Tat Attack

     I have a huge, huge thing for tattoos. I love them. So I figured I would post some of my favorite pics that I've found over the years. I don't love all the tattoo designs, but sometimes it's the placement that I love, or even just a beautiful photograph.  Here are some of my favorites, more to come soon!

Words

"The brain appears to possess a special area which we might call poetic memory and which records everything that charms or touches us, that makes our lives beautiful."

- The Unbearable Lightness of Being

California Dreamin' on Such a Winter's Day

   As soon as I stepped outside today, I was immediately reminded of the marvelous song “California Dreamin’” by the Mama’s and Papa’s. The dreary, gray weather made me think of the song, which made me thing of California, which made me thing of surfing. Which made me thing of Proenza Schouler Spring RTW, obviously. Yep, that’s the caliber of the train of thought that goes through my brain. All I want to do today is be on a beach, or lazing in the surf, or even merely wearing one of the fabulous pieces of clothing from Lazaro Hernandez and Jack McCollough’s brilliant minds (which actually isn’t such a mere, obtainable wish, as we all know). I scourged through the archives of pictures I saved to my computer (I’m a crazy right-click-save fanatic) to find some images that would best satisfy my dreams of surf, spray, and sun-kissed skin. And apparently of dip-dyed hair and blissfully bright tie-dye dresses.

       

 

Gucci

I wish I could live in the Gucci ads above. And in the amazing clothing from 08RTW and 09RST. I especially adore the white dress with orange print that the amazing Abbey Lee Kershaw is modeling for 09RST. I'm so into chiffon and blousey, floaty things right now, and fur, and how amazing are the over-the-knee boots with the swinging tassles. The gold, the Nordic patterns, the 70's England rock 'n' roll vibe, the vintage feel, the Cossack influence. It makes me wish I had a great big field to run around in with my friends and take scrumptious pictures with. I'm officially in love with Frida Giannini and the aesthetic she portrays.

Desiderata

Desiderata

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Inspiration Sunday

              On this dreary and rainy Sunday I was just lolling around in my dorm room, pretending to do homework and lazily snacking on oyster crackers, just wishing it was Tuesday night where I could go home and prepare for the long weekend ahead of me that’s bound to be filled with food, family, and friends. My roommate was flipping idly through the channels when she stopped on Pirates of the Caribbean, At Word’s End. I was thrilled to see it, because Pirates of the Caribbean was a favorite film of mine for many years after it came out. I loved everything about it, the attitudes it embodied and embraced- freedom and fearlessness and a particular kind of recklessness. After watching, it, I felt just so inspired and, let’s be honest, a little wishing I was a pirate (granted, I was 11). While I’ve outgrown the desire to be a pirate, I still am inspired by the attitude, and furthermore, the looks of the pirates in the film. I decided to write a sort of series of things that inspire my personal style, which is, according to my friend, that of a “grungy, edgy hippie pirate whose grandmother was a fairy.” While I don’t really understand her examination of my personal style, I did get a good laugh out of it, and it made me sort of look at how I dress in a different sort of way. I began thinking of all the things that have inspired my style- influences on it, if you will- and the recent description of my style coupled with the viewing of the Pirates of the Caribbean movie made me realize how it might have had influence on my personal style now.
                The character of Captain Jack Sparrow represented to me the perfect guy. Now I realize that there is just a little too much crazy there for someone in the real life, but something about the tattoos, rings, and copious amounts of eyeliner that I found to be sexy. And I guess that’s carried through to my adulthood as well- give me a guy whose more rough-and-tumble, a little more rocker (albeit without the eyeliner) over a preppy boy or a bro any day. I still have a passion for eyeliner, as anyone who knows me could tell you, but now, I prefer it on me. And that got me to thinking that just maybe my style was more influenced then I even realized. I hate plastic, bright jewelry, and instead choose metal, chains, organic feeling things. I have more rings than I could ever possibly wear, and I am just dying to get a tattoo or so. While I can’t attribute my desires or likes for these things entirely or even partially to this film, I’m inclined to think it did have some sort of influence, especially in taking into regard how much I watched the film and how I so admired the freedom the characters in the movie had. Even the clothing! Washed-out colors and breezy layers…the fact that the costume director put so much thought and effort into every characters outfit, every layer, every piece, is inspiriting in itself. And I just love it, the free-flowing hair, the loose layers upon loose layers, and the muted colors. Anyone who knows me has probably never seen me in a color that’s brighter then a cobalt, aureoline, or coral, and I wouldn’t be caught dead in Kelly green. I like the colors that seem as though they’ve been sitting in the sun for years, or that the dye has been almost completely washed out. And of course, a lot of black. But I digress-I am in love with the aesthetic of the pirates in the movies, and the effort it takes to build such a detailed yet nonchalant wardrobe.

             If you are in need of some inspiration, I suggest watching the Pirates of the Caribbean film. Look at the costumes, the makeup, the cinematography of the film, and let yourself just soak up the inspiration. I know I did as a child, and it hasn’t been squeezed out yet.

Back in the Day...

         

             Back in the day, women seemed to really care about how they looked. They put time and effort into their appearance, and therefore took pride in it as well. It would be hard not to, with garments that were tailored to fit just their bodies, heels low enough to wear all day, every day, without extreme pain or permanent foot damage, and little hats to wear or red lipstick to apply. But no, today there is a widespread epidemic of sloppiness that is taking over the women of this country.  The majority of girls in my 8:00 A.M class wear sweat pants with salt-crusted Uggs from last year, a black fleece jacket over a baggy t-shirt, and hair and makeup as if they literally just rolled out of bed. And while they may have the argument that it’s too early to be conscious and looking good, or that they indeed did just roll out of bed, I don’t really find those to be excuses at all. This morning, for instance, I slept through my alarm and had woken up naturally and blissfully slowly until I looked at the clock, at which I jumped up and scrambled down from my bunk. I had woken up with literally 20 minutes to get to class, which gave me a solid ten minutes to prepare. Did I pull on deliciously comfortable, snuggly sweatpants, or my softest, comfiest big t-shirt? No. I pulled on a white cami, a drapey printed white tank top, and a thin, bat-winged sweater, and paired it with jeans and my trusty flats. After some excessive dry shampoo use and a couple coats of mascara, I was out the door, and to class with time to spare.

            If women all just took a little more time to get ready for their day, and took more pride in how they look, I think some huge differences could be made to the pseudo- dystopian American culture. Even if you don’t care about fashion, or style, there is honestly no good excuse to look like you rolled out of bed, even if you really just did. Pull on some jeans instead of sweats, a sweater instead of a hoodie, and either go completely fresh-faced or swipe on some mascara and go. And make sure you have plenty of dry shampoo.

Class or Trash?

          Now, I don’t consider myself to be a sort of fancy, prissy lady who curls her hair and prides herself on her skills in the social graces, and I don’t adore perfect makeup and coifed hair. I like to go to parties; I prefer to not look as though I spent hours getting ready. I sometimes swear, I probably kiss too many boys, and I’m reckless far too often. In other words, I’m far from being a perfect lady. But there are some things I would never do.
          I think good manners are in my blood. I have been trained since I was little to have respect, but speak your mind. Have a voice, but make sure you aren’t too loud. Be charming and witty and courageous, but never vulgar or obscene. These are the lessons that have stayed with me my whole life thus far. But it never ceases to amaze me how these girls my age, my supposed peers, act in public.
Seriously. Getting wasted at parties, for example. Now, I’ve had my fair experiences of being intoxicated, drunk even. But even drunk, wasted me doesn’t even come close to some of these girls. When I’m drunk, I tend to gabber away and laugh a lot, teeter around and flirt a little (or a lot, who am I kidding) and overall have a good time. I don’t throw up, I never fall over, and I’m never hung-over the next morning. But these girls…if you could only see them. So drunk they are falling over and needing their friends to literally pull them up from the sticky, beer-soaked floor, falling all over guys (sloppy, drunk kisses are disgusting to witness, really), puking in kitchen sinks, and on one occasion one girl actually tackled me to the ground and stuck her tongue down my throat. Yep, this girl was kissing me like mad while I squirmed to escape. Ew. And I just don’t find that classy behavior. If everyone and their brother (literally) are getting free front-row tickets to a viewing of you lady bits, maybe you need to re-evaluate some life decisions.
           That’s an extreme example, of course. Friday nights and Saturday nights always tend to be extreme. But I’m talking about day-to-day life too. Take my old roommate for example: “fuck” is her favorite word to attach before any word in a sentence. I once counted how many times she used it in a three-sentence conversation that we had. She used it seven times. Seven. She wasn’t even mad or upset. Its just part of her vocabulary. And don’t even get me started on her conversations over the phone with her pseudo boyfriend-once she called him up at 3:00 in the afternoon and talked dirty to him for a good, solid hour. With me right in the room. At my desk. Doing homework. It was so gross and graphic I actually had to look up a couple times to see if she was joking around. But nope, there she was, perched on the futon, talking in strangely sterile, clean dirty talk. Like, she was using words that she probably got from her anatomy and physiology book. That sort of clean. Shudder . It was an interesting experience to witness to say the least.
           And there are about a million other things I could rant about. Being honest is one thing, being rude is another thing completely, and there is a fine line between honest and frank and outright rude. There’s something called an educated insult, which is far more refined that merely calling a girl a slut or mocking a physical trait of hers. A tip for all women: Never allow yourself to be in pictures when you are severely intoxicated. Unless you have an uncanny ability so smile sweetly, or keep your mouth closed for more then 10 seconds, avoid drunken party photos at all costs. My former roommate asked why I never had party photos on Facebook. And I told her it’s because I don’t want the world of facebook to see me drunk, as I tend to think it’s a little unprofessional and definitely not lady-like to have photos of yourself grinding up on a pole or every photo being with my mouth hanging open. And for the record, I don’t do either of those actions. She, on the other hand, has whole albums dedicated to the different parties she attends. Which is fine for her, I suppose. I just don’t find it to be particularly classy behavior.
          Right now, my nails are chipped, my eye makeup is a little smudged, and I’m wearing just a pair of leggings, some legwarmers, and a cropped sweatshirt. I'm sipping on hot cider, not Four Loko. I’m comfortable, casual, cozy, and thank God, still classy.

                                                 Compare and contrast these two pictures...

What if Every Eye Found Everyone to be Beautiful?

                                                              The ever-lovely Olsen Twins

                                                      The French beauty Marion Cotillard

                                                              Adorable Maggie Gyllenhaal

                                                          The lovely model Coco Rocha

                                                           Pulchritudinous Cate Blanchett

                                                        Wide-eyed Amanda Seyfried

                                               How happy does Julia Roberts look? Gorgeous.

                                                          Kirsten Dunst not pretty? Pshh.

                                                       Lara Stone proves that gaps are sexy

                 And my favorite, Sasha Pivovarova's alien-esque, ethereal good-looks

  “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder”, or so the ancient saying goes. I believe this is true and false, and I’ll tell you why I think that. Of course, people find different people attractive, and that’s the only way the world really can function. Imagine if every man found one woman attractive, if all men were in love with one woman. Wars would be started and people would be killed. Yes, that’s an extreme example, but you get the point. But that’s just the thing.  I think everyone is sort of beautiful, in some way or another. There is nothing I hate more then to hear a girl call another girl ugly. I hate it.  It seems petty and a cheap, the lowest blow I can imagine. I mean, especially between women! We all go through the same things, we all go through feelings of self-consciousness or inadequacy, we all eat too much chocolate sometimes, we all think, feel, and act as women act. Women are women, and are different individuals, obviously, but to clearly and brutally state that a fellow woman is ugly just gets my goat. Everyone judges of course, and I’m not saying I’m any different. Of course I feel that some women are more attractive then others, but I never really think a woman is ugly. It is just crazy to me. And somehow I don’t mind so much when men call women unattractive. Maybe it’s a double standard, but maybe because it feels normal for men to judge, because they are the ones that need to date and wine and dine, and eventually have sex with, a women they see as attractive. And there are all sorts of guys who like different types of girls, and for a guy to find a certain girl unattractive seems normal. But for women to call another woman ugly, I just don’t get it. How pretentious can you be? Ok I’m beating a dead horse now.
            But seriously. Here are some pictures of women I all consider to be gorgeous. You may disagree, and I guess I can’t do anything about that. But to mock or jeer at a woman’s appearance, for which she has no control and possibly is insecure about now, and most definitely have been insecure about in the past (we’re women, seriously), seems immature and pointless. It’s one thing if a woman doesn’t take care of herself, if she doesn’t shower or wash her hair, wear clean clothing, or uses some deodorant.  But if a woman is trying her best to feel good about herself, who the hell are you to judge her? Ugh. It burns me, obviously. Look at those pictures above, look me in the eye, and tell me honestly that not every single one of those women are beautiful. Just do some re-evaluation about the world around you, and maybe everything, and everyone will start looking a little more gorgeous.