ladies and gentlemen

tuesday/headscarf: gap, tank top: unknown, cardigan: forever21, skirt: forever21, tights: american apparel, shoes: doc martens. wednesday/headband: urban outfitters, sweater: uo, dress: vintage, belt: h&m, tights: american apparel, shoes: report, necklaces: h&m, purse: dooney&bourke.

..i present, for your viewing pleasure (or displeasure, for that matter), outfits from last tuesday and thursday.

i usually detest any and all shiny and/or sparkly garment embellishments, so my recent affinity for sequins is quite a strange thing. i bought this skirt as a cheap way to test drive the trend, and i'm liking it so far, but i can tell that i'm not going to get much wear out of it, as it's fraying and starting to lose sequins already.. such is life.

"i'm buying groceries, i'm buying glasses, i'm buying shoes, everything.. it's black friday."

my cousin was kidding around, but apparently some other people weren't, and the aftermath of black friday was nothing short of grisly, with three people dead nationwide. i slept in after having stayed up late slumber partying with my cousin the night before, hung around, and headed into the city in the afternoon. we each had things in mind to buy, but neither of us were hell-bent on bargain hunting, allowing us to relax and laugh at the absurdity unfolding before us. it was an uneventful excursion for the most part - i stocked up on socks, of all things - but i did snag these jeffrey campbells for $20.

childlike wildlife

"rox, i have to go. there's cake, and they're singing 'happy birthday'."

"ah! all right, have fun and i'll see you soon! happy birthday, welcome to your third decade!"

i don't know what prompted me to phrase my sentiment that way, but the comment freaked taylor out, as well as myself. the word 'decade' still maintains a heavy, practically interminable connotation in my imagination, separate but not so removed from eras and centuries. to be on the brink of entering (or five months into, in my case) a third decade is nothing short of terrifying. i lamented over leaving the suffix of -teen behind back in july, but never contemplated this particular phenomenon, and frankly, my dears, it's daunting.

"if you give it a minute, it's gone.. if we're just waiting a second too long.."

luckily for me, too much saved by the bell clouded my nine-year-old perception, and contrary to my tween predictions, the sun does not rise and set on youth during high school, chattering away beside an impeccably decorated locker in bright, punchy threads. for all intents and purposes, i'm entering my golden age, but its inherent transience paired with my self-awareness renders me hesitant. how's it going to be? locked away in a library, in furious pursuit of academic excellence until framed diplomas of increasing rank materialize upon my walls? perpetually adrift, opposed to nothing and open to everything, eternally testing the waters until they give way to something permanent?

i believe that no matter how complacent a generation of youth appears in retrospect, youth itself is a complex and teeming revolution. which faction will i be a part of? and how will i choose to convey my allegiance to the world? i'm beginning to bristle at the idea of being told by vogue's age issue how to play up my youthful energy via carefully chosen hem lengths and heel heights. i prefer the less-traveled, autodidactic road, since with all due respect, i can't adhere to boundaries set by someone else. is this a rebel song?

[images courtesy of numéro via foto_decadent]

broken social scene

[image courtesy of lastnightsparty]
first and foremost, i want this girl's boots and gold chains. badly.

secondly, happy thanksgiving, all!

a month in the life

hey, kids.

i write with bleary eyes and weary limbs, having recently woken up with a whopper of a cold. since i'm unwilling to risk making it worse in the freezing rain, i'm taking refuge under my blankets listening to cold war kids - their name just seems fitting - and trying to relax. after all, i won't be able to stay in bed all day, and so my list of things to do keeps running through my mind despite my best efforts. it's been over a week since project east, and this girl still has yet to dig herself out of her mountain of responsibilities. yet i'm blogging for several reasons - because i enjoy it, because i have ideas to get out, and because my last post was almost half a month ago, among others. when i came across this ny times article, about the "small, quirky movement called slow blogging," my first thoughts were something along the lines of, "well, i'm already an inadvertent member of that club.."

then i recalled plenty of lazy weekends, spent both at school or at home, when i looked at my old posts and consciously decided to not write something new, perhaps because i simply didn't feel like it, but mostly because i simply wasn't inspired enough to write a quality entry. on the other hand, i'd be lying if i'd never added 'blog' to my ical's to-do list, cringing at the fact that my last post was written weeks ago. do i write for the blog, or does the blog make me write? a tug of war between the two circumstances, i suppose. in the spirit of blogging as reflection, i offer these pictures, which i left untouched on my camera for a month. i was pleasantly surprised to find a pretty concise chronicle of the past few weeks, even including some pre-hard drive crash pictures.

OCTOBER
FOURTH
twice a year, our house holds a "golf" event in different rooms throughout the building. we dress preppy, we mingle, we dance. it lasts six hours. our house is close.

TENTH

remember when i talked about how angry i was that i hadn't yet been to a 1992 party? we decided to take matters into our own hands. entire outfit courtesy of american apparel, naturally. that goes for my double u-neck dress that sara's wearing too (kudos if you know what the hell my face is doing in that picture, because i really have no idea).

SEVENTEENTH


EIGHTEENTH
picturesque as a postcard.

TWENTY-FIRST
practically no one could tell what our carving was supposed to be, but i was proud nonetheless.

THIRTY-FIRST

i'm probably the only person who goes to salem on halloween and takes pictures of the scenery and not the tourists. rest assured, the temporary population was colorful, but this drew me in more.

having a hippie holiday.. and way too much fun.



NOVEMBER
FIRST

halloween, take 2

FOURTH
obama wins.. and the crowd goes wild.

after leaving my mother to her happy tears and drying my own,
we took to the streets, where an ecstatic celebration was taking place.
we sang songs and hugged strangers,
still in disbelief but not wanting to wake up from the dream.

EIGHTH


our biannual house-wide 90's party. these are those shades i mentioned used to belong to my pops.. ridiculous.

TWENTY-SECOND
an upper-level view of the majestic sanders theater taken during the h-y glee club concert. fight songs and merriment galore!
instructions for THE GAME (the 125th year of harvard-yale, that is): wake up, drink. eat breakfast, drink. go to tailgate, drink. go to game, drink if you managed to sneak in alcohol. freeze to death for hours, go home, nap. eat dinner, get ready for parties. party, drink. drink.. drink (these instructions are completely optional, of course, considering that i did all of the above minus the drinking). harvard beat yale (of course), 10-0.

so if my posts were sparse this past month, at least there was a reason. notably absent, of course, from these pictures are those from project east. since i was backstage hastily dressing and undressing models the entire time, i regret to tell you that i don't have any of my own images, but a full post dedicated to that night, with pictures, is on its way. promise!

RED ALERT!

calling all fashion bloggers! PROJECT EAST is taking place TOMORROW EVENING (Saturday, November 15, 7PM, 39 Holyoke St., Cambridge).
manish arora.
jen kao.
iseey fucking miyake. showing for the first time outside of his own runway in paris. this is historic. you should be there.

$15 for a regular ticket, $25 for VIP, which gets you closer to the runway and allows you into the reception and auction, where we'll be auctioning off TWO - count 'em, two - lanvin necklaces, issey miyake items (perfume, watch, garment), a vivienne tam dress, a chloe dress, a derek lam bag.. the list goes on.

and yours truly is in charge of ticketing! put in a request for tickets by comment, email, smoke signal, whatever. just be there.

consider this your personal invitation.

check our press*!
dailycandy boston
weekly dig
stuuf@night
where magazine

*please note that the show starts at 7, not 8 as these stories report. last-minute change!

city lights, painted girl

courtesy of lastnightsparty
love it or hate it, this girl's definitely got a whole lot of chutzpah (love that word).

p.s.: i have tons of pictures i'm dying to share, but my recently revived mac doesn't have iphoto.. ? currently hunting down a tech-savvy person to help me out.

hit my beeper, not my phone

i remember spelling out my sartorial frustrations on this blog once upon a time, complaining that there was no fashion presence on campus, and i was caught in a real rut. in the months since that rant, a combination of my environment and my perspective has taken a turn for the better, because it seems like my agenda is filled to the brim lately with truly engaging prospects and opportunities related to fashion. i've already talked about project east (ticket details forthcoming!) and my first article in rive magazine, but i've also got an article coming out next month if all goes well, i've been attending fashion career seminars with jay calderin, the founder of boston fashion week, and i just scored a mentorship with a magazine editor. it's finally starting to feel like i'm taking tangible steps towards making a life out of what i used to think was just a daydream.

along with all of these new developments comes a new tendency to draw inspiration from practically everything that falls into my line of vision. i definitely still swoon for chanel and mcqueen and all that jazz, but i'm also falling hard for completely new aesthetics, and not necessarily ones you can find on style.com.


i've been riding a major sixties kick for the longest, so i was stunned to open up my depleted, post-hard drive crash itunes library and discover that there was a time when i didn't have gads of bob dylan tunes. while i slowly but surely replenish my janis and jimi, i'm rediscovering my love for synthesizers, booming bass, infectious rhythms, and lyrics with swagger. in other words, i'm craving pure, unadulterated hip-hop, which begs the question: where were you in '92?

in 1992, i was a first-year student at st. mary's of the assumption preschool. i remember arguing with mama pandora daily about my hairstyle - i wore a uniform even then - even though it always ended up including bright ribbons and/or barrettes (thanks mom). i remember scolding her for wearing shoulder pads, which i hated with a passion. i remember riding to school in the backseat singing along to "i will always love you" at the height of its popularity. my brothers, aged eight and thirteen, would always change her adult contemporary radio station to something a bit more youthful, and that's how i began my hip-hop journey.

mtv was on fairly often in the house, and i can still recall mama pandora, tsk-tsking about the hypersexualized music videos while i developed a deep appreciation for the body-conscious, boldly colored ensembles on display. i harbored this appreciation over time, and from about sixth grade to junior year, it erupted into a full-fledged obsession. though i always maintained my love for all music and fashion - this is the same period in which i really started fawning over the fifties - i remember longing for fitted caps and a jersey dress (shudder). my passion culminated in seriously contemplating becoming a b-girl with megan, and then my affinity came to an abrupt halt.

all of a sudden, hip-hop just wasn't doing it for me anymore. kanye was a beacon of light at that point, but jay-z had supposedly retired, and i felt that i'd successfully feigned enthusiasm for the fabolouses and trillvilles of the world for long enough. i moved on, knowing that i wanted something else from hip-hop, but not knowing exactly what. since then, i've come to something of a conclusion: i've never cared about street cred or battle wounds. keep the guns at home. i want to know about the kicks you've got on, and better yet, the kicks you'll be wearing tomorrow. black is safe. i want clashing prints and bright bright brights or i've already lost interest. i want caps to the side and copious amounts of gold. and the best part about this rediscovery of 1990's glory is that the revival is occurring all over the place, and not only just in my head. there's a crop of fresh females that totally embody this fierce boldness that i love, and though i've written about a few of them before, i never noticed the pattern. in any case, they're always getting more and more exposure, which means that maybe we'll see nikes and rope chains in the pages of vogue sometime soon (hah).


i've been hooked on m.i.a. since i saw her perform in brooklyn on late-night new york public television. her video for 'galang' was nothing less than an art and fashion showcase, and she's never failed to deliver since. i can never praise kid sister enough, and my love for her hit unprecedented levels once i saw her perform live (i'd dig up pictures of both ladies' concerts, but alas, my photos are all gone). "downtown's sweetheart" va$htie is the co-founder of the 1992 party, which i somehow managed to miss all summer long, though i still keep obsessive tabs on the upcoming dates, ready to jump on the fun wah when the time is right. hailing from varied corners of the globe, these women are like fly girls resurrected, and i can't get enough of them right now. which leads me, of course, to the topic of achieving this look..


i'm sad to report that while i had a pair of sunglasses similar to those neon wayfarer-ish beauties above, wear and tear broke them down before i even made it to kindergarten, let alone college. on the other hand, i'm delighted to report that i currently own a similar pair of black and white snakeskin shades, except thicker and more badass, courtesy of - get this - papa pandora, circa 1993. i've been frequenting this site in my search for the perfect pair of sneakers, reading up on limited edition jordans, air force ones, and converses, etc. i spent last year converting my guy friends to sneaker loving, but never got in on the fun myself. after that, a pair of interesting doorknockers and bright nail polish would satisfy my desire to be dope. it's important to me that i don't look like i'm wearing a costume (though i have dressed similarly for costumes on several occasions - pictures coming soon), instead incorporating punchy elements into my own daily style. until then, my quest for fresh continues.. onwards!

edit: why do i always forget to include a song of the day? here it is, an ode to my year of birth, courtesy of a couple of guys holding down the male end of the 90's revival.

[photo credits: google image search(1, 2, 3, 4, 5), va$htie's myspace, flynn & o'hara, 1992's myspace, m.i.a., m.i.a.'s myspace, smash vintage sunglasses, myairshoes.com, girlprops, wikipedia]

the presentation of self in everyday life

"the meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed." - carl jung
i think it's safe to say that carl was right about personality clashes. in fact, the only thing more reactionary* than the meeting of two personalities is the meeting of five. it was bound to happen with a bunch of females living together in relatively close quarters, but the residents of our room have been locking horns increasingly often during the first two months of this year. in order to address the growing drama, i suggested and suceeded in staging a "family meeting" to air grievances and hash out our differences. after several hours and some trying revelations, we all emerged smiling, our friendship stronger than before, but the best part of the meeting by far was our concluding remarks, where we each had to say what we love about each other. cheesy, yes, but a major self-esteem booster, nevertheless. while my suitemates all gave genuine compliments and anecdotes about me, i was caught off guard when blair praised my storytelling abilities.

according to her, i have a great gift for making even mundane stories come alive with my voice, mannerisms, and enthusiasm. she even flattered me by saying that she looks forward to hearing me speak and that i could be an actress. this observation was an immensely pleasant surprise. i'm no hermit, but i'm still terribly shy, have been all my life, so it's nice to know that my efforts at being outgoing, or small performances, are appreciated. then my thinking got really muddled, remembering an anthropology class i took in which we read erving goffman, and the train of thought was a bit heavy for a friday night, so i put it to rest, choosing instead to bask in the presence of my favorite girls.

a day or so after the family meeting, i received an email from the creative director of evie belle, a relatively new womenswear label out of london. all of my musings on characters and performance came rushing back, channeled so potently through the evie belle collection. everything, from the logo to the model to of course, the clothes themselves, weaves a definitive tale. and why not? if we're all acting on a daily basis, every time we interact with others, why not add sartorial credibility to the role? the narrative aspect of the label didn't come serendipitously to designer sairah hicks: since childhood, she's been "enchanted by the house of elliot," the 1920s setting of the tv show about a designer named evie.

the line's aw'08 collection maintains that vibe with unapologetically feminine, simple, and structured garments that really have me swooning. it strikes me as what this blog's unofficial mascot, louise brooks, would wear if you plucked her out of her era and placed her in 2008. yet the clothes refuse to be dated (i'm dying to stomp through new york city nights with that red hooded toggle coat and skinny pants). i love the fact that hicks doesn't shy away from a limited color palette, instead relying on the pieces themselves to pack a punch.
but wait - there's more! evie belle is "ethical and corporately kind brand," complete with local manufacturing, sustainable fabrics, fair-trade suppliers, and eco-conscious fashion shows. bottom line? evie belle is a role i'd love to play.

[photo credits: evie belle, google image search (1)]

p.s.: happy election day! i propose we all celebrate this day by well.. electing someone! vote!
p.p.s.: here's the song of the day - didn't want to get too political, so it's chock full of vague references to america and independence. hurrah!

[*a concerned anonymous commenter has graciously pointed out my misuse of the word 'reactionary'. in case this has caused any confusion, the word i meant to use was 'reactive'. on with the posts!