it's my blasphemy......

Going to Aussie. Today. Yay! Though this jacket is theoretically perfect to wear when flying to another country, the destination is Australia and therefore, warmer than here in the N.Z.

(Hopefully, this assumption is not my downfall...well, it's not my assumption. It is a generalised declaration from Big R that I leave my other beloved behind.)

So the connection between the idea of flight and aviation and actually wearing this furry, aviator jacket while flying.....is basically flawed. In my case.

Sadly, I will be changing before we go later this afternoon. Boooooo!

I'm actually surprised I haven't blogged this jacket yet?! BLASPHEMY! I've worn it so much over the past couple of months, that it takes a place on The Rack instead of being relegated to The Cave. Quite an honour. Okay, okay, so most of the time it's flung on The Floor next to The Rack...or dumped on top of The Rack....or squashed next to Big R's grotty workboots in the boot of the car...ewwwww.

wearing: thrifted aviator jacket, sass khaki ballerina dress via Jet, hooded scarf and knee high sheers via the warehouse, doc's via Pat Menzies.

But, they say you are most horrible to the ones you love. Obviously, jacket, I therefore love you....but must leave you. See you when I get back MWAH!

And if I hear you've been flaunting yourself around town with someone else while I'm gone, consider our relationship OVER!....okay, okay...not over...but we'll have to rebuild the trust. Not that you will betray me. But if you do....oh, maybe I'll just sneak you in the suitcase....

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inspiration has grown cold, even as the longing renews....

I've said it before and I'll say it again...I LOVE THESE LEATHER SHORTS!

My best thrift to date and though there are MANY other options out there that are beyond covetable....alexander wang....I like how these are high waisted, have a cutesy side tie detail and are loose but short.....without being stripper short.

I've tried a few of the littler fitted options in either genuine leather or some plasticy composite but I either look like a promo girl (no offence intended, I'm just not promo girl material) or like my legs had become two pre-cooked bangers (sausages/snarlers/knock wurst/whatever) wearing a pair of tiny leather shorts. Not ideal. So these feel good for me.

And yes, being thrifted means these babies are old. Pre-loved and broken in.

And yes, that means these are ACTUAL biker shorts that some old biker hag has worn while riding on the back of a Harley....or to a Gang HQ's Christmas do....or both.

Fingers crossed it was a female......


wearing: thrifted crochet top and leather shorts, over knee socks x the warehouse, chemist headband, unseen-tux tee x kmart, 'dilemma' wedges x chaos&harmony via me-tail therapy which do not cause my pidgeon toed ness, that's just me.

Though I have professed my love for my shorty worty's, this doesn't stop me from hunting down a back-up option .....I feel like I'm cheating on them, so I only hunt at night....online...while they sleep. I really would like another pair.
I guess they're a wardrobe staple and since being worn to death, feel they have become a little lacking in the Inspiration Department. I do love them, I do, I do, I do. I'm looking for some with a different, more 'X' x-factor.

The longing for the Wang leather shorts renews itself every day.

But, as if.....my budgetary restrictions confine me to just that....longing.

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you've stolen lives and broken dreams....

Average day requires average dressing.....and not-so-average shoes so as I do not feel so, well, average.

The infamous "Zoe" harness boot by Sam Edelman has been on my radar since the Balenciaga originals (of 2006?) shod the foot of an Olsen. Am I an Olsen Addict? Why...yes, yes I am! Did I Google myself into a frenzy trying to discover all there was to know about these wondrous contraptions attached to this teeny tiny bedraggled yet totally stylish blonde's feet? Of course!

Balenciaga was...and still is...waaaaaayyyyyy out of my price stratosphere.

balenciaga harness boot

Then.....cue that Space Odyssey music......duh, duh......The Zoe.

sam edelman 'zoe' harness boot

Bloggers everywhere, blogging and buying and taunting me......bastards! So, suffice to say, I dreamed of owning a pair.

New Zealand...(use a stern teacher's voice)....you may be clean, green and pristine but you have a lot to answer for when it comes to online shopping. Hell, even in our own backyard it's severely tough to keep up. Clogs? What are clogs? I believe TopShop at The Department Store was the first retail store in New Zealand to stock a platform-style clog. (Not gardening clogs. Those are everywhere....ewwww.)

Shame on you New Zealand. We have Internet. We see. We want. Now. We can't. We wait. And wait. And wait. And give up waiting and pay through the nose to get stuff shipped in. Not happy.

this is me not happy or perhaps with an itch to scratch?

I digress.........

It may be a shoe the rest of the world is OVER but for this Kiwi, it's gone from like, to love, to want, to covet...and eventually, to obsess.

And now I have a pair. After many sleepless nights, a few beloved garments sold and scrimping on things superfluous like food...THEY. ARE. MINE.

And I will wear them at EVERY opportunity. Including the vacuuming. Which I've already done.

I feel like I have my life back after it was stolen away by the obsessing, lusting, craving and googling surrounding the procurement of my Zoes. Yay!

Now, I can dream.

wearing: zipper trim cardi by garage via the warehouse, fallout dress by karen walker via the department store, random belt, zoe harness boots by sam edelman via solestruck.

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desperate, i return to you...broken, i return to you...

Flares. Do you love them? Or do you hate them?

I have been desperately waiting for their return to the forefront of the fashion conscience. So, yes, I am a LOVEEEERRRRR!!! Relaxed, comfy, flattering, potential death-trap with that wide hem....ahh, that heady mix of fashion and danger.

I bought these a LONG time ago when my place of work was trying to revive that seventies vibe. Like a good little employee, I pushed the look when EVERYONE else was rocking the skinny. I felt like a dick and rather daggy when I mainly sold them to the 'Cougar' or 'Hip Mum' customer. Oh the shame of being eye-balled by The Fashion Elite and Tweens.

HA! Now, not so dicky...I hope?????

doing a little jig....balance...balance....

One thing about extreme flares....shoe choice. These c-a-n-n-o-t be dragged about with flats. Though wearing with keds or chucks is theoretically a sartorial winner, the logistics are a little more challenging. If you want that wrecked hem look? Flats by all means. If you are hoping to keep them a bit more pristine, then it's the on-trend clog or platform wedge. Hemming them up is choosing a path of uncertainty. Too much? Too little? Oh CRAP! Just get BIG shoes.

For now, I'm all for keeping these puppies pristine and intact.....though, once this flared thing disappears into the so-hot-right-now (*puke* I can't believe I just said that!) abyss, maybe then I'll seek keds and destroy? I don't know, I've had them for so long they are almost one of my wardrobe classics. My own vintage! I perhaps should preserve them as they are, as I always return to them.

wearing: just jeans extreme fit flare, kmart grey crop sweat and tux tee, prima sling clogs x topshop, dollarstore headband, crochet bag via trade me, necklace x equip.

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it's even louder in the silence and it's always the same...

I've spent a lot of time alone lately. A) My friends are all working some wierd-ass shifts, B) Big R goes spear-fishing A LOT and C) It's too freakin' cold and I can hardly be arsed getting out the front door without my hot water bottle in tow. Oh yes, it accompanies me in the car, to the letterbox, watching the telly....ahhh, just like a little old lady, I am.

So, if I DO manage to get my s#%t together, quit complaining about the temperature, dress without looking like a homeless Santa-and NOT in a fashionable-derelicte way but like an ACTUAL HOMELESS SANTA, draped in EVERY item owned, then I consider it a WIN and bother to snap-snappitty-snap the outcome. The upside of being left to my own devices so often?

*I can look like an ABSOLUTE munter-borderline-psycho at the supermarket and not have it reflect on anyone but myself.

*I can buy all the naughty, naughty foods at said supermarket without comment from said 'anyone'..ahem, Big R

*And here's the BEST part....not HAVE to SHARE said naughty, naughty foods with anyone....ahem, Big R. (For someone who whinges a lot about me eating junk food, he ensures he gets his fair share of the booty every time....ewwww, not THAT booty, as in pirates!

Downside?

*I can look like an absolute munter-borderline-psycho more often than not. This is dangerous territory.

*I can buy all the naughty, naughty foods. Bad for bank balances and bum bums.

*I have nobody to coffee 'n' cackle, shop 'n' gossip or kiss 'n' cuddle.....boooo.

Besides, having complete control over the TV is totally overrated. Half the fun is arguing about it and the other half is performing your victory dance when you win.

P.S cold morning=numb+trembling fingers=hardtodoupbuttonsonshirt....grrrrr.

I'm a little happy my hair is growing. Little by little. A little less Oscar the Grouch. A little mullet-ty. Still not long enough to keep the chill of the back of my neck-brrrrrrr and grrrrrrr.

I just want life to go back to normal. You never realise how nice 'normal life' is until it goes a little abnormal. Sometimes it's nice when it's always the same.

wearing: thrifted ruffle blouse and faux leopard coat, hooded scarf x the warehouse, cable knit shorts x stolen girfriends club via amelies boutique, rope belt x karen walker, crochet bag x trade me, 'zoe' harness boots x sam edelman via solestruck.

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let sleeping dogs lie.....

I've noticed a lot of stuff floating about in the inter webby world bowl of good schtuff, about men-not-liking-the-current-fashion-trends-and-women-wearing-them-and-they-don't-know-why...or something to that effect. "Women dressing for other women! I don't get it! I don't like it! I don't find it attractive!" What a concept! Really? D'ya come up with that one all on your lonesome? Of course we don't dress for you (you male person you) and only you.
Not unless we want to.

Then you're lucky.

If we happen to don an outfit that pleases both our hard-to-please-selves and your little man-self....consider it a happy accident and yourself lucky. Go buy a lottery ticket. Go on.


Besides, so what? Isn't it kind of the same how males creatively explain job titles, money earned, real estate owned, gadgets recently acquired, golf handicaps, sporting prowess.......

We generally nod and smile politely and act interested like Cosmo or a well-meaning older female relative told us to. Sorry, we don't really give much of shit.

So don't preach to me about fashion trends not catering to stirring your interest, spurring you into action and asking us out, marrying us or tantalising that thing in your trousers.
Love me, love my outfit-no matter what.

There are plenty of days in the year-365 or so since I last checked-where I can have embellishment and product free hair for you to run your fingers through whilst wearing a basic fitted white tee, a good pair of jeans and 'nice' shoes. 365. 365 chances for men to get what they want. We dress for men when we want or need to. Not 24/7. Get over it! I'm wearing my shapeless sack dress with knee socks and chunky wedges. It's not FOR you,.....it's for me...and her.
Besides, I don't need to attract a man..I got one. A decent one too, who yes, does sometimes rue the day he met me when I venture out in public wearing something he just doesn't understand but quite frankly, he doesn't give a shit. I'm happy, he's happy. I dress for him when I feel like it or when it's appropriate.

Male: Why would I dress like a dirty wizard or homeless Santa?
Female: Why would you buy a 3 litre gas guzzling carbon creating glorified metal penis?

Male: Why are you wearing something my 4 year old niece would wear!
Female: Why did you buy a 52 inch 3D T.V?

Male: I can't see your figure in that outfit!
Female: I didn't want you to! And I can see YOUR figure in that appalling outfit kind sir, here borrow mine.

Let's just write it off as one of those proverbial differences between men and women. Consider it one of those undefinable mysterial qualities of us ladies that you fellas will never understand nor, as your wise Old Man told you, TRY to understand. Let sleeping dogs lie.


wearing: vintage nautical blazer and sheer blouse, DIY denim cutoffs, sheer knee highs and jeffrey campbell x nasty girl 'foxy' platforms, equip sunnies.

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the finest parts of me, are only shades of you....

So, how's life? Mine's good...do-able, live-able. Chilly. Have spent many days and nights mind-thrashing about very unimportant things. I want a rabbit. I need to do something with those past-palatable-eating bananas. Where the hell am I going to get a pair of Stolen Girlfriends Club cable knit shorts, since there are none left in New Zealand? And the ever present, annoying, buzzing, gggnnnnnneeeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhnnnnngggggggeeeeeeehhhhhhnnnggggggeeeehhhhhh
of what I perceive or what I hope people perceive as 'MY STYLE'. A SIGNATURE. AVISUALLYRECOGNISBLEYETUNDEFINABLESARTORIALPRESENCE. By all means, do the quoty fingers thing.

The whole idea of fashion is to have fun with it (I get it) and the by-product bonus is that you will be clothed and warm and legally covered to venture out in public and do totally legal things. Plus, you have a constantly moving, everchanging and evolving identikit of threads that witnesses can identify you with.

But....it's hard. It's freakin' 'ard! It's not supposed to be hard. It's supposed to flow, be instinctual, be inherent. True luvers of fashun don't try hard. Am I a try-hard?

Influences. Inspirations. Leaders. Followers. Trends. Fads. The omni-present IT or X factor. Luxe. Less. More. Some. GRRRRRR. Above, I used the word 'perceive' because at the end of my day, what others think does count. Not in an I-want-to-please-you-and-get-your-approval way but in a more subtle context. Whether it should or shouldn't matter is a totally different rant. It. Just. Does. Count. To. Me.

Will-this-make-sense-to-others? Could-this-look-just-be-too-much? Am-I-a-sucker-for-wearing-this-trend/item? Do-I-look-wierd? Do-I-look-like-a-skank? Is-this-an-inspiring/inspired-look-or-do-I-just-look-tragic? Do-I-look-like-me-or-a-photo-copy-of-a-photo-copy-of-a-scan-of-someone-else? Is-this-how-I-want-people-to-classify-me? (Which they will and they do for they are human beings.) Does-this-represent-me? Do-I-look-like-me?

I've spent time editing The Rack, making lists, trying on, reading magazines, watching movies, reading blogs, shopping, online shopping, lookbooks, scrapbooks....lists,lists,lists. I think I'm making headway. I hope for your sake and mine that I am. Most of you don't check in for a random rant or read anyway, right? Just give us the pictures lady.

Here you go.

wearing: vest by shakuhachi via superette, thrifted knit and bike pants, jeffrey campbell 'foxy' platforms via nasty gal, rings by equip and diva, cuff from random hippie store on k road.

Check my baby, Pixie. Pixie-Lou Twiglet. I love my Pixie. She's nothing like the freakishly large, severly fluffy furball I wanted but I couldn't have found a more 'MY STYLE' puddy tat. She was the runt, unashamedly average looking and unapologetically loving.
She kept smooshing round my feet while taking these pictures, until I paid her the attention she demanded. Just like the Shakuhachi shag vest-extremely shaggy, uber fluffy furball that it is, demanding constant attention since I bought it and rightly so. It is awesome to wear. If I broke this down into cost-per-wear, I'd say the vest was free. An easy go-to piece. A basic that (obvi) is more statement. Two birds, one stone. STOP KILLING THE BIRDS!!! Anyway, I love this vest. So much so, it deserves a name. Any ideas?

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