Posts from April 2013

“truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; truth isn’t.” // m. twain

the possibilities of fashion are endless.

it walks down the runway in a myriad of exhilarating ways and you think to yourself, nay, you believe that you too can carry off a look that a 6′ teenager with nary a bosom or hip to speak of stomped down the catwalk. for money.

but the facts of style and the fiction of fashion are where we, the general public meet. there are some items of clothing that just plumb confuse and confound – and although i know there are those who can/do (and will!) pull off a neon potato sack with accompanying peplum, to the rest of us – this type of dressing is just fiction. terrific, bewildering, ill-fitting fiction.





→ source : damir doma purus pants, and i quote:  “oversized high-waisted pants. lamb leather lining across elastic waist…” via totokaelo

→ source : kenzo rainbow orchids pleat-front shorts via lagarçonne

→ source : buffalo x solestruck 1345-10 shoes (rendered: speechless) via solestruck

→ source : tsumori chisato mousse tank dress that even the model looks questionable in, via creatures of comfort

“one day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.” // j. kerouac

 when i was small, everyone joked that i would either become a well-known author, or the assistant to a well-known author.

i am now… neither.

yet, i was never without a crumpled notebook and pencil, ready to scribble something down even when i didn’t have the faintest idea how to recite my ABCs, let alone jot them down.

the habit stayed with me – i would wait, with much anticipation, for that late august day my mother would pack us up and head to the nearest office supply giant to stock up on reams of paper, click-y pens, rulers, and highlighters, (oh my). there are stacks of collaged-upon journals waiting for me in a dusty box upstairs – lines upon lines of teenaged-angst waiting for the perfect moment to rear their dog-eared pages and pants me.

however embarrassing the contents within those notebooks, i miss the time when writing something down didn’t amount to the odd cheque, because really, who still writes cheques? my hand cramps when i handwrite a birthday card, and i can hardly put together my own signature i do it so rarely. to be clear, i love the busy-sound of a keyboard, but i long for the day when using a pen all day left a weird indent in my middle finger, and paper cuts were a daily hazard.

do you think the gas company would like a hand-written letter along with this month’s payment?








→ source : perforated covered notebook by hay via merci

→ source : new gel-ink ballpoint pens via muji

→ source : notebook with plastic cover via merci

→ source : multiples pencil holder via anthropologie

→ source : numbers jotter via present & correct

→ source : the cool kids pencil set via paper pastries

→ source : pretty things inside papier tape via a day with kate

“white…is not a mere absence of colour; it is a shining and affirmative thing, as fierce as red, as definite as black… ” // g.k. chesterton






→ source : peter jensen cut-out tunic via lagarçonne

→ source : coclico ishiro, (also cut-out) oxfords via shopbop

→ source : white swirl tube necklace by/via a merry mishap

→ source : vanessa bruno striped dolman sweater via lagarçonne

→ source : porcelain bowls by/via verena stella gompf

☆ have a delightful weekend!

i’ve never really believed in delicate.

i took ballet for years and never once did i feel the presence of grace. rather, it was the hard knock of my pointe shoes on wooden floors that served as a constant reminder that i’d rather eat a pavlova than dance like one.

i’ve never been one with the art of subtlety – i’ve always appreciated it with others, but never really felt that my short (and stout – i’m a teapot!) frame would allow for it. earrings, before the time of studs-only, were black hula-hoops, necklaces were forever adorned with large pendants, and the rings, well, you’d have to beware of a black eye if the hug i was giving you was a surprise.

the surprise now, is that i’m loving these slight and ever-so delicate rings – for myself. i never thought i’d see the day, but stack a few of these wisps of gold and silver on, and suddenly, you’re feeling like you could be the next sugar-plum fairy.














→ source : mini hex ring by/via mociun

→ source : mandrel studio white gold and black diamond band via twist online

→ source : darkside of the moon ring by/via catbird

→ source : made her think rhodium jaws of life ring via bona drag

→ source : stacked sapphire ring by/via mociun

taurus : april 20th – may 20th

paying homage to my star sign is relatively simple.

all i have to do is dig my heels in and not change. a thing. absolutely, ever. (i could only make this point clearer if i snorted whilst showing off my horns.)

my feelings are steadfast and i cling to what i know and like/love with the steely-grip of ten-thousand newborn babies*.

to bring this fact around to my wardrobe, an outsider would definitely aver that i seem to be stuck in very deep, wide and sticky rut. to that person(s), i’d contend that… i like what i like, and yes, i’m also probably stuck in a teeny tiny rut. however, i know myself pretty well, and in knowing all the things about meeeee, i’m fairly certain that i’m not about to attempt a full 180 in regard to the contents of my closet. i can however, take inspiration – and from the looks below, i’d be willing to change my views, even if just a few degrees…







→ source : the sartorialist

→ source : the gifts of life

→ source : le fashion

→ source : the sartorialist, again

→ source : the gifts of life, part II

→ source : atlantic pacific

*(newborns tend to have strangely fierce grips, so… there you go.)


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