Magic

I woke up dismal, and decided that today would be as good a day as any to search for magic. I used to see it everywhere, but lately... not so much. It's an experiment to test a theory that I have, that the magic is still there, I'm just not looking for it, so it isn't visible to me. Like fairies, and wise crows that want to tell you something. The way the wind rustles the leaves in a pattern to remind you of what you've forgotten. The way your dreams seem to come in these overwhelming waves of insight, every five years or so. I mean, I can't think of any reason why today isn't a good day to do that.

October 22nd

is my birthday. Yesterday was a day like any other day, really. In the past I have followed certain rituals on my day, like taking a walk in the woods, buying myself a present, saying "yes" to myself all day, these sorts of things.

Well, there aren't any woods around here, so I walked to work. And the sky was so strange. California is on fire right now, it's really awful. A lot of people are suffering. The sun was rising through a black horizon, through the smoke into a clear blue sky. And it smells like a bon-fire. I took some pictures, but my phone doesn't do it justice. I also found some cool sticks and seed pods on the walk, I'm collecting things for a holiday centerpiece.

I decided to use my lunch break to look at these Marni pumps I've been coveting. Got distracted at shu uemura, they've really got some amazing lashes up in that piece! When I finally made it to Marni, I had a realization. Just because something is expensive does NOT mean that it is well made. This is the second time I have fallen in love with a shoe, even considered saving up for it, only to discover upon closer inspection that the article does not warrant the price. I really do understand that you pay for quality. I think that good artists should be compensated for their mastery. But it is insulting to mark something up just because you can. If I am going to buy something that is badly made, I can get it at a hoochy mama store! BLECH! p.s. the other item was at YSL. No joke.

On my way home, I bought myself a 7.00$ dress that was made in the U.S. and looks amazing on me.

I got home and had a glass of wine in my luxurious Simon Pearce cavendish glass, and decided on shoes to match my new dress. Then, my Knight in shining armour arrived on his white steed and whisked me off to the fancy sushi joint I've been wanting to try FOREVER. It was really fun, they had tasting flights of sake! I got the Geisha flight, and he got the Samurai, we couldn't help laughing as we ordered! We tried lots of new things and it was lovely.

The funny thing is, I don't feel any older...

Eat Peas Weekly

My sister Penelope has a wonderful blog called Eat Peas. You must check it out, it's a weekly posting on nourishment, and she recruits different authors each week. This week, our Brother(in-law),Kevin, wrote a beautiful essay that you need to check out. Then read all the back posts!

making a dress for a party is difficult...

I know, I've tried it so many times, and more often than not unsuccessfully. I've lost count how many hours I've put into this thing and it's HIDEOUS! I'm giving it one more full night of work and then,if it still looks like a pillowcase, I'll have to wear my new year's eve dress.

The problem is that I really have no idea what I'm doing. I just try things and see if it works. My standards aren't that high, it's for my party so I can wear whatever I want.

I need a dress form, bad. Now THAT would revolutionize my life.

That Dress...

I forgot to tell you about the event I went to two weeks ago.

The place that I work is holding a month-long celebration of all things Italian. The restaurants are having special wine and food pairings and tastings, there are boutique locations with museums of costumes and shoes from classic films made by Italian design houses, there is a showing of art in the medium of fabric by Italian Art students, and there are special events every week.

Last Thursday, at 4:30, my boss looked at me and said,"you're going to the event with me tonight." I replied, with passion, "I can't go like this! I need to go home and change!" So off I went. What a glorious feeling to finally have an appropriate occasion for the Pucci blouse! I came back to fetch Stan, adequately coiffed and as Italian as anyone who isn't can be.

Free Booze! Free food! And Fashion Fashion Fashion!!! The Italians were out in full force that night. I received my stamp of approval from a Gal who works in the main office whose workplace style I admire greatly: "Love the Pucci," she said as an aside to me whilst trying to corral the VIPs into the front row seats and evict the squatters, grace maintained, I might add...

Stan & I sipped martinis and waited for the show to begin. And then I got to see in real life and moving some of the most beautiful clothes I've ever seen. My favorite piece was a Roberto Cavalli dress that I'd seen photos of in a magazine earlier that week. It was exquisite. The fabric rippled and floated like thick cream and smoke with the movement of the model down the runway. It was a turquoisey green and blue almost opalescent sheer silk, with a beaded bodice in the shape of a bird. I think that I took a huge leap in understanding the magic of couture. A picture may say a thousand words, but in real life on a body speaks billions.

I saw Gucci, Valentino, and a host of other fabulous designers. It was truly a wonderful evening. After the show, I sipped prosecco and indulged in the bite-sized desserts- Heavenly! I met some very nice ladies and we chatted for a while until I had to go, with promises to remember each other and hopefully see each other soon.

This coming Tuesday, I'm attending another event. This one is focused on new and up-and-coming Italian designers...

Beauty, Je T'aime!

My sister Penelope got me a wicked cool present on her last visit to Paris. Shu Uemera feather eyelashes. I've yet to rock them, the moment hadn't arrived until now. My birthday party, next weekend. I couldn't sleep from 5-7 this morning thinking about the outfit I'll have to build around them.

Ideally, a pair of fuchsia satin covered platform stilettos with a huge floppy bow that drags in the dirt and gets tattered and dusty, combined with a dress I've been trying to make for eons out of an over sized grey sateen oxford shirt. We'll have to see. One of my very favorite things to fantasise about is potential outfits. And let me tell you, these lashes are a force to be reckoned with. You can't just throw them on as an afterthought. You must create a mood about them. I'm definitely wearing my seashell tiara, I tried them together and it would be a sin to separate them.

My biggest challenge will be creating the dress, and resisting the urge to buy a new pair of shoes.... I totally skimmed guiseppe zanotti this afternoon. I'm going to hell. p.s. Is anyone else infatuated with prada's multi-colored block pumps this season? I'm going to hell three ways.

Beauty: je d'eteste

During my walk to work today, I contemplated the idea of detesting one's culture. Or, I tried to say it over and over to myself in French, because j'adore to say "je deteste". It just feels so good, you can really spit it out. My train of thought wallowed in the deeps for a while, and then, as part of my never-ending endeavor to see the good ("for you will surely find it"), I pulled myself up by asking myself what I like.

"Beauty is nice," I thought.

But what is beauty? This is what it means to me:

Beauty is Art. Beauty is considerate and thoughtful. Beauty is deliberate elevation, but also spontanious perspective. Only you can create your own beauty. Someone or something cannot make you beautiful, it has to come naturally from within and without.

I constantly question my fetish-like obsession with fashion, particularly the pieces that are priced "luxury". I see people adorning themselves with luxury clothes and shoes and makeup and having thier bodies surgically altered. All in the name of beauty. Believe me, I know the powerful feeling that comes from sporting luxury items. But it isn't beautiful when you are going out of your way to try and cover up who you really are. That's ugly to me. And sad. It is heartwrenching to hear and horrifying to observe what people willingly do to themselves in order to look like a robotic doll. Am I the only one who thinks it is strange?

I guess it all goes back to "je deteste". I imagine a place where people are calm and peaceful, and they love themselves the way that they are, and are more interested in the beauty of what just is than what a car or bag or injection will do to make them more beautiful. MORE MORE MORE. I think Americans are so trashy, I think of a big pile of garbage as we throw away our past, our future and even our present in the never-ending consumerism and purging. Like the Roman vomitoriums we buy and buy and buy and then we have to get rid of it to make room for more new stuff. Blech. No one wants thier great-grandmother's hand me downs, they want new stuff. New cars new handbags new shoes new clothes new new new and where does all the old stuff go? "Not in my back yard, thank you very much." I'm not saying that I live a life free of these sins, I'm just saying je deteste

October in California

It's October, and I'm in California. For the past ten years, October has been a saturated month. Birthdays, parties, plays, shows, and all other whatnot's somehow start the chaos twister that usually ends with a thump on January second. And there is the season of autumn. The smell and the chill, mostly. The cider, the apples, the sweaters and scarves. Thank the good lord that my friends have blogs to remind me, because there is none of that here. I know it's fall, because the ants are hungry and it's colder at night. I put my duvet back on my bed. I bring a sweater if I'll be out at night. I don't know the signs to look for in the desert. Different flowers? Different birds or butterflies? (Note to self, must ask native.)

I've started walking to work. It only takes half an hour, and it's only my second day, but already I can feel a tension leaving me that had built up from driving everywhere. It makes me feel kind of helpless to rely on a car. Especially Jeeves. If there ever was a reliable vehicle, Jeeves must be it. We're almost at 200,000 miles and going strong in spite of many, many, problemos. And I just can't swing the mulah to fix it all. So walking....

The air is sweeter at the moment, symptom of Fall? And the walk makes great east coast phone call time.

My computer is still broken. I've been watching way too much t.v. Addicted to TCM at the mo... last night the original "Diabolique"... Fantastique!!! And this morning "White Heat". Dear god I love Gangster movies. "Spider Baby" the other night. I thought that would make a great costume: Tease and snarl your hair, put on hot 60's make-up, a silky vintage slip. Get a fishing net and two fake knives that slip into themselves. When someone asks you who you are you say "I'm Spider Baby and you look like a big, juicy bug and I'm going to give you a sting! sting! sting!" then you throw your net over them and stab them like the knives are your spider fangs. Great idea, right?

Ta-ta for now....