Tag: style

watch list // july 22nd, living doll

If you’ve followed my Instagram/Vine [which is worth continued participation in if just for melting over Lil Bub's newfound sprint] over the past, oh, two weeks, you’d notice a particularly devout recent obsession with dolls- of the porcelain, ventriloquist, and Barbie varieties, inclusive of all hourglass shapes and, much to my preteen dismay, bobble-headed Bratz, of all shades, natch. In particular, you may have noticed a series of short films involving supremely amateur stop motion...

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feeling dotty

Perhaps spending the last week curled up on the couch seemingly coughing my lungs out, re: cold/asthma, left me feeling a bit dazed and, dare I say it, dotty, most especially considering the sun shining heavily on my feverish forehead, but was there ever a time that it was apt for me to mention feeling as such, and to exhibit it via that classic symptom of childhood pediatric care, i.e. via dots, than whilst viewing the above...

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from the archives // steven meisel, “floating”

Reflecting on an afternoon spent wading through the untouched Monday waters of a rooftop pool on what was my [belated] first “swim” day of the summer [translation: I was aggressively hiding under the shade of an umbrella/dipping toes in H20 while stuffing my face with burrata], and while I came away with a negligible level of UV exposure, I realized that it’s not the opportunity to blind fellow pool-goers with my translucent bikini body that...

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crushing the streets

Last week I eagerly acquired two Comme des Garcons pieces from the Spring/Summer ’13 collection: a slightly cropped, crushed vest, to wear backless, like the runway’s Rapunzels (obviously), and a pair of boxed pleated shorts. Both cut of paste-colored muslin, they were the honorary objects of my typically obsessive desire for months until I found the shorts on markdown at Barneys and made a lowball offer on the vest from a desperate eBay seller in...

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misogyny versus the avant-garde

Return with me to a recent casual Sunday afternoon when my friend (name notably withheld) bluntly suggested that I “dress sexier.” As I sat next to him in consternation, I wore an asymmetrical Junya Watanabe dress with peekaboo lace chest insets, or what he referred to as one of my many “grandma dress[es],” but one which I had considered pretty, if slightly scandalous, as it is nearly nipple-bearing, but just weird enough to tickle my...

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