Thursday, March 26, 2009

safety first, fashion second



more about the wilderness

1.water that is condensed from the aqueous vapor in the atmosphere and falls to earth in drops more than 1/50 in. (0.5 mm) in diameter. Compare drizzle (def. 6).
2.a rainfall, rainstorm, or shower: We had a light rain this afternoon.
3.rains, the rainy season; seasonal rainfall, as in India. marked by steady or frequent rainfall: We had rain most of last summer.
5.a heavy and continuous descent or inflicting of anything: a rain of blows; a rain of vituperation.
6.that which cleanses my soul.

Friday, March 20, 2009

The Empire Strikes Back

Why we should all read V Magazine, or at least worship it. 

I actually can't stand her, and if it wasn't for her YSL print ads then we'd all be better off with her getting fat somewhere with no one to throw Crackberries at. THAT BEING SAID, I'm shedding light onto "The Empire Strikes Back," a FUCKING FABULOUS photo spread shot by Mario Sorrenti (and styled by Jane How) for the 54th edition of V Magazine, August '08. A little late yes, but upon finding these images online I believe it is necessary for them to be shared. This 26 page spread stands as one of my all-time favorites, and I would suggest to anyone without that particular issue to back order it immediately. Mario Sorrenti is a God; the innovation and composition behind his photographs is absolutely magnificent. I love these images, and although it makes me throw up just a bit in my mouth to say it, Naomi is stunning in every one. Enjoy, as I have.

The following is a selection of images from the 26 page spread:

Truly an inspiration, in my eyes.



It may look different, but I assure you, it's all the same

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned:

Children of The Corn


The hills step off into whiteness.
People or stars
Regard me sadly, I disappoint them.

The train leaves a line of breath.
O slow
Horse the colour of rust,

Hooves, dolorous bells----
All morning the
Morning has been blackening,

A flower left out.
My bones hold a stillness, the far
Fields melt my heart.

They threaten
To let me through to a heaven
Starless and fatherless, a dark water. 

We Are Stranglers

A sunday afternoon escape, as follows: 
Golden brown texture like sun
Lays me down with my mind she runs
Throughout the night
No need to fight
Never a frown with golden brown
Every time just like the last
On her ship tied to the mast
To distant lands
Takes both my hands
Never a frown with golden brown
Golden brown finer temptress
Through the ages she's heading west
From far away
Stays for a day
Never a frown with golden brown

Saturday, March 14, 2009

justifications for an overdrawn bank account

Dear Alexander McQueen,
You are my hero. Any day you like, you can make me your bitch. So long as I get to carry the egg basket behind you... I worship you. 
P.S. Nicolas Ghesquière, you are beautiful. Your clothes are beautiful

Friday, March 13, 2009

Yves Saint Laurent Fall 2009 rtw

I DIE for Yves Saint Laurent. At night, I run through the streets naked dreaming that I am covered in YSL. I would wear it morning, afternoon, evening and night. I would sleep in YSL, brush my teeth in YSL, take a shower in YSL. I would have Stefano Pilati's babies and smother them with YSL the moment they leave my YSL womb and breathe the YSL air I provide for them. 

McQ for Target

Am I always the last to know? I'm broke and just went on a little (but rather nicely sized) shopping spree, but I'll still be going to take a look around...

Happiness is...

I was going to write a pointless blog about the amazingly delicious soft serve ice cream I had earlier tonight, but while I was searching the internet for the proper photo that didn't exist, I found this. Enough said. MeEncanta.

Monday, March 9, 2009

this town is called Stolichnaya...

3.7.09/3.8.09 sunday morning
...and this is our fabulous photo booth. we love to view ourselves. 

'strangeways' occur after a fabulous night out with friends; the Guinness glasses empty, the jager bombs exploded, the dances stepped away. and after hookin' it a bit on our favorite street corners, we convene under the stars and in our holes to sip away our daily nightmares and wear all the freshest fashions of our exaggerated limp wrist'd best friends. and eat cake. this is the good life. there is much laughter here, and plenty of nudity + screaming mothers. all in a good night's work. 

the bitch bell