
jewelry: vintage and Portland Leather Company
hat: random from the military surplus store
Scarf on hat: Gucci
Tank: American Apparel