The Dog Days of Summer.

Haven't seen one of these in a while. Pictures have been short. And so have my hemlines. It's so God-blessed hot I haven't worn pants in, say, three months. To write that I haven't spent three quarters of this summer wearing that little black dress would be me being a bad liar - which ain't a surprise, admit it. My creativity levels are a bust, all spent on a few new novels. All going well, for those who care.

And those who don't, whatever.

You're reading it anyway.

So, I thought I'd get caught up here before school starts and I weep continually.

This is a recount of five to twelve days of the same two outfits in rotation with different headbands, shoes, and facial expressions.

Yay.

Free People Double-Wrap leather studded belt=studly perfection.

Collapsable silk magician's top hat: Paris 1897.

Battered Frye boots: gypsy bells, silk scarves, queer bliss.


Hey, there on the floor. Check out that rad/red Tom and Jerry suitcase.
The shit?
Yesh.
It is.
I know, right?


Hoooooooooottttttttt.

My hair's turning a weird color, all on its own.

"Hair Intervention."

It's irritated, and thinks it should be dyed.

I say, very firmly, "No."

So it does the next best thing.

Gets carried away.

Turns blondish.

Mocks me.

Bastard.

This is how I've been feeling.

If you could hear me, I made a sort of an "Eerrrgghhhaaahhhmmm," sound.

Not attractive, but what the hay.

Once the ball's rolling and all.

Silk 1930's bed jacket, sewn and resewn and re-resewn a good hundred and fifty times in the past three weeks.

Every time I move: rrrrriiiipppppppp.

Anyways, it still looks fantabulous.

Don't know how long it'll last.

It's thinner than the pages in Gutenberg's Bible.

Funnnnyyy.

Points of Interest.

Marry me Eugene?

Yes?

You like roses?

My middle name is Rose.

Bahaha.

If not you, then Alan Cumming?

Haha. The products of ten minutes of Googling.

Speaking of that, I saw an article in Wired called:

"Is Google a Monopoly?"

I hate to regress to junior high but -

Duhhh.

Where did all these geniuses come from, 'eh?

A Very Merry Birthday, Pussywillow, My Dear.

A Very Merry Birthday Me!!

Which is a nice change from "A very merry UN-birthday me."

Mahahaha.

Old Bag Status - Acquired.

It's been a week since I was born - nineteen years ago.

*gasp*

If you'd asked me what I'd be doing at nineteen when I was five, I would have told you that I'd be the terror of the high seas after attending Oxford.

Have my goals changed at all?

Photos top and bottom, courtesy of weheartit.com

My birthday was nothing like this.

But the point is - it could be.

And lo and behold (like that Bob Dylan and the Band song) I finally got my crinoline.

Peach foam bitchezz.

I'm gonna wear it pretty much every day.

I look like a pastel Amazonian cake-topping.

Yaayyyy.

*twirls and sharpens Amazonian cleaver simultaneously*

Ignore my sense of humor.

Even I'm embarrassed.

Patent leather belt: lovely vintage leathuhhh.

Leaving you with images of whimsy.

Cake.

And delight.

Happy Birthday 2009.

Memorial of my Youth.

R.I.P.

Out of the Casket and into the Flower Garden.

Why do I love these?

They look like little corpses.

Or Christina Ricci in Sleepy Hollow.

I feel like I'm five again.

My birthday's in a couple of weeks and my mother asked me what I wanted.

I said: "Well, there's this doll, see?"

And she laughed at me.

What on earth is so funny?

It's a disease.

Ok?

If they weren't so expensive I'm sure I would have enough to name one after every one of my favorite fictional characters.

"And this is Jane Marple..."

"And this is Kate Wetherall..."

"And this is Alice..."

"Dorothy..."

"Lucy..."

"Violet..."

This one looks like my sister.

Ha!



Feel free to judge me.
(^.^)
But I think they're possibly the cutest things I have ever seen.
They are definitely imperative to my next tea-party.

...

Note: Pictures courtesy of Weheartit.com
Thanks!

Madcap Military...Cap?

I don't much feel like writing today.

If you miss that "piffle" that I normally generate, I apologize.

I'm sure we'll have it again.

But it's five in the morning and I have yet to go to bed.

It's probably best if I don't speak at all.

Haha.

"Whhhyyy, hello there m'dears."

Glittery Belt: Recently chewed by the dog $3

Saadd-ffaaccceee.

My bed/boat-of-rampant-dreams-of-all-shapes-and-sizes-that-I-almost-never-sleep-in.

Like lying in a flower-patch.

Only..not.

I love this outfit. Sure, it looks like nightgowns.

But then.

It is nightgowns.

And anyway.

That's part of the charm.

*sigh*

I said: "Hey Daddy, do I look alright?"

And he cleared his throat awkwardly and replied: "You look like a little girl."

Awww...shucks.

I ate my wheaties this morning.

Look at that bend.

Yeah.

Yeah.
No. Of course I'm not falling over.

I'm 'contorting'.

God.

Dress#1: $12

Dress#2: $12

Military Cap: Vintage 50 cents

I'm trying to fold myself into the camera.
Haha.
You'll never see the crown of my head or my toes.
I'm just TOO TALL.
Oh!
I hit my head on an emergency exit sign the other day.
Just puttin' that out there.
God.
It hurt like Hell.

Lord, and to leave off: me looking vile.

(o_O)

"That's a good way to make friends Cait - that look. You're like a Grizzly bear."

"Puurrrrr."

And on that note:

Ta!

Lavendar Dreams.

Happy belated Easter!

Yay!

...

I still have a candy-high!

Yay!

...

Hahah.

This is a quick, stout, fat little post full of pictures. Nice change in scenery.

I wore this outfit for Easter.

And took some great pictures out in natural sunlight, oh Godly mythological blessing, but unfortunately I took the pictures on my buddy's camera, and she has yet to send them to me.

So I made do with some more on-the-kitchen-floor-at-three A.M. pictures.

...

Yay?

"Wot, wot?"

I also wore this to the library book sale today.

And found some 1st edition Doctor Doolittle books from the '20s.

Some Dickens.

Some Faulkner.

The Darjeeling Limited (my favorite movie!).

A book on Vaudeville and mimes.

And one on Goya and Valezquez.

A Buzzcocks CD.

And a Cher record.

*blushes*

Cher and I share a birthday.

Ahahah.

"Bad puns," my mother says, "are not necessarily jokes."

Gahhh.

I laughed.

Supposedly that orb by my knee-cap is a ghost.

But Lord.

He's awful small.

That makes me a little sad.

May-Day tambourine of my dreams: Estate Sale


Broody facial expression: Adolescence

Gypsy Romance.

Circa 1965.

G-G-Groovy.

Film Noir black and white portrait.

Just thrown in there to mix things up a little.

Yeah.

Outift: product of a year's worth of holidays

Dress: Easter Bunny ("Hi Mom!")

Sweater: Early Birthday Present

Socks: Christmas

Brazilian Wooden Platforms: Free Shop $20

Scarf: Vintage '20s

If that buddy ever gets back to me - "Ahem, Kirsten" - then more pictures, perhaps taken in the rare outside world, will follow.

And it helps to take that message with another shot of Cadbury "Yay!"

XOXO

Caity

So Unlike Me.

So I took some pictures a few days ago in the spirit of Spring. I love the outfit, but I'm not sure I love the pictures. Could my poses be anymore theatrical? Anyway, it has sort of a Jazz Age feel to it that's very genuine, and very old-timey - sort of carnival/theater/Adam and Eve. Hahaha, I look good with that granny smith.

...

Looking at all these wonderful little bloggers like Ana of Silver Wings and Ella of Rebel Angel lately, I was inspired to try something more whimsical, and will continue to be inspired until I feel like I have stepped out of a BBC reproduction of a Jane Austen novel. Aghh, not quite there, with my little round sixties sunnies and my frye boots, but Lord, it's the thought that counts 'eh? And anyway, I feel like I could be.

(^.^)

Dress: Urban Outfitters

Frye Boots: Sale Basket Somewhere

Belt: Marshalls

Sweater: Marshalls

Sunglasses: Vintage Market



Attitude: Vintage


On the note of personal advancement, shopping, and whathaveyou, nothing much breathes. I fell truly, madly, and certainly deeply in love with a pink ruffly Juicy Couture bathing suit and a grey James Pearse tank-top, and somehow managed to make eyes sweet enough to make my mother want to buy them for me. My cash flow rushed, bubbled, trickled, and then whispered to a halt. What..is the economy making people interested in their children again? Have we no need for babysitters now? Somebody could have told me!!
*shakes fist at sky with no expectations*
Buggar.
And you know what? You know what???
I miss those kids. Those hordes of demon-spawn. We had so much fun together. I feel...empty. Incomplete. Saaaddd-ffaaaccceeee.
School just isn't filling the gaps that our Deans of education would have you believe it could. Really. Actually, it isn't filling any gaps. It's just making my head ache.
...
Ahem.
Not that I'm complaining.
Certainly not.
That would be.
So Unlike Me.
(^.^)

Ta-ta.
And until next time.
Sneeze easy.
Pollen-season is among us.

With Ungodly Precision

I have avoided doing anything even remotely legitimate for the past three weeks. The time spent is just a blur now, of Andrew Bird on repeat, banana milkshakes, loading and unloading boxes in my pal's new house, pretending to be wicked interesting in front of actually interesting people, working on my novels, and, like the unspeakably cool cattt that I am, waiting for Twilight to come out. I started cleaning my closet too, and survived to tell the tale, which in and of itself is rather singular - as in has never happened before.

And to put a little color in your cheeks - mid-terms are this week, I have to get a job ---a real job--- i.e. something besides babysitting, and my creativity, like all things delicate and beautiful, is wilting in the fierce and suffocating darkness of the doors closing on my options.

...

I know, right??

Bastards.

Whatever.

*sigh*

So...

I know I said my next post would be titled something like "Workings of an Evil Genius," or whatever, but that didn't work out.

My working aren't quite evil enough.

And I know I'm wearing one of those wildly unpopular keffiyah-Palestinian head-scarves around my neck.

But you'll have to deal.

I've had a rough week.

And it's pink, God-damn it.

So...

Looking on the bright side, I went thrifting and found a Scottish Easter Egg Mohair coat, a Mary Poppins hat, and a mosquito net to hang above my bed.

Pictures will follow.

And for now, take a look at my week - seven days of thirty different variations of the same outfit.

Yay.

Going to the aquarium.

Sunglasses: Marc Jacobs: $20

Scarf: Vintage: Free

Vest: Penguin: Free

Dress: Obesity and Speed: $9

Leather Jacket: Michael Kors: Christmas

Richer than Bill Gates.
And better looking.
Muaha.

Chocolate crack cake for my Father's Birthday: $10 worth of supplies.

Laughter and sugar coma it created after we ate it?

Priceless.

God's violet Docs.

Shlumppp.




***
Scarf: Vintage: Free
Dress #1: Free People: $12
Dress #2: Free People: $20
God's Purple Docs: $25
Knee Socks: $4
Leggings: $5




Until next time.
Which, hopefully, will come.
Ta.

~Caity~