beautiful kenyan (inspired) prints. SUNO ny

In this instant, I want to be, literally, in this model's shoes. The calm of the ethereal locale merely punctuated by a whispering flutter in the delicate shoulder ruffles of her blouse; the colors and the patterns — a cheerful interjection.

Now, what does one say about Max Osterweis, a man who is all fashion goodness through and through? Thing is, I remember calling my uhh (Kenyan) friend when the designer launched his SUNO line in 2008. We had the requisite ethical fashion-fashionably ethical discussion and I concluded that the designer and his pieces were simply brilliant. Pathetically, I've just dug up this post in my unpublished dungeon of an archive! I'm still dreaming in ikat prints.
Read his story.





Has Fall ever looked so uplifting?! (AW 2010)

SS 2010
Resort 2010




Sugar-frosted kisses.
I'm all sweetness these days... (Ha! b*tch!!)

revolve. recycle. save.

I stopped wearing jeans about five years ago. Actually let's make that all trouser or pant pieces — I've tried to make the preceding phrase sound less dirty/odd. Imagine if I'd said, "...stopped wearing all trousers or pants..." uhh what?!¹
Anyhow, after a series of spring-cleaning battles last month, I unearthed heaps of jeans that simply hadn't seen the light of day in years. They are now neatly folded. In a box. In the spare closet in the living room. I think I can remember which just by looking at it.
What??
I didn't say they'd get an airing only after another five years have passed. *groan*
When I get back home, I'll set about errm... giving them a new, caring home?? I hope.

But if you're in CA, you should do this:
[I wonder if they accept mail-ins-cum-online orders. (Online everything is how it really should work. It's 2010 for crying out loud. Err... Monsieur Chanel, s'habituer avec, peut-être?!!! Should I have said that in German?)]

As part of its recognition of Earth day, Revolve Clothing is hosting a Recycle your Denim event between Apr 20 and 30th. In which one brings in a pair of one's (old) jeans and gets 20% of one's entire store purchase. Sweet deal.
But I'm struck... by the fact that there's an actual RC (and perhaps, more importantly, über cool ForwardForward) boutique!!
How did I not know this? HAHA.
Seriously I just thought... well I didn't think... I ordered what I wanted and it arrived. C'est fini.

Ahh I learn new things everyday.



Footnote:
1. And yes indeed, I'm still surviving the harem/djibouti pants craze, although I've bought one or two pieces. Ha!! They remain unworn.
And... I still crave this by Marc Jacobs, Resort 2009 (left), and have tried this Matthew Williamson, Resort 2010, pair (right). Twice. (Love them even though they're too big and make me look like a fledgling hippie.)






X.XX.

sheer serendipity. rachel freire.

Incoherent.
I wished I smoked. Gauloises?

Is there an easier way to upload pictures unto my memoirs or am I just terribly stupid and masochistic?!! (That's not the term I'm looking for; I'm not deriving any sort of pleasure from the annoyingly tedious and (ulna)bone-twisting process!)

I can't bear to be hot (temperature-wise) at bedtime. Has the ash made London warmer?? I'm almost holding my breath; waiting for a plop of rain drop on my nose each time I step out (into the deceptively cooler air).

~ Three am: After a regular bout of insomnia, I drift into the Land of Nod with a little smile formed at the corners of my mouth. I love the South African FIFA 2010 World Cup commercial, something about "you've never felt this kind of rhythm" and all the happy South African — I presume — faces. Later, I awake to the beautiful chocolate-y bronze god that is the model in Chimere Skin Care for Men commercial. These glimpses into the African continent and of delicious blackness momentarily fill the gap that only seem to develop at that precise moment and make me love Brit tv. just. a. little.

All of this is neither here nor there.
Forgive me. I did warn you.

Anyhow, if you do know me, you know of my decadent love of sheer fabrics and ummm... my uhh...*whispering* boobs. So this morning when my thoughts fluttered — incomprehensibly — unto the the frilly mesh peasant blouse bound by the Kara corset, both by Rachel Freire, I knew I had to indulge. A knowing sense of delight — I could've said sheer delight! groan...I'm keenly aware of fighting a losing battle as a maddeningly repetitive series of puns involving the word "sheer" stream into my consciousness. Arrghhh!! — spreads through my being as I re-immerse myself the frilly crevasses of her A/W 2010 pieces. The mesh blouse is making the rounds in my head and I dreaming up all forms of possible layering; I won't exactly leave my house with my boobs in plain view! (Some of my wicked friends may beg to differ. What.e.v.s.)


London-based designer, Rachel Freire, has a background in fine art and made her debut collection at LFW with On|Off in February 2009. For such a new comer, Rachel Freire's unrestricted application of materials in developing all manner of restrictive pieces from the specs neck collars, to the corsets and suspenders is enthralling and spirited. There's simply so much to enjoy and contemplate...

Oh... I am dying for the glow-in-the dark!! frill and armor jackets. I want. now. Please... Thank you.x
Immerse yourself.

BRB. Or not.
There's so much I feel I want to say about these pieces.
I need a drinki, however.
Air kisses.

classic. now. and always. (future classics)

The most beautiful things are wrapped in heavenly soft tissue paper,¹ and tied in grosgrain ribbons² Hmm, okay... Maybe I'll allow for the ubiquitous strips of silk swathing. Then of course, they're mailed via ugly brown UPS boxes. Fashion e-commerce. Notwithstanding, anticipating that when I turn the key in the lock I'll have two or three boxes of smartly-wrapped packages — silk scarves, Nina Ricci, Gilt; a sold out black cardi, NAP) is a soothing, and yet thrilling proposition,³ enough to take the temper the reality of being back home (when I return to Boston).

So selfishly — and really, quite unselfishly too because prettiness makes the world go round — I'm thinking, perhaps, a piece or two from Future Classics would add to the thrill of walking through the door. To say the brand is aptly named is to acknowledge the beauty of cheek blush or that tall men must have (on average) longer appendages arms and legs! Designer, Julie Wilkins, has continually presented an innovative take on the everyday shirt, dress etc that her pieces seem to have survived through the 50s decade, but are very now and yet will transcend our time. It's all lovely minimalism and ruffles at once. Almost inconceivable when one considers the vogue of outer-space minimalism and structure that reverberates through our present fashion milieu; a metallic peau de soie (potato) sack with misplaced seams is soon heralded with maniac fervor! FC pieces are particularly refreshing; different, and yet familiar, the same.

Ample ruffles, and tucks — pretty! pretty!! The asymmetry in the cuts presents a futuristic air and the interjected feminine flowery prints lends a refined boldness. These digitally produced prints are achingly beautiful up close; our grandmas could have lived in them and yet they're so very now. The apparent juxtapositions — old/new/future; feminine prints/asymmetric cuts, they present a wonderful puzzle. But because we really think with our hearts — when it coms to fashion — FC pieces are just pretty things that will stand the test of time. A simple button-down white shirt has grown wings.

Drawing of white short-sleeve pod shirt above (front and back)

I'm dying for this "kimono check" print goddess blouse (at ForwardFoward). Its predecessor in black silk (A/W 2009) came with actual sleeves on the upper arm and I don't go anywhere for more than three days without it. Staple.







When did polka dots become terribly sexy??
Now.
Haute!
Reckless haute. (AT ForwardForward and FC online shop)




Kiss.kiss.


Footnotes:
1. More than one wrapping tissue paper is a waste!! And gives me a headache.
2. Grosgrain ribbons would be so much more pleasant because they'd easily double as head band ties; so much sturdier than silk, and much, more character in this case. I plan to use grosgrain ribbons myself...
3. I advise everyone to take this up. Coming home will become a lovelier prospect. Gosh I'm so full of ideas, aren't I?!!
(Forgive me if I've errors, no time to edit now. Yikes!)

ikat be. it is. (dries van noten)

Friends: Why haven't you written? (in some form or another).
Me: It got boring. I know ADHD seriously.

Even up until the previous evening I had to answer this unpleasant question. I felt terrible.
So...

Barring the vintage capsule — oh alright! And the pleasant Lanvin bag and jewelry section, which I've smartly began to dodge ignore because seriously how many times can a self-respecting young lady like myself and her not-so-self-respecting tween bro stop by a counter and not make a single purchase; I'm terribly prudent these days!! — so yes, and the Lanvin handbag/jewelry counter, the Dries Van Noten section on Selfridges' third floor always gets a once thrice over from me. (I know, I know, I already raved about Noten's prints two posts below, but I can't help myself. I don't get to touch Van Noten prints whence I cometh!!! (Louis Boston is no longer two stops away. Ugghh!)

Last Friday(?!!) I stopped by the Noten counter again. (Yes, I mingled with the onslaught of TGIF crowds: It was a compromise, little man admired the guitars in the basement floor then we trooped upstairs where I admired the clothes as he alternated between crying for his self respect and making nice so we'd leave as quickly as possibly.) I am drawn to the ikat silk print (pics) clutch that lies seductively on one of the show tables. It's a heady mix of prints!

Pics: Style
I love these purses so much, but I struggle with these awfully niggling objections each time I go in for a feel. The purse is nice enough, the simplest of envelope clutches, and really nothing to it (to be honest) — I've become awfully critical about purses — except the print, but I can't help loving it. And just as I start to finger its smoothness, the evil thoughts (all concerning my estimated value of the piece) break into my consciousness...
"It's so not worth the price."
"You could buy a similar print bag in Lagos/India/Uzbekistan — never mind the streets of NY — for peanuts."
"It's just the name you're attracted to, you superficial bag lady."
"Noten's making a killing of print techniques that belong to a less recognized people" Is that p.c.?? etc etc..

But, I'm determined to force these thoughts out of my head:
"Fashion is amoral and omnidirectional."
"And it certainly doesn't belong to a particular place/time, at least not so much anymore"
"Capitalism is a bitch" etc...

Of course, I've seen and felt the similar tie-dye print bags (in Nigeria). The last time (years ago, tourist-y shops) I ventured in search of a few, they weren't silk, they didn't smell pleasant, and my mom had precipitated her fear that the dyes would run into my clothing unto me. So maybe I'm turning up my silly nose, but I want my 'bright' print fabric bag — if I do get one — to, at least, smell! nice! Even if the colors fade.

I haven't bought the clutch. Yet. Sale maybe?
My penny-pinching ways and my ego/super-ego are bitter bitches trying to ruin my life.

I've also fallen in love with these and tried them (top *shiny-shiny* and necklace) on natch... (How do people work up the nerve to take pics of themselves in shops?! Never mind I'm against picture-taking; as a rule.)Necklace, also at Antonioli.





Lip-smacking sugar kisses on each cheek.

"a present? for me?" *wide-eyed* (...in my dreams)

Picture it: No seriously, you do it.
(I can't because I don't want to think that I could buy them, you know what they say... If you [or I] think you [or I] can, you can [and I will start scheming a way]. I don't even want to tempt myself, I already live beyond my umm.. nonexistent means. That, and I'd probably die from starving myself by the time I saved up enough to buy these beauties. [Valentino + Philip Treacy (but, of course!!) Colette, Paris.]

"gucci this gucci that"

Picture it: Living room floor. Subject in eighties neon leotard (the works...), lotus position on work-out mat ready to strengthen/lengthen those triceps/biceps with stretches? twists? curls? involving this gucci (horsebit buckle) belt. The buckle bit makes a good handle. It's a God-send really. I'm sure it works just as beautifully for the lower extremities, those thigh and calf muscles!

You must know how much I love (sartorially) versatile pieces. This – a belt that goes from a terribly sexy piece of accessory to an exercise implement in all of two milliseconds; Frida Giannini is genius. (I'm not terribly crazy about the black color (preorder at Saks, but, the grey (Gucci online)... I adore.)
Such cleverness.

Speaking of, I know you love the title of this post. I know I love it because I'm quoting a line from a rap star, whom I imagine is terribly famous; unfortunately, I'm not that bothered to google his name. Forgive me. (Baby steps.) But I will admit that the culture is flowing through my blue veins. While I'm semi-secretly repelled by the canvas logo print that can go on anything from your car seat to your toilet seat I suppose (I apologize, honestly, but eeck!!); and by extension, the name itself – Gucci¹ – because lines like the one from my title actually exist (no ummm... judging, I'm just making a point), I must admit I'm in flagrant lust with these recent steel-accented pieces. Shall we ogle together??

Picture it: biting sex. (steel tarantulas) (Mwahaha!! I can't explain.)



Greetings earthlings.
Double sugar kisses and ^{♪ ♫} may all your wishes come true ^♪.




Footnote:
1. I wonder which name/logo print I detest more, 'Gucci' or 'Vuitton'? No offense. I actually love them, but you know what I mean...