PINK, STYLE

A G L I T T E R I N G D E C E M B E R

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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.

redtop.jpgRED RUFFLE CROPTOP | NEWLOOK
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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O C T O B E R F A V O U R I T E S & A R T I N M I N U T I A E // I D U B B B Z R E D

Preface: I know I said I’d learn the names of all the colours, but fuck that, I’ll like, name them myself. ~~~

Thursday 3rd November

Today, when I woke up I found an invitation on the >> House of Hackney << Instagram asking people to attend a spiritually motivated talk on The Alchemy of Space. I’m quite interested to attend “Alchemical Snake Charming” on 16th November. If you are genuinely interested in interior design, alchemy or charming snakes.. you should come along!

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The background of this invitation is from their new Serpentis line, which I think I shall be using to line the inside of my open wardrobe with. Some fantastic, figurative Ragnar-Lothbroke-esque pit of snakes to guard my garments and shoes.

We’re having work done to the house… Teenage me is delighted to know that she’s finally getting her dream bedroom. If you’re curious as to the vibe I’m looking to manifest for mine and my little dog friend’s bedroom, it’s on Pinterest.

(Here’s an anecdote I find amusing: When I was a lot younger and I had my first chance to decorate a bedroom, I went with my mother and sister to purchase wallpaper. I wanted a navy blue damask. I was ten? And um. My sister and my mother didn’t like my choice, so they picked a blue snakeprint wallpaper with a border of pink rabbits. Then my mother got me dinosaur doorknobs for my wardrobe. And blue and white plaid lampshades. Like, I felt really petty recently and brought this up to both of them. hahahas,dfdfg. They both insist kids are supposed to have kid-bedrooms but what if your kid is a really, really, really old soul that takes themselves extremely seriously!?!!?!!)

Friday 3rd November

There’s also an event about the Art of Manifesting using symbolic objects – that sounds fun! Right up my street. I learned a few years ago to recognise the energies in my life by noticing the recurring symbols and colours that people I meet adopt. I mean.. When you experience enough life, you stop engaging with people as individuals and instead realise the energy they are.. but you need physical information in order to do that. The sound of the vibration in a syllable or two of their name, a colour combination, some detail in their clothing… whatever minutiae speaks to you.

>>Here’s a song.<< Maybe it’ll speak to someone that understands what I’m saying. Maybe not. I am Mclovin’.

I find that with most exercises in creating, you have to gather the basic data/tools and exist intimately with them – not necessarily engage – but keep them around. Kind of like an artist that scatters pieces of inspiration about their studio. For example… have you ever bought a book that you intended to read, and eventually you created an entire pile of unread-but-loved-all-the-same books that created a narrative of their own simply by sitting atop one another?

Once I sat with a girl, a glass blower… who moved into a flat I rented with a boyfriend in Surrey… I later realised her to be a manifestation of some younger energy of my own mother – a woman who adores glass (a form of sand, which I spent six years of my life surrounded by when I lived in Dubai – I’m from the desert, baby!) … who lost her greatest love, a little dog called Jojo when we left Dubai to move to London.
With that housemate’s permission, I looked through old, kinda boring drawings in one of her work sketchbooks. Drawings that might not have seemed to carry any kind of deeper meaning. She had, I think, drawn some orange coral? possibly I’m mistaken, and the steeple of the beautifully structured local church. I pointed out to her that if she were to look outside her bedroom window, the church was right there in the angle she had sketched it from. And then I pointed out that her orange drawing was exactly like her little keyring. I don’t speak much, I mostly avoid it, but I observe everything. Even if I pretend not to.

When you study film you learn that there is no such thing as an insignificant detail: everything captured in the frame carries significance. I only really ever cared about the meanings of colours, and of the few lectures I attended in the years I spent at uni, my most memorable was one in which a lecturer I regarded as a surrogate parent (An admission I made to him, that was wildly taken out of context at the time… to people who sadly live such a base existence that they associate and demean such relationships by associating them with sex. I am personally repulsed by girls calling men/boys they’re sexually attracted to “Daddy” – but thats not related.) – one time he showed us a cowboy film, and he compared each shot to a Renaissance painting. I got to ask “What is the significance of red and blue?” I think he told me that those were very valuable colours used in paintings (religious iconography I think?) in the past, that were funded by the church. I considered him a spiritual teacher more than anything and I never had the chance to communicate that to him. I’m sure he worked it out. I still remember him asking me if I had ever heard of the Queen of Heaven, which I associate now with divine feminine energy. He was a total angry-feminist and he often encouraged me to live my dream of shooting feminist-erotica. I don’t think he realised how long it took for people to actually understand the things he was trying to say. One time I sat with him and he was completely exasperated, because he couldn’t understand what teaching methods to adopt for my generation. I pointed out to him that the people he had accepted onto his course were all really damaged in some way or another and that it was possible he was teaching them something more than the Art of Film. I had a soulmate in my class, one of the hardest working students on the course, and whenever he presented work our lecturers gave him the harshest critique – I told him I suspected it was because when you identify potential in somebody, you feel a strange liberty/are compelled to put more pressure on them to create something better. That said – I don’t think people realise that kids at University are actually still kids. I think adulthood starts at 35, for healthy people. Later, for fuck ups.

Another significant lecture I recall, that also carries relevance: is that on one occasion we had a class on creating/writing characters. This was with another lecturer.

Oh wow, my memory is fuzzy.

Give me a moment to recollect. OK – basically our lecturer brought up the film Taxi Driver – and as coincidence would have it I had watched it pretty recently with my then ex-boyfriend… who might’ve projected himself onto Travis. Probably because he was the male protagonist of the story, and men in my life have a habit of thinking they’re some kind of universal epicentre. I know, because I have the same habit. It’s a healthy habit. It may well be his only healthy habit… Also I think at the time I was amused because although he didn’t have any resemblance to Travis characteristically or otherwise… He had a gorgeous friend who did.
Anyway. So. This day, I had the flu – but I still went to class. Pretty unusual. I’ve never been the sort to need much of a reason not to go to school. But this day I went in.

Our lecturer asked us – Why did Betsy lose interest in Travis? And… I raise my hand with utmost confidence. He invites me to answer. I say “Because she was just like everyone else” – those were Travis’ words. The lecturer says “No. Because he took her to an adult movie on their first date.”

Dude, we were both right. But I looked pretty stupid that day to a bunch of people – lecturer included. That probably made me not want to go to class anymore for awhile. But what is interesting upon reflection of that experience was the differences in the details we were inclined to notice. My lecturer argued Travis did something wrong by inviting her to an adult movie. Would it not have been disingenuous for him to have done anything else?
I don’t think you can do anything wrong by being yourself. You need to live your truth to grow.

I’d love to watch an adult film at a cinema on a first date.

TAXIDENIRO

In the small details of the things you accumulate: books, decorative objects, clothing, technology etc, you will find that you are manifesting a much deeper narrative that presents itself in your life. The tiny, seemingly insignificant details; such as the characteristics you observe – and when you observe something, you anthropomorphise it – in inanimate objects: have the potential to present themselves in your personal narrative. Your subconscious pays attention to everything. I actually kind of wince thinking about how many telephones I’ve had stolen. Telephones, friends, lovers, etc. This month I’ve been carrying out an exercise in fresh manifestation. New objects of significance. Nabakov articulated it much better than I ever could. Here is a page from >>a journal<< I’m pretty proud of, that I made for a presentation module I did during my degree.

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Segue of sorts: I had such bad period cramps on the day I presented this project, that I was lying on the floor in agony clutching my belly – a rumour circulated that I had come into class fucked on ketamine. I’d love to read a book the people I went to University had written about me, about all their assumptions, all the lies they heard from jealous girls etc… In fact, low and behold I manifested an opportunity to act out a bunch of rumours about me.

This is a face I make when I am slightly irritated and/or, mostly: flirting.

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I used to get upset about this photo >>>>
But here are the facts: it was taken inside of the ensuite bathroom in a hotel room belonging to a gorgeous Al Saud princess/The hottest woman I’ve ever seen (She was also a psychology masters student/fashion designer… I used to have her on Instagram before I deleted it. I think she remains my biggest account-deleting-regret) … I was in love with her! Like, actually in love. I am super straight but she was sexuality-questioning-magnetism. That is her Chanel lipstick. That powder on her countertop was crushed from her paracetamol.

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I think people confuse classiness for wealth. (I’m being ironic but also not. Could you pull this stupidity off? If so – write me – lets be friends) (Ps I credit Rowan Atkinson circa the Elizabethan episodes of Blackadder, for teaching me this smile. Fuck you! Love you.)
I think people also think that having good taste means you’re rich. Well I definitely have good taste. Kanye West says the greatest luxury is time. I have plenty of that – so I guess I’m rich AF. I only got over how bad that photo is pretty recently. I rang up the Vice Headquarters and asked them to take it down once. They offered to reshoot the photos. Why bother. Why not just write another epic article that discreetly makes light of the war on drugs? Some part of me wonders how many people developed addictions after seeing this ridiculous photograph.

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Anyway. Onto the Art of Manifestation. I spent my monthly income on objects intended to attract experiences in my life. I can’t wait to see what comes out of it all! (Psst.. if all you’re seeing is an ordinary object, you’re not seeing right)

(There are more! but I was in a rush to get this blog posted… And I wanted to make pretty animations of everything… so you’ll have to keep refreshing to see the rest of last months haul, I’m afraid)

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Lucite heels so cheap and so0o0o astonishingly poorly crafted that I’ve got to paint them to justify the whole.. funding slave labour.. thing. I’ve made a habit of seeing beauty in imperfection… and anyway, perfection triggers my OCD. Don’t need that.

The significance in this little pin featuring a glass of wine, is that, well. Recently I had a chat with a witch/Goddess in an OTO meet up. We had in common a strange childhood experience. I told her that after this experience, I remembered ascending a staircase in my family home, onto a roof top – in Dubai – where a family of cats (that we later brought in) were hiding from the sun in the shadow of a vent or something. But the first thing I noticed was a dead kitten lying in the sun, the blood from it’s nose congealing. I was fascinated by this kitten. I crouched and stared at it. Then I remember seeing myself staring at the kitten from a third person perspective. I jokingly suggested that some part of me thinks I traded spirits with the kitten. We finished our cigarettes and ascended a staircase together and she said “come on, Dead girl, come back upstairs!” That made me think of one of my favourite >> Lil Kim songs <<. I don’t much care for wine, but she poured me two glasses.. and I found it quite symbolic.

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Death chic is my aesthetic. This Idubbbz-red-faux-fur compliments that vibe imo. I also bought this fucking adorable succulent. Back when I was living with aforementioned ex I had this glorious indoor-garden that I was deeply, deeply emotionally attached to. I got hospitalised for a period and came back and all my plants were dead. I cried more about the loss of my plants than I did about my break up. Actually, I did not cry about my break up. But amongst the many laws of manifestation is this: the things you lose come back to you or get replaced with something better suited to you.

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Years ago I bought a hoodie that read ‘Deus Ex Machina’ & at the time I thought it the best manifest-tool I’d ever purchased. It’s been upgraded by a SHEEP hoodie designed by some epic-asshole-idiot-YouTuber called IDubbbz, who recently proved himself to be an accidental??? women’s rights champion by mansplaining Rape Culture to a dude whose dad clearly couldn’t be bothered to.

This is a 100% real photo of me painted by Botticelli, wearing a hoodie designed by >> Idubbbz <<, inspired by >> Dita <<, >> Lil Kim’s entrance in Christina Aguilera’s Can’t Hold us Down video << (the bit where she throws her cape off fyi, SO INSPIRING + I LOVE David Lachapelle), tentacle hentai (because I also love tentacle hentai) & real life

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Design clothes >> @IDubbbz << cos you’re really talented.

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