You Learn to Get Around

Silverlake / Highland Park, 2010

You're Mad as Hell and I Don't Have to Take It Anymore

I'm a bit obsessed with saving things I find on the street. This is exactly the kind of specimen that piques my interest:

front / hook / elusiveness

back / sinker / madness

I picked things up all the time in LA, but the (how shall I put this charitably?) more literary nature of Berkeley crazies has pushed my collecting into overdrive. So much so, I've begun to write for ArtSlant about these lost articles. The first of a monthly column on found art, this article attempts to describe the impulse behind my saving these neglected scraps. Subsequent articles will spotlight items in some other context.

You must think I'm crazy.

A Joke is a Very Serious Thing

I just got back from a wonderful day in SF, doing touristy things and buying weird socks (more on that later this week). This post goes out to the ladies who freaked out over my skirt while I was at the ATM machine. My friend Rob was there and kept saying "You like that? She has a fashion blog, you know. Tell them about your blog! Don't you have a card or something?" I don't have a card. Moving on!

blouse from What Goes Around Comes Around sample sale

janky varsity jacket on I got on clearance from UO

What's the big deal, you ask? It's just a little black skirt. Well...um...

boom!

blam!

I spotted it while selling clothes at the Buffalo Exchange in Berkeley, and what can I say? The heart is a strange and unknowable melting pot of desires  - I had to have it. The skirt itself fits really well and I would probably have got it even without the sweet vinyl appliqués. It's more just funny than sexy, and I believe a sense of humor is sort of vital when dressing yourself. It helps to take life's knocks.

Case in point: my debit card was stolen somewhere around the Fisherman's Wharf and someone stole mucho dinero from me. I immediately called my bank and sorted it out as far as I could, and after that there was really nothing else I could to, so I didn't let it put too much of a damper on my mood. I was having such a good day. I mean...I'm wearing a Mike Tyson pin.

To be fair, this also helped:

Off to cuddle down with my bad self and read. Have a wonderful Easter Sunday. I'll be missing my family for sure.

Some Things I Like

Mini hand-shaped vase from Christie, casting of my ex-boyfriend's teeth, flash cards my mom sent me.

Arrow magnets from Office Depot, "Elite Trap" from the Shadowshop at SFMOMA, drawing of my fist.

ArtSpeak dictionary, teeny tiny clothespins I've saved for years. I don't know where I'll ever find them again.

It's So Good To See You

Lake Merritt / Downtown Oakland, 2011

Survival

Excited to bust out this 1960's Ranchcraft denim jacket I found in LA. It's soft and worn to the point that it drapes like heavy jersey rather than stiff denim - companies like Current / Eliot are completely based around emulating this kind of wear, which is great! But expensive! And you don't have to stand for it! Unlike certain items, flimsy old denim jackets are still prreeeeetty easy to find.

I like that it's slightly oversized and not too precious. Good for running around in. ESPECIALLY WHEN YOUR PHONE DIES AND YOU FORGOT YOUR KEYS AND YOU'RE FORCED TO SIT ON THE STOOP FOR HOURS, READING MONT SAINT MICHEL AND CHARTRES AND PRAYING THAT YOUR LANDLORD WILL STOP BY.

I'm okay now. We must remember that even in the small margin of freedom left by thousands of years of looming social and semiotic structures, bearing down on us with inscrutable authority, in that teeny-tiny margin of freedom that is awareness and reflection, Henry Adams would like us to know that there lies our creative and inquisitive nature, the exercise of which is true liberation.

And hey, because I like you...

Missed Connections

Echo Park, 2009

Hello, Dolly

I agree, people do strange things when they're on vacation - they buy leather jackets for much more than they're worth - they do NOT fall in love with fascist dictators. -Greg Kinnear in You've Got Mail

I thought I could slip this in no big deal, like when you want to wear a hat but you don't want anyone to point it out. So I thew it on over a little black dress to meet my best friend for drinks. "Oh my" she said when I opened the door "you look very...iconic. Where did you get that?"

I was wandering around Melrose Avenue, dehydrated, existentially unstable, and in need of a sandwich. I spotted this in the window of a vintage store, tried it on, put it on hold, texted a picture of it to my BF, left the store, went 5 blocks, turned around, walked back and bought it. Weeks later I'm proud to say I don't regret it one bit. It's become something of a wardrobe staple. 

It gives me instant "outfit" status on days I just want to wear jeans and a t-shirt, and toughens up works a flowy little vintage dress with a little more oomph than a regular motorcycle jacket. It even helps my posture.

 

...and has improved my vocal range.

Squeezing into the Photobooth frame like that seriously can't be good for my back. I'm off to the de Young museum this weekend for the Balanciaga exhibit. Hopefully I can take pictures!

Buh-Ro.

Downtown LA / Downtown Oakland, 2011

Shooby Shooby

I do that really terrible thing every fashion magazine tells you not to do where I hang onto and even buy clothes that are too small with the intention of "fitting into them later." This is especially a problem when it comes to vintage clothes or something on clearance, where you can't just pick the next size up. This is especially a problem for me, because these are the two main sources of my wardrobe.

My terrible hoarding paid off this weekend when I was finally able to wear this pink tweed swing dress I got years ago from Anthropologie.

It was heavily marked down because the zipper was broken, so I blandly threw it on all half-open and decided that it fit. When I got the zipper replaced and tried it on properly for the first time, it required both pliers and a roommate to get it zipped, and even then I could barely breathe. I try it on every few months to see how it feels, and, as a result of my daily walking commute, or maybe just the fact that I've stretched it out from trying it on so much, it fits. It. Finally. Fits. Comfortably.

I beat you, you stupid dress!

I wore it do a dance party at the Starline Ballroom in Oakland Friday night, where it withstood hours of sweaty dancing, and a few gin-and-tonic spills. It really needs to be taken to the cleaners now, which I never do...another bad habit, I'm told.