spectating

A few summers ago I was peering suspiciously out my window at some shady vehicle outside my house, which of course turned out to be the street view camera truck:



Oh self, I thought, that's not a good look for a lady (which is now on the internet forever).

Then I found this vintage Dior ad and realized it actually is a super good look.


Then I found those exact vintage Dior glasses frames. I'm not lying.

I like that ad because it reminds me of Rear Window, and may be referencing that thing Hitchcock had for auxiliary female characters wearing glasses.


My favorite one of these, which I couldn't find a picture of, is in North by Northwest when he climbs into a hospital room and the woman inside is scared at first, then puts her glasses on and wants him to stay. Because, I guess he's handsome? He's like, this gross orange color in that movie if you ask me.

I didn't photoshop that.

ecstasy, weather

"All good books are alike in that they are truer than if they had really happened and after you are finished reading one you will feel that all that happened to you and afterwards it all belongs to you: the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was."

— Ernest Hemingway

Waldeinsamkeit

I've read some good books and some really terrible books, lately. It drives me crazy that some terrible books are just allowed out into the world. After all the things I've talked myself out of doing, some idiot just writes a terrible book - or worse, someone who's not an idiot allows themselves to write a book that they probably know they shouldn't have. There are terrible movies too, but that's different because it's usually a mania or a delusion that involves a whole group of people. Oh god, I watched this terrible movie, even though I knew I shouldn't have, that was based on a really great book.

Right now I might have to allow myself to do some terrible things, or else I risk not being able to do anything at all.

this enchanted life

Sorry I've been gone so long. Unless you didn't miss me. In which case, carry on.

What's new?

My new love is Design Masters spray paint. I had cold rice and a Go Girl energy drink for dinner.

This is a Free Water Show I saw a little while ago.

If you leave a fancy dress on the floor of your closet all winter long this is the fungus that grows out of it.

I'm just trying to live my best life.

this was going to be my summer look

But I forgot to be super fucking tan.
I also forgot to collect six thousand marionettes.
I remembered to be total lunatic, though.

I am washing the dishes

"She excelled at packing a suitcase. She told herself 'I'm good at packing a suitcase', forming these words in her mind to keep other words, other thoughts, from crowding in. The three days of St Philumena's were bleating to high heaven for formulation, but she kept them at bay as she muttered, 'Shoes there. Books here. The comb-bag in that corner. Blouses flat on the bed. Fold the arms. Like that. Then fold again. This way, that way. Hot-water bottle. Nothing rattling. Crucifix wedged in cotton wool. Catholic Truth Society pamphlet to read on the train. I am doing what I am doing'.

In this way, she subjugated St Philomena's for half and hour. She had devised the technique in the British Museum Reading Room almost a year ago, at a time when her brain was like a Guy Fawkes night, ideas cracking off in all directions, dark idiot-figures jumping round a fiery junk-heap in the centre."

- Muriel Spark, from "The Comforters"

"Dinky Dean Bossetti, is that the yellow sweater i bought for you last week? That was a thirty-two dollar sweater, missy, and you dyed it black, didn't you? After you promised me you wouldn't."
"Correction. I didn't promise I wouldn't. I said I'd try not to."

long overdue

"...and then I took a photo of the giant pile of hair."
"Did you put it on your blog?"
"Um...not yet."