daisy, disco, & champagne
Fashion, Rants & Raves, Style

the Law

Every time I look at a photo of a past outfit I find currently deplorable I blame my fearlessness on Coco, and the realization that, “Coco made me do it,” was born. Fashion dogma that places blame firmly on the legend for giving me permission to break all the style rules one sequin at a time.

Coco’s word may be law, but we all know laws do not exist unless you are caught breaking one. I apply the same logic here. Similar to a pirate’s code or the idea of honor among thieves, think of these more like guidelines than law.

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Fashion, Flea Markets, Style, Vintage

Berkeley Thrift Haul

Polyester is a gambling man’s fabric and I bet the house at Mars Thrift.  I’ve stopped blaming myself, trying to hide my shame and started indulging the guilty pleasure.

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I cannot say no to gold, cheetah print, or to harem pants as of late. How you feel after that statement is probably greatly due to the fact that Metallics have been marketed to the gills in every silhouette around, in most cases in questionable fabric qualities. 

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I am so sorry, I am not sorry for living for gold lamé; especially if it faintly resembles lamé that could have been shimmying around the days before Studio 54 closed its doors, it’s mine. Bonus points for  Studio 54 opulence.

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To satisfy my nostalgia since Clarissa Explains it All has been off the air, I buy all the baby doll cropped tees I see. Bonus points for black lace.
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As for any affinity to animal motifs that I developed over the years I blame my mother, as we all do when someone calls us out on their idea of a fashion faux pas. Or most importantly garment decisions they personally would never bare leave the house in. For example, harem pants are barely telling the world you can survive without your couch in sight. But Harem pants explain themselves personally, and if they do not speak to you in a convincing enough manner do yourself a favor save the money for a maxi skirt instead.

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Harem pants heaven. 
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Epic Fail, Fashion, Rants & Raves, Style, Uncategorized

Fashion Fail-Mismatched Socks Make Me Want to Cry

When it comes to fucking up an outfit every hangover has given permission to disastrous walks of shame that we all would gladly forget along with the pile of tequila and tacos at the foot of your bed after a night out. This is not that outfit. This is carefully coordinated choices to mis-match. This is purposeful (hipster) fuckery of which I can only pseudo-support the mental trajectory of because let’s be real; only a ballsy bitch who gives no fucks is willing to look like a complete clown with every once of conviction she has.

really??

I agree life is too short to match socks. The dryer has left more deserted old maids than match.com in its reign of terror. I would be liar if i didnt confess that my socks never match. The difference her is I have dignity. I hide my lazy attempts at participating in life when necessary.

Being in Berkeley, on Telegraph could be an explanation enough, honestly. However, I have noticed this emerging “trend” on the sidewalks of various cities and I always let the location justify the dismal decisions these people clearly made in dark.

There is nothing new under the fashion sun. But this desperate attempt to introduce something new is scraping the bottom of the fashion fad barrel so thoroughly “trendsetters” have passed right through and begun digging creativity’s grave.

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Mismatched socks are going to be the newest plaque after leggings as pants.

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MJ is Laughing at you!
Epic Fail, Fashion, quotes, Rants & Raves, Style

Marc Jacobs is Laughing at You- a Designers Love/Hate Relationship with Fashion

“I don’t want to blind them, I just want them to blink a little.” -The Emperor’s New Clothes

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There is a phenomenon that happens in the creative process whereby something new is created under the guise of ingenuity. Where in reality, the designer has gone bat shit crazy, gives no fucks, and would happily set each garment on fire as it sashayed down the runway faster than a junkie headed to the Methadone clinic. If the creative process of a collection becomes a great love affair, then the runway presentation is the resolution of an ugly divorce. An art thats evolves from a source that is deep in the soul, breaks the heart once its obsessive conception is complete.

I am certain Marc Jacobs wants us to believe, that he truly believes that Dynasty Pumps, glorified granny panties, and gloves an outfit make.

MJ is Laughing at you!

MJ is Laughing at you!

Not convinced, Marc, take it back. Your aesthetic is ever evolving while still telling a consistant story of confidant women accessorized to perfection with striking minimalism in the details.

MARC JACOBS

As I damn his obvious decision to just scrap the top that was intended for Lily McMenamy, I would have given my left arm to witness the, ‘Marc-wants-her-topless-on-the-runway’ conversation. Two days before show time if Marc wants a bitch topless, bitch will be topless.

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Fashion, Style, Uncategorized

Buying Skins-”People are more violently opposed to fur than leather because it’s safer to harass rich women than motorcycle gangs.”

“Boots are skin, steaks are muscles,” was the simplest way to answer one of the questions that plagues fashion people.

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On the same level with: “Can I wear leggings as pants?”

“I can just get the same thing at Forever 21, right?”

“Will this sweater be okay in the dryer?”

“What exactly is leather, if it was cooked could I eat it…?”

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Mr. Fauck’s reproachful nature dissolved once he gained confidence that I in fact wanted leather not suede and yes could explain the diference. (Suede is flesh that has been rubbed to a velvety nap while Leather is flesh that is tanned and processed to maintain a smooth hand)

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Test passed with flying colors. In a thick German accent, he pulled skin after skin, and graciously explained each animal and its origins before moving on to the next. Lambskin from Spain, Sheepskin from Argentina, Pigskin from Brazil.photo 1

 

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