ANTISOCIOLOGY

///TINY///

2012-01-28T02:47:00.000-08:00

blue jean baby, L.A. lady

seamstress for the band

pretty eyed, pirate smile

you'll marry a music man

ballerina, you musta' seen her

dancin' in the sand

& now she's in me

always with me

tiny dancer in my hand

...

lookin' on, she sings the song

the words she knows

the tune she hums

...

but oh how it feels so real

lyin' here with no one near

only you & you can hear me

when i say softly, slowly

hold me closer tiny dancer

Photographs by various persons including Cameron Clark, Niassa MacKnight, Ixchel Lara, Jaime Luna, Imani Waddy.

///BIOPHILIA///

2012-01-27T06:29:00.000-08:00

"Welcome to Biophilia: the love for Nature in all her manifestations, from the tiniest organism to the greatest red giant floating in the farthest realm of the Universe. With biophilia comes a restless curiosity, an urge to investigate & discover the elusive places where we meet nature, where she plays on our senses with colors & forms, perfumes & smells. The taste & touch of salty wind on the tongue. But much of nature is hidden from us, that we can neither see nor touch, such as the one phenomena that can be said to move us more than any other in our daily lives--Sound. Sound harnessed by human beings delivered with generosity & emotion is what we call Music. & just as we use music to express parts of us that would otherwise be hidden, so too can we use technology to make visible much of nature's invisible world. In biophilia, you will experience how the three come together: nature, music, technology. Listen, Learn, & Create. Travel the cosmos lying at your fingertips, touch the galaxies & move through their three dimensions. Discover the different song apps as they are introduced into the constellations & explore their extra features. & should you feel lost in space, you can always use the musical compass icon to take you home. Now, forget the size of the human body, remember that you are a gateway between the universal & the microscopic. The unseen forces that stare the depths of your innermost being, & nature who embraces you & all there is. We are on the brink of a revolution that will reunite humans with nature through new technological innovations. Until we get there.. prepare, explore, Biophilia."

- Björk.

Hilther Hills, NY Sunrise 6:52am
Eric Cahan

all photographs & drawings by me (except the one captioned above) & all subjects by nature

..there was this reality of biophilia I experienced this past trip to the Philippines,

presented ever so clearly.

You can see it in my eyes as I feel it in my heart:

this new life, this new love, this new light*

///EMO///

2012-01-13T22:50:00.000-08:00

A bit of 4 a.m. free writing (rambling about I, I, I) on being inherently emo:

circa 2006? at the hippie hotel, on & in ecstasy, with a roomful of familiar strangers

Even after all those trips to the mountains then to the valleys, up to the sky then down to earth, even after plateauing into a mixed state of sober moderation & abstinence, & by doing so ridding of the extreme lows that so scared me, I still find that the emotion of sadness resonates with me most, & I believe it likely always will. This is not to be confused with something emo & pitiful but rather merely how it is. I feel as if the array of human emotions is comparable to drugs, & different people have their own personal preferences. Drug-wise, sure I did uppers, but I found downers, dissociatives, opiates, & psychedelics were more suited to my own persona. I could never feel comfortable while high on uppers, there was always this vague plaguing thought of paranoia, of disgust, this feeling of dirtiness, & a definite feeling of fakeness. It was never pleasant for me to feel too distant from who I was. I was never a loud, hyper, extroverted type, so to do drugs that promoted that wasn’t exactly fitting. I’d rather kick back, observe, listen. Adverse effects are what I experienced on uppers: instead of feeling like a superhero as others did, I felt small & insecure, awkward to a fault, & dreading the next hit. Everything besides uppers made me feel most at home: carefree, content, in love, in lust, & anticipating the next hit. Emotion-wise, sure I experience happiness & sure I can get pretty fucking angered at times but I find that sadness in particular is something characteristically me. Being happy is just not something I’ve become fully accustomed to feeling yet, though of course I don’t mind it, & being angry is something very fleetingly liberating then immediately tends to evoke feelings of guilt, remorse, & weakness. Books, films, & songs that make me want to cry torrentially or contemplate suicide are books, films, & songs I am drawn to & remember forever, they make me feel alive, that I’m not alone. When I used to get depressed really often, I could write for days & days & days, & every single piece would be of profound importance & an unparallelled skill. It’s not the same being happy & recording all the happy things I did in a day, it all seems so surface-based, & I'm used to digging deeper. I used to believe happiness was an effort to achieve & to be sad was our natural state. Now, looking back, I understand that it was much more difficult dealing with a seemingly helpless depression & being happy is so much easier. Or maybe I’m saying that sadness is easy to attain but hard to deal with, while happiness is hard to attain but easy to deal with.

///THEORY///

2011-12-12T03:13:00.000-08:00

Each year I seem to decrease the extent of my wardrobe by one color, & eventually I'll solely be dealing with achromatic schemes. That's just the tendency I wish to inch toward because I don't feel that fluorescent green spandex is a staple in a semi-maturing female's closet, but others' opinions may differ. I never thought I'd be such a fan of simplicity (considering my randomly-thrown-together-clashing-colors&patterns-candy-raver-ish history), but the moment Olivier Theyskens started working with Theory in 2010, his creations flipped a switch in my mind - simple designs with complex tailoring & the most unique, discreet details. They are basics with the thoughtfulness of couture injected into them, thus more fashionable yet still very versatile. The pre-fall 2012 collection consists of black on black on black with florals thrown in sparingly, within a balanced mix of dresses of varied lengths & pants from heavy to hot - precisely what I like. The casual, candid rebel attitude of the photographs makes the collection appeal to me even more, as well as the fact that he chose swedish Elsa Sylvan to model it, fiercely but softly. It is all very Elin Kling to me, which is actually. just. perfect.
/end of generic runway review.

Television photographs by Lee Friedlander. Walking photographs by Lisette Model.

///HALLOW///

2011-12-09T18:04:00.000-08:00

I hope an over-a-month late Halloween recap isn't too irrelevant. It was my first Halloween in Vegas as well as my first time sober in Vegas. I found out it's not as crazy as I remembered (or didn't remember), & it's more about the food than the partying now which defeats the purpose of all pre-Vegas dieting. Jacq & I went as whores of sorts, making me wish corsets were still a staple in a lady's daily attire despite my not being able to fill even an extra-small. As for heels, they're fucking unbearable when you're not drunk & high, especially at huge-ass Marquee which requires the perseverance of a long distance runwayer to tour the entire venue & the nonchalance of a sedated passive-aggressive to tolerate the rowdy inebriated & the overly-friendly ecstasy'd. Marquee sits in the Cosmopolitan, which is where we got a room with theee best view & theee best bathroom-to-wardrobe flow.

photographs by timothy laws & i.

///MIDNIGHT///

2011-11-30T06:10:00.000-08:00

I am not a chef. Which explains my photographic successes of dishes that are in actual fact culinary failures. Inspired by late night starvation (not an unusual occurrence), this burger was a dream in concept but sadly not in result: a beef patty topped with brie & cherry jam on a telera roll--totally undercooked. Chuck, however, is quite the chef. Which explains his keen volunteering to make bomb-ass midnight snacks while I'm busy studying on the opposite end of the loft. Inspired by Jose Andres' twenty vegetable fried rice, I was treated to a less intense but (I'm convinced) just as tasty version with ingredients consisting of green beans, bell peppers, zucchini, carrots, cherry tomatoes, cabbage, onion, garlic, & of course egg & rice.

///MEMOIR///

2011-11-29T19:42:00.000-08:00

& all the memories of the pubs
& the clubs & the drugs & the tubs
we shared together
stay with me forever
but all the highs & the lows
& the to's & the fro's
they left me dizzy
say you'll forgive me
i no longer hear the music

///LACMA///

2011-11-23T05:04:00.000-08:00

Last month I'd apparently forgotten one of my art history classes was an eight-week rather than sixteen-week course, & shortly before the final exam the sudden remembrance of a final project winded me. I pondered what extra credit assignments I could embark on to ensure a pleasing grade despite my last minute fate. Out of panic, I ended up visiting both CAFAM & LACMA which both lie on Wilshire just a few minutes' walk betwixt. Thanks to this class I now know about cute, dainty, little CAFAM & its gently psychedelic shop which literally boasts the very trinkets you've always wanted from all the places you've never been. As for LACMA, this trip revealed the museum in an entirely different light than past visits. Usually I'd just go & pay to see short-term exhibits of modern artists. This time I went to spend some time in the permanent, ancient art wings, free of cost. Concentrating on Ancient Near East, Egyptian, Greek, Roman, & Etruscan, whose artworks were impressive in quantity & quality alike, I easily stayed for a good four hours. The extra credit however was not in the extended length stayed nor in the fuckload of photographs taken but rather in the papers written surveying museum experiences as related to the class.

photographs by timothy laws & i

Drop

Earl Sweatshirt

///VELVET///

2011-11-19T12:17:00.000-08:00

I remember Topshop miniskirts ruling my high school wardrobe when Christina Aguilera's Dirrty music video was my one & only inspiration for nightly outings. It's pretty safe to say I own every single miniskirt they ever came out with from 2002-2005. I remember buying four pairs of heels from Topshop a couple years back & expressing my distress aloud knowing I was only buying them for the sake of buying them. Lo & behold, I actually wore two of the four pairs! ..albeit once each. Now I'm foreseeing the future wherein I remember buying three pairs of these luxury velvet platforms & only ever wearing the black ones because the other colors were just a novelty purchase. Speaking of velvet, I remember being properly introduced to the Velvet Underground by one of my snowboarder ex-boyfriends & listening to them during every car ride (along with Bob Dylan, Pete Doherty, Johnny Thunders, &.. you get the picture). I remember Pale Blue Eyes on loop being the perfectly pleasant soundtrack to my smoking tar for the first time, after which I promised myself never to smoke that amazingly blissful shit again.

& I never did.

thought of you as my mountain top
thought of you as my peak
thought of you as everything
i've had but couldn't keep
i've had but couldn't keep

Footwear by Topshop.
Photowear by Ixchel Lara.

Last Rays of Light 2010

Luxury velvet platforms 116.00 - Vava velvet pom pom flats 56.00

Building My Future Dreams 2011

Luxury velvet platforms 116.00 - Vava velvet pom pom flats 56.00

After the Rain 2010

Topshop Luxury velvet platforms 116.00 - Vava velvet pom pom flats 56.00

Power 2011

///SINO///

2011-11-19T10:33:00.000-08:00

Cannot wait to go home.

White shores, shops aplenty, southeast sunshine, family &.. celebration!
Shockingly I've finally left behind my impulsive & dire need to get away from LA & toward the Philippines every two months. Once a year is what I've cut it down to now, keeping my productivity pace at a steady plateau (which ideally will rise gradually as time progresses) instead of zigzagging extremities. I predict LA being my base for a while to come, but home will strangely always be Manila.

Calvin Klein Bromley 21 inch 200.00 - 25 inch 260.00 - 29 inch 300.00

Hiro - John Pfahl

Kristian Schuller

///COCONOA///

2011-11-16T17:48:00.000-08:00

Whilst browsing various models' websites for biography format research (favor for a friend), I caught my first sighting of the Coco Rocha for Senhoa pieces. Myself, like Ms. Rocha, having a taste for all things glamorously punk, I instantly coveted the entire collection. & after watching the video & reading the article by UK Telegraph explaining the cause for which Senhoa & Coco created the jewelry, I coveted the collection moreso, & not only coveted it but supported it wholeheartedly as I too find home in a country along similar sufferings as Cambodia. I've always yearned to see all these South East Asian countries, dystopian in politics yet utopian in nature, conquer their tribulations slowly but surely & most of all: flourish--& Senhoa is contributing toward exactly that. Though sad to see the Chantha bracelet sold out as I wished to own that the most (as well as the breathtaking Rachany), I am at the same time incredibly thrilled to see it sold out as that means people are in solidarity with Senhoa & Coco against the maltreatment of these precious Cambodian girls.

Meaning "lotus flower" in Vietnamese, Senhoa symbolizes the conquest of something beautiful rising above a muddy situation. Senhoa works toward helping women & children in Cambodia get out of & rise above lives & histories of abuse, trafficking, & exploitation. All proceeds go directly to funding Senhoa's providing shelter, education, & employment to these victims. The collaboration collection with supermodel Coco Rocha combines Swarovski crystals with the meticulous beading skills of Cambodian survivors to create the perfect fusion of fashion & humanitarianism.

Rachany "night" 995.00

Sophorn "glamour" 165.00

Chantrea "moonlight" 195.00

Chantha "moon girl" 95.00

///FALL///

2011-11-15T15:35:00.000-08:00

Occasionally (& by occasionally I mean really quite often), I'll experience these strange coincidences which could emphasize my oneness with the world if I were a shroomed out hippie, but I'm not ..anymore. 1. Listening to a random station on Pandora & hearing a dope track I've never heard before then simultaneously opening up another window & looking at a random blog I've never visited before to discover at the end of the second post a Vimeo video featuring the exact same track. 2. Driving around talking to someone in the passenger seat about a very specific topic & stopping at a traffic light then looking a couple cars ahead to see a huge advertisement on the back of a bus displaying the exact same topic. 3. Thinking of items I'd like to own for Fall then going through songs that could possibly parallel: Al Green? Nah. Patti Smith? Nah. Lykke Li? Sure. Coincidentally & perfectly causing everything to fall exactly into place: a Fall outfit with Let It Fall in a post entitled Fall.
Is this phenomenon loosely something to do with the law of attraction? Or perhaps some strain of déjà vu?

Around about this time last year, I was wearing pretty much the same shit--blacks & boots; neutrals & knee-highs; leathers, pleathers, furs, & fauxs--& I wrote matter-of-factly: when the fall won, the winter fell.

Topshop quilted biker jacket 118.00

UNIF sex shirt 54.00

R-13 zip skinny 275.00

H&M lace shorts 17.95 - Current/Elliot The Stiletto 198.00

UNIF Hellraisers 165.00

American Apparel sheer solid knee-high 12.00 - opaque over-the-knee 13.00 - sheer luxe over-the-knee 12.00

Steve Madden Noahh 149.95

Haute Hippie self-fringe skirt 325.00 - Alice and Olivia pleated leather skirt 396.00

Acne skirt with slit 300.00 - Helmut Lang layer skirt 230.00

Topshop contrast stitch jumper 80.00

Topshop fur bomber 110.00

Let It Fall
Lykke Li

///BACON///

2011-11-09T20:50:00.000-08:00

My last iPhone was stolen the night of my birthday at The Roxy last year. I recall obscure details such as Travis Barker drumming away in the same manner my brother would in the damp corner room of our Auckland house in 2005. I recall myself, shivering, watching in awe with hands dug into the shallow pockets of a beige trenchcoat. The fact is, the phone was likely not stolen, it probably fell out of my pocket in the boozed up, junked out frenzy that might've come over me a tad past midnight. Upon phone-less realization at approximately seven in the morning, I immediately went online to report it stolen, suspend the service, & order a new phone. I ordered a Blackberry which was only attractive to me because of its white leather exterior. Unsurprisingly, it turned out to be everything I never wanted, but I was to be contractly bound to it for the next two years. I dropped it accidentally-on-purpose innumerable times, threw it against many a brick & concrete wall, chucked it across the length of my living room into the kitchen in several frustrated furies, & after about a year & a half of that, it ceased to start up. Jacq kindly lent me a circa 1991 or something Nokia which has actually sufficed just fine. Who needs internet at their hands 24/7/365 anyway? It's been quite pleasant going out to socialize with friends & actually talking rather than us sitting in silence messing with our phones the entire time. However, to answer the question: I need internet at my hands 24/7/365 (read: at-hand navigation because I still get fucking lost in LA even after having lived here for five years + in-car Pandora/Spotify + on-the-go Skype/chat). &, seeing as my two-year contract is up, I'm due for a "discounted" upgrade, so I'm purchasing an iPhone 4S.

Here are some leather cases to consider.. some ridiculous, some not so much.

& paintings by my personal most admired portraitist of the twentieth century: Francis Bacon.

me + iPhone 3G
2010

Graphic Image Personalized case in white gold 38.50

Valextra sleeves 170.00

Self Portrait
1973

Pipetto for Harvey Nichols Luxury Snakeskins £79.99

Sena Ultraslims 29.99

Self Portrait
1973

Sena Ultraslims 29.99

Case-Mate Swarovski Crystals 48.00

Self Portrait
1969

Barneys New York 55.00 - Sena Culcha 39.95 - Balenciaga Arena Classic 265.00

Self Portrait
1971

Glory Box

Portishead

///SLITHE///

2011-11-08T15:02:00.000-08:00

Flats I'm considering (my Toms rip-offs just ain't cutting it anymore).

Photography by Guido Mocafico.

Jeffrey Campbell Elegant shoe in cheetah/studs 170.00

Matiko Lee flat in black 126.00

Matiko Lee flat in green 92.00

Dolce Vita Marcela loafer in turquoise 64.95

Matiko Lilo flat in white 84.00

Dolce Vita Marcela loafer in natural 64.95

///WESTON///

2011-11-08T01:58:00.000-08:00

Humans as still life & still lifes as human.

Charis & capsicums as portrayed by Edward Weston 1925-1937.

///VIBE///

2011-11-06T02:13:00.000-08:00

Art by Anish Kapoor.

Fashion by Zara.

cartwheel hat 49.90 - sweater 25.99 - animal print shorts 39.90

studded shirt 49.90 - dress with tulle sleeves 39.90

shirt with bow 49.90 - snake print dress 59.90

leopard coat 99.90 - rock t-shirt 19.90

metallic skirt 39.90 - parka with hood 159.90 - metallic trousers 59.90

studio shirt 99.90 - crossover coat 169.00

cable-stitched sweater 79.90 - sequinned miniskirt 129.90 - sahariana with leather sleeves 129.00

Teenage Kicks

Nouvelle Vague

///ALEXANDRIA///

2011-11-05T21:53:00.000-07:00

Spent another cherishable weekday with Ixchel a few weeks back. It's as if we're always consciously making up for the weeks between by squeezing as much as we can into a single day & night. We knocked on an old hotel door answered by a Great Dane that made me feel like a dwarf in Wonderland the whole time, barely balanced on rooftop edges, climbed through ancient Downtown ruins uncovering secret boxing gyms slash ideal photographic scenes, fiddled with new makeup palettes brushing peacock feather colorways across our lids, moseyed our way over to the divebar getting the empty dancefloor started (to a playlist consisting of 90s r&b jams along the lines of Too Close by Next) & taking photobooth flicks as per tradition, retired to my loft to do henna semi-deliriously till four in the morning, then drove alternating between napping eyes down the creepily narrow & winding 110 freeway discussing plans for future weekday 3am trysts (seeing as the two of us are the rare beings consistently awake at that hour).

Photos by moi, Ixchel Lara, & Sye Williams.

///BLUE///

2011-10-20T05:29:00.001-07:00

for the colder half:

a neutral midnight palette with specks of brass or gold,

as stars in the near-pitch night.

my eyes will shine as they do,

& they'll drip just the same.

almost blue

almost doing things we used to do

there's a girl here & she's almost you

almost

Theyskens' Theory small calf hair messenger bag 845.00

3.1 Phillip Lim lynus mini envelope bag 595.00

Vlieger & Vandam gun clutch 297.00

Zara leather messenger bag 49.90

Proenza Schouler medium PS1 1595.00

Ixchel Lara

Almost Blue

Chet Baker

///DESTROYED///

2011-10-05T00:35:00.000-07:00

Culver City's art district has accumulated many a white-walled gallery, and among them is Kopeikin. Ascending the humble staircase out front, I leave the rush hour chaos behind and enter a fresh world of photography. I am the only patron at this late afternoon hour on an uneventful weekday, completely unaware that Moby is a photographer, and the exhibit will inevitably open my eyes to this previously enigmatic side of the multitalented artist.

Stepping into the Moby section, I am immediately comforted with a feeling of warm invitation from the crowds congregating across the lengths of the room. The right side is covered with swarms of music fans, split up and clustered into photographs of arbitrary size. The left side comes across as more collected; five pieces lined up horizontally with the centermost being the largest and, employing hierarchy of scale, most important. This particular photograph seems to be the only one in the exhibit that strays from the all-around theme of fervent crowds on tour.

The photographs themselves and the environment they create within the gallery seem to play on competing feelings--togetherness versus loneliness, being attended to versus being unattended, being supported enthusiastically versus being solitarily destroyed--translating precisely the album’s reflections of the strangeness of being on tour but in photographs rather than songs. Full concerts and feelings of disconcertion are juxtaposed. Lonesome me in an empty room with crowds of people around me cheering in unison is comparable to what Moby was trying to achieve: the stark contrast between the barren dressing rooms, hotel rooms, and airports and the energetic, loving, jam-packed crowds seen from onstage.

The album is a defining of Moby's thoughts while on tour aurally, catering to the ears;

while the photography is a defining of those same thoughts visually, catering to the eyes.

///MISCELLANEA///

2011-10-04T22:58:00.000-07:00

1. What I managed to scavenge from the remains of the Missoni x Target collection: makeup bags.

2. Zara satchel + Thelonious Monk vinyl + Lette macarons (La Provence still reigns supreme with its chew factor).

3. Medium-rare steak that Chuck taught me how to cook perfectly over the phone. I was never a fan of steak until I realized I'd been ordering it wrongly well-done my whole life.

4. A Brandon Francis painting I acquired circa 2009. I was pretty wasted when I bought it, but I see how it was relevant: scarved & sickly for the fall, on a tightrope living on the edge, in the sky floating the days away, with baby blue atmospheric conditions. Currently on display in my bedroom, way up high.

Notorious D.O.M.
Dom Kennedy

///WHENSDAY///

2011-10-04T22:29:00.000-07:00

Tim handled the camera jubilantly, realizing Downtown details that usually went unnoticed, while Jacqui & I led the way, navigating our way around with my leatherbound GPS & not getting very far at all--from 7th to 12th & Spring to Main adding up to about six blocks at most. The original plan went to rubbish due to my typically horrible time management, having left the tattoo shop much too late to make it to Kopeikin in time & plan B's LACMA apparently is closed every Wednesday. Such convenience. But hey, at least I'm getting this tramp stamp covered up once & for all--it went from tiny to medium & soon to be large. The homie Codak is sketching it out & will be practicing his newfound inking skills on me as well. Hunger struck so we hit up Cole's for some lamb french dips with goat cheese. The juices even trickled down my forearm which I'm assuming is the sign of a proper french dip sandwich. Groundfloor Cafe was the final stop before heading home to my textbooks: decent coffee, spacious layout, modern art & classy decor, iPad cashier, average but aesthetic macarons, plus daily déjeuner specials for early birds. Very possibly a new solitary study spot for me.

Sympathique

Pink Martini

///PASTENSE///

2011-09-27T04:25:00.000-07:00

The other day I re-employed an old moleskine to scribble in the homework of antiquity's art & architecture. Flipping through with a weary hand, searching for an empty space to write, my memory reminisced long-gone travel plans, my senses revisited drug reminders in the form of weak encryptions, my eyes recalled speed-sketches of potential outfits, my wallet resented casual calculations (how to pay these bills with this balance while still buying these things), my brain remembered old enumerations of miscellanea--stores, songs, symbolic artworks--my heart resurfaced old feelings that I probably would rather not've felt again. Usually I burn (literally or figuratively) depressing historical records, but I suppose it is quite liberating to know of the shit I used to go through, the misery I used to feel, and that I no longer suffer in that way. So I'll keep this, as a reminder of me: one & half years ago. I don't even remember writing this disjointed mess, for obvious substance-tial reasons (high as fuck & slightly drunk), but here goes the abridged version:

May 16th, 2010

Brand new Bose noise cancelling headphones on, sitting up in Philippine Airlines Economy class shit. I'd much rather fly Virgin America or, better yet, Singapore or Emirates. But, at this point, the shittiness of PAL Economy seats hasn't quite hit me as I've already popped twenty Valiums & downed a beer plus a touch of caffeine via English Breakfast tea. I slept for a few good hours I'm guessing, listening to N.E.R.D.'s In Search Of... on repeat. Then I woke, saw that everyone else was mid-meal. One of the stewardesses with the dope oversized PAL scarf-bow approaches me ever-so genially [as they do]

& asks me if I would like my meal now. I kindly tell her I'll just have a cup of tea & a beer. Down the beer while I wait for the tea to cool down; I abhor burning my tongue. & then I go through the very inadequate-but-will-do music collection of the mini touchscreen in front of me & add some Diana Krall, Taylor Swift [no joke], new Timbaland, Rolling Stones, Regina Spektor, Feist, Black Lips, Lady Gaga, & Prince to my Playlist. Now I'm wondering if I should order another beer.. Hmm. & then I'm wondering whythefuck this pen is leaking all over my left hand & the fucking table when I'm actually writing with my right.

I found a note, well three separate notes stuck in the back pocket of this Moleskine book. They were written on one of the PAL emergency vomit bags. I often use those for writing on planes cos I usually forget any type of paper or little black books of my own. The last time I wrote in this fucker was last April [2009] when I had just arrived in Barcelona; Europe for my very first time, & I felt the need to write about the awkward feeling I felt being there. So anyway, back to the emergency vomit bag notes.. I read them over, each twice. I wanted to cry,

but I'm sick of crying on airplanes. I'll save that for the flights back to LA; my home away from home that often is akin to Hell. I won't lie. Flights toward Manila, I either feel neutral or scared. Scared to overdose. Always. Even though as of lately I've been trying to do the aforementioned several times. But the comas were only short-term & friends always make things better. & I honestly don't know why they care about my mess-of-a-gal ass anyway. Whatevs, I just need to be thankful that people do actually care & keep that in mind at all times. I'm still freaking out like godknowswhat about admitting to my parents the true extent

of my suicidal thoughts. It's hot as fuck in Manila right now so of course I can't go rockin' long sleeves everyday to hide the scars. I told my parents, whom I've not seen in four months, that what I will tell them will break their hearts. I have the hugest heart ever, & personally I find it to be a flaw. I care too much about others. One cannot be selfless all the time, it's just not healthy. Utter selfishness is healthy neither, but it really is necessary at times--solitude. I feel like LA people are incapable of grasping this concept even the tiniest bit.

They seem to have this addiction to always having to be social & surrounded by others. Though it may seem otherwise most of the time, I really do enjoy & furthermore savor those few moments I can get alone. I'm looking at my wrist, the cuts are horizontal but I was way too close to vertical one too many times last week. &, at that point, I really didn't give a fuck because my plan was to use the blood to write on my wall: I AM A FUCK UP. Then just lie & fall deeper & deeper till I could fall no more.

I hope I get better..

How cheesy was that ending?

A year & a half later: I'm beyond better & much less emo.

Playground Love

Air

///LUCAS///

2011-09-13T23:56:00.000-07:00

I slap you because it makes me feel good. I punch you because you deserve it.

I burn you because you don't give me enough money. I mutilate you so you

won't feel any pleasure. I want you to have my babies, because it shows how

powerful and manly I am, and you want to do it because that is all you're

good for.

It doesn't have to be some left-wing movement. It's really just a matter of observation & experience, & translating that with a pen onto paper. It's a stating of facts that makes people aware. It doesn't have to provoke judgment. But that is not to say emotions, in disgust or agreement, may be gutted from within & evinced.
So tell me, if you feel, what do you feel?

Photo Transformation #6469
1976

1976 /// 1978

Split (blade and feet) /// Photo-transformation
1973 /// 1976

It seems I've a soft spot for photographers by the name of Lucas or ///LUKAS///.

Quote by Barbara Kruger.

Art by Lucas Samaras.

Mistakes by me.

Inside

Bang Gang

///STORIES///

2011-09-10T09:04:00.000-07:00

a fragile harshness

an agile art

in gears in fears

to stop again, to start

it's dark where you turn

but shines on my turn

it builds, it spins

it yields & i flinch

i've got it - inch by inch

by foot - my feet, my neck

forward, still, not yet

now moving, calm, i'm set

machinery & elegance

now kept

gears from graciela
TIRANA

///PAINT///

2011-09-08T02:42:00.000-07:00

Who needs Photoshop when there's good oldskool Paint?
Sure it oftentimes compromises the quality of photos, but who's really paying attention to your pixels?
Everyone.

..the art I accomplish when procrastinating reading historical textbooks:

I should probably cut down on all that bread, pasta, tortilla, & rice I consume obsessively. My jawline is losing definition, I look like a toddler.

Nueva Guajira

Botaz

///DAYSGONE///

2011-09-07T01:44:00.000-07:00

i listen as the walls cave in

i'm hangin' on cos your memory's thin

ooh, i lost my grip

i balance it on a piece of paper

...

i've got a house & an eternal frown

painted walls & letters upside down

i try to hold on, i try to hold on but you're gone

& i try to let go but your memory's still on

...

Parks, reserves, & memories around LA - taken August 2011.

Crystalfilm

Little Dragon

horrible copy, click here for better version

///BLUEWAVE///

2011-09-05T14:18:00.000-07:00

I've been in body-rolling, sing-a-along love with Nico for the past week or so. Attempting to make everyone precious I know listen to his bluewave edits like I'm his PR crew or some shit. The week preceding Nico week was my Katy week, & not Perry this time. Her Go Away track was too relevant to even describe. I am thrilled to say music has made a comeback in my life after a year-long humdrum. It's back & affecting my every mood & move; inspiring the good & easing the bad.

2008
Otto Ferraren

Go Away

Katy B

///3.1///

2011-09-04T23:36:00.000-07:00

I don't believe I've ever spent more than $500 on any single fashion item, but damn i want this bag. It's my perfect match--besides the fact that it probably won't hold much at all--it's bright with a splash of dark or dark with a splash of bright, which is basically my personality reflected in bag form. Its versatile design will cater to my ever-fickle moods/outfits: double strap or single strap; shoulder bag, wristlet, or clutch; fur attached or fur dangling. My justification is done here.

Featuring artworks by Zhang Lin Hai

& the 3.1 Phillip Lim lynus mini envelope bag 595.00

CMYK
James Blake

///GRILL///

2011-09-04T19:38:00.000-07:00

Another example of fashion repeating:

"The warrior's teeth are silver, and his lower lip is copper."

The lil ones teeth are diamond, and their lower lips is fat.

I don't care what you think about this song & the fact that Lil' Wayne is SINGING, but this video gives me the chills & I can appreciate the theme.

///AHIS52///

2011-08-30T04:16:00.000-07:00

The first day of Fall semester fell yesterday. All my classes are online, & I'm a complete virgin. Though I'm assuming [& hoping] online classes will be more suitable for a gal like me who, on-campus, has the tendency to sit in the very back of the classroom, not say a word, & make the hugest effort to be absent for every single presentation day. Video lectures, emailing assignments, & online discussions will be natural adjustments seeing as that's pretty much what I do on Gmail, Facebook, Skype, & AIM everyday anyway. & I figure since it's online, I can be a complete douche bag/teacher's pet & say whatever lameness I want without feeling completely embarrassed. My personal intro to my History of Photography class went something like this:

My name's [Alaïa], raised somewhat internationally in ______, ______, and ______, but I'm now in ______ and have been for the past five years. I've changed schools as often as I've changed majors and that number is countless. From ______ to ______ to ______ to ______ to ______ to ______ to ______ I've dabbled a little in all of them mostly out of teenage/early-twenties confusion. Currently (and hopefully finally), I'm looking to focus my studies on ______, ______, and ______ in order to create an ideal career for myself that combines all three. I've always been intrigued by and excited about art and been drawn moreso to the artist crowd than any other. I interned at an art gallery last year in ______ which exhibited mainly paint and print works in the "pop urban" category, which was a very informative and stimulating experience. As for photography specifically, I've always enjoyed documenting my life's events, but only in the past few years have I really started paying attention to composition and the minute details of what I was actually capturing. In the past I would just take random flicks without any real effort or care, and in the end I'd look back at them and they'd lack a deeper story. When I view photographs, I merely know what I do and do not like, sometimes I'll know how a certain photograph or series of photographs makes me feel.. But in taking this course, I am hoping to form a more well-informed and legitimate critique about others' and my own photographic work by learning about the history and evolution of photography.

///BLEACH2///

2011-08-30T03:25:00.000-07:00

Session Two.

Aveda Blue Malva & Kerastase Chroma Riche better work their aftercare magic,

because I have to wait at least a week to tone this zoo orange down with an ash colored dye.

I guess it's hats & hairties for the next seven to ten days..

///KEEP///

2011-08-21T19:12:00.000-07:00

Grave steps made of midnight steel, harsh and cold on the heels. Gathers of dust migrating obediently to each side make centerway for dark hour sojourn. She clambers up the short staircase, ripe for the day's retirement, sliding out of a scarcely soiled frock, then shuffling in slow motion beneath the duvet till she feels at home. As if by appointment the moonlight rolls in, heavily, softly. A luminous silkened blanket unraveling gracefully upon the comfort of her tiresome bed, hatching shadowed friends performing pirouettes that glisten with each ensuing twirl. The city's sky hides its stars selfishly, so she shuts her eyes with a dreamish lust & sees far more than the city could keep.

///GELLHORN///

2011-08-19T14:36:00.000-07:00

"All is well. No purdah, no chains, no scenes, no one shooting out the living room windows. Times are different now."

screenshots from Spirited Away

///BLEACH1///

2011-08-18T02:09:00.000-07:00

Session One.

..then wait a week for Session Two.

I just adoreee the brassiness black hair gives when bleached. ...
Thank goodness for the naturally existing blue malva flower that supposedly neutralizes brassy tones, my Aveda shampoo is on the way! Sincerely hoping all the reviews I read are legit, because it only came in a whopping ONE LITER bottle, unnecessarily three times the size of any regular shampoo.

Stella Im Hultberg

What I Got

Sublime

there doesn't seem to be a shortage of horrendous covers of this song on soundcloud. kind of makes me wanna take a stab at it, i can't possibly be in the bottom ten percent.. or can i...

///GONE///

2011-08-17T00:26:00.000-07:00

The dizzying effects of heavy insomniac eyelids & self-caging have caused me to lose all concept of time, likely inducing this unusually inflated need for a watch. I know neither the day nor the date these days, a watch would be helpful in informing me of both. However, I can't afford one at the moment, but some gear pieces from Tirana Jewelry could possibly suffice in the meantime (for only $29 less).

Clockwise from top: Gears Necklace 196.00 - Geo Duke Pendant 196.00 - Small Watch Ring 170.00 - Large Layton 225.00

I'm not sure whether I'd feel free or lost if I lived a life truly devoid of time.

Deep within the Amazon rainforest of Brazil exists the Amondawa tribe. They live not according to man's seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, years, but instead in tune with nature's days, nights, rainy seasons, dry seasons. No one in the tribe has an age, they mark stages of growth with name-changes; toddlers give up their names to newborns & so on. Deadlines are unknown, they are free of the pressures of time. They also do not know the concepts of 'past' or 'future,' so does that mean they are incapable of dwelling on the past or having anxieties about the future? I'd feel damn free.

Twilight Zone
Manhattan Transfer
i would always request this song in the car as a child & trip out with the bass turned right up

///MISSONI///

2011-08-16T22:12:00.000-07:00

The vibrant psychedelic weaves of Missoni have always tempted my senses. Season after season, out flow the most sublime mélanges of color. & though beautiful, my eye has always convinced me that Missoni is too much color for a girl like me to wear elegantly rather than just looking like a candy raver. I could never picture myself donning anything larger than a small accessory from their collections such as a bikini or a headscarf (not that I even have the odd $400 to spare). Crazily enough, Missoni is joining in the long line of "for Target" collaborators, & perhaps now I'll challenge myself to experiment with their kaleidoscopic pieces without having to compromise my food money. I'm foreseeing pairings of Missoni knits with tan/camel/khaki items, & hopefully a loft redecorated to look somewhat like Hotel Missoni Kuwait. That is, if the stock isn't sold out by the time I get there.

The Missoni for Target collection premieres September thirteenth in-store & online.

Comment Te Dire Adieu
Françoise Hardy

///HEARTBEATS///

2011-08-14T00:51:00.000-07:00

///1977///

2011-08-13T22:44:00.000-07:00

Little Black Book
2004

RIP
nobody does it better

///NANCY///

2011-08-08T11:46:00.000-07:00

For my memory.

Thanks to rhgriner, fredfades, & kanoba. In that order.

///CRIPPLE///

2011-08-05T05:57:00.000-07:00

Only managed to take a couple of dull-ish photos around my loft the past two months because I've chosen the ANTISOCIAL route (typical) of getting through this crippling foot surgery: avoiding in-person social contact at the majority of costs. For the past eight weeks or so, my life has been as follows:

Attempting to shift around furniture whilst hopping on my now-buffer-than-ever-before right leg with my left leg bent at a perfectly ninety degree angle. Mostly just a framed Ol' Dirty Bastard & a humbling Pandora One to keep me from loneliness & instead transport me into a commendable solitude. Opening & closing wooden blinds to alternate between fresh & stale air as my ficklemindedness decides to smoke then not to smoke, to smoke then not to smoke, to smoke then not to smoke. Old nocturnal habits returning causing me to witness dawn with the heaviest of lids & wake just in time to welcome dusk. A neverending reel of Netflix instant watches & those distinct fire engine red envelopes greeting my mailbox every other day. Lights & shadows, literally & figuratively.

///CALILA///

2011-08-05T05:21:00.000-07:00

California Soul

///CONVERT///

2011-08-04T17:45:00.000-07:00

Crazy over this new convertible collaborative collection by MM6 Maison Martin Margiela & Opening Ceremony
&
United Visual Artists' light installation for the Y-3 A/W 2010 NYFW show:

v-neck button down w/ combo sleeve 530.00

knit sleeve button down w/ vest 895.00

///DIEUHR///

2011-08-03T13:19:00.000-07:00

For a philosophy paper at the University of Auckland (which I half-ass attended in 2005), I recall trying to theorize a new idea behind our existence. My tentative theory was to be that God was not our creator but indeed Time was (simply because I didn't want to be the same as all my classmates & argue for the existence of God). The more I thought about it & attempted to make sense of it, the more increasingly abstract my theory became. A couple sleepless nights & hundreds of illegible penciled notes across miscellaneous philosophical readings later.. I gave up. This theory needed much longer than a two week college deadline to fully create, understand, grasp, & clarify. Of course, the irony: I ran out of time to write about Time.

I also recall, around about the same time, Myspace was inviting users to create their very own url. Still obsessing over time theories & just the general idea of Time, combined with being an unusual fan of the German language & the French designer Christian Dior, I came up with: http://www.myspace.com/dieuhr (which no longer directs to my profile for some annoying reason). Die Uhr is German for 'the clock,' which when pronounced happens to sound just like Dior.

Salvador Dalí on the cover of TIME Magazine Dec. 14, 1936

Swatch full-blooded skull in black & white 170.00

In Voluptas Mors (1951)
Philippe Halsman & Salvador Dalí

My Uniform Wares choices for the clan:

300 Series Chronograph in brushed/walnut brown 805.00 - 150 Series Slim in cream 270.00 - 200 Series in dark grey/tan brown & brushed/cherry red 360.00

The Persistence of Memory (1932)
Salvador Dalí

///OUTER///

2011-08-03T11:50:00.000-07:00

"Window shopping" is an activity that shoppers engage in by browsing shops with no intent to purchase,
possibly just to pass the time between other activities, or to plan a later purchase.
- Wikipedia.

Artwork & sound from Augustine Kofie.

Jackets & coats I cannot afford from La Garçonne.

Infrastructure in Development [2009]

Alexander Wang linen burlap jacket 262.00 - Thakoon cropped a-line trench 745.00

Blind Enamel Spray [2010]

3.1 Phillip Lim leather jacket w/ trench collar 497.50

The Engine live art [2010]

Vanessa Bruno doubleface cashmere jacket 534.90 - R13 jean jacket 197.50

The Indoor Mural Project [2011]

RamWalkman

4x4Tracktor

///DARK///

2011-08-02T04:38:00.000-07:00

& in my nocturnal spare time..

My skin might possibly be lightening from lack of sun exposure & my eyes becoming larger from straining to see well during these dark hours. I hope to make this fucked up bodyclock my eternal beauty secret to be passed down from generation to generation, indefnitely. It's doing wonders for my [anti]social life!
Perhaps I'll become part of the genera Leopardus, Tarsus, or Dasypus come next year.
Nocturnal creatures are exceptionally gorgeous, wouldn't you agree:

margay

oncilla

ocelot

EchOther (Shud.Be)

Κ Λ Π O B Λ

///WSUP///

2011-08-01T22:52:00.000-07:00

Freedom

Fortitude

Fix

Forward

[images pulled from Battalion Armour]

///MOREOVER///

2011-08-01T07:42:00.000-07:00

different takes, different times

jump on the bandwagon

225.00

195.00

250.00

195.00

///MANFREDI///

2011-08-01T05:35:00.000-07:00

The draping, scalloping, fringing, & zipping of Topshop

The immersing, sagging, burning, & blowing of Kim Manfredi

hubble deep field
Kim Manfredi 2008

embroidered dress190.00 - pink peony print sheer panel crop top 90.00 - moto blue scalloped hotpants 90.00 - ornate suede circle bag 66.00

centaurus A
Kim Manfredi 2009

cream daisy embroidered cape blouse 100.00 - black suede maxi length fringed slouchy bag 150.00

save my world (detail)
Kim Manfredi 2010

black washed zip pocket rucksack 56.00 - tan contrast pocket tassel chain strap bag 90.00 - psychic studded black ankle boots 245.00

attraction and repulsion (detail)
Kim Manfredi 2010

Sunshine of Your Love
Cream

///LACHRYMOSE///

2011-08-01T01:08:00.000-07:00

I always found it easy to cry for others' pain or for the pain I caused others; to cry selflessly.

But to cry selfishly over pain I felt within myself, I mean, to really cry?

I've never done so as much as I have this past month.

& as much as it hurts, I think it was needed.

& I can begin to move on now.

Slowly but surely.

Audrey Kawasaki

It is somehow liberating, as if getting rid of something emotionally hurtful

by physical, permanent means. Each tear dropped means one less painful memory to remember.

how many times can it escalate
till it elevates to a place i can't breathe

//////

2011-07-31T01:47:00.000-07:00

///INSTANT///

2011-07-29T08:55:00.000-07:00

I'm going to try this new thing called delayed gratification. Most people these days probably aren't very familiar with it (thanks to the instant nature of evolved technology), but I believe it is indeed a very beneficial trait to have. After all, most people won't always have the luxury of getting everything they want whenever they want. It is good to earn rewards, as opposed to just getting them the moment you ask. It can be good to be told/tell yourself "no" sometimes.

Well, all this only actually dawned on me now to be honest, but I have officially been converted!

Every time I want to speed while driving, I will wait two seconds & see if I really need to.

Every time I want to throw an angry tantrum, I will wait two minutes & see if I'm still angry.

Every time I want to eat in between meals, I will wait two hours & see if I'm still hungry.

Every time I feel the irrational urge to go on Facebook, I will wait two days & see if it's faded.

Every time I want to buy something unnecessary*, I will wait two weeks & see if I still like it.

Every time I want to change majors, I will wait two months & see if I still want to.

Every time I want to fly back to Manila, I will wait two semesters & see if I still miss it.

Every time I want to move apartments, I will wait two years & see if I still feel like moving.

*something unnecessary: not food, water, gas, bills, rent, ( cigarettes), (coffee).

It's so easy to just diagnose myself with "A.D.D." & use that as a crutch for why I am the way I am, why I do the things I do. I feel like everyone seems to claim A.D.D. these days, but there's just so much being thrown at us, so much going on, of course we're having trouble paying attention to one thing at a time & wanting to do everything at once, immediately! The truth is, most things will always be there waiting, so there's no real need to rush. We've become this whole generation whose condition it is to be instantly gratified. & I've been molded into this intensely needy, bratty, volatile freak. Kiiinda wanna change that.

This is going to be quite the challenge, but I'm so down I'm up for it.

///ANYWHERE///

2011-07-29T04:57:00.000-07:00

The books, films, & music I enjoy are the ones I can relate to; the ones I see a reflection of myself in, distorted or exact. My personal phenomenon, though, is that I can always remember whether or not I enjoyed a film or a book, but I cannot, for the life of me, remember the story line. Or perhaps I trick myself into thinking so in avoidance, because I'm so horrible at storytelling.

A film I remember enjoying as a teenager:

sometimes i just couldn't stand her. sometimes i hated her. sometimes i thought she was ruining my life.

what kept me going, is knowing that one day i would leave her.

Strange to think that teenage girls develop, almost inevitably, such a confident hate towards the woman that brought them to life in the first place. Perhaps it is the presence of fresh pubescent estrogen battling the old-timer for a place in the spotlight, & the war cools down as maturities harmonize with time. Who knows. I know I felt the exact same way Ann did pretty much all throughout my teenhood, & to this day, I still have no idea how mothers put up with that cruel behavior. A lot of screaming & tears & pain & breakdowns & worry & frustration, that's for sure. So all the mothers out there who are going through the hardships that a teenage daughter brings, rest assured that in the end they will love you & make up for all the past undeserved callousness they showed you.

even if you can't stand her, even if you hate her, even if she's ruining your life, there's,
there's something about my mother.. some romance, some power. & when she dies,
the world will be flat. too simple, too fair, too reasonable.

///ICED///

2011-07-29T01:41:00.000-07:00

Images of feminine flowy dresses have been doing laps around my mind lately. Never would I wear one of those dresses with the cut-out sides, I'm more a fan of backless things. Backless things with black strappy detailing & contrasting soft silhouettes. & in this incessant rotation of images, the dresses are paired with dirty, worn black Converse chuck taylors, & I'm sitting at a cafe, legs crossed, sipping on rich european style coffee with elaborate foam art. & smoking is permitted exactly where I am seated, not ten feet further.

As well as a new dress, I'm in the market for a leather backpack to lug my huge camera around in because all of my existing handbags have proven to be pretty inadequate space-wise. A good quality hooded sweater would be ideal too. One with a giant grim reaper type of hood that I could just go around being completely anonymous in, but at the same time totally conspicuous.

a.ok open back silk dress 158.00 - Theyskens' Theory dewi dress 173.00 - Theyskens' Theory halter dress 209.00

Peter Vancoillie

Thakoon strapless draped gown 675.00 - Proenza Schouler slip dress 589.00

Rodarte for O.C. draped corset dress 397.50 - Free People goddess dress 88.00

Marco Fulle

Addison bucket bag 365.00 - Alexander Wang backpack 850.00

Marco Fulle

DRKSHDW by Rick Owens hoodie 265.00

i got my feet on the ground

& i don't go to sleep to dream

you got your head in the clouds

you're not at all what you seem

this mind, this body, & this voice

cannot be stifled by your deviant ways

so don't forget what i told you

don't come around

i got my own hell to raise

///EASY///

2011-07-28T06:11:00.000-07:00

I want to be off these crutches. At a beach far away. Dancing. Alone. Like a lunatic. But happy.

Blasting this song on repeat, as I've been doing the entire day. In my concrete loft.

In front of the computer. Sitting. Alone. Like a drone. Almost happy.

yeah i could find someone who'd never make me blue
cos nobody could ever tear me up like you
it's easy
hard as it looks

///CHANGE///

2011-07-25T10:15:00.000-07:00

Lovers to friends. Long hair to short hair. Crippled to mobile.

I reduced a love, chopped off memories, & moved right along.

Now I want to remove all my tattoos & start over again.

If only it were that quick & simple.

I don't hate my tattoos, I'm just becoming overly obsessed with this whole notion of a fresh, clean slate.

Which reminds me, I need a tally system for my sobriety. Like how people count their days in prison, scratching away at concrete walls. Marked behind my throat, at the back of my head, cos that's where it all came in: through facial orifices.
Back rather than front cos I'm not gangster enough for obscenely frontal tattoos.

July 19th marked my first tally.

A bumpy journey, a crooked line.

Brian M Viveros

Ixchel Lara

god will come & wash away

our tattoos & all the cocaine

///HERAKUT///

2011-07-24T17:25:00.000-07:00

Ich liebe das Künstlerduo: Herakut.

These girls with the emotions painted in their eyes.

Hurt, drained, waiting, fed up, longing, hoping, disappointed, in disbelief, & unimpressed.

///SUMMA///

2011-07-24T15:44:00.000-07:00

summer strums slowly

swiftly along

leading the way

leading me on

a weak love is strong

a sun fading into full moon

full of mood

swings swinging

sweeping the depths

then up so high

a summer someone

in silver cloud lit skies

with golden lies

& that bronzed smile

coupled by color

& the clearest minds

beside & not behind

not behind but beside

Ixchel Lara

someone to hold me tight

that would be very nice

someone to love me right

that would be very nice

someone to understand

each little dream in me

///AMY///

2011-07-23T15:12:00.000-07:00

love is a losing game
one i wish i never played
oh what a mess we made
& now the final frame

love is a losing game

RIP Amy.

out of the depths

onto higher ground now

Hedi Slimane

///SHORTY///

2011-07-23T03:38:00.000-07:00

I haven't had hair this short since I was eleven-years-old with a bob, bangs, & two T-Boz-inspired strands hanging awkwardly below my chin. I vaguely remember making my very first trip to the Philippines with that haircut & the only memories I carry of that trip are the over-playing of the songs Magic Carpet Ride by Mighty Dub Katz & One of Us by Joan Osborne & McDonald's apple pies tasting exponentially better than the ones in the U.S. Ironically, I find that all American food chains that've made it over to the Philippines taste better in the Asian third world than in the first world where they were actually established. &, not to mention, McDonald's delivers 24 hours a day over there, & you can get your Chicken McNuggets with rice. Seldom do I eat McDonald's anymore, especially not in America where servings are increasingly generous, but I do like to indulge every now & then when I've long forgotten the taste.

early morning crop-circling

///HOMBRE///

2011-07-20T08:50:00.000-07:00

September 2009 saw me with a quarter-shaved head in the style of Alice Dellal. & who was to guess that 85% of the Earth's female population was to catch on as well & shave anywhere between a quarter to an entire half of their head of hair off? A fun-for-a-while but should-now-go-back-to-strictly-punk trend that no one except Alice herself should be sporting anymore. So Cassie, you fucked up & you got a long way 2 go.

In March 2010 I wanted a hairstyle akin to Alexa Chung's. However, the following month my hair was chopped, dyed, & waved by some amateur hairstylist at a deceivingly trendy new salon & it ended up looking like M.I.A.'s (then (tragic)) hairstyle: not at all what I wanted. I popped more Valiums & gargled more liquor than usual over the next few months till that shit grew out, thus needing substance rehabilitation, so I went to rehab.

& when I got back in September 2010 I went (what is now popularly known as) "ombre." Which, if I'd seen it nine years previous, would've been inspired by Selma Blair's dip-dyed hair in the 2001 film Kill Me Later (rather than Rumi Neely of the 2008 blog fashiontoast).

Over a year later, now in July 2011, Alexa Chung's hairstyle is back to haunt me & I swear I will get it right this time!

My hair isn't actually cut like this yet but it will be very soon! These are just the top shorter layers,
the ones beneath are much longer but they're pulled back for these pics.

God I haven't listened to M.I.A. in much too long. Her existence in my memory faded completely when she started performing while pregnant. That was just an oddly disturbing sight considering her choice of non-maternal wear. Listening to M.I.A. brings back memories of salt & peppering my mangoes & shooting, spitting out the window. No but really, M.I.A. I think brings me back to the days when Cory Kennedy was cool & girls dressed really fucking out of it: mis-matching colors & patterns to a fault, lassoing themselves with ten or more assorted chunky chains, & then the (terrycloth) cherry on top: the sweat headband. Yes, I was one of those girls. I went to Fluxxe & I fluxxed the fuck out, sedated & dissociated, from Absinth to 32nd Street & back to wonderland over & over again.

///RELEVANCE///

2011-07-18T19:09:00.000-07:00

Last month I wrote, "don't hold onto me, i'll make the both of us drown"

& today I came across this:

but I still wish to leave.

///SENSE///

2011-07-14T00:14:00.000-07:00

slipping, slipping

out in stagnant space

in & out of starry face

eyes so bright

lights so blue

that darkness in you

i see

hidden seas of saturn

salty, sultry

soaked in bitters

dusty rings

old auras softly sing

several moons & lunas

to look up into fuschias

i'm meant to move

movements

i move

The Light Touch

Proflogik