tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32359662188311767102024-02-19T09:27:05.762+00:00Fuck These ShoesJack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-6521086221803614522011-07-26T23:02:00.001+01:002011-07-26T23:04:53.378+01:00Just AnOther Questionnaire...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNwgsV_R46iNhWkxYsoHaM8cNPI-O1GeViaf0m4vOOhabBOpQVOie1YQdCLMwew2V6cVh726wU2-HNauC4umyDBZZ4XFsEsn_rlvRl3N7xuzz9KNUVbgbcPA6JxcfOZBw4rmv09lR0uug/s1600/SCAN0020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNwgsV_R46iNhWkxYsoHaM8cNPI-O1GeViaf0m4vOOhabBOpQVOie1YQdCLMwew2V6cVh726wU2-HNauC4umyDBZZ4XFsEsn_rlvRl3N7xuzz9KNUVbgbcPA6JxcfOZBw4rmv09lR0uug/s1600/SCAN0020.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88bcBaiVMbedDon2bHBDmxrAC1wETYgyKSb2Pfto8blgg9Qj8FZ158pwOGVsERwYpRXfbOoqsUr073yUcoycJl0EhKZqjd_rFHgcWtZnf_jjIzS5t8jPFgoJ5dahXneeb3Ph0FHUdnWA/s1600/SCAN0021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj88bcBaiVMbedDon2bHBDmxrAC1wETYgyKSb2Pfto8blgg9Qj8FZ158pwOGVsERwYpRXfbOoqsUr073yUcoycJl0EhKZqjd_rFHgcWtZnf_jjIzS5t8jPFgoJ5dahXneeb3Ph0FHUdnWA/s1600/SCAN0021.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>...Just thought I'd share with you guys my responses to the 'AnOther Magazine Questionnaire' from the Spring/Summer 2011 issue :) hope you're all having a lovely summer!</b></span></span></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-6349080043621715682011-07-18T21:31:00.002+01:002011-07-18T21:53:43.389+01:00Central Saint Maarten's?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvkBFNzt4HrNXBeEcdfS2nRKF8W5d8EUyAthc3NkXSvd6N6ixxrJ2WYr-nNYoZnM7cyFKTLImZi1obKfNRDeg1jZclXOQa8KAUPgmgDT0Dcb6dERwJhXG8fcOb5Zh1AzfaqrzZLoc6cM/s1600/Recently+Updated79.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvkBFNzt4HrNXBeEcdfS2nRKF8W5d8EUyAthc3NkXSvd6N6ixxrJ2WYr-nNYoZnM7cyFKTLImZi1obKfNRDeg1jZclXOQa8KAUPgmgDT0Dcb6dERwJhXG8fcOb5Zh1AzfaqrzZLoc6cM/s640/Recently+Updated79.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJDpGmTq8wGZz6diSo4cDln6dCwZxC8hnhL-eDnpmRlu-44MMU2isdmG9u11w7R3gMd5nYKx1K1n_vS48TtVPADit7cqadkOZE77gbQnJ0V4UyL6c-UyJIoaIciQNXUXAw9DnWoAfy65I/s1600/scanlips.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJDpGmTq8wGZz6diSo4cDln6dCwZxC8hnhL-eDnpmRlu-44MMU2isdmG9u11w7R3gMd5nYKx1K1n_vS48TtVPADit7cqadkOZE77gbQnJ0V4UyL6c-UyJIoaIciQNXUXAw9DnWoAfy65I/s640/scanlips.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJownGN3tVmM7ezL0jmL8N1XwtxsIAfAfc54_h6U8jdsyhyphenhyphenQhprkwU72VqY0jhACzZcUXBUU5iK4QUmc9NmhziwXF56j4I2tbXnOT0qglHKkS9UvDgp6WGcH143CyvxyVbR_Q0aGu60l0/s1600/Recently+Updated82.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJownGN3tVmM7ezL0jmL8N1XwtxsIAfAfc54_h6U8jdsyhyphenhyphenQhprkwU72VqY0jhACzZcUXBUU5iK4QUmc9NmhziwXF56j4I2tbXnOT0qglHKkS9UvDgp6WGcH143CyvxyVbR_Q0aGu60l0/s640/Recently+Updated82.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">60s Dragshow-Tropical Vacation-Comme Des Garcons/Junya Watanabe-Jean Paul Gaultier (Prada SS2011 shirtsleeves) vibes? yeah I'm down on that. Maarten Van Der Horst~<i>watch this space~</i>Coming Soon!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div> <object classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=9,0,28,0" height="250" width="300"><param name="movie" value="http://8tracks.com/mixes/352480/player_v3"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://8tracks.com/mixes/352480/player_v3" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="250" allowscriptaccess="always" ></embed></object><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/HotSugar"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ea9999;">CHARLOTTE CORDAY</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ea9999;"> </span></b><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/HotSugar"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #ea9999;">hot sugar</span></a> <b>THE GIRLS SAY </b>groove armada <b>GIRLS </b>the prodigy <b>WATERS OF NAZARETH </b>justice <b>CONGRATULATIONS </b>mgmt <b><a href="http://www.soundcloud.com/pixel-fix"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #9fc5e8;">SEE YOU SO</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #9fc5e8;"> </span></b><a href="http://www.myspace.com/pixelfixmusic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #9fc5e8;">pixel</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #9fc5e8;"> </span><a href="http://www.facebook.com/pixelfixmusic"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #9fc5e8;">fix</span></a> <b>NEW JACK </b>the prodigy <b>BECAUSE I GOT HIGH </b>afroman</span>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-21630231195814189932011-07-17T20:26:00.002+01:002011-07-18T02:09:33.884+01:00THE PCP DRESS<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJ-56_mdwIMXm_7ZX79wSfaf4QcQU5MT4TeOS6oaRhqyt2O2Syr2E6J73qaIgd_7NoD4Gm-gsvGSCWmeWI-7dEABOXnAesdncXItpdKwc07UL6lFR7NAQteE4_P6YWVXvjP8ACuYIbck/s1600/SCAN0012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJ-56_mdwIMXm_7ZX79wSfaf4QcQU5MT4TeOS6oaRhqyt2O2Syr2E6J73qaIgd_7NoD4Gm-gsvGSCWmeWI-7dEABOXnAesdncXItpdKwc07UL6lFR7NAQteE4_P6YWVXvjP8ACuYIbck/s1600/SCAN0012.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">A design from my last project</span></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-24689244913813608592011-07-15T11:53:00.000+01:002011-07-15T11:53:01.284+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJt4v_iefTreAi17VrV6X7fEODR-O2W0YiIz5BjIjhboblwK0yZDg6eVBiCCByFwGWzTioQ0kkSFxc9p41_HYlgSYu4AQQUjgi2tCXqP_AUEP9ulSv5nY3vw3F49jyw5DhJTE2ENvyfY/s1600/SCAN0018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="464" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoJt4v_iefTreAi17VrV6X7fEODR-O2W0YiIz5BjIjhboblwK0yZDg6eVBiCCByFwGWzTioQ0kkSFxc9p41_HYlgSYu4AQQUjgi2tCXqP_AUEP9ulSv5nY3vw3F49jyw5DhJTE2ENvyfY/s640/SCAN0018.JPG" width="640" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black; font-size: x-small;"></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;">Givenchy Resort 2012</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCXPD15pPT1HelCcg0TDo1vWL637c4oDX7JNEkNtft_MZDsPtw6YxYM7ZX4JOoOFN9Ten_-mpnFK8eG2QEXRBn3_ahkZLu4JZeBO4Zp4Uroy9fRzue3DgnDrXXUz6l39abqh9szbjYD34/s1600/collection.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCXPD15pPT1HelCcg0TDo1vWL637c4oDX7JNEkNtft_MZDsPtw6YxYM7ZX4JOoOFN9Ten_-mpnFK8eG2QEXRBn3_ahkZLu4JZeBO4Zp4Uroy9fRzue3DgnDrXXUz6l39abqh9szbjYD34/s640/collection.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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</span></span></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-43956605462353412552011-07-10T21:17:00.001+01:002011-07-10T21:20:58.626+01:00...and the Sky was made of Amethyst<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmkdOR_Am1wWbj_-ZCpsWNv9wXkN4ECHWq_DOCQ-vUxz-EtgTmCdCaSaUmzTlpV_kxBb3fODYpVDxx6ZRn9brXrpmAzp5oXER1DyL564YVBDaM0Bdrw0eQJ1Xx8RZu0w3ysqxLHm6m44/s1600/bacon_painting1946.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYmkdOR_Am1wWbj_-ZCpsWNv9wXkN4ECHWq_DOCQ-vUxz-EtgTmCdCaSaUmzTlpV_kxBb3fODYpVDxx6ZRn9brXrpmAzp5oXER1DyL564YVBDaM0Bdrw0eQJ1Xx8RZu0w3ysqxLHm6m44/s1600/bacon_painting1946.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2iIZqbGuxLCPso4WeFyculUWPYZxfODZtApYbrkl7PqprkV8hwW5WbtpDUOTLyA0fodMzszQkFVXVP4cWZAe4QXqUC1q0z51WR3I_P3zddtXeLc3xfAeZJfMB63_SrRPppNP9bp0QPo/s1600/article-1385905-0C017DE800000578-197_634x711-e1305196298417.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn2iIZqbGuxLCPso4WeFyculUWPYZxfODZtApYbrkl7PqprkV8hwW5WbtpDUOTLyA0fodMzszQkFVXVP4cWZAe4QXqUC1q0z51WR3I_P3zddtXeLc3xfAeZJfMB63_SrRPppNP9bp0QPo/s400/article-1385905-0C017DE800000578-197_634x711-e1305196298417.jpg" width="366" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcg_u3PX2kse4zxP6gD_G8HLTDWzzqJKD3AV7edQtt5Mu_sZZyHRWywtJpgu5itVr-84mA8s5UE8oHbpRbNTAKLnPRo50_NiOPtDcAgzlq2QjMRvK5wD_dSVgE1xIbH5DH9hQNBRKSitU/s1600/tumblr_ll6bkwFPvs1qzfya1o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="338" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcg_u3PX2kse4zxP6gD_G8HLTDWzzqJKD3AV7edQtt5Mu_sZZyHRWywtJpgu5itVr-84mA8s5UE8oHbpRbNTAKLnPRo50_NiOPtDcAgzlq2QjMRvK5wD_dSVgE1xIbH5DH9hQNBRKSitU/s400/tumblr_ll6bkwFPvs1qzfya1o1_500.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/CwzMuDi7PcU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpvBLPYvSESWjqUlQMSx0q64Yc5c-yV9Z2AaFN5Wby2SR1xJCDiy4cscw4TEQ1a5LsTbmyG5gE1O_7co_VplK8pHNO_hEbtsimkpep5y7AaWFHFEfJ5DA7dHbUIRH88_zbDAT6y5bcwk/s1600/34_perry-ogden_photo-of-francis-bacon-reece-mews-studio.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="344" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigpvBLPYvSESWjqUlQMSx0q64Yc5c-yV9Z2AaFN5Wby2SR1xJCDiy4cscw4TEQ1a5LsTbmyG5gE1O_7co_VplK8pHNO_hEbtsimkpep5y7AaWFHFEfJ5DA7dHbUIRH88_zbDAT6y5bcwk/s640/34_perry-ogden_photo-of-francis-bacon-reece-mews-studio.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gmIe5qfoHkr2oFdurpalL1cpNBJOj5eC1aXGBZgApb2AREsj3uQT2fnIDWMQpYN6GAM-M3sVz-1bwXLwvE4pSTqYh5rOqW160cutQWP4Yw4HyAFj2cZua_hoygy6A1_QT1Q2Q4RKHLs/s1600/francis-bacon-chimpanzee-1955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_gmIe5qfoHkr2oFdurpalL1cpNBJOj5eC1aXGBZgApb2AREsj3uQT2fnIDWMQpYN6GAM-M3sVz-1bwXLwvE4pSTqYh5rOqW160cutQWP4Yw4HyAFj2cZua_hoygy6A1_QT1Q2Q4RKHLs/s1600/francis-bacon-chimpanzee-1955.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPh8DsgBnOnhqlBDK53gNxa9SA9yz-ovf9DDiJ-gq_-X5V9r4r5dhOSDmWN1-WSHyOvJ8r3SvDxCYVSyXgnuJETE04lh13MUW5b2kwcKyBDk5vlVOBjljf_nS-ak9LdDSEhWrLUk31JRM/s1600/art-bacon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPh8DsgBnOnhqlBDK53gNxa9SA9yz-ovf9DDiJ-gq_-X5V9r4r5dhOSDmWN1-WSHyOvJ8r3SvDxCYVSyXgnuJETE04lh13MUW5b2kwcKyBDk5vlVOBjljf_nS-ak9LdDSEhWrLUk31JRM/s1600/art-bacon.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(paintings by Francis Bacon along with some photos of his studio-by ogden?-, 90s Comme Des Garcons photo from Italian Vogue, random shiny room photo and VIOLET which rules.)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm really feeling Francis Bacon right now; for me his work deals with composed and constricted conflictions over guilt and fear which is kind of where I am right now. I think that his message is best conveyed with his series of paintings known to the general art community as the 'screaming popes' because the figurehead of the catholic faith stands as basically the world leader in bigoted superstition and hatred; despite (supposedly) only wanting to be a positive influence. So I think he's conveying this internal confliction over naive 'good intentions' and evil ulterior motivation.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrPtM4ZorvIE1iLEk4bfGbG3-H7nF-3GGp7pldss3K17iaG9KfEFdyTmg8kkWt7lbilyfzQysBMUCXhW7-ENNqhZuxNXec2t4Ukmn1jN_hz8rxDtBTXuQudRi4XVvX1xEOxDBFAA4v8o/s1600/FrancisBacon-Study_after_Velazquez_II_1950.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhrPtM4ZorvIE1iLEk4bfGbG3-H7nF-3GGp7pldss3K17iaG9KfEFdyTmg8kkWt7lbilyfzQysBMUCXhW7-ENNqhZuxNXec2t4Ukmn1jN_hz8rxDtBTXuQudRi4XVvX1xEOxDBFAA4v8o/s1600/FrancisBacon-Study_after_Velazquez_II_1950.gif" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Basically he's illustrating these popes as naive characters whom, in their candid blindness to the truth have become the evil that they beheld and sought to erradicate - they've become villains in their misdirection and 'incidental' malintent.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsk1ylC1kG-zQkNiBC6tFEYjBu2eK9eTEXJt-K9spy4V6-BW1HE89dmEWOTSVgcKwjFXOtHJLTsTP3oPYYd4pDL3rdiqe23fxElyewrBcPeGteXCdGmlEEzvpSXGta31DTHHepaRNIWSE/s1600/innocent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsk1ylC1kG-zQkNiBC6tFEYjBu2eK9eTEXJt-K9spy4V6-BW1HE89dmEWOTSVgcKwjFXOtHJLTsTP3oPYYd4pDL3rdiqe23fxElyewrBcPeGteXCdGmlEEzvpSXGta31DTHHepaRNIWSE/s640/innocent.jpg" width="482" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's not so much of a direct attack on Catholicism as many people believe, in my interpretation, so much as it is a personification of the 'bad guy' in detest of his own status; and all he's done.</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcLZBCFjucDvMQ80-7TtOTx4Pvx61G8UiCALk3aHYz9i6hVcxFGOvfm47kz_nUcj4ip67xTRLy_PiU9rV97ojJh53K3A7Bb329RXHsCKb_4oZa0On8zJ_O7zkBTYHroYwmvX6PZpekjM/s1600/03b_29_bacon_300x350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLcLZBCFjucDvMQ80-7TtOTx4Pvx61G8UiCALk3aHYz9i6hVcxFGOvfm47kz_nUcj4ip67xTRLy_PiU9rV97ojJh53K3A7Bb329RXHsCKb_4oZa0On8zJ_O7zkBTYHroYwmvX6PZpekjM/s320/03b_29_bacon_300x350.jpg" width="274" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">HELLA deep.</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-28886349994472735692011-07-10T11:28:00.002+01:002011-07-11T16:05:05.354+01:00I have a new favourite thing...besides drinking vodka shots home alone at 10am and screaming Stevie Nicks songs until the neighbours call the national guard (or whatever the british equivalent is)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EnYn6o0NJ2Gr0aX5NmjEaTQ9vyskVWjpuOiU2detr4tbpIPdP840PkTGGabSuxK2kaLUCIO2qdKuYbPtSLjd95di9Cs9Jyk4_462GrVECfcaa-bSVZ-R_NiTWTmdKMI0kY9DoDwDoEY/s1600/tumblr_ln4btjiwYY1qzcdh3o1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8EnYn6o0NJ2Gr0aX5NmjEaTQ9vyskVWjpuOiU2detr4tbpIPdP840PkTGGabSuxK2kaLUCIO2qdKuYbPtSLjd95di9Cs9Jyk4_462GrVECfcaa-bSVZ-R_NiTWTmdKMI0kY9DoDwDoEY/s1600/tumblr_ln4btjiwYY1qzcdh3o1_400.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AKqH5xYQx4FAb3MBhtMXbTmQnJfmgr4ewCBMjC02__sgRRJMvkgzDXn4HfyUQUyB2wW9FO5-3hLks56K3s8XyzNsvKqLAMjHkORlGAXxTm9GLDYfITeGvde0DCrbW_YACDQL1wWZjuI/s1600/tumblr_lngtjvR6001qzy6u9o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3AKqH5xYQx4FAb3MBhtMXbTmQnJfmgr4ewCBMjC02__sgRRJMvkgzDXn4HfyUQUyB2wW9FO5-3hLks56K3s8XyzNsvKqLAMjHkORlGAXxTm9GLDYfITeGvde0DCrbW_YACDQL1wWZjuI/s1600/tumblr_lngtjvR6001qzy6u9o1_500.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdXDv9Nal-AefrfHjADD80IlHMVs1FCrvrzqWEpwID1LgN7vkITEQ11-IPjula58PfEwJ_uSrhrotOOP_dnWZOmfilIPMlueXvvfNzV5OYnmsRzOAhZJO-u6LpZNb8v48bqNHLI2DGroM/s1600/tumblr_llj54sRALp1qj0ly5o1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdXDv9Nal-AefrfHjADD80IlHMVs1FCrvrzqWEpwID1LgN7vkITEQ11-IPjula58PfEwJ_uSrhrotOOP_dnWZOmfilIPMlueXvvfNzV5OYnmsRzOAhZJO-u6LpZNb8v48bqNHLI2DGroM/s1600/tumblr_llj54sRALp1qj0ly5o1_500.jpg" /></a></div>and that my friend, is agreeing with everything that Courtney Love says<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYW1YBL96dIf48-b7iNnWvJq6T8rNDPO6KOYRy7blU80DSoCsw_x5lu3UqCGF35volulShfwhckbolMoOfWgOZcRKCiXdedJg1IdrT1tvOHtZvC4SZkrmWL3xZibBx7CfGrFGeE1Wyq4c/s1600/tumblr_lkyptt8a541qhei2io1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYW1YBL96dIf48-b7iNnWvJq6T8rNDPO6KOYRy7blU80DSoCsw_x5lu3UqCGF35volulShfwhckbolMoOfWgOZcRKCiXdedJg1IdrT1tvOHtZvC4SZkrmWL3xZibBx7CfGrFGeE1Wyq4c/s1600/tumblr_lkyptt8a541qhei2io1_500.gif" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HJkFmqkfRfWUoDT9wmolaQVzrq0Yr1SLJ1VstwsiU4fgTIdbAzrVj1PSBcUBOQ3vbpebXhCJbbron0mEz0X2eF0XKrejDER5zEmQ-TCXrwXILJIK7vikcjOqGbewRmybWxya4QT68Wg/s1600/tumblr_lmipoh9YSl1qbpfsjo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6HJkFmqkfRfWUoDT9wmolaQVzrq0Yr1SLJ1VstwsiU4fgTIdbAzrVj1PSBcUBOQ3vbpebXhCJbbron0mEz0X2eF0XKrejDER5zEmQ-TCXrwXILJIK7vikcjOqGbewRmybWxya4QT68Wg/s320/tumblr_lmipoh9YSl1qbpfsjo1_500.jpg" width="238" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzeHbwdy91dpRrSBK3jy_m24hCicaxGICJA8_oSfTxqqP2JseMmM-YgydJonDX7PHRm-kCC5G5wverd0ZqwyQrzMyj4kQi9Lt1A-8lQAFmO9EjaNA1Ox9IrdOjYIGJI76XhZbPszC5U8I/s1600/tumblr_lkyp23lzwe1qzhuoho1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzeHbwdy91dpRrSBK3jy_m24hCicaxGICJA8_oSfTxqqP2JseMmM-YgydJonDX7PHRm-kCC5G5wverd0ZqwyQrzMyj4kQi9Lt1A-8lQAFmO9EjaNA1Ox9IrdOjYIGJI76XhZbPszC5U8I/s320/tumblr_lkyp23lzwe1qzhuoho1_500.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx301T41SN43vOYg05linvEwWhsAsr4T7i0w83Gi6ISyOO_cUVyTc5IYSdgpBMp8iBg5s8AoW4B8JUXcbaAzVdcDM69QcoYk5fkcH2rql0uM7kp5cC-pL844Q-QTE1XhcKYOb4wUmYna0/s1600/tumblr_ll3qxww7zD1qj4utqo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx301T41SN43vOYg05linvEwWhsAsr4T7i0w83Gi6ISyOO_cUVyTc5IYSdgpBMp8iBg5s8AoW4B8JUXcbaAzVdcDM69QcoYk5fkcH2rql0uM7kp5cC-pL844Q-QTE1XhcKYOb4wUmYna0/s320/tumblr_ll3qxww7zD1qj4utqo1_500.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>so much love for THE LOVE</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-55466314532115193802011-07-09T21:54:00.004+01:002011-07-10T00:24:40.529+01:00muh ruhturn tuh bluggingI never really left you, blogspot, you know that. I was tempted away by a fantasy life of hard work and top-notch fornication with the perfect man - however while we both learnt that we are perfect for eachother, it simply came at the wrong time... so here I am. I'm sorry I left you all for ages and I won't leave you again, I promise.<br />
<br />
Even his name sets me off, seriously. We broke up only yesterday and while part of me feels like I'm already over him; I'm mourning. Because we spent over a month apart before we officiated upon our separation I'm not hysterical anymore, but when we started to break up about a month ago I felt like I was going to die and I've never cried so much in my life; and when I thought we'd never speak again I nearly drank myself to alcohol poisoning (drinking on my own has become my new favourite thing... more about that later.) But we're still friends (not just friendLY, actual <b>friends</b>) so I'm not dead or hooked up to a stomach pump.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I've been singing this song backwards for days now<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/dJWoOiiewI0?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm the accused here, this song is against <i>me</i><br />
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/KrZHPOeOxQQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>expect bullet-posts of random crap in the future - I'm emotional and desperate for an outlet... I ALMOST STARTED A <b>TumblR! </b>PEAPLE!!! :OJack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-30265957147407269152011-05-07T22:29:00.000+01:002011-05-07T22:29:08.229+01:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4wxmdl8GDEUVqowDklrR9bGhLNlI58WffUfwRXC77MOWsVeZ3azIO709YuKAd41WpO8aFkifn9rMOCh27X-gx0pHODjZT6A8yc-E9htWc9Zkp_u8cV6bMr2K4O1ZRcPx4ZXbr62B6Jg/s1600/Recently+Updated77.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv4wxmdl8GDEUVqowDklrR9bGhLNlI58WffUfwRXC77MOWsVeZ3azIO709YuKAd41WpO8aFkifn9rMOCh27X-gx0pHODjZT6A8yc-E9htWc9Zkp_u8cV6bMr2K4O1ZRcPx4ZXbr62B6Jg/s640/Recently+Updated77.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">--------------------------------------------------------------------^CherryBomb</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie0tW-yC8CbD-IW_A-rEQQjZMffYrqO_y0bHjTUD0_Z20IGFmNHaiuJhvONpPvnyMepGY9XD17aurlrWRVs0EgN7A03V_j3wc6NegBzkzH1MiBWoIpKWGhydugxCAXDTDTVRNZbZvkH-I/s1600/Joan-Jett.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="378" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie0tW-yC8CbD-IW_A-rEQQjZMffYrqO_y0bHjTUD0_Z20IGFmNHaiuJhvONpPvnyMepGY9XD17aurlrWRVs0EgN7A03V_j3wc6NegBzkzH1MiBWoIpKWGhydugxCAXDTDTVRNZbZvkH-I/s640/Joan-Jett.55.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkyxtKozKaCAV4KUlbhmfuf0j4IkzwqLVmP1iMER0E1TUf3KqEvyZhg7gAdz0evOYTsNiF_bLZ2nU_zRf8jzEP3AWqkuVEiaH4FnAjgIBnU4XgHDDbn4bcDxbLU8TLBnH_LMVwRJM9dCk/s1600/600full-joan-jetthjk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkyxtKozKaCAV4KUlbhmfuf0j4IkzwqLVmP1iMER0E1TUf3KqEvyZhg7gAdz0evOYTsNiF_bLZ2nU_zRf8jzEP3AWqkuVEiaH4FnAjgIBnU4XgHDDbn4bcDxbLU8TLBnH_LMVwRJM9dCk/s1600/600full-joan-jetthjk.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Sketches from '30 Years of Japanese Fashion' - Exhibition at the Barbican ArtGallery in London</span></span></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-19821229085001806902011-04-17T01:57:00.002+01:002011-04-17T02:09:18.322+01:00That 'Non-Conformatist' Malarky<div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Once upon a time there was a young primary school teacher who lived with her husband and child in Harrow. Day after day she would teach children how to read and write, add and draw and then she would come home and cook dinner for her husband, Derek. The two would chat about their days and feed their young son. They would tuck him in and go to bed just as the ten ‘o’ clock news ended and turn off their bedside lamps at the same time; and in the mornings the cycle would simply begin again. She never questioned her life, she was happy, she had </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">everything</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> she’d ever dreamed of. A nice house, a nice job, a nice husband and the beginnings of a nice family; her life was a common fairytale.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Then one day she met the dark prince. He was tall, handsome, tattooed, pierced and totally wrong for her. Her type was conservative, caring men with stable jobs at banks or something to that effect; she should </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">not</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> have fallen for the guy with leather trousers and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">wild </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">hair.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgQDx-IHwDZIA7XRndploDZNL2tCDSNMOP2o9Ty3gxDoWOEwJ_MG8uqIFSwFvDiXdK1jMlgGi39nJ5bm5_tBDCw1PanvLmYafycYa2wUgItGqWlpuA0FXakqoHhxRc3H6ARgVHAkWVbA/s1600/Recently+Updated69.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpgQDx-IHwDZIA7XRndploDZNL2tCDSNMOP2o9Ty3gxDoWOEwJ_MG8uqIFSwFvDiXdK1jMlgGi39nJ5bm5_tBDCw1PanvLmYafycYa2wUgItGqWlpuA0FXakqoHhxRc3H6ARgVHAkWVbA/s640/Recently+Updated69.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Vivienne Westwood and Malcolm McLaren were an awkward item, a myth, ‘The Primary School Teacher and The Punk.’ It sounds like one of those dating fairytales; like the one about the one night stand that turned into a lifetime, or the guy who couldn’t commit suddenly turning up at your doorstep with a ring and a wedding planner.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Vivienne Westwood as we know her emerged from the chrysalis of her mousy primary-school teacher job, leaving her quiet life in Harrow behind her she moved to Clapham with Malcolm and set up shop on Kings Road selling leather fetish gear as casual apparel. “If we could get the girls on the corner and outside the bank to wear dog-collars it would mean something.” The response from the rest of the world was disgust, parents disowned their punk children; people actually protested against it, Westwood was condemned by Vogue and the government for being ‘poisonous to society; inciting anarchy through offensive clothing.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoUafy0m7pr8aIvJynfITJQVum4voYUVazNf7Esw5e0icsoZjnfbbPli6RvRzIp9MUTspr-xOAvwNS7ypBd15yZ5nV_B-H3zg2i19VERPDxMsQAMitcPnsobGptJqGnfs0W36_cxuciUc/s1600/Recently+Updated72.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoUafy0m7pr8aIvJynfITJQVum4voYUVazNf7Esw5e0icsoZjnfbbPli6RvRzIp9MUTspr-xOAvwNS7ypBd15yZ5nV_B-H3zg2i19VERPDxMsQAMitcPnsobGptJqGnfs0W36_cxuciUc/s640/Recently+Updated72.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Back in time fifty years and the exact same thing was happening to another woman. Gabrielle, then in her late 30s, had just closed a painful chapter in her life. After years of happiness the one man she loved evaporated from her life, engulfed in the twisted metal and burnt rubber of a car accident outside Paris, where they had lived together. Weeks later, when she had finally finished mourning the last nine years, she reviewed her life. She was the aristocratic mistress to the heir of a fortune in the textile industry, the man had never been faithful–even marrying another woman–and now he was dead. She still had her Millinary shop, but he had financed it – the outlook was bleak.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> A lesser woman would’ve given up and accepted a permanent state of shameful solitude, being unmarried in your 30s back then was considered detestably dishonourable. Gabrielle hated the idea that everything that she had gone through might simply be overlooked by everyone she met. She hated the fact that people simply assumed that her life would wilt into a state of recluse and thought that the most dignified way for her to exist henceforth would be as a ashamed spinster. It was here, in this sinking situation, that she decided to swim; Gabrielle became Coco Chanel.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWYlcxh8eZmAoz1MgyR7uGpROWigYpT8Nj6oJTKhSdz-c3q1W2VL_0QRcu04jn9rBlN1JalOl1xzARGzaSjRE8b6uGMfB9q5Rgly3xaFitnn4KyEdfVrwvsUQstQmvQ6EV5SssH4VlSQ/s1600/cocochanel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLWYlcxh8eZmAoz1MgyR7uGpROWigYpT8Nj6oJTKhSdz-c3q1W2VL_0QRcu04jn9rBlN1JalOl1xzARGzaSjRE8b6uGMfB9q5Rgly3xaFitnn4KyEdfVrwvsUQstQmvQ6EV5SssH4VlSQ/s1600/cocochanel.jpg" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Few people ever get the chance to be inspirations, but both Vivienne Westwood and Chanel chose to lead by example, they didn’t want to disappear into nothingness. Chanel could’ve sold her shop and moved to Normandy to live as a hermitic unmarried wretch, secluded by society for her marital status and died a scary old lady. Westwood could’ve simply sat tight in her job as a teacher, she would hold PTA meetings, break up fights on the playground and mark spelling books until she keeled over. They chose not to, They chose to rise above mediocrity and became two of the most powerful forces in fashion.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Chanel made clothes that didn't hurt or require a team of people to tie you into them, she cut self harm out of fashion entirely; favoring the elegance of drapery instead of the life-threatening pitfalls of corsetry. Chanel's designs joined the tidal wave social movement of the time edging ever closer to sex equality; no longer did you have to be in pain in order to be attractive, you could dance, get drunk and have sex without incurring injury or damaging their over-done clothes, all of a sudden women could just dress as comfortable as they favoured and look amazing. Men didn’t like this so much. Women, like their clothes, were getting ‘looser.’ They were starting to realise that they possessed the same integrity that men boasted, they were learning how to use their sexual power to their advantage, they were looking at their lives objectively; women were choosing to get married later, not to have children yet, to get divorces, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">to have real careers of their own</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">. A woman was no longer a baby-machine; she was a force to be reckoned with - </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">she </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">wore a suit to work.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk17oj7i7WRmIdtmeBQhi6vV5FxUYzqtnL_EsGPlA6RRGjUj1wDToXx2DkWEc_C5N0fZ-Tq0SN-JuIz1oqErkTfb0IcxzCYkallWVtgGZerlVY6uCT2M_1NOvA9chUewRik_Xdnn37evQ/s1600/Recently+Updated73.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk17oj7i7WRmIdtmeBQhi6vV5FxUYzqtnL_EsGPlA6RRGjUj1wDToXx2DkWEc_C5N0fZ-Tq0SN-JuIz1oqErkTfb0IcxzCYkallWVtgGZerlVY6uCT2M_1NOvA9chUewRik_Xdnn37evQ/s640/Recently+Updated73.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Where Chanel had fundamentally changed the landscape of women in society; Westwood created the look of an entirely new subculture: Punk. But spearheading social movements, as history has illustrated, is no mean feat, they needed a catalyst, something to get the word out - a vehicle to recruit new followers. Music. McLaren set up rock bands to transmit their style around the globe; most famously, ‘The Sex Pistols.’</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylxLwqVx1bU8pVJjOeV5s7Ps9BNbjLCgPVjBi7vjmX4DtNwgeR0dkXPBMH3laE2XFBr-cuyFdeEo0I9kGne0M7DCg189rDuHD39QIR17NvsZwv8G0e2aKXld3O6zKX8flp9siTWUmyVs/s1600/Recently+Updated71.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhylxLwqVx1bU8pVJjOeV5s7Ps9BNbjLCgPVjBi7vjmX4DtNwgeR0dkXPBMH3laE2XFBr-cuyFdeEo0I9kGne0M7DCg189rDuHD39QIR17NvsZwv8G0e2aKXld3O6zKX8flp9siTWUmyVs/s640/Recently+Updated71.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">It was an ingenious and groundbreaking business model, combining fashion and music. In hindsight there really was no way that they wouldn’t have reached their level of success. Every time Vivienne came out with a new ‘look’ Malcolm would set up a band to support their image, people would follow the band and find that Vivienne Westwood designed the look of every new act in the Punk World and every punk would want to look like them... the scheme always worked flawlessly, But what made it even better was that it wasn’t a business plan, it was simply the way they operated, and it worked beautifully for them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSZnj6OfJZgb5irLwCiNBuNjFggwjJL5271co2dDq9Es6aDb5fgB-1ks_Iqpkxw4pw81doHKx8HWh52inPetvtRiWjcsnLatA1AoO61PkAQ0ZT8I0Db0F2AtISyeEMjpxUUzUSTbHaFg/s1600/Cover.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCSZnj6OfJZgb5irLwCiNBuNjFggwjJL5271co2dDq9Es6aDb5fgB-1ks_Iqpkxw4pw81doHKx8HWh52inPetvtRiWjcsnLatA1AoO61PkAQ0ZT8I0Db0F2AtISyeEMjpxUUzUSTbHaFg/s320/Cover.jpg" width="243" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Vivienne Westwood’s use of tartan will probably last as one of her most recognised marks on the entire punk world, no one punk can call themselves as such until they are privy to a pair of tight red tartan trousers. She was the person who brought tartan into that world; that was </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">all her,</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> and it’s weird to think that one particular person could have that much of an effect on an entire genre of social outcast </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">but she did</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">, she made it</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">These two designers carry with them two different eras, Chanel brought sexual and social emancipation to women through respecting the female form–instead of butchering it with corsets–and Westwood emancipated the kids who didn’t want to look like everyone else, those who were looking for a look that was all their own and that they could fully express themselves with. She gave them weird clothes that freed them of conformatism and gave them something that was fundamentally lacking in society at the time, <i>individual identity</i>.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhi5tUdpr1hCNRu6OL3HAN5vl6LAryOGEC9IbMPZTv6c-Q7yPok9B_-8HRF-AxtHTnMWTjWbFosO5oVGa_YrrIVX5xoHacm3rLurneiU01IwIllGcbD33E10QLrJMuKIJV4T47rzbWis/s1600/Recently+Updated70.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img border="0" height="444" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIhi5tUdpr1hCNRu6OL3HAN5vl6LAryOGEC9IbMPZTv6c-Q7yPok9B_-8HRF-AxtHTnMWTjWbFosO5oVGa_YrrIVX5xoHacm3rLurneiU01IwIllGcbD33E10QLrJMuKIJV4T47rzbWis/s640/Recently+Updated70.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Chanel passed away in august 1971, she had been the fountain of style and taste for sixty years. She died at the age of 87 having worked right up to the last day. Two months later, Vivienne and her dark prince opened ‘SEX,’ their very first boutique together at 430 King’s Road.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk82acsiI3pOw2_DbhX-mKYLEc2cS_YZFJrXJZVcGCBBN_Pwwh7kP2mbXrFBmTrtT0hjlulyxnIQpThe5b4pzStrcyPjP4Bp0_z_yeI4PW8wgVIQXRdjPXkwd9OBkpP0_-RkXAG-VZtiE/s1600/50535000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="498" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk82acsiI3pOw2_DbhX-mKYLEc2cS_YZFJrXJZVcGCBBN_Pwwh7kP2mbXrFBmTrtT0hjlulyxnIQpThe5b4pzStrcyPjP4Bp0_z_yeI4PW8wgVIQXRdjPXkwd9OBkpP0_-RkXAG-VZtiE/s640/50535000.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fcwlU-vmvW140xPBNc6iM0YYkXFNWhBAw5oAedWZqTzBzthCCur_Q8dXZDX7yPPO6oWqJ6iTD2n36hRKBFhAAUTomUEnnmBMl8p4SpjOFmLb_0DiYm2u2sJUsFn62JCfphSbXtUE1cM/s1600/Recently+Updated68.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5fcwlU-vmvW140xPBNc6iM0YYkXFNWhBAw5oAedWZqTzBzthCCur_Q8dXZDX7yPPO6oWqJ6iTD2n36hRKBFhAAUTomUEnnmBMl8p4SpjOFmLb_0DiYm2u2sJUsFn62JCfphSbXtUE1cM/s640/Recently+Updated68.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-72359446933002936212011-03-28T00:13:00.003+01:002011-03-28T00:40:07.457+01:00I LV U<div class="MsoNormal">For about a year now I and countless other silly people across the world have kept a digital obsession. To me, it’s superficial, light-hearted and fun; to everyone else it’s self-indulgent, annoying and distasteful.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I do not speak of those annoying 'likes' on facebook (those ambiguous jokes that dumb friend of yours keeps clicking on); I speak of Louis Vuitton; and since discovering <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">louisvuitton.com</i> I haven’t been able to give up my obsession with a particular 'Keepall 45 with adjustable shoulder-strap in Monogram Canvas’ I jump back to that page every few minutes some times, just checking that it’s still there, that they haven’t lowered the price nor have they sold out permanently. I stare at all £815 of that bag for hours at a time; always with the seasoned conviction of a meth addict at an Iggy fest circa ’73.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">There is something about the label that means the best, whenever Louis Vuitton is flashed in front of us we end up in total awe at it, we demand to check the lining, see the proof card, hold it, grab it, squeeze it, cuddle it. But why? Essentially <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">it’s no different from the bags you see anywhere else</i>, my mother furtively reminds me whenever I muse about owning one. The most in-demand ones are essentially lacquered canvas with some leather stitched over it, unlike the incredibly unique look of the colourfully woven Damier Geant Canvas which was originally fabricated exclusively by Louis for the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Empress of Montijo</i> alone back in 1888. However, next to an LV monogram the Damier variant might as well be from <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">New Look</i>. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Everybody wants a slice of Vuitton, owning it means that you can, somehow spare to shell out hundreds of pounds simply to boast your own ability to shell out hundreds of pounds. People will do almost anything to get their hands on Vuitton, meaning that often shipping their product demands an armed convoy for its protection; unable then to procure the genuine article by force the next best thing is to resort to making their own, but for fakes <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">they’re really good</i>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was a few weeks ago when I found myself at a friend’s ‘Return from Holiday in Hong Kong’ dinner and after the second course came the knock off show-and-tell. “You’d never know, not even if you looked at the lining!” “It was only £30!” “It even got through counterfeit customs!” I was astounded, it was this season’s Boétie bag, and it was completely convincing, down to the polished <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">LOUIS VUITTON </i>chrome badge on the front, the buckle, the stitching, the entire thing was mind-blowingly perfect. It felt like real Vuitton, the smell of the leather, the whole bag was real, immaculate. I guess it was genuinely fake. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">“You literally find shops in the shopping centre selling them” She explained loudly, her phony sitting proudly in the centre of the table. “They’ll ask you if you’re interested then they’ll usher you into a little room and show you around, or they’ll give you this catalogue and tell you <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">I get you anything for twenty minutes, yes? </i>And sometimes they simply stand on the side of the road yelling <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">LOUIS VUITTON FORTY DOLLARS! FAKE DESIGNER! FAKE DESIGNER!</i>” The last remark eliciting pealing laughter from the dinner guests.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s not a stretch to imagine that with the entire world screaming for Vuitton in any shape or form that LV monogrammed fakes account for nearly a fifth of all counterfeit accessories seizures in the EU alone, and some even claim that<b> fakes could represent almost 60% of Louis Vuitton items currently in circulation right now.</b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I decided to chime in, when the laughter died down, and fly the flag for the real deal. “I wouldn’t ever buy a fake” A look of revulsion met me on the faces of everyone else there. “Even if no-one else ever found out, I would know. I would always know that my bag started its life in a sweatshop somewhere in China. It would never have seen the inside of a Louis Vuitton store. It would mean nothing. Having the real thing would mean that I would walk out the doors of Louis Vuitton carrying it in a Louis Vuitton carrier bag (everybody on Oxford Street would be staring at me carrying it around and think <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">you lucky bastard</i>.) I don’t want the bag for its iconography; I want to have earned it.” They all shut up.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I have recently given up my Vuitton-crazed habit. After months of mindless indulgence I have begun to realize that no matter how much I gawk at it I will never be able to reach into the screen and pull one out. I will never open my closet to magically find one waiting in the corner. Sadly, I<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> really</i> will have to earn it. Damn.</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-59457996597213350692011-03-25T12:47:00.001+00:002011-03-28T00:39:27.598+01:00independent<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86xGeHb7I9KNAXUY47J5LWgRewjEVdJHfXwRV-2j5Xw33Wpb2Z6LPm3bdn8NDL_TcsCx-pj9iV_U-a0VJzwzcEy7lhWUBz7vtGE089PGFYOIZy7slDJGPmG8iAmnUa0lOIDaLVtrcW38/s1600/vogitafeb03lindabg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg86xGeHb7I9KNAXUY47J5LWgRewjEVdJHfXwRV-2j5Xw33Wpb2Z6LPm3bdn8NDL_TcsCx-pj9iV_U-a0VJzwzcEy7lhWUBz7vtGE089PGFYOIZy7slDJGPmG8iAmnUa0lOIDaLVtrcW38/s640/vogitafeb03lindabg.jpg" width="480" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW91JUPVX_EGWmWB7SN6I16r6sytSiLmnRbQsCUQtfEx_1RxNF5bKCMcBHG8BCl3CGZ8Mp6e5UFJb9PM0MgjrVMvbRi8J40O_ypzzAwn9p17e7NakomAgPBvE1LsAZl7MA496F-McooQ4/s1600/Recently+Updated63.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW91JUPVX_EGWmWB7SN6I16r6sytSiLmnRbQsCUQtfEx_1RxNF5bKCMcBHG8BCl3CGZ8Mp6e5UFJb9PM0MgjrVMvbRi8J40O_ypzzAwn9p17e7NakomAgPBvE1LsAZl7MA496F-McooQ4/s640/Recently+Updated63.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktYxVSVuwfpHsFchFy-G6qzz8RFoR0OfFaLy3apGgLRFf7Sy_K_VUnYrTIyq1ZL6pDOyn4OjuzkJT436TBLbaMA7ip8wtKktf2Uyrd_injW8yIYP7D3_5XcYMTNU5DuNitxauyWMD748/s1600/Recently+Updated64.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiktYxVSVuwfpHsFchFy-G6qzz8RFoR0OfFaLy3apGgLRFf7Sy_K_VUnYrTIyq1ZL6pDOyn4OjuzkJT436TBLbaMA7ip8wtKktf2Uyrd_injW8yIYP7D3_5XcYMTNU5DuNitxauyWMD748/s640/Recently+Updated64.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Italian Vogue, Feb 2003</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Steven Meisel/Linda Evangelista</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-12732493259161061342011-03-17T21:46:00.003+00:002011-03-17T21:56:55.081+00:00BLEURGH!Basically I'm feeling like BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH because a certain BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH of a person has been a BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH to me in the manner of....<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/hRHM6lHaFrU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div>So I decided to ditch this BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH in manner of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr Collins, however my vernaculaic powers paled in comparison to the fact that I myself felt like a BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH because for some raisin I put too much gunk in my hair and because this particular BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH had found some way of tricking me into taking him back despite his BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH manner of treating me <i>last</i> <i>time. </i></div><div><br />
</div><div>And now we are...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/evXWj9jm2gY?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><div><br />
And even though this particular BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH was such a pedantic little BLEURGHBLEURGHBLEURGH to me that I should feel relieved that I no longer have to put up with him; I feel really un-evolved for having to go through the whole fiasco twice. So basically, I'm so Un-evolved that I'm a human appendix.</div><div><br />
</div><div>But this being a fashion blog (NAY! I say to blowing one's brains out all over a blog post just to relieve the malignant itch of vulnerable post-breakup-ness... NAY!) I shall leave you with the stylings of Jenny Lewis, the babe of Rilo Kiley (They're all babes I know but she's the one with the uterus.)<br />
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</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-65100927844116702812011-03-14T20:25:00.001+00:002011-03-15T10:49:13.255+00:00Lifting The MoodLondon is where I go, where I <i>belong</i>. Whenever I imagine my future; it's in London.<br />
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No, this is not going to be the post on the Yohji Yamamoto Exhibition, I didn't go last Saturday. The friend I was with had to cancel (and I didn't plan on going by myself); but the good news is that we're going probably next weekend.<br />
Don't you just love my poses in these pictures? I should <i>so</i> be a model: (from left) Happy, frowny, REALLY frowny. It's so difficult being a model...<br />
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This day I was in London with a friend because <i><a href="http://fucktheseshoes.blogspot.com/2011/02/photoshoot.html">this bazitch</a></i> had to take some photos of london in the wee hours for a photography project of hers and we decided to tag along. Of course, we decided that seeing as it was 8:00am we'd go and have breakfast somewhere in South Kensington, but nowhere was open. Literally NOWHERE. So we decided to wander around the neighborhood until a more civilized hour and look at buildings, take photos... blah blah. hence this sexy picture ^^^<br />
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So, THAT house was about the same width as a playing card, <i>seriously</i> it flew away in a breeze. And yes, that is me with this season's Prada book. When I saw it at Selfridges I was flicking through it like a cracked-up bitch lookin through a crackpipe catalogue (yeah, I'm going to stop saying 'bitch' it really isn't me) and the salespeople were sooo nice I even had a little chat with one about what we liked from her latest collection.<br />
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I'll probably do a post on the Prada book soon, but I need to find an A3 colour-scanner, and I'm beginning to doubt their existence... maybe they're just an office-supply myth, like the automatic stapler and the water cooler with legs....<br />
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DEETS:<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> Horse-in-a-Biker-Jacket T-Shirt, Drop-Crotch Jeans & Camo Shirt - All Saints</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> Fur Lapel Cardigan - Zara</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> Bag - Levi's (it has since died from old age and been replaced with a very chic Fred Perry)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> Sneakers - Converse</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"> <a href="http://fucktheseshoes.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-like-so-punk-yeah.html">All Jewelry MADE BY ME</a> (not that you can see it, sorry about the bad quality photos, it wasn't my camera)</span>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-3754786106968448412011-03-12T00:33:00.002+00:002011-03-12T11:05:58.685+00:00JapanI am rarely moved or disturbed by <i>News</i>, I tend to watch things and make a cynical remark; then go about my day. Parliament's recent buggery with Pensions? Cynical Remark. UN's hesitation to make decisive action in Libya? Cynical Remark. Wisconsin Union Ruling? ...well, you get the picture.<br />
There is rarely a day in my life where Japan doesn't come up in conversation with my friends, all of us are big fans of the works of its Fashion royal family, Miyake, Kawabuko, Yamamoto, Watanabe... and when we aren't talking about CDG; we're talking about its Technology, Harajuku, Architecture, The Kimono...<br />
Gertrude Stein once said "America is my Country and Paris is my hometown." And until I found Japan; I never truly understood what she was talking about.<br />
<br />
Today I was climbing into the car and moaning about how crowded the train was when my Dad told me to be quiet while he listened to an interview on Radio 4. I was too tired and exasperated to care so I just switched off whilst Dad drove me home. But despite my complacency, I couldn't help but detect certain words; certain 'key words' like "Ordeal... Tokyo... Richter Scale..." I asked Dad what had happened; and suddenly Japan didn't mean 'Issey Miyake' or 'Memoirs Of A Geisha' anymore, it meant Tragedy.<br />
<br />
Thousands of people are expected to have died in the events that unfolded in Japan; death tolls skyrocket in situations like this. It is vital that we forfeit our vanities at such a time as this for the sake of those suffering in our world. It is sad that some of us only ever feel moved to make a change, to <i>do something</i>, when a horrific disaster destabilizes something so rigidly close to our hearts. I am guilty of this, every time I buy a new magazine and a UNICEF pamphlet falls out I ignore it, drop it into the bin by my desk mentally chanting something along the lines of "I can't afford it..." When the truth is more like "I can't afford it seeing as I'm saving up for a new cardigan/T-shirt/Blackberry..." or, if put even more accurately "I can't afford it... I'm far too selfish."<br />
<br />
People often accuse fashion of being a cruel, selfish industry. Supp'd not enough of the milk of human kindness. Lacking humanity. And I always bat those remarks away, referencing projects like 'Fashion Cares.' But the truth is, even though <i>fashion</i> cares; sometimes <i>we forget to</i>.<br />
<br />
So please, save lives. Don't buy a T-shirt this weekend, donate £5/$5 to the Red Cross. Collect change from your friends, colleagues, family, neighbours. Make an effort. <i>Please.</i>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-36266257979498898552011-03-09T20:42:00.000+00:002011-03-09T20:42:33.105+00:00My Leather Wish List<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZxMIO8AL0moPjsGPWFulh9X7UJOHS71BzhJvT1NcGGnCc4a8idfAEqP1NxfBdKDSWzZoqDmMe6fcL4zJmg6MLnn6ooeE7rf-GoTOr2WuIJ6mgWVXwpSVugxPOlMrHKi97N_5C5ypG8Y/s1600/Recently+Updated50.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZxMIO8AL0moPjsGPWFulh9X7UJOHS71BzhJvT1NcGGnCc4a8idfAEqP1NxfBdKDSWzZoqDmMe6fcL4zJmg6MLnn6ooeE7rf-GoTOr2WuIJ6mgWVXwpSVugxPOlMrHKi97N_5C5ypG8Y/s640/Recently+Updated50.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">[Left-to-right, Burberry Prorsum, Marni, Comme Des Garcons Homme Plus]</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Basically I'm mad about Leather and I want all of this. NOW. But before I can have a Freja-esque wardrobe of Leather goods I'll need some money...</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-4373762941692730622011-03-07T23:25:00.001+00:002011-03-07T23:29:24.995+00:00Ain't No Place Like Paris<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">1.</span>Ricardo Tisci for Givenchy<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj47WAkSTiwp6rp5rDrZ9IG203mW2ZPwiKmDLunialEJseVp3EyTvQHFyK5Qwov-18hIUAwVCs0iYhEoPGd5ieHPtumeVOPxMku5xNatnGpMWeamky_GZVcLHHtZOA4UDMxGC_PWzCW_8I/s1600/Recently+Updated48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj47WAkSTiwp6rp5rDrZ9IG203mW2ZPwiKmDLunialEJseVp3EyTvQHFyK5Qwov-18hIUAwVCs0iYhEoPGd5ieHPtumeVOPxMku5xNatnGpMWeamky_GZVcLHHtZOA4UDMxGC_PWzCW_8I/s640/Recently+Updated48.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjklufajt6XztBKJlxSWWJ9eST8Nv-cjVH55c9CjCiPxh_OJTfXBAFKJhZ6cwZlr0pSOCgDtZgfFXNsJe0Vgk4LkOZY8VD8iz-f0MCu9dWTg5jRDxyul1XNwn1-4BSBegSKEz3Ks1xzfGw/s1600/Recently+Updated49.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjklufajt6XztBKJlxSWWJ9eST8Nv-cjVH55c9CjCiPxh_OJTfXBAFKJhZ6cwZlr0pSOCgDtZgfFXNsJe0Vgk4LkOZY8VD8iz-f0MCu9dWTg5jRDxyul1XNwn1-4BSBegSKEz3Ks1xzfGw/s640/Recently+Updated49.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">NEWSFLASH</span> L</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">ayering black leather jackets is in... like MEGA in for next fall (which is just as well seeing as it'll probably be FREEZING) <i>it also gives me another idea for saturday </i>(more on that later)</span></span></b><br />
<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">2. </span>Comme Des Garcons, Rei Kawabuko</span></span></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWK-glOJU1f1nnMPwWKwqD7KgH4FCFoKypGrJmJEl7_IBrahPsmKeEvdoRQXU9E7HAavPrlamweu4rrvYcuWdLq-aEkS0p2MnKiRMhoZB9_7eFjnR7UiVtUa1td2DvhCcjQfQXL_KflI/s1600/Recently+Updated51.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsWK-glOJU1f1nnMPwWKwqD7KgH4FCFoKypGrJmJEl7_IBrahPsmKeEvdoRQXU9E7HAavPrlamweu4rrvYcuWdLq-aEkS0p2MnKiRMhoZB9_7eFjnR7UiVtUa1td2DvhCcjQfQXL_KflI/s640/Recently+Updated51.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5W6PCanhofgiwXwbaL383Absd80HMt_0K7KjuUnybQsf8Dn9PT65m6j3mw88kEpUUUADcHMG9EBioQROYkOH5jESjzfI1vytDFUlCCFdQToXZF07f8T_dcqzRZfwH0jqN825VZk2z9s/s1600/Recently+Updated52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ5W6PCanhofgiwXwbaL383Absd80HMt_0K7KjuUnybQsf8Dn9PT65m6j3mw88kEpUUUADcHMG9EBioQROYkOH5jESjzfI1vytDFUlCCFdQToXZF07f8T_dcqzRZfwH0jqN825VZk2z9s/s640/Recently+Updated52.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Rei K is a babe, and this collection (in great contrast to her last) makes me all happy and fuzzy inside. The <a href="http://www.barbican.org.uk/artgallery/event-detail.asp?ID=10771">30 Years of Japanese Fashion</a> exhibition I went to last year might as well have been called the "Rei Kawabuko is a Babe" exhibition because it was practically <i>all</i> Comme des Garcons stuff... well, with a bit of Issey Miyake mixed in... anyway I thought that this collection was the most reminiscent of her earlier work, it's playful and light. And I think she's actually had it made a criminal offence to wear one of the pieces from this collection without Gold hair...<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">3. </span>Gareth Pugh<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9TMVF6QWmh_r53FnW_y7RHMh9mlU9tAmEdtK1wmFFSPWEjvUDVsLOfTD2fopvnf0xdwSYCVjOyM81Jw3szJVImSDX4hyiZCE9lfKdlj7p4hLYb8w86lE4VV4q3IAFm6fkxK-JrrieQhU/s1600/Recently+Updated54.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9TMVF6QWmh_r53FnW_y7RHMh9mlU9tAmEdtK1wmFFSPWEjvUDVsLOfTD2fopvnf0xdwSYCVjOyM81Jw3szJVImSDX4hyiZCE9lfKdlj7p4hLYb8w86lE4VV4q3IAFm6fkxK-JrrieQhU/s640/Recently+Updated54.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_pIjcS9qhZ5sCrFriG4nCyzehvghn4jc4eIOvOqA53btgCIwW62LSK2BvXb_5K21fy_jLW5_R76iQcRPFTE2W2tjUf0YarfPlUMYqy1Ux7m0ieF-CIsGA_iiSUkQLk9YKYCr5sxQn9E/s1600/Recently+Updated55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV_pIjcS9qhZ5sCrFriG4nCyzehvghn4jc4eIOvOqA53btgCIwW62LSK2BvXb_5K21fy_jLW5_R76iQcRPFTE2W2tjUf0YarfPlUMYqy1Ux7m0ieF-CIsGA_iiSUkQLk9YKYCr5sxQn9E/s640/Recently+Updated55.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFr_mykRJLF6Ta22MeCe2PtjmacnO0U2ZbYWIFhyphenhyphen2BqtmfI8V-UR8k-n1WeTLKnYzxhO-0Zb_HXGjnZ3HCJxMeSf2MfxA0Qxs-c6pzOwxpYpVO9hWni8kW36mJcvj0qfIDfLW-c8Evq_A/s1600/Recently+Updated53.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFr_mykRJLF6Ta22MeCe2PtjmacnO0U2ZbYWIFhyphenhyphen2BqtmfI8V-UR8k-n1WeTLKnYzxhO-0Zb_HXGjnZ3HCJxMeSf2MfxA0Qxs-c6pzOwxpYpVO9hWni8kW36mJcvj0qfIDfLW-c8Evq_A/s640/Recently+Updated53.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>Gareth Pugh rules my world, and this season he ventured into the unknown... <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">C</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: lime; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">O</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">L</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: yellow; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">O</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: orange; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">U</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">R</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">And he really ran with it! He's done stuff with metallics in the past but electric blue!? it's so out of left field! and I believe that he's created the most elegant dresses of Paris so far with those flowing capes; the black <i>and</i> blue one is my favorite... Pugh jackets are, in my mind, as monumental as their Chanel counterparts. I actually saw someone walking down Park Lane in the same one as Lady Gaga and I very nearly threw myself at her screaming: "YOU HAVE THE GREATEST TASTE!" but I didn't seeing as I was with my gran at the time and she would've told my mum... </span><br />
<br />
Maybe it's presumptuous of me to do a 'best collections' post on PARIS before Chanel tomorrow; but hey; if it's monumental (<i>if? </i>hah!) I'll do a big ol' post about it and tell you just how jealous I am of my best friend's J12... <i>GREEN with envy.</i>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-48937530050207756302011-03-05T23:43:00.001+00:002011-03-06T00:30:16.837+00:00Instead of getting a normal camera...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTMS_kCqOHXQScFbMBiP377soXwWh4aph-PMCbFvLV-ajE5R2CUhQBg1qx1X11b8HEAEezEEtp9y_pEw7zWgfbzH4AaqD3cVZHYxCKYnXT9SXjrIkw49bcZ8sAW9YmoBc3O5oA_9b6rg/s1600/Recently+Updated46.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTMS_kCqOHXQScFbMBiP377soXwWh4aph-PMCbFvLV-ajE5R2CUhQBg1qx1X11b8HEAEezEEtp9y_pEw7zWgfbzH4AaqD3cVZHYxCKYnXT9SXjrIkw49bcZ8sAW9YmoBc3O5oA_9b6rg/s640/Recently+Updated46.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKWKGclzjlZ25srGGE2GIOKzf8SSX6yWFfHqzKk0UlMeS_5Up-0v5MtAs7bz897JUfUXI31J1gE1_a1r6kpfhlW1yxVcdTKsgqYPvPZsbSyopL3bHFzLz5qb99fR_1Aejj4MY7UkQ3Nc/s1600/Recently+Updated47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="566" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEKWKGclzjlZ25srGGE2GIOKzf8SSX6yWFfHqzKk0UlMeS_5Up-0v5MtAs7bz897JUfUXI31J1gE1_a1r6kpfhlW1yxVcdTKsgqYPvPZsbSyopL3bHFzLz5qb99fR_1Aejj4MY7UkQ3Nc/s640/Recently+Updated47.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Why would you get a normal, boring little red Nikon when you could get a camera that does a 360 degree photo of the entire room? or one that's made out of... LEGO?!</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-60095615579363452022011-03-01T23:34:00.001+00:002011-03-01T23:46:08.980+00:00Future Beauty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo99JSK5fCmNex2Ma_tJtK6PKw6EQ_mTOTcu85pMTe1o_USsyWut3ptqPniY4jLHW1kG7yCkcPRtrUEys86BAJhcaNWj7fssXqqYT6caMOG7JxZ8DyXQSHKdW8Y4NtphgWjPRY2Z9OxDA/s1600/Recently+Updated45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo99JSK5fCmNex2Ma_tJtK6PKw6EQ_mTOTcu85pMTe1o_USsyWut3ptqPniY4jLHW1kG7yCkcPRtrUEys86BAJhcaNWj7fssXqqYT6caMOG7JxZ8DyXQSHKdW8Y4NtphgWjPRY2Z9OxDA/s640/Recently+Updated45.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">(Jenny Postle's Grad Collection from Central St Martins FAVOURITE COLLECTION OF LFW)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIK_X6-47OZoynvt5wE54jdtY-o-geMzmVrPnT4lRh0pO30RP_2PRYshDwtA8FizyuD7oFxHRT9lNr4qVTZzPMIL90N5PfiwcwBFQXUYbfYsbrH3ctI6K0q4vX-Vt9nQhvNaizYu_uwBE/s1600/extravagant-diy-magazines-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIK_X6-47OZoynvt5wE54jdtY-o-geMzmVrPnT4lRh0pO30RP_2PRYshDwtA8FizyuD7oFxHRT9lNr4qVTZzPMIL90N5PfiwcwBFQXUYbfYsbrH3ctI6K0q4vX-Vt9nQhvNaizYu_uwBE/s640/extravagant-diy-magazines-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Whenever things are looking bleak I tend to surround myself with whimsy; I guess that means I'm a whimsical person. Lately things - quite important things, to me anyways - have been looking less and less hopeful. I don't want this blog to turn into a jar where I keep all my self-afflicting thoughts but at the moment I'm having more of these kind of thoughts than anything else. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">[No 'Don't worry! It'll all work out fine!' messages please. I get my naive 'eternally-hopeful' fix from Lady Gaga lyrics, thankyouverymuch.]</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">That doesn't mean you should think of me as some sort of self-absorbed 'woe-is-me' child; I don't feel like that at all. I'm just pissed off right now. I think my taste always reflects the opposite of how I feel so this post shall be full of brightly-coloured happy frippery; But don't worry the next post will be all choc-a with grungy angst-y curio.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7r0NfiSTTjQvGRc3fBmHrjOOf6Z9oQTjSermJw7RJUpAvRuWLjobZlX7bFT9VJi443mkAj-v8PxQtwpA_NOhhRqGpZHrM7Yk07Ez4yLzNwykD1bDkOc-PRLnQQOfh2V6TX2v_9MXQM6o/s1600/2568176682_69e18c97e0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7r0NfiSTTjQvGRc3fBmHrjOOf6Z9oQTjSermJw7RJUpAvRuWLjobZlX7bFT9VJi443mkAj-v8PxQtwpA_NOhhRqGpZHrM7Yk07Ez4yLzNwykD1bDkOc-PRLnQQOfh2V6TX2v_9MXQM6o/s1600/2568176682_69e18c97e0.jpg" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_T8jnl5us90kRGIEwFJMamywJwF4p2jzXSLJO6SWLb1XRUmsxix6cgi8Ww4-oTgofoTBy1ZwbFU92j1D5X2nOv4FEf7CwVaWq86n_8LI26OmLGk1cpKkf3fbfh5mVVHCHtWjmiC7b5zM/s1600/lady-gaga-yoga-born-this-way-video.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="348" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_T8jnl5us90kRGIEwFJMamywJwF4p2jzXSLJO6SWLb1XRUmsxix6cgi8Ww4-oTgofoTBy1ZwbFU92j1D5X2nOv4FEf7CwVaWq86n_8LI26OmLGk1cpKkf3fbfh5mVVHCHtWjmiC7b5zM/s640/lady-gaga-yoga-born-this-way-video.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">How could I not have written a few words on #Bornthisway? Well, I plain and simply loved it, it was pretty and looked like what would've happened if Andy Warhol had a child with Dorothea Tanning and then their child took the place of Sig-Weave in Ridley's </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">'Alien'</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">. I had to watch it a few times but I think I finally understand it... Except I didn't get that that thing on her chin was an eye until the third or fourth time of seeing it... I was convinced it was a cap from a water bottle....</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhngWdCEt_LZaP32csc4HmD4JpQ2l1XFEjRd-l3wKUBNmD0HLJt_ZIX7p4aD6mYMipVfZ5yY48NQnUIdu-ScFws23SLibwjo6nMpq-SeBL-OqRg6hpqmNJItoVeWQOBUsdd28AzTachQyc/s1600/Picture%252B29.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="462" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhngWdCEt_LZaP32csc4HmD4JpQ2l1XFEjRd-l3wKUBNmD0HLJt_ZIX7p4aD6mYMipVfZ5yY48NQnUIdu-ScFws23SLibwjo6nMpq-SeBL-OqRg6hpqmNJItoVeWQOBUsdd28AzTachQyc/s640/Picture%252B29.png" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">I'm really feeling Petra Storrs today. Queen of intellectual whimsy, hang on. That sounds like I think of her as an architect of clever-for-its-own-sake fashion-masturbation; Which is NOT the case. I love these examples of her work mainly because I WANNA TOUCH IT. It's just so cute and light (whimsy) that it lifts my mood to the point where I might just add a little smiley face into this post... shall I? a little emoticon to brighten up my day?.....</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLEtABi3UIWmZWzNccXTBD8OW1bhL3L7JsKNFXF-OOHudIywnS61BzDCaoTF503OyhMCYMfqk6En99I7qTDMw-4ZZSPR-AHwKaOe-i3Sz4Mr4cpSqmjAXToQfjq06R55ByZ8zmugW_Bk/s1600/l_17c57fa1db90170be761a72be79e7278.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLEtABi3UIWmZWzNccXTBD8OW1bhL3L7JsKNFXF-OOHudIywnS61BzDCaoTF503OyhMCYMfqk6En99I7qTDMw-4ZZSPR-AHwKaOe-i3Sz4Mr4cpSqmjAXToQfjq06R55ByZ8zmugW_Bk/s640/l_17c57fa1db90170be761a72be79e7278.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">..... </span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">:)</span></span></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> THERE. I did it. Thats how happy her work makes me, I'm a smiley-face happy-chappy! I think why I like her so much could be relative to my special affection for 'paper designers.' Not all her work is paper but a lot of it is and I think her take on it is so FRESH! I mean, as much as I love Su Blackwell I've seen enough damn 'Alice In Wonderland'-esque pieces to last a few editorial seasons...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYALwZMAgW474pn7ckWtUKPzObLG_-kBGvufLx_1OSYvgnPeo7PmrcHQqwaC31yBWYhCOrJ_JVJq5bxM8qXNS2xzgd0AgPBqkcpGlHGaG2qIUVOT3BPBsQXVMwKVnO7qHhQLp0DBCw0g/s1600/petra2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMYALwZMAgW474pn7ckWtUKPzObLG_-kBGvufLx_1OSYvgnPeo7PmrcHQqwaC31yBWYhCOrJ_JVJq5bxM8qXNS2xzgd0AgPBqkcpGlHGaG2qIUVOT3BPBsQXVMwKVnO7qHhQLp0DBCw0g/s1600/petra2.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">So that is all from this Blog-child; I'm sure my neuroses will sort themselves out soon enough and flare up about something totally different Quick. As. A. Bee. so don't you worry! 'til then... FLY MY PRETTIES, FLY!</span></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-27939099612414367502011-02-26T22:55:00.003+00:002011-04-01T23:17:59.953+01:00Smokin'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2AepQ7NpMWR8kiyeIw29WZvS2zTp-6AoClMlhZpjWEm16_QSRMWFhQUQYa09hRg-NyhVlFj2RCEeAlroV6ovg-1te-Lr3Ukf1Yx_DZAXyH4LdJJPuPuNh6ESQJVmfa2MaZS8DkNx5bI/s1600/Recently+Updated42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_2AepQ7NpMWR8kiyeIw29WZvS2zTp-6AoClMlhZpjWEm16_QSRMWFhQUQYa09hRg-NyhVlFj2RCEeAlroV6ovg-1te-Lr3Ukf1Yx_DZAXyH4LdJJPuPuNh6ESQJVmfa2MaZS8DkNx5bI/s640/Recently+Updated42.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I packed up about four months ago, I used to be anything from six to ten-a-day, at one time 15-a-day. I smoked Marlboro Golds and had done so since fourteen. I quit mainly because I was thinking about quitting anyway, partially because I was cash-poor, and also because I was too ill to smoke at the time (I had the flu for about three weeks.) It was difficult, on top of the symptoms of the flu - typical cold symptoms and vomiting, loss of appetite and a burning throat - I had to deal with nicotine withdrawal symptoms. Which, unless you've given up smoking yourself, you wouldn't understand.<br />
I never started because my friends did it or simply to be cool, I did it because I liked it and that is that. I was aware of the 'peer pressure' but didn't allow that to be a factor in my judgement. I liked the smell, the fact that when me and my two best friends smoked we'd really <i>talk</i>, and also the fact that I could rely on it. Life's pretty unreliable, your friends can get pissed off with you and not talk to you for three weeks, you could drop from the top in the class to the underachiever, you could work endlessly on a project and still be eclipsed by some moron who hadn't worked half as hard as you did... A pack of 20 <i>always</i> cost £6.25 and when I lit up it was like all the bullshit in my life just 'lifted' <i>always</i>.<br />
I would smoke behind 'the trees' at school, with my head out of the window at home, and as I walked down the High-Street in town. I loved it, it became a part of me that even my most judgmental friends eventually accepted. I didn't let it change me, I was still the same guy and my teeth stayed white.<br />
The idea that what I was doing was <i>damaging </i>me felt ridiculous; <i>at the time</i>.<br />
<br />
Two and a half years later I don't smoke, And it's weird to think that because I <i>always </i>smoked. I never left the house (or returned) without a pack and a zippo; even today when I get stressed the first thing my mind thinks is 'cigarette' and my hands sometimes even dive into my bag after one; only to find a magazine, my wallet and a phone.<br />
The transition left me with worse skin, I broke out when I quit and my skin hasn't quite calmed down since. I <i>detest </i>that. People used to ask me if I spent hundreds of pounds on skincare because I had such good skin. I would say something like "Ooh, I sware by 'Clinique Scrubs'" or "Kiehl's Soothing Lotions" the truth being that all I ever needed was bog-standard Clearasil in the mornings; now my skin... it isn't <i>bad</i> but it's far from its enviable former glory.<br />
Quitting hasn't given me much to celebrate, I was moody and didn't talk to anyone. I snapped out at nice people; and when I finally got over that and went out to see friends they would talk about their neuroses and I would have to pull a face like I cared while I tried to push the subconscious chant: '<i>Smoke... smoke... smoke...</i>' out of my head. Then I would go out with old smoking buddies and they'd look at me expectantly whilst they lit up, I would stare at the floor until they remembered why I wasn't joining in; and then try to inhale as much passive smoke as I could.<br />
<br />
I guess what provoked this was last Tuesday at Cafe Nero's ; I was having a nightmare day, the pattern I had spent two days drawing out for this design was fundamentally flawed and would require <i>serious overtime</i> to repair. So I did what I always do in this situation and took a long lunch (knowing after that I wouldn't be taking lunch until it was finished) I ordered a huge Cappuccino, a giant ciabatta and my usual sad spot by the window. I pulled out my copy of 'Wuthering Heights' and sat there like nothing in the world could possibly piss me off. I suddenly remembered what I would've done five months ago; stood outside and chain-smoked, and to be honest, I missed it.<br />
I missed everything I described, the rush, the taste... the bubbly, smiley person I was when I smoked.<br />
Now I am moodily sitting in a Cafe with a burnt coffee pretending to give two shits about 'Mr Lockwood's clumsy dealings with Heathcliff and Joseph.<br />
<br />
I have not yet succumbed to the temptation that is the rack of smokes behind the cashier at Tesco Express, but it's there. Every time I go to buy a Mars bar. '<i>Smoke... smoke... smoke...</i>'Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-6459625603894336912011-02-22T18:06:00.001+00:002011-02-22T23:13:40.707+00:00[Photoshoot]<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakPWCmMGx7nHBkhdURpj1piqVihU_K1BJV05PtsR9DO4BYsMHFFkWAdCW9XLu7Kcg3TPNQCOoChuh44j8Sp6gctMPF8b2YKCdCHJIbFmw3naec61vae8TN0upOLGbwpNirnz55dPVfUM/s1600/Jacks+pics+2011+143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjakPWCmMGx7nHBkhdURpj1piqVihU_K1BJV05PtsR9DO4BYsMHFFkWAdCW9XLu7Kcg3TPNQCOoChuh44j8Sp6gctMPF8b2YKCdCHJIbFmw3naec61vae8TN0upOLGbwpNirnz55dPVfUM/s640/Jacks+pics+2011+143.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This is a post I've been meaning to do for ages now, I did this photoshoot with a friend of mine, Anjelica, she's an excellent model and photographer (despite not spending any time <i>behind </i>the camera for this shoot.) This was all about her personal style, <i>(and my jacket)</i> and I just had to share these images with you.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCyer3xyg5TS0l1oSBKg2y6KNhc4MisTpOwhqTwEv5dPjaCklVN1NAeDpbxgyAdaqFQMzDachKiRiZCQjxs2HQ_-EjWIcY39XqxWca3mmF7MJ8JiqIaP-cbGctaIlbS2uGA6HGS_vnmg/s1600/JellyShoot3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYCyer3xyg5TS0l1oSBKg2y6KNhc4MisTpOwhqTwEv5dPjaCklVN1NAeDpbxgyAdaqFQMzDachKiRiZCQjxs2HQ_-EjWIcY39XqxWca3mmF7MJ8JiqIaP-cbGctaIlbS2uGA6HGS_vnmg/s640/JellyShoot3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Leather Jacket, mine, Ponyskin Bag from Camden Market, Ponyskin Skirt, indeterminate origin.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPGMT6tmJdzuTyjw1T__PKWXLXLT2XNpiCrpvIPrK_vjyLUJLyF1drpic6j2UNvT5lmoYOmXKozIljRh4OF0p4XRJyA-48WyT9mpI6BU5OCEohdNGo_nEB4Q-35pIo1B6uQ2xrl2s_X6g/s1600/JellyShoot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPGMT6tmJdzuTyjw1T__PKWXLXLT2XNpiCrpvIPrK_vjyLUJLyF1drpic6j2UNvT5lmoYOmXKozIljRh4OF0p4XRJyA-48WyT9mpI6BU5OCEohdNGo_nEB4Q-35pIo1B6uQ2xrl2s_X6g/s640/JellyShoot.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Red Writing Case, heirloom from the 30s, Crocheted Backpack, another Camden discovery.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNfSjoiKKK08qcjHGKp0GJTlNx4u0G-NcQv_eTcJwLVntg5elo3HhhA3pH9vt-ulIDFWVKRem5VGT5ai6uT_e2MvJw7CJzjF3jS1FzSYgElKZlofUBsvv01Eu36FoSDFqHuTVnbCF90k/s1600/JellyShoot4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwNfSjoiKKK08qcjHGKp0GJTlNx4u0G-NcQv_eTcJwLVntg5elo3HhhA3pH9vt-ulIDFWVKRem5VGT5ai6uT_e2MvJw7CJzjF3jS1FzSYgElKZlofUBsvv01Eu36FoSDFqHuTVnbCF90k/s640/JellyShoot4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Jacket, again <i>mine, </i>'Sheels' (Shoe/heels, a phrase coined by a drunk girl at a party we went to) by Topshop</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckImrcxDzhscAR0_GewdiwUXJml3r0jQc_wHey0rUwsgxp7lsQSROL9s8WkP6tIFmXmIHDDiS2mdWekigiX4S0GBTaP3XglSh6dqjxcYXs5siGm69_ay_zw27m-kgWPL_St1KhbQbe0k/s1600/Jacks+pics+2011+150.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhckImrcxDzhscAR0_GewdiwUXJml3r0jQc_wHey0rUwsgxp7lsQSROL9s8WkP6tIFmXmIHDDiS2mdWekigiX4S0GBTaP3XglSh6dqjxcYXs5siGm69_ay_zw27m-kgWPL_St1KhbQbe0k/s640/Jacks+pics+2011+150.JPG" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><a name='more'></a></span><br />
"<i>...But they're all blurry, etc."</i> They're supposed to be<i>. I like blurry</i>. I like it when images are soft or less defined; in the words of <a href="http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/fashion/article6957921.ece">Grace Coddington</a> "I love when it goes soft sometimes, and even when there's movement if there's a little blur... but, I don't know everybody seems to like things <i>pin-sharp</i> these days; I think it's a shame."</span>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-46903796297202017442011-02-22T00:50:00.001+00:002011-02-22T23:12:54.688+00:00Fleetwood Chic<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimui6I0rWmg967stZ78vC-FkqXzjqC4TfKzLT1Fm3kw2qIc8t4VY6mPJBb9jJTtDL-X1dRQojTIr1tKe-ADO5A8gdXUeSr5ICs3wuxMUHmuAYhPhxIOSRMeFZKaUNoJz2AGBuxEn2as4/s1600/StevieNicks2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimui6I0rWmg967stZ78vC-FkqXzjqC4TfKzLT1Fm3kw2qIc8t4VY6mPJBb9jJTtDL-X1dRQojTIr1tKe-ADO5A8gdXUeSr5ICs3wuxMUHmuAYhPhxIOSRMeFZKaUNoJz2AGBuxEn2as4/s640/StevieNicks2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Stevie Nicks is, for me, a god. I'm not going to do a big ol' <i>The first time I heard her music I was...</i> post because that would be wet. No. I'm simply going to state her godliness, offer up some explanation as to why she is a deity and then shall be off on my way.<br />
The Nicks is, in my opinion the best <i>voice</i> in rock, she has a low coarse voice that reminds some people of Dolly Parton (remark as such and recieve a digital back-hand) to me, she sounds like a female Jack White, but edgy-country with hints of Ms Winehouse; except without the drugs. As soon as you hear it you're spellbound; which is her scene entirely. All of her work references spirituality, witchcraftiness sometimes, and softly you're drawn in. It's the lyrics as well; "I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you... you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loved you..." and then she'll repeat it "I'll <i>Follow </i>you down 'til the <b><i>Sound </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">of my </span><i>Voice</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> will haunt you... <i>You'll <b>Never</b> get away from the <b>Sound </b>of the <b>Woman that loved you</b>...</i>" And then there's the <i>whole first verse</i> of her veritable masterpiece "Planets of the Universe" that leaves you going "What?!" because it's totally ritualistic and abstract.</span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">"The Bright Light is lying down,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">The Earth and The Sea and The Sky,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Is at rest with The Ocean [oooh]</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">And the days go by...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">They go into the seas that have no shores,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">haunted by that same closed door.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Looking up! at skies on fire,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">leaving nothing left of us to discover."</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdQBgVCfCdSGB41w_CT_ex0HYo7ROiCeVLuUHxsMius6oYvxzSYKmwwwRYx6sQ6FeQxU5nm9ElIG_J6JRsA5iXmzXy2B_w8hQYYh4hd8CxB14fd6CjCwojjexbDVT4EZRofnZxAK0bHY/s1600/stevie-nicks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFdQBgVCfCdSGB41w_CT_ex0HYo7ROiCeVLuUHxsMius6oYvxzSYKmwwwRYx6sQ6FeQxU5nm9ElIG_J6JRsA5iXmzXy2B_w8hQYYh4hd8CxB14fd6CjCwojjexbDVT4EZRofnZxAK0bHY/s640/stevie-nicks.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-3334707428537058712011-02-18T22:45:00.001+00:002011-02-22T23:14:20.548+00:00At NYFW no-one can hear you scream...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyRloPDzXkgDxqGm-3iRnBBHD4kqC4_e-6gjvPIvwk83cCLX1bWK9iE2_ApImaY0dl4p7iMbD32CQuuzukm4z89spUBBmGllmdins-ykvKxOntkT4rA4UhZ_3r-eurM3ZC_e6zwO_858/s1600/alien5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIyRloPDzXkgDxqGm-3iRnBBHD4kqC4_e-6gjvPIvwk83cCLX1bWK9iE2_ApImaY0dl4p7iMbD32CQuuzukm4z89spUBBmGllmdins-ykvKxOntkT4rA4UhZ_3r-eurM3ZC_e6zwO_858/s640/alien5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMpuoEvLz3Kz1YiT4Rb12wXRJbDn-COXbBsMGy6lHiYbND965wfkiypJ5b9ELBXVkQb-iqJ-ixWJcMX35hrPxOJmtNyltpYbFpjuepoPSrg5U1i_7V9Ro8LbFv7GcNdmKiL55UjYgljI/s1600/alien.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQMpuoEvLz3Kz1YiT4Rb12wXRJbDn-COXbBsMGy6lHiYbND965wfkiypJ5b9ELBXVkQb-iqJ-ixWJcMX35hrPxOJmtNyltpYbFpjuepoPSrg5U1i_7V9Ro8LbFv7GcNdmKiL55UjYgljI/s640/alien.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div>I am OB-fudging-SESSED with Ridley Scott's 'Alien.' I believe I have devoted a <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/fucktheseshoes">fair few Tweets</a> to declaring my undying love for Sig-Weaver's 'Ripley' portrayal. She truly is my greatest style icon, whether it's her custom Reebok's from the second film or her jumpsuit from the first, to me she represents true grace in utilitarian androgyny. <i>and that's just wardrobe</i>. In my mind no-one else could portray a character like her with the same consistency as she did. Sigourney rocks my world.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjbVwkBhXc_ZZKRjb0N6-jKTY3SYDAKbEghnjfDVEU5InPlIhLT-ayLzzqWXc7LydlRcnSxqhwKHRTtG7Y5srda5Ojjgn3fSll1wk9UY7BM5DGt9jup7oEsevhDdKVRSi_d-uDl2nZG4/s1600/alien4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkjbVwkBhXc_ZZKRjb0N6-jKTY3SYDAKbEghnjfDVEU5InPlIhLT-ayLzzqWXc7LydlRcnSxqhwKHRTtG7Y5srda5Ojjgn3fSll1wk9UY7BM5DGt9jup7oEsevhDdKVRSi_d-uDl2nZG4/s640/alien4.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Of course you could draw parallels between any 'Grungy' collection and films like 'Alien' but at Jeremy Laing's Fall '11 show a few days ago I detected a MEGA 'Ripley' vibe.</div></div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjbCa4V3GkrDvsgmtLkfTa2jxvSo340hxPQg7akw3fF2l862EW9WVHdbC7NtbtiEyUmWCbsk1oXx1qjUli8UeTGOZizZmAKQvjYd0xBVTsaA0kUd1_2mdZUtHFJIo5Ba0mQxIuhvBHpM/s1600/Collages5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHjbCa4V3GkrDvsgmtLkfTa2jxvSo340hxPQg7akw3fF2l862EW9WVHdbC7NtbtiEyUmWCbsk1oXx1qjUli8UeTGOZizZmAKQvjYd0xBVTsaA0kUd1_2mdZUtHFJIo5Ba0mQxIuhvBHpM/s640/Collages5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Grunge chic's been a 'thing' since Marc Jacobs in the nineties, but Laing's latest collection translates the darkness of the mood into the glamorous silhouettes of the season full length organza instead of . It's these collections that I find are the most inspiring, because all it would take to replicate some of these looks at home would be the ability to sew organza into a long skirt and chop up the hem, I just love these looks. NYFW always comes up with a handful of designers who don't really care about 'trends' so much as whatever inspires them, when I go to London on Weds/Thurs for fashion week I <i>pray</i> I see something like this.</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYWs8BOCqy1Jdzmc4KWIgsHTSDvtvccSCEco45xeNSSs1114DpzLL2putkrhaMQrqOnJ98b84fi_1BZ_WJTJBxTO0Fav1s82SfclgNmj88T-_WCwSSn_pbklTtKdrLk7BFHwhVFljCdNM/s1600/alien3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYWs8BOCqy1Jdzmc4KWIgsHTSDvtvccSCEco45xeNSSs1114DpzLL2putkrhaMQrqOnJ98b84fi_1BZ_WJTJBxTO0Fav1s82SfclgNmj88T-_WCwSSn_pbklTtKdrLk7BFHwhVFljCdNM/s640/alien3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div></div><div><a name='more'></a></div><div><i>Final few words on the subject of the 'Alien' franchise (for now) :</i></div><div>For me, Ripley's story ends with 'Aliens' (the second film.) The following two films were made purely for the sake of squeezing the last drops of cash out of the franchise; they were disrespectful to both Ridley Scott and James Cameron's visions. If you have not yet seen any of the films from the series I recommend that you see <i>only</i> the first two films; ignore the others, they will only disappoint. Rant over.</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-86318881097474125902011-02-14T23:43:00.004+00:002011-02-15T17:39:20.264+00:00I'm, like, so 'punk'. yeah.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsB6RP9oas_71G6Y-VOZEsr5hd36hI_mClmETYfRU9oSYUSRaEWWiyB4P69kqL08E-cVdBhcep7-E-rkYCOjfVClmn6hhqsII9KQTerw6pJRVfUdvOe0Qasy4IPJ2tFfehS8jt5JGaF8o/s1600/punkypunkswooot.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="352" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsB6RP9oas_71G6Y-VOZEsr5hd36hI_mClmETYfRU9oSYUSRaEWWiyB4P69kqL08E-cVdBhcep7-E-rkYCOjfVClmn6hhqsII9KQTerw6pJRVfUdvOe0Qasy4IPJ2tFfehS8jt5JGaF8o/s640/punkypunkswooot.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Okay, I'm no punk, in fact I'm far too neurotic to look like I don't care. But I love punk culture, I love Dame Viv's (far left) 'Sex' era work; I love the Ramones and 'Bondage Trousers.' But, for me, true punkism is inaccessible. I can only attempt it, never actually succeed.<br />
'Punk' is angst, first and foremost, its followers draw inspiration from their quarrels with the world/their family/government/pop music and they wear it on the outside, and NOTHING makes <i>me</i> angst-ier than Valentine's Day; a day designed to make single pringles feel like nothings.<br />
So with all the pent up V-Day angst boiling in my blood, I had to find a suitably positive outlet for this negative energy before it boiled over into a 'Don't make me AAAANNGGRRYYY!!' killing spree <i>a la</i> the Hulk (in case you didn't get the last ref.) I chose to attack my defenseless clothes with my bare hands. You shoulda seen the looks on their faces<i>... they weren't suspecting a thing.</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OF_-_VRgq80yn8FuUZSG9aPVvFg6vQAzcrvtW_qbke53W9W9q8k91t2viUad936CGZMez8imYa77rX85EpaXEtyequjJen2wgAaZjkqISocwil1kgLip-H-GgbQMXWFxCZ1Q80WE7UE/s1600/Recovered+Autosave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="452" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1OF_-_VRgq80yn8FuUZSG9aPVvFg6vQAzcrvtW_qbke53W9W9q8k91t2viUad936CGZMez8imYa77rX85EpaXEtyequjJen2wgAaZjkqISocwil1kgLip-H-GgbQMXWFxCZ1Q80WE7UE/s640/Recovered+Autosave.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">This is what I made, sorta, see once upon a time I had this amazing skeleton necklace that was jointed like a proper skeleton and I wore it every day. You see, I have a tendency to play with any necklace I have on whenever I get nervous and anxious and revising for the finals saw me my lovely skeleton fiddled into pieces. All that was left was the skull attatched to the chain, the ribcage and all of the disassociated limbs; I scooped them up and dropped them into a box until I found them again a few days ago.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">This leather thong with a ring is also a broken necklace (do I have any unbroken jewelry? I don't think so) and I wore it around my wrist 'cuz it's so kewl. But after reading <i>The Melancholy Death of Oyster Boy</i> I knew what this wrist-lace was lacking, <i>severed limbs!</i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBoq2Vt0NQ1aqomcke9fjufkwekFqHGrSafq9NpvPvWHV8_TVeMWqYgBpVURl_1MzprUXHDR_U7eX2-zAqXQKUYtqWHAbsCov1Ihg0AWTUSMigs2-MrWddNpDnA2VakaQzRuuEwpm_j4/s1600/DSCN2930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOBoq2Vt0NQ1aqomcke9fjufkwekFqHGrSafq9NpvPvWHV8_TVeMWqYgBpVURl_1MzprUXHDR_U7eX2-zAqXQKUYtqWHAbsCov1Ihg0AWTUSMigs2-MrWddNpDnA2VakaQzRuuEwpm_j4/s320/DSCN2930.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">Yeah, the story behind this is simple, I wore the skull on the chain mainly because it was cute to have a teeny little skull around your neck, and whilst working on a piece in my college fashion course I found I couldn't be assed to walk the VOYAGE to the cupboard in the other room to replace the safety pin; so I sneakily slipped it into the necklace; and I think I love it as much as my dog-tags.</span></i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUhuJjUwRbqUCxTbdhsHocVGO8rp_r3L0Y1ooo9aeFEl4eHsxO-6Ys74dFuVTxJ3iT1-SbdeVUlFQH1NoOKEhDVJdEIn6Ke2kaMtJAM5FtukLZop2fF2BYrFgNtYn53cVcX42CdUYb_g/s1600/DSCN2927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTUhuJjUwRbqUCxTbdhsHocVGO8rp_r3L0Y1ooo9aeFEl4eHsxO-6Ys74dFuVTxJ3iT1-SbdeVUlFQH1NoOKEhDVJdEIn6Ke2kaMtJAM5FtukLZop2fF2BYrFgNtYn53cVcX42CdUYb_g/s320/DSCN2927.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">These are my dad's dog-tags from the gulf, HE'S STILL AROUND Whenever someone compliments me on these they ask '<i>Wherever did you get these?</i>' I say 'They belonged to my dad' and then they go '<i>Oh I'm so terribly sorry!</i>' at which point I have to assure them that No, my dad did not die in the gulf; he just let me had these because I loved them and he thought it would be cool for me to have a decent pair of Dog-tags with some real background.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOsfrFbXj0Nbk_D88rgs7wf_NPtU563IBzM_Pqxc2Pi3Xdtz56OcNN_OQtP60C-fHEwnTzJukopK-WyMLqDsbUZ_LOObYU7_JM3lhifFU9L_FQ_-BWJOf8_VTLMU5UX2uDSrx-Y9t_LDw/s1600/DSCN2931.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOsfrFbXj0Nbk_D88rgs7wf_NPtU563IBzM_Pqxc2Pi3Xdtz56OcNN_OQtP60C-fHEwnTzJukopK-WyMLqDsbUZ_LOObYU7_JM3lhifFU9L_FQ_-BWJOf8_VTLMU5UX2uDSrx-Y9t_LDw/s320/DSCN2931.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>ehhh, aren't Dog-Tags like, soooo 1997?</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Shut your noise, I'm bringing them back.</div>Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3235966218831176710.post-18158779766964982192011-02-13T23:56:00.002+00:002011-02-14T12:47:22.198+00:00The Talented Mr Wu - 'Boy-Clothes'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0hAN_agTRbrVHH88vZjnR-FZKZyBR0lBy0ijXo1ziMZh2aTxgURlpfJyVNhZqIaV68_YJxI3xL9DqtYbQXsWXKgwc55ZKpGU1TZ8GdPi1N3epfca-Y4nuKBBvPvrOYjWk3cpST9K0KM/s1600/Recently+Updated34.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN0hAN_agTRbrVHH88vZjnR-FZKZyBR0lBy0ijXo1ziMZh2aTxgURlpfJyVNhZqIaV68_YJxI3xL9DqtYbQXsWXKgwc55ZKpGU1TZ8GdPi1N3epfca-Y4nuKBBvPvrOYjWk3cpST9K0KM/s640/Recently+Updated34.jpg" width="453" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Jason Wu - F/W 2011</div><br />
Have I told you about how much I like, no, <i>love</i> androgyny? In Fashion, few things are as difficult as to be truly androgynous. I actually managed to force my best friend into my shirt and one of my biker jackets for a photoshoot the other day, but other than that 'I'm not going to wear boy-clothes.' What is it about androgyny that scares women away? is it the fear of looking like a lesbian? perhaps, men shy away from wearing skinny jeans for fear of 'lookin' like a fruit' but shouldn't it be different for girls?<br />
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Last year I ended up at this University bash in London, it was boring and I was too nervous to talk to anyone from St Martins; anyway, as I was going in there was this girl was outside smoking like Uma in Pulp Fiction, contentedly secluded from everything around her. She had this perfect, long, brownish, wavy, 'Freja' hair, curly with bangs [fringe] that were perfectly curled and landed just above her eyes. She hadn't even a touch of makeup on her face but she had flawless pale skin and long eyelashes. That was what I noticed of her first. When I took a second glance she was wearing a mustard-seed wool, double breasted, men's summer coat over a blue dress shirt, buttoned to the top. She had these camel trousers on that could've been saville row, they were a perfect 'peg' sitting exactly on her hip, like a pair of jeans. They stopped precisely above her ankle with a superfine Turn up. No socks, just brown brogues with none of the 'punched leather' embellishment.Her arms poked out of her coat, sitting on her shoulders, sleeves rolled up like a railway-worker from the wild west and she'd folded her arms with her cigarette pointed away.<br />
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Never before had I seen a woman pull that off. But every time I look at my girl-friends I think '<i>Why won't they try it? why won't they even consider that?</i>'<br />
Because they never saw her.Jack Flash!http://www.blogger.com/profile/17782415954830701351noreply@blogger.com2