This isn't the vest that I got at the Brooklyn Flea yesterday, but it's another one that Jones hates. I got it in Korea, and it reminds me of a flokati rug. It's the sort of item of clothing that boys (and some girls) hate because they just don't understand why anyone would wear it.
Furry vest from Korea, tsesay cotton pink and grey striped dress, secondhand thermal top, H&M quilted flower necklace, hui-hui pajama bottoms, Nine West canvas heels.
Background
I'm not a very careful person. I usually throw my sunglasses into my bag and then fling a book on top of them, or I let my phone run out of batteries for days on end. Yet I rarely lose any of my possessions. On Saturday, it finally happened: I lost my cardholder that contained my building ID, my unlimited Metrocard (bought only a week ago, of course), and several store credit cards that I haven't used in years and only opened so I could get the discount (this is bad for your credit score, I've heard). I canceled the cards, called the MTA to get credited for the card, and got a replacement ID. It was a hassle, but after exercising all the damage control I could, I'm still left with the distressing loss of the cardholder itself. It was so convenient to store everything in there, and it went everywhere with me. I feel its absence, even if its end was long overdue (it was falling apart and things were starting to fall out anyway).
It was a souvenir from a co-worker who had gone to Korea, and she got it from millimeter/milligram (mmmg). I actually got to visit a mmmg store when I was in Korea, the one right by the palace. It's this nondescript cinderblock-like grey building, but once inside, it's crammed full of cute fonts and colored patterns.
I can't go back to Korea just to get that cardholder, but cutxpaste used to carry them, and now they don't anymore. The mmmg website has some (along with lots of other nice things), but I don't see any in the print I used to have. Besides, shipping internationally may be impossible, or at the very least a huge drag, so maybe I'll just check out some stores in Flushing the next time I'm there.
Before it started to rain this afternoon, dreamecho and I (she was in town) went to the Brooklyn Flea. I wanted to wait a few weeks after it opened to check it out, so that it could work out any beginning kinks and establish vendors. Isn't it funny how when you go to a flea or antique market, what you want to see are folding tables manned by a friendly old couple? So when the people at the booths are jaded young people who look like they hung out at Union Pool last night, you're a little disappointed?
Still, that shouldn't undermine what's at the Flea. Vintage clothing dominated most of the booths, so if you're a girl, then you're in luck. Otherwise, there's also a small table that sells a dozen used (but in very good condition) Nikes. Jones got a pair of Dunks he's been looking for for years (all black with gum sole), in his size, and for $35. There's also a very cute stand that sells deadstock earrings from the 60s/70s.
I wish there were more "junk stalls" that sold things like chipped vases and prosthetic legs, because they're always fun to look at; kind of like a museum, except you can touch everything. It would also be nice to have more vintage accessories, since flea markets usually tend to be Bakelite City.
Those pastries look pretty good, huh? I almost got a brioche (I think they had them?), but then I saw a Red Hook ballfield vendor setting up, and I assumed they'd have pupusas, so I decided to hold out. But they didn't have any! They only had grilled corn, fruit, and juice. What the hay. That's okay, because when I'm shopping, my appetite shuts down anyway.
At the first booth I stopped at, I got this pair of vintage shoes. They're cute, like a dark olive-mustard color. I also got a vest that I'll probably wear sometime later this week. Jones thinks it's totally fug, and was embarrassed that I got it. Just wait, I'm going to make it look awesome, and then you'll be eating your words, JONES.
In this weekend's Sunday Book Review, the New York Times covers what sounds like a terrible book: Bringing Home the Birkin. Based on the title, I thought it might be an account of the Birkin's rise to exclusivity and its status as the ultimate luxury handbag. But no. It's actually a memoir of a man who learns to sell designer goods on eBay for a comfortable profit, who then eventually becomes the online go-to purveyor for Hermès goods. It sounds like the type of book that would really only appeal to the same kinds of people who would be making use of his services in real life, that is, fashion-y types who could appreciate that he is dressed in "Jil Sander charcoal trousers and a dark lime green cashmere turtleneck, with a pair of tabac matte crocodile Bottega Veneta brogues" (this is a direct quote from the book that appeared in the review).
What interests me isn't this sort of checklist of how the affluent dress themselves or the lives they lead, but the business aspect of it. Christine Muhlke, the reviewer, doesn't dwell too long on it, but she hints at how the author sources his goods from all over the world, frequently traveling to pick up scarves and accessories. I find it incredible that these trips are funded by eBay auctions, and I can't help but wonder how lucrative eBay can be. I'm also surprised by the revelation that very wealthy people use eBay. I guess I shouldn't be, but I always thought they'd think they were too good for the Internet.
Another curious fact is that the review was published a day after this article on "voluntary simplicity." Muhlke criticizes Bringing Home the Birkin for not taking it one step further to go beyond the trivialities of fashion: "If he’d tucked into what really makes people define themselves by their obsession to Hermès, 'Bringing Home the Birkin' could have brought home some very important truths about our times." These "truths" may be informed by this quote from the voluntary simplicity article. “The idea in the movement was ‘everything you own owns you ... [y]ou have to care for it, store it. It becomes an appendage, I think. If it enhances your life and helps you do the things you want to do, great. If you are burdened by these things and they become the center of what you have to do to live, is that really positive?”
At the end of the day, the Birkin is just a handbag, right?
There are a ton of sample sales going on, but I haven't been to one since the Twinkle sale last week (where I only bought 3 brooches for $5 each). I'm making up for one big purchase I made last weekend: a vintage Gucci purse.
I never thought I'd end up with one, or even want one. Unfortunately, being Asian, there are some things that I can't wear or carry without feeling extremely self-conscious: Disney and Sanrio, obviously, but also Louis Vuitton monogram anything, and Gucci monogram anything, most especially fanny pack/belt packs and messenger bags. But I don't know, there's something about the Gucci monogram bags from the 80s that I really really like. It's definitely that wide striped band that got me. I also like how it looks like something I could carry around with anything, and it's old lady-ish and old-fashioned but also a little geeky and "smart" (as in, snappy)? I preferred the green and red at first, but as I started to track them on eBay, I realized that I also liked the navy and red. At one point, I was watching dozens of Gucci monogram bags at once, mostly to track all the different styles there were, but also to get an idea of what prices they fetched, so I knew what a good amount to bid was (they seem to go for anywhere between $200-$300, but rarely more than $400). There are a lot of different forms that this monogram takes! I actually like 90% of them, I'm totally smitten with them, fobalicious and label whore, I know.
This large bag caught my eye, but I stupidly forgot to bid and the auction closed. A week later, it was magically relisted (does this happen because people don't pay? or is it Fashion Fate working in my favor again?), so I vowed to make it mine this time around. I was a nervous wreck as the seconds were ticking --I even got a stomachache-- but I was the winner! It's at home now, so I don't know what it's even like in person (my mom said it smells like cigarettes), but I can't wait to start carrying it around.
Oh and if anyone else is interested, a similar bag is being auctioned here.
Ah, yes. This is what I wanted to DIY when I clumsily described it in a previous post. But I think it will cost me much less than $542. Seriously, all I need are some beads and a needle and thread, and a sturdy canvas of sorts (double-layered felt?), and I should be ready to jazz up virtually anything in my wardrobe.
They're here. But I don't want any of them. No lilac? Or sheer white? And the blue and pink are too bright for what I want them to be. Oh well, at least these don't have a back seam (that's another product).
My friend Olivia told me a few weeks ago about the impending apocalypse. A Mayan prophecy, Stephen Hawking theories, as well as an Einstein quote all serve as damning evidence of inevitable doom. Apparently, Einstein believed that four years after the bees start to die, the world will collapse because they are so crucial to pollination and life. Well, the bees started dying in 2007, so live it up because we don't have much time until we're done. Go out and buy all these accessories featured in this past weekend's Sunday Magazine.
Even if these photographs do remind me of the end of the world, they're still beautiful to look at. The Marni hat at left is wonderful, like something that could be out of a live-action Winnie-the-Pooh movie. Accessory spreads are always highly styled with deliberate incongruity: I've seen so many with shoes in construction sites, jewels peeping out of candy wrappers, and sunglasses sandwiched between raw steaks. But the monochromes and viscosity of honey, along with the slight terror of bee clusters, work so well with these accessories.
Is it just me, or is it really hard to match bright red?
Scarf from Mexico, Urban Outfitters corduroy red jumper, secondhand quilted jacket, Tracy Reese peach sequined sweater, maroon tights, H&M shoes that are finally comfortable enough for me to walk around in.
Background
So... speaking of accessories, I've had wristwatches on the mind for the past few days. I had to buy a graduation gift on behalf of my mom for my brother's girlfriend (also a Pratt grad). A Toy Watch seemed like a pretty good idea, and it was, because she loved it. I wanted one so bad a few years ago, when it seemed like everyone had one. I still like them, but if I had to get a watch today --which I'm not, and won't be for a while-- I've changed my mind and would really like a small, ladylike watch with a square face and a thin leather band. Something demure and dainty, and basically the opposite of a huge-faced clunky Toy Watch.
I did a quick pre-1940s antique watch search on eBay, and while I couldn't find any that matched my (what I thought were rather simple) criteria, I did find pages of watches with old-fashioned details. It's funny how something as simple as numbers one through twelve give away that the watches are from another era.
[By the way, searching for antique jewelry on eBay is something that I can totally get sucked into. It's going to take every inch of my will power (thanks Frog and Toad!) to resist.]
Then there are watch-accessories: wristwatches that look like bracelets, and some that are brooches. The notion that a timepiece can double as jewelry is typically exploited today as a gimmick; watches are usually marketed as pure functional pieces, with the more the better. But I prefer the implication that comes with a beautiful watch: that checking the time can be a graceful and leisurely act ("It's time for my late-afternoon constitutional"), and not an anxious tic ("I'm going to be late, where is the subway").
These pictures by lightweaver on flickr make me so happy, because I love color, organization, and a single shot that has tons to look at, like a Hieronymus Bosch painting. Or, a Where's Waldo page.
The first one is titled "What's in Your Jewelry Box?" which I decided to take as a real question, and do something similar as a reply. Except I don't really have a jewelry box. I don't even have a dressing table because my room is so tiny (I'm seriously considering getting a twin instead of a queen in my next apartment; there's only room for one queen, yuk yuk). But these are some of my most colorful accessories. Some of them look like they came from a little girl's ballerina music box, while others could easily be found in a granny's dresser. If anyone else wants to share pictures of their accessories, leave a link in the comments and I'd love to take a peek.
I pick up accessories from H&Ms/Forever 21, thrift stores, antique markets, and my personal favorite, craft stores for me to make myself. In fact, there's a Peter Jensen necklace that I saw yesterday at Opening Ceremony that's made of lots of seed, wooden, and pony beads sewn on a collar. I can't find any pictures of it online, but it's created a pretty vivid image in my mind, so I think I can try to create a reproduction once I can assemble the materials.
To celebrate the Liberty print Dunks being sold (exclusively, in the States) at Opening Ceremony, the store went balls to the wall in floral decor. The window and a cart in front were overflowing with arrangements, so that the smell of slightly decaying flowers pervaded the store. I wonder if that was intentional --I could see them wanting brown-edged petals and that musty+sweet scent. The cart also had Liberty of London fabric draped over the sides, with the two styles of Dunks nestled in between the peonies and potted plants. On the wall immediately to the left of the entrance, embroidery hoops with prints inside were tacked up.
Although all this was to promote the Dunks, it also made a pretty good case for the Chloë Sevigny collection, which I saw for the first time (the prices repelled me). But I actually like the clothes! The floral bustier, in particular, is Stepford Wife slut in its blooming cuppiness.
Back to the shoes: they are certainly nice, especially the gum sole. I just worry about keeping them clean, because once they get dirty, it'd be hard to see the little flowers. If you're obsessive about keeping your Nikes clean, though, it shouldn't be that bad. Just don't wear them on days like today (rain AGAIN).
I would have posted on this sooner, but I didn't take very many pictures at the 90s party, and had to get them from Eugene (thanks!). Unfortunately, I can't use any of the shots that he took with me in them, because I look terrible in them. At least I got this picture of RJ and his girlfriend playing a Pop Up Video game (?).
Jones decided to (mis)interpret the theme as 1890s. It was a big hit, much better than my costume, which was a lace-trimmed nightie over a striped shirt, a bobby pin in my hair (I took it out later), crocheted tights, 90s loafers, and a lunchbox. And the dark lipstick, which was so weird, it made me realize why lip liners were so important back then: there's no room for error.
The boys did a super job in bringing the 90s back. They played with pogs, ordered stuffed crust pizza, got customizable snap bracelets, "Full House" and "Family Matters" paperbacks (and a hardcover of Maniac Magee, but that's always been in their library), and a couple of Magic Eye posters.
The music was... 90s. Jones commented that people seem to think that just because it's a theme party, you're supposed to play bad music. So there was some of that (Eiffel 66), but also Spacehog and Better than Ezra.
I don't have a coffee table in my tiny apartment, but if I did, and if it were suitably huge, I'd want to get TASCHEN's The Complete Costume History to plunk on top of it. I always go to the TASCHEN biannual sales hoping to find a discounted copy for $100 (it retails for $200) but I never see it there. I did get Albertus Seba's Cabinet of Natural Curiosities, which is of similar heft, and my arms and back were aching even before I got to the subway.
Before I found Pratt's treasure trove of fashion magazines, I spent half an hour in a carrel next to a window with their copy of The Complete Costume History. The security guards kept threatening to throw us out (but they didn't, because that would have been cruel as there were so many grandmothers taking shelter inside), so I didn't have time to read any of the accompanying text, and was only able to look at the pictures. But I could easily spend hours poring over these pages.
I mean, I'm nothing when it comes to mixing prints and patterns when you compare me with those two Dutch costumes up top. And the threesome below I could easily see on Face Hunter or something. It's pretty remarkable how if you want to look for modern-day comparisons, you'll find them (big bows in the hair, post-Roman gladiator sandals).
There's much to appreciate in past fashions, too, without relying on Rococo ballgowns (although I do like looking at the trimmings overload). There's LOTS of interesting headgear, the curious trend of fake moles, and fops and dandies galore (look at mens' stockings and shoes!). The book presents costumes from each country/geographic area --although France seems to be the most represented, predictably-- and also includes jewelry and military uniforms and armor. The vibrancy of the illustrations make them look less like "It's a Small World" and more like, well, art.
Coffee table or not, I think I might get this book anyway. I won't lie; I'd feel a little bit like a collecting whore, as accumulating TASCHEN books is a lot like building a Criterion Collection library, but as long as it's not mindlessly acquisitive, I think it's okay.
I just got back from my brother's OUTDOOR graduation. It's been raining non-stop since early morning, and it's a little brisk too, so all the attendees gradually made their way over to the warm and dry library. I peeked into their periodicals section to see if I could find anything to read. I would have been okay with Economist back issues or something else not very fun, but holy ass, it was like Ali Baba's fashion cave in there. My brother went to Pratt (for architecture), and since it's an art and design school, I should have figured that there would be interesting reads, but I was not prepared to see that their library subscribes to FRUiTS, i-D, Jalouse, Purple Fashion, Giant Robot, Found Magazine, and on and on and on. I mean, the most exciting magazine that my college library carried was Elle.
I looked on all the shelves to find a magazine I'd never heard of, and then I came to a Japanese publication called Commons and Sense. I've never seen it anywhere, not even at Kinokuniya. Honestly, I don't think the styling is really for me; what makes Commons and Sense an engrossing read (okay, so there wasn't any actual reading) is the clothes they use. It's not the same old predictable pieces from the same old designers over and over again. There was Marc Jacobs, but there was also Ann-Sofie Back.
In addition, I've never seen so few text or advertisements in a fashion magazine. There were maybe four pages of ads in the front, and then editorial after editorial, and an accessories section at the end. And it's a thick book! Oh, and no Beauty section, which is awesome for me because I never look at that stuff anyway so it's all filler to me.
Then I saw these pictures, and they're the ones that made me get out the camera. A few days after a very disappointing Costume Institute gala, I spotted tons of superhero outfits here that celebrities and their stylists could have easily plucked out of these pages. That headpiece in the last picture alone should have made it. Incidentally, I think most of these were for the theme "Shanghai Express." Oh well. You say Marlene Dietrich, I say superhero.
I also spotted these two images from the men's editorial. ROFL. Are tear tattoos the next big thing?
On a final note, I found a second unexpected treat after commencement. I walked by the refreshment table, just to look, I swear, when I saw mounds and mounds of macarons (among other snacks). I can't believe it. Those kids are so lucky. Only cookies and warm juice was served at mine, and here there were costly and delicious pastries that were actually really good! No salted caramel flavor, though, hmm. We left and went to get in the car to go to lunch, but my mom made us drive back to pick up two more plates full. "They're going to waste! Just throw them in your bag!" I think I ate half a dozen, and I'm still really full.
Why is it that only Forever 21 has this level of chaos and mayhem in its stores? These are pictures I took at one store location, but it doesn't even matter which one it is, because for some reason, ALL of them look like this. I never see H&M or Zara in this condition. It might have something to do with the store's robust inventory, but the visible mess begets a laissez-faire attitude of treating the clothes like shit because everyone else does. Tragedy of the Commons, I suppose, except one vital twist is that it's not really a common space: the store has employees who are supposed to clean up this kind of mess. It could be that they've adopted a similar mindset about the disorganization, and have accepted the inexorable law of entropy.
I mean, how else to do you explain oddities like a single filthy sock on the floor, nowhere near the vicinity of the dressing rooms. Actually, I didn't even venture near them, because the racks were jam-packed with hangers poking out every which way. This is why, if I want to buy items from Forever 21, I try to get them online.
What's really bizarre, though, is that I see a LOT of women pawing through this warzone, as if they might unearth some hidden gem. It's not a sample sale! It's Forever 21! Furthermore, whatever overlooked item that you might uncover most likely has foundation streaks, unraveling hems, and missing sequins or rhinestones. Definitely not worth it.
But, I was able to find the star necklace! Mission accomplished.
Look what was in the freezer of the 59th Street Food Emporium!
How long has this been going on for? I know they've had it in Japan for a while, but now Kaiko can't lord it over me anymore, because I have a pint sitting in my fridge RIGHT NOW.
No one is around to tell me not to eat ice cream for breakfast.
Jones thinks green tea anything (except for the actual drink) is lame. "Just because you like the taste of green tea doesnt mean it needs to go into EVERYTHING." You're wrong, Jones. Have you ever had a green tea cream puff? Or green tea chocolates? Both those things are major yum. I think he's just remembering how on the days our dining hall would get green tea ice cream, everyone would be buzzing about it, and coming back with huge bowls, and Jones hates overhype more than anything.
He also asked if it was the "Limited Edition" on the carton that made me buy it. ... So what?
I was hoping I wouldn't have to post on this, but Jennifer managed to find me (somehow), so I'll share the experience. If you live in a major city, having your photograph featured on a street style page isn't all that uncommon these days, but it was my first time because I'm rarely in those hot spots (SoHo/Meatpacking District).
I was stopped a couple of Fridays ago on Prince. I thought she was going to ask me if I have a blog, but instead she asked if she could take my picture for a website. It was for Wunderbloc, and I have to be honest, I've never heard of it? I'm not very much into street style websites, so maybe it is popular and I just don't know it. It's New York City-specific, and in addition to the street style section, they cover shopping and retail, and it looks like they even have a small eCommerce section. But they have lots of nice outfits featured, ones that quite put mine to shame. I was just out for a quick stop to Uniqlo!
I almost said no, because I was already running late, but then I decided I could spare a minute, because I thought that's how long it was going to take. But no, it took a good eight or nine minutes. And here is where I dispel street style blog myths/confirm what most already know: there is a lot of direction going into it. I had to walk down into Crosby while the photographer scouted out a location, and once I positioned myself in front of it, I was told how to hold my head and hands. And she took a bunch of shots, and I was so uncomfortable because I hate having my picture taken in public, while other people can see. It has a lot to do with how loath we are to appear as tourists.
I thought it was over, but then I had to fill out forms on where I like to shop, where I got my clothes, and also sign a release form. I didn't know that there would be legal documents involved, but Jones thinks it's because they sell things on their website, so they have to get me to sign it because they are potentially making money off my image?
That's it. I just wish I were wearing something a bit more exciting, and that it didn't make me late in meeting my friend. I hate being late.
I'm a little hesitant to even list this as a DIY "project," because it's so easy, and certainly not anything original.
When I went to Philadelphia back in December, I stopped by the garment district, where I found this white fringe trim. It stood out because the "fringe" was actually flat ribbons, so when you unfurl it from the cardboard holder, the whole thing looks a bit like feathers minus the fuzz. It was, I think, only $2-3 a yard, so I got lengths and lengths of it, intending to fringe up a white dress. Then the trim just kind of wasted away for a while, and along came the peach fringed H&M dress. It seems extraneous to have more than one fringed dress, so I didn't really know what to do with my yards of fringe now.
A quick solution, to make myself feel less guilty about wasting trim, was to make a necklace. Just cut and sew together, ensuring multiple loops of fringe, and there you have it. It's important to keep in mind that when you cut trim, you need to reinforce the cut ends, otherwise the whole thing will unravel. So just sew a few stitches on both sides, and you should be fine. I think the uniqueness of the fringe makes this otherwise simple necklace something really special, and I like wearing it with white floaty things. Even the particles on my dusty mirror add to the sent-from-heaven effect (I hope). I'm now thinking about using a traditional fringe in gold, to give the illusion of, well, a gold necklace.
Feather Background
Now I need to think of something to do with the rest, as 19/20 of it still remains. I will probably use some to trim the neckline and hem of a white v-neck t-shirt, but as for the rest, um... maybe a fringed vest?
I told Bitna that my outfit sucked today, but it turns out I just had the wrong shoes (I was wearing sneakers earlier). I changed into the Pierre Hardy for Gap wooden sandals I got today, and it was a complete transformation. I like these shoes! I didn't think I would, but I do. the wooden platform makes me walk a little funny, with a loping walk, but otherwise, I like how the straps are evenly spaced (Jones doesn't like this) and the simplicity of the design. I was admittedly disappointed when I first saw the Pierre Hardy-Gap collaboration, but it's taken me about two months for me to come around, and now I'm sold.
Thrift store flower coat (it has the cut of a lab coat), Isaac Mizrahi pink gingham shirt (found at thrift store), H&M modified wooden necklace, H&M metallic skirt, Pierre Hardy for Gap wedges.
Background: Wallpaper
