Posts from the STYLE Category

It’s 8 AM. I’m already active, I’ve pottered about and returned to >> the bathroom << for my garment dying adventure. As written in the last evenings post, I’m due for a visit to my doctors to have some very serious discussions. It makes me sad to think about the discussions that need to be had, which is why I’ve chosen to meditate before hand.

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Art is meditation for me.

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I’m going to have some embroidered labels made for this I think. And replace the buttons. No one ought to do up their denim jackets up anyway.

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Rather than leaving clothing or fabric to soak in a dye, I like to pour the powder on directly and then brush it in myself.

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Dying Garments is a process that takes a very long time. Especially this drying nonsense.

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I’m going to wait until I can have these items dry cleaned, I’m concerned that washing them without first treating them will ruin the work before the fibres of the fabric have had a chance to absorb the colour.

 

This channel, I've noticed, has a habit of uploading some unusual and
 inaccurate edits of Abraham Hicks. I enjoy this video but I certainly
 wouldn't advise you listen to all the videos on this channel. 
I'd advise you to visit the discussions directly from the official 
Abraham Hicks Foundation website.

There's a fantastically worded question that references how we've 
gone from a "Newtonian" approach to Physics to a "Quantum" approach 
to Physics that deals with the assertion that we are energy particles.

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Today's dinner was chicken breast in garlic butter. I ate it with
Tescos out of the packet macaroni cheese prepared by ma and Himalayan
pink salt

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INGREDIENTS: Apple, Black Pepper, Chicken, Double Cream, 
Garlic (chopped as finely as I feel confident enough to),
Mozzarella cheese, Olives, 2x Oranges, Paprika, Tomato

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Tomorrow is a really big day for me, I’ve an appointment at ten in the morning, with the NHS. I’ve so much that needs discussing that I’ve managed to annotate it all on lined cards, so I don’t forget.

Anyone who has PTSD – or has otherwise had to repeatedly recover from numerous incidents in their life that have given them PTSD (and what a souvenir, what a name to succinctly describe an all around life-changing, mind-altering, severely-traumatic experience – flashbacks of the event for who knows how long, freezing into a state of incapacity, difficulty maintaining concentration and staring into space, nightmares of the event, anxiety and an inability or reluctance to engage with humans that you know you would allow to hurt you – ever – and some sad pity towards the ones you don’t care enough about not to hurt back), will tell you that their memory is questionable. Anyone who has grown up in a home with great levels of conflict will tell you that their memory is questionable. I don’t mean the occasional lovers tiff between a cheating mum and dad – I mean – literally not speaking to your mother for weeks unless it was to fight. Not being hugged by your mother unless it was because you’d just apologised for defending yourself in an argument she scheduled to stop you going to see a friend, and of course, never receiving the apology you deserved back.

Apparently growing up amongst a family that never stopped arguing is synonymous with being in a war zone – as in the brain chemicals released in both circumstances do not differ. Numbness and de-sensitivity is a temporary state – I’m sure in years to come it’ll be discovered that the result or outcome of the chemicals that we associate with happiness and the “lack” of feeling associated (wrongly) with sociopathy will be acknowledged as one and the same. A happy person is as oblivious as a sociopath is uncaring, and both are often guiltless about rudeness – ESPECIALLY if the rudeness is inflicted upon a person that deserves it.

The truth is – I’m SO HAPPY. I’m SO HEALTHY. Better than I have ever been, in my entire life – and in the absence of “friends”, “drugs” (unfortunately, because I enjoy those) or cash (sadly, because I enjoy having that).

There’s so much that actually needs to be discussed in that appointment, and it is not happy stuff. And there is so much more than I think could possibly be discussed or comprehended within the time frame. But as always: I make do with what I can. I’ll try to be concise and see how it goes.

I spent this weekend at Picasso’s Place. It’s a local cafe where you can spend hours perched at a table, painting pre-sculpted crockery. It’s then taken from you and placed in a kiln to be collected later. The owner cooks the ceramics about once a week and it’s so nice to have something to look forward to this weekend.

Did you know that Picasso’s career began with ceramics? Ofcourse he’d have been painting before he started working with tiles, but that’s where his career truly began to take off. My grandmother used to paint ceramics and had her own kiln in her home in Paraguay, in her artist’s studio. She had a bathroom she’d painted the tiles for herself. What a dream. If I ever design my own bedroom, it’ll be full of tiles and carpets.

I’ve not asked the owner much about how the items are made, and I ought to. I used to visit the cafe frequently as a child and I’ve thought to for years since but I’ve not felt to.

A girl I was friends with many years ago was at the cafe this weekend and it was really nice to share a room with her. We didn’t speak much – but it was nice to work with her there, all the same.

I made a #WIWTW video to document my outfit. I’ve added it to the >> style << section of my site to edit later. And above is my personal DBZ Pantheon. The credits for the images used in my cover photo can be found by visiting the link @youtube.

The apple piece was inspired by a sketchbook I completed in sixth form, about Snow White. I had been studying Angela Carter’s Bloody Chamber book for English Literature and I wanted to connect my English studies and my Fine Art studies – so I combined the two.

The work is intended for sale on my OphiuchusBorn shoppe, and a 
segment of a biblical (old testament) text I read yesterday in the 
early morning at the kitchen table. It was an inspiring read because
there were parts written about people who prophesy, I want my site
and my work to be available and inoffensive to people of all faiths
so I decided that when it comes to a structure relating to how I
read Tarot - I would like to only discuss what the cards mention in
terms of archetypes in relations to what I have learned from my
experience in counselling and also through my own relationship with
the figures in the cards as archetypes. I will not use the cards to
discuss people's future, only to discuss what the cards might afford
me to reflect about the present and the behavioural cycles in the 
querent's life. I have found that Tarot can be more successful in
resolving long term issues in people's lives than most forms of
therapy, and that promising people a future can be difficult as
when you open a spread to do so, the querent can also exercise a 
freedom of choice - that is they can choose not to take the advice
preceding the potential future the cards suggest. 

So my work is also an homage to the creationist story as written in
the book of Genesis, where the notion of Freedom of Choice is 
written - the 'forbidden fruit' certainly signifies the choice for
Adam and Eve to learn truth - but they have a choice not to.

The choice of a green apple was inspired by Son of Man, by Magritte. 

Ren? Magritte, The Son of Man, 1964, Restored by Shimon D. Yanowitz, 2009  øðä îàâøéè, áðå ùì àãí, 1964, øñèåøöéä ò"é ùîòåï éðåáéõ, 2009
The image was taken from the Son of Man Wikipedia Page. 

I once had a chat with a traveller in Uganda, a man from Israel. I
told him about what my family had done, and he said Thankyou on 
behalf of Israel - quite unpretentiously. A simple "thankyou" - and
he taught me the word "Benadam" - which means "Son of Adam". I wrote
a story later about the nature of parenthood, and divorce, 
the names of the protagonists in the story were 'Aphra' and 
'Benadam'. It subtly discussed the archetypes of man and woman 
leaving one another, to continue life journeys without one another.
I'm sad it was lost.
I'll include some snake references also, as I did do my initial 
sketch using shapes I found in photography on Google.

I’ve listened to this scene – on repeat – while I worked this evening. I’ve not yet fully watched it in it’s entirety.

Above is a video featuring a discussion between Zamasu and Master 
Goasu - that was uploaded by @Dragan Kraljevic. 
I've never seen these episodes but this character resonates with me. 
Like books.. I do judge characters by their covers, I think.

I'm never wrong about covers I like, though. I mean - when I like
a cover it means I'm receptive to learning something. 

There is a first time for everything however.

“You lack faith in mortals, tell me why – this tea is a mirror pointed inward. If the soul of it’s maker is clouded, the tea will be as well. So is it fear that clouds this cup, or bewilderment? Speak.”

“Master Goasu you’ve said something often, to make mistakes but learn from them thus forging a better World. That is the essence of a mortal spirit. But as far as I can see, mortals do not learn this way at all. Planet Barbary is no outliar Master – you’ve seen this countless times before.”

“Patience Zamasu. Every seed needs time to grow.”

“Gardens are tended – not just watched. Should not a gardener not pluck the weeds? When I was invited here, I thought you would teach me divine justice. When all you seem to do is – watch – while these monsters stain existence with each other’s blood.”

“Hm. Zamasu, do you ever ponder the relationship between good, evil and justice?”

“Yes. All the time. Evil is the great obstacle to good. And justice the sword by which good can over come this obstacle and flourish.”

“That is one perspective. But I have come to view it this way: justice is not a sword eradicating evil but a scale keeping good and evil in balance.”

“Balance, Master?”

“One can succumb to evil but reject that darkness and rediscover the light with new understanding – justice makes that journey possible. Evil informs good – and that is why we give the mortals their mind.”

“You give corruption far too much credit. Evil does not inform good, it sullies it, like the barbary sully their world with violence and that arrogant Goku sullied a sacred ground by swinging his fists at a God. Mortals receive the divine gift of intellect, the potential for wisdom. But they misuse it to destroy the beauty of creation. Mortals do not succumb to evil, they are the evil – they create it and spread it with minds they shouldn’t possess – how can we call ourselves Gods if we watch this plight and do nothing to stop it?”

“Zamasu you have a strong hunger for justice – and that can be a great thing. But we must put temperance over righteousness and guide lost children to the good path that seems slow, even for us. Do not forget the true reason you have honed your fighting ability is to strengthen your mind for your journey toward enlightenment. Being Gods does not make us perfect. We too must learn and ?? over time. Reflect on our discussion as you make more tea.”

“Merely watching. That’s a sin too. Don’t you see?”


Last night, I borrowed the tub my ma uses for dishes and began dying clothes that I felt needed to be livened up. If you have garments that you like but are a little boring, I strongly advise you researching how to upcycle them. You might even be able to sell them if it’s something of a talent. I’ll be sure to post the result when I’m happy with them.

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I like to pour the powder in specific areas of clothing and rub it in myself using a toothbrush, it gives you more control over how the dye is absorbed by the fabric. I like messy and directional paint strokes.

Mood tho. Doesn’t this sound like a song that I wrote once upon a time? I love to pretend.(This song is from Walk the Line – the movie about Johnny Cash & June Carter. I love. I watched it with Kitty a million years ago, when his room was painted spider-man red.)

I’ve been binging lots of Zoella videos. I’m excited to see her book on Hostessing!

I was reminiscing about Matthew Cooke when I took these, he used to photograph for GodsGirls. This was his colour palette. I don’t have too many memories about GodsGirls.com but more than anything I remember the beautiful colours. I always find that the photography and film of every time-period are marked by the use of particular colour palettes and temperatures.

I went through a period of using a lot of creams and browns at one point in my photo-taking ambitions… Now I prefer to be inconsistent with my use of colour. I want to photograph more – but I want the colours in my photographs to reflect the mood I’m trying to portray rather than use colour to signify a “style”. I think – just personally – that when it comes to photography – it’s your choice of framing that indicates style. Colour is a language and I think, if you limit yourself, you limit your ability to communicate and express. For me, art has before anything been about  having a means of expressing myself.

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I sang this (sang is a poor word to describe it, singing isn’t my thing) in a group skype call once… a million years ago to two of my friends. I know they loved me because they responded very politely to that tone-deaf warbling

Oh – this version is so much fun. June-Japan-Fan donning the kind of sleeves I like forgets the lyrics

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I’m usually the kind of person who won’t wear an item of clothing if it has creases in it – and as a general rule… I am personally offended by guys who don’t iron their shirts … but I actually quite like the creases in this little playsuit.. at least for photographs. It’s kind of ~structural, in how the light hits the fabric. Isn’t it weird how something can be “structural” and yet not “structured“?? #vpoetic #suchastuteobservation #meta4

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I love this, super long ribbon. I’ve always felt that ribbons on clothes should be especially long. I watch too much Anime. (Not really, it’s impossible)

When I first looked at this spiral ribbon I was kind of irritated and thought to iron it before I tried the dress on, but actually … imagine if they sold ribbon that looked like this… perhaps they do… but I’ve never seen it

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Thoughts on a playsuit I like to pretend that I co-created – the way that the dress should be fastened only occurred to me after I took these photos and I really like it. I refastened it and it gave the little dress so much more shape.

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I’ve just sent these scribbles off to be pattern-cut and then I’m sending them to Syria.

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Lee Mcqueen talks about a Ring of Fire briefly in this interview and it reminds me of that time Kitty sued his University and given more money than he had ever had in his entire life … of all the things he could’ve bought, he bought an Alexander McQueen ring…

In, I think, about forty minutes I will fall asleep. My sleeping pattern is so so so kdljfsdfkgjsdfg. It’s fine – by the end of this weekend a load of things I’ve commissioned will become available to me. So exciting. To me. So… I live a lot in Dream Land (asleep or awake) … I’ve kind of walked around taking snaps of stuff. I really like documenting transitional phases, is fun

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I have almond oil in my hair. I put it on my legs too because my skin gets dry – it takes awhile to work but it does work and it’s inexpensive. I love a good “beauty” hack. If you want flowey locks you should invest in some kind of natural oil. When I was living with Lisa she told me that I should buy toiletries – creams etc – from shops run by black people (she is black, she can call black people black) and I actually bought this oil from a shop run by a brown person. (Using colour to collectively describe a culture is probably beneath 2018-internet, but I watched a Wendy Williams video where she described “white” people as “pink” and I wasn’t offended. Also I only look “white” / “pink”.) Shut up – this is boring dialogue – this rant is so I-need-to-sleep-I’m-typing-for-the-sake-of-typing-when-I-wake-up-I-will-cringe-wince.

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I got a cute duvet cover & pillow case. I’m waiting for a new sheet… This one has residue from some spray-painting stuff I’ve been doing. I don’t really have the best/safest work practices and I wiped a lot of pink spray paint out of my nose. But actually it’s kind of made me think that there should be super-light-tie-dye-ombre-faded-washes of bed clothing. V cinematic. To me.

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My room divider is nice. Everyone should have a room divider.
blog9stuff.pngI got a wig of a haircut I had a long time ago. Ugh it reminds me of this girl I was at uni with who literally only ever looked good when she and I were friends. I told her I saw a girl in topshop with short hair and a cute messy-grungey fringe and a top knot bun. She got a bob and I called it “the edwardian monk bob” on twitter when we weren’t talking. She was gossiping about me with people I wouldn’t of given the time of day, one time legit ran crying to our pervert landlord next-door-neighbour about mess our other housemates had left, particularly in the kitchen (around this time I actually wasn’t really eating very much – because I was catatonic because I couldn’t trust anyone – people thought I was paranoid because I was smoking weed – first of all, weed acts as a magnifying glass that enhances your intuition) and second of all – if you grow up around people you can’t trust, you attract people into your life that you also cant trust. It’s a cyclical behaviour and a truth of “human” behaviour that any counsellor will confirm with you. One day I’ll be awarded a complimentary PhD for my services to both psychology & psychiatry. Really.)

When I was super ill – and by ill, I mean freaking out about stuff like my boyfriend cheating on me with most (if not all?) of my friends, being robbed of stuff (five grands worth of Saffron. Pity the guy who created that karma..), being discussed by people – confronting the people who discussed me and being called names, severe anorexia, being so broke that I had no heating, being ditched by everyone that I actually really cared about… Reliving unfortunate childhood memories I had tried to forget over and over. Casually ignoring I’d had about three miscarriages (one time, a hobbit girl stood in the doorway of my kitchen talking with great passion about her super-ultra-deep feelings for about five hundred different guys, while I quietly started heating up/shaking and out of nowhere just started bleeding onto that Ikea Ofelia blanket I had on our red “sofa” and said quietly “oh I’ve just had a miscarriage” – to which she responded “oh” and then continued talking about these boys, while I ran to my room and put a pad on – and then dabbed at the blood with the kitchen sponge . She didn’t ask if I was okay or anything because obviously this chat was incredibly important. Anyway – people call me self absorbed and I thank every fucking star on the Planet (I’m leaving ‘Planet’ there because I typed that automatically, but the intended words were ‘in’ and ‘the Universe‘) that I am because if I wasn’t, I would not have survived. Anyway all of this happened, then later I realised I’m a medium – I channeled Jung and Freud at the same time. Ha.

Not insane or even actually mentally ill – just absorbent of other people’s emotions about both themselves and me, absorbent of their insanity (of which insecurity..) and mental illnesses, like depression. A weird sponge.

That girl also had a lot of things to say about my depression, that is a discussion for a more honest time. I give it about eight months. Actually she’s in my graphic novel. I did a lovely little drawing of her. She may well be the only person I’ve illustrated myself and the likeness is uncanny.

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If you look through the divider this is what you see. Fascinating right?

I bought this from Etude. Is nice. Everyone should have one.

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The upstairs hallway is being done up. I probably said before.

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These doors were installed years ago by one of my dads Arab friends? Contacts? Someone my dad knew. This door. When it comes to interiors my mother is .. uh. She pretends that she had nothing to do with this mess – it’s really, really funny.

A friend of my mother’s called Jessica, who we knew in Dubai (She used to escort distraught foreign women who had come over to the U.A.E to marry ((often abusive, actually)) Arab men – through airports – leaving behind their children.) used to joke that my family were the Simpsons.

I guess it’s true

I digress for a funfact – did you know that the internet started using ‘warm’ colours because of Godsgirls.com? A photographer called Matthew Cooke brought that in. The influence of Aesthetics is so so subtle. He, Lithium Picnic, Kelly Lind and Cherry from SuicideGirls were my favourite photographers – aside from Araki, Arnulf Rainer and also that David Lynch shoe-fetish collection of Louboutins. Y’know Instagram filters? They happened because of people like Lara Jade and even Felice Fawn (Who at 14 had a – dressed – self portrait stolen and used for a pornography. If I were her I’d have loved it)

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I get the concept of a “self hating” Jew. If anyone ever wonders – I don’t hate that I’m Arabic. If I did – I assure you I could offer you a huge list of reasons as to why it would be justified – but I actually quite like it. Apart from the like, body hair and stuff. Ive been conditioned to hate that. Like you’ve been conditioned to neg me for it.

Some Persian guy once pointed out something pretty cool about body hair – when someone is around you, the hair on your arms responds to it. He was a piece of shit though. But so was pretty much every guy I hung out with at University, even the white ones with the fanciest british accents. But y’know, men from every culture find some way of abusing women. Perhaps one day some brave woman will write a book about the abuses indigenous to various cultures. I heard Somalians are quite into female genital mutilation and beating women. British boys are into date-rape drugs and also beating women. Vikings are also into date-rape drugs. Indian guys like to harass women from cultures outside of their own, because within their own culture theres always some auntie that knows their mum. I’m more of an other-hating Jew really, I hate everyone

I’d probably really fit in in Israel actually

So uh, amongst the many thoughts/dreams/premonitions/etc that go through my skull when I’m staring – this is how I experience the entrance to my mother’s bathroom. My dad paid someone to do that. My mother let someone leave her house in that state. (The incompletely-painted floor happened years ago – when my mother started painting it… and then her leg snapped in two the day I had a pretty serious surgery.)

For the last two days I’ve been …kind of really exploring the character of Hannibal Lecter & also – only a very brief moment ago – when I was composing this entry – I guess the phrase “appreciating the senses” popped into my head.

I studied film, and my mother came from a performing arts background. She was a ballerina. My sister also came from a performing arts background. And I spent a few reluctant years of my life doing all that stuff too. So it’s really a part of me to get lost in the details of any kind of composition, even the process an actor goes through to “build” a character.

I initially wrote of myself: ‘as a visual aesthete’, and then I thought ‘as an aesthete’ and then I went back to ‘as a visual aesthete’ – I’m the kind of person who will focus on details such as texture, light and colour (they affect my mood – yours too: I’m sure; but as I’m so connected to my feelings – my sense of sight is kind of an overwhelming experience for me. It’s not just about my feelings – it’s a language. A constant language.)

Today I’m grateful for the ability to see. I do struggle – I need to wear glasses. I’ve been toying with the idea of wearing contact lenses, but I’m quite acclimated to not-being-able-to-see-very-far & it means I can really enjoy details. It also means I don’t have to make eye contact with everyone I come across when I go out.
I think when you make the most of your senses, they do develop.

Here’s a video I made yesterday. I can’t quite draw like Hannibal Lecter but life without ambition would be a little boring, wouldn’t it

When I was little I was the kind of person that: given the option to choose between a beanie baby and a McDonalds mini beanie baby I would see more value in the McDonalds beanie baby. I once traded really rare beanie babies for the mini McDonalds editions. I got in soooo much trouble.
I have an eye for novelty items. I’ll pick the tacky costume jewellery over a diamond necklace if it’s more aesthetically pleasing. That kind of stupidity is the curse of any visually creative personality type, really. (Or is it? Do I really need a label to tell me the worth of good design, or do I not qualify as a person who can judge that for myself?) Maybe I assigned value to my possessions by how they made me feel, I guess the littler beanie babies were a lot cuter. Obviously I had no concept of a commodity’s material-value and I basically judged a things worth based on how happy it made me.

Uh. Took a weird-thought-journey to get to the point of a very quick post to essentially celebrate a very tacky purchase. Basically – I’m the kind of person who won’t take very good care of paint brushes. Cheap ones, expensive ones… I’ll usually end up leaving them sitting (festering?) in a mug of water …for days, maybe weeks? Months even?

So I invested in some ombré barracuda tail make up brushes to paint with instead. They’re too precious not to take good care of!

Owh, I’m inspired… I really ought to do a series of ONE-LOOK??? merman make up tutorials or something before I dip them into any watercolour paints. Just kidding. (I love watching girls apply make up tho)

To be honest I have no idea whether they’d see more use in being used to apply make up or for painting, because I’ve been so busy doing-things-and-definitely-not-going-out. Either way.. aren’t they pretty?!

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BRAAA
BRALET | NEWLOOK

I’ve had everything and I’ve had nothing. I have roots in countries where the contrast of wealth spans from infants residing in cardboard boxes to opulence I’ve never seen on, iunno, TV.

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TEXTURED (P??)LEATHER MICKEY MOUSE COIN PURSE BY DISNEY | PRIMARK & FELIX THE CAT CARD HOLDER | ASOS

In the West we follow trends which serve as a “This is what Rich looks like” guide, telling you how luxury or wealth should look but forget that everything has been designed by somebody.

bambi.jpgFLUFFY BAMBI HOTWATER BOTTLE BY DISNEY | PRIMARK

The great thing about studying Art & Design is you kind of get to decide what “expensive” looks like, for yourself – and pricetags no longer mean a thing. I’m drawn to rare things. I’m also drawn to the things others might not want. I’m also drawn to the things that everyone wants but can’t have.

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NIGHTY | LUNN ANTIQUES
BRATHING.jpgCUPLESS CORSET | NEWLOOK

If one’s personal aesthetic can be likened to dessert – I prefer to think of my style as a multi-layered cake, a mixture of ingredients, colours and …condiments…? Ideally a one time combination that hasn’t been seen before. Tacky is my personal sugar. Thats when I’m not in pyjamas, anyway.

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BRALET | NEWLOOK

But really – fancy is an energy. You can go for a week or two without washing your hair and still look fancy if you feel it. I’m sharing a sofa with my chihuahua bestfriend, that might not sound so swanky but in months yet the sofa will be replaced with office furniture & a marvellous bed. I’m starting up four businesses. I’m lucky enough not to have to be working a job just to make ends meet. Fancy is what you make of it. I mean… look at my current studio set up.

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I’m struggling with how many business cards I ought to have printed. I might have a ‘Supreme Sleeping & Napping Queen’ card printed. Has anyone ever done that before??

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GOLD SNAKEPRINT FOIL TRUNKS & HAND BOUND AND >> PAINTED LOLITA LIBRI MUTI (MUTE BOOK) | SLOW DESIGN AND FLORENTINE PRINTING <<

Some of my favourite outfits, looking back on a past-self’s instagram, cost £2 from a charity shop. I remember eventually even giving those up because I felt guilty about looking pretty. People used to really struggle with me posting nice photographs of myself on the internet – as if I ought to be compelled to post bad ones?!
People will always find some reason to make you feel bad about yourself, they’ll seek out some imperfection to dwell on and try to demean you for it – but that isn’t indicative of a problem in you.

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KRYSTAL BY OPHIUCHUS BORN

You really are doing others a favour by trying your best in all your endeavours. Whether it’s making playlists on Spotify, posting stuff on Instagram, blogging… sleeping?? Is shopping one of your greatest talents? I knew a girl who was great at finding things in shops when I was all disoriented.
If we were still friends I’d tell her to be a personal shopper.

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DRESS BY NEWLOOK | HEELS BY KURT GEIGER A ZILLION FASHION-YEARS AGO

As highly contradictory as it might be, in contrast to my pursuit of non-physical – I’m a very visual person. So… when someone perhaps criticises my appearance – and they do – for example, I don’t think it’s even remotely a secret that I get lip injections. Some people think they’re too big. But I love them, so their opinion doesn’t hurt my feelings at all. I have wanted huge lips since I was about five years old.

Actually – if you’re deeply non-physical there are plenty of arguments I can give you to validate plastic surgery. First: the body really doesn’t matter. Secondly: taking action to bring yourself to a higher state of self love sends out an energy that makes other people feel comfortable loving themselves too. I mean, your friends might be a bit jelly but energy work isn’t best observed by your friends responses.

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CHOKER BY NEWLOOK | BROKEN NAIL EARRING TURNED HAIR-BUN CLIP BY ZARA & INSPIRED BY A MISSING BRACELET OF ALFIE DEYES’ | PERFUME BY LALIQUE | OBLONG STICKERS BY MOO | COFFEE, HEMP MILK & PINK STRAW IN MOTHER’S WAITROSE MUG | SEQUIN CUSHION FROM HONG KONG VIA AMAZON

I’ve learned the beauty of having nothing to define you – friends, material belongings, even self esteem. But it was my fear of being alone that was the most damaging.  I’ve had a hard time with that. Isn’t it ironic that a person could have a fear of being alone and also be an escapist? I think that what is understood as addiction stems from a fear of being alone.
I think that would upset people to read, I know I’ve engaged with people in recovery who might’ve found me quite blasé/ignorant/stupid but I actually grew up with someone perceived as an addict. When I was around three or four I used to intuitively manage to locate where my brother had stashed his drug paraphernalia.

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EMBELLISHED JUMPER BY NEWLOOK | BAMBI SOCKS BY DISNEY FOR PRIMARK

There was a time I would wake up and go fly into a rage if I couldn’t smoke a joint.. the issue was really that I was in a lot of pain and weed killed that pain very successfully. I spent five years of my life stoned. I do think you can have addictive behaviours, you can even say they’re genetic – but that perpetuates a blaming-others cycle which I also disagree with.
I really think you can change the behaviours, cycles and traits inherent in your genes & I think that the future will prove me right. Would you believe me if I told you I was meditating on my breasts getting bigger!? And that it’s working!???! (Still want a boob job, tho.)

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BAMBI SOCKS BY DISNEY FOR PRIMARK

It’s surprising how upset a person can get when you imply something along the lines of – you aren’t an addict, you have some holes that need filling that stem in childhood-boredom. It’s like the recovery program finds something positive in reassigning a person’s identity by forcing them to admit they’re an addict. Fucked up, to me, to be honest.

What the term addiction really means is you’ve been brought up by people who’ve been brought up by people who’ve been brought up by people that don’t know how to cope with themselves. And anyway – life without vices is … hella fucking boring.

If you’re good enough fun and you spend some time with an addict, they probably won’t do the thing they’re addicted to as much. It’s not a reflection of you, it’s a reflection of how much fun that person’s inner child needs to be constantly having. You are not responsible for being a person’s source of fun or enjoyment.

If an addict were looking to me for advice – I’d say to focus on admitting you never learned how to have a good time alone & learn how to have a good time alone. I find enjoyment in Art, Beauty and finding new sources of Inspiration.

This December has been spiritually and materially wonderful for me. I refuse to feel guilt about the things I’m manifesting. As it has always been – they probably cost a lot less than you think: but that is far from the point.

If you are fortunate enough to have a financial means that affords you an expensive taste, you should feel comfortable making your fortunes visible because that influences artists and designers – that means you influence the less-expensive stuff that trickles it’s way down the stream to more affordable places.

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LEOPARD PRINT GLASSES CASE | I’VE HAD IT FOR ABOUT TEN YEARS AND I DON’T REMEMBER WHERE I BOUGHT IT

I’ve been in friend’s council houses and I’ve lived in halfway houses and it shocks me that the government gets away with making people think that it’s cost effective to keep them living like that. The millennial approach to this terrible economy has been to make-do and the result has been a fashionable “industrial” aesthetic thats become marketable as “expensive”. At University I lived with the kind of wealth that buy Dior babygrows for newborns but carried nokia phones (‘Drug dealer’ phones.) Ofcourse if you are wealthy and you’re a drug dealer, the police really have no interest in you. It’s the people who gain power without much wealth that terrify the police. Did you know that?
Culture is stolen from the poor, did you know that?

Lets take it further – the cage-grown-antibiotics-pumped chicken you might eat at a Perfect Fried Chicken chain (like KFC but even cheaper) is not so far apart from the cage-grown-antibiotics-pumped frozen chicken breast being served in air-locked plastic bags at any grocery. The only difference is the price tag, some seasoning (stolen from the poor, at some point) & maybe some kind of addictive substance that tastes -really- good when you’re stoned. In London we have places like Acton, and I-LOVE-Acton, I’m really not hating here, but the price of food is kept so low that these places have a micro-economy of their own that keeps residents in these towns from travelling very far because they simply can’t afford to.

I recall a textile teacher once joking that “Dirty Denim” was inspired by a designers trip to I think Vietnam – they passed by worn & torn denim hung up on clothes lines in a slum. Imagine if – at the time – one of these Vietnamese slum-dwellers learned what the clothes on their back were worth over in the West.

Edited on 5th January to add – case in point! >> Check these “scuffed” Golden Goose Deluxe Brand sneakers on Netaporter. <<

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Fancy is an energy – and an Art. It’s the people that really live that do it best. So. If you can’t buy Art, live and make your own. You never know, you might influence someone.

Whats that quote… the riche have no taste..? 😛 Well maybe..! It’s commonly observed that people prefer artists before they get wealthy. It’s often been suffering of some kind that inspired the greatest pieces of Art – my favourite of my own work (that sounds conceited but it’s difficult to type. In fact I would prefer to be more conceited. It’s so much healthier. I’m sitting beside stock I’ve designed and gathered for one of my businesses and something very deep down still tells me it isn’t adequate!?).
Abraham Hicks teaches that true inspiration, good ideas etc – belong to source. You only have to suffer for your Art if you believe it’s necessary to do so. I spent my life believing that, so .. proceeding a hard time.. I guess thats why it’s all coming together so fast.

This time next year I plan on being a millionaire and I’ll be buying Art exclusively from ‘Poor’ people. I have this inner vision that one of my superhero powers is influence & I intend on using that to decide what sellable-Art is. I want to change the Art world, yep yep.

I know when you’ve learned something from me.

Just had a fun chat with my ma. I came to the conclusion that a practical course studying film is probably the most important degree you can do in these way-of-the-introvert-times. All the information we take in is visual. Whether you like it or not (I like it) we are glued to screens. I see that people won’t take news seriously anymore (those that do) if it’s not verifiably filmed on-location, in real time. Perhaps it’ll have to be interactive. Journalists just aren’t trust worthy anymore.

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Oh. I had another little interior-design related epiphany. 2017/18 Hipsters throughout the world… WATCH FLASH DANCE. We are stuck in the 70s. The 70s are my period of choice but also so is 2018. I want to help influence 2018 chic. This is a bold aim but something to consciously try. ANYWAY – these are stills from that perfect movie.

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