Oooh...I love the new and striking, early 70s-esque Longchamp ads featuring two of my top four models--Kate Moss and Sasha Pivovarova. You all know and love Kate by now (if you don't then you must have been living in a cave since 1992 and have a lump of coal where your heart should be), but you probably don't know Sasha. While she lacks the fleeting fame of ubiquitous "it" models like Agyness Deyn and Daisy Lowe (daughter of Gavin Rossdale), her photos are always beyond mesmerizing. Plus, she's been the face of Prada since 2005. I blame her lack of household namehood on the fact that there are three, count them 1...2...3, Vs in her name. Sasha Pivavorova. Whoa.

Oh and I won't leave you guessing. My other favorite models are doll-faced Lily Cole, and Sean Lennon duet partner Irina Lazareanu. I despise Agyness Deyn. Not really her as a person, but everything that she represents. It's supposedly some sort of industry secret that she's old. Like 26 and just getting started? Whoa again.



Follow my blog with bloglovin´

I'm trying to figure out bloglovin' so that following will be easier for you and me both. I deleted the "lovers" section of my blog, soon to be replaced (hopefully) with a "follow me with blog lovin'" badge. Does that mean that you guys can no longer follow? I was aiming just to delete your lovely faces off my blog, not prevent you from being able to follow. If it took my blog off of your subscription list, I do hope that you will manually enter the URL into your list of blogs you follow. As in, do that NOW. mmkthanks.

Doesn't "BLOG LOVING" look like a phrase from a foreign language?


OH HAI what are you doing this weekend? Cuz you should totally go to this thing Saturday night. It's called Sew the Seeds and it's being held at your favorite haunted haunt, The Spanish Moon. There will be music, a dance party with The Real Steven, and a parade of supercute, one of a kind fashions. I know because I've got that VIP status and I've already taken a peek at them. Yours truly will be walking the walk and literally auctioning the clothes off my back for my beloved Vicki and her good-doing causes. This time it's the Global Volunteer Network. I also went darker and redder for that girl just when I was beginning to like my lighter locks. Sooooo come watch me clumsily strut around in a cute little frock, meet the event coordinator and all around fab lady Vicki--who also does THE best hair in Baton Rouge, dance your sweatshirts off, and drink that drank. See you there kitty kats.



A few things you might not know about me: 1. I got a degree in Cell & Molecular Biology (what?) 2. right now I'm working on my masters in Philosophy (again, what?) and 3. I don't plan on "using" either one (WHAT?). What I really want to do is what I'm doing here-- something fashionable, something written, something fashion magazine centered. Nothing like what I've done in school, but it's not all for naught. In fact, studying philosophy will get you those mad world skillz, although you better learn your social skills elsewhere. Social butterflies should expect to be shunned amongst the halls of Coates. There is a reason why we hide our offices in the attic and the TAs call it "secret philosophy cave." Yes, it is a Platonic pun. And the printer used to go by "Socrates." NERDS, hell yes.

Anywho I wrote a blog about Christmas, being bipolar, and philosophy a while ago. I think I had a case of the debbie downers or maybe the jitters, but it's like I've got this tempting blog where I can share all my secrets and half-thoughts not so anonymously ALL OVER THE INTERNET. I feel safe because I can't see your face which means I can't see your disapproval/censure/fear. It's all confidential right?

Let's start with the gift. In celebration of the season I have compiled a little existentialist playlist for you. I put some happy tunes on there too so we don't over kill ourselves. Scroll to the very bottom and you'll find what's resting under the tree. Sorry that I didn't have time to wrap it. People got to work these days.

Wait, what does the birth of baby Hay-zeus, 8 days of lamp oil, or cultural pride have to do with Jean-Paul Sartre (Camus, if you like)? I don't know about you guys but when the fits of merriness die down I'm often left in a wake of restless existential upsets. Oh you know quiet moments when Being is just far too much to bear. Like what am I doing here? And what is this clump of matter I call my own? Nauuusseeeeaaa.

There is a flipside though. You can either drown in a pool of your own disgusting Being, or you can become the golden god of your own kingdom. One is responsible for all things, bears the weight of the whole world, chooses his own birth. It's a hefty burden, but it also makes you the ruler of all things. The king of the world. Your own...personal.....Jesus. Reach out, touch faith.

Sartre ate a lot of speed. I think this is relevant here. Plus he'll be remembered for his plays, not his philosophy. Also relevant.
Unlike Sartre I won't be remembered for anything because I'm not relevant in any way. Except for if I die really soon and you guys continue to post comments on my blog/myspace/facebook wall. Then I would live in the internet. OMG I just realized the internet is heaven. Or hell. Sartre said "Hell is other people," and we are all going to live there together forever.
All dogs go to heaven, all ppl go 2 teh interwebz.

In all seriousness winter is my favorite time of the year because there is something so wonderful about its wretched loneliness. Remember the great blizzard of Baton Rouge '08? You've got to feel the bitter biting wind and maybe a little snow to enjoy the warmth of a snugglebunny in a makeshift blanket hovel. Up and down, up and down, free wheeling see-saw-ery. And there is nothing quite like Chrismahanakwanzakuh to bring forth these underlying emotional bipolarities that plague our youth. Like you might think you are bipolar but really you are just flipping an existential coin. Or you might just be thirsty, like when you crave ice cream or that time you thought about having an abortion.

Bah. How strange it is that you are reading this thing I wrote.
How strange it is to be anything at all!

If I don't see you, Merry Chrismahanakwanzakuh bitches



"It" bags are out, and "it" shoes rule. What are "it" shoes? Peep these Rodarte heels to find out.
I forgot who did the blue ones (damn), but the gold ones are by Christian Louboutin (see the hint of red sole at the heel?). I really love walking around barefoot, but if shoes like these are lying around... well, I'd at least have to try them on. I'm like, supergay for them. I don't even really want to wear them so much as I just want to look at them.
Creep mode alert.

Prada and Miu Miu have been making surrealistic dream heels for years. It's kind of their schtick. But now it's like all the fancy fashionistas want fun feet. Forget function. F that (alliteration) !


Oh my audience of 16 readers... where have I been? What exciting things have I been doing for the past WEEK? and Did I bring you a gift from my exotic travels? Bet you thought daddy was gone for good this time.
Well, the truth is as exciting as it is unexciting. 1. I had finals and after procrastinating and publishing 4 entries in like, idk, 4 days, I actually had some work to do. 2. then it was denouement. C. denouement is one of my favorite words (big enough to impress Gabe?) 4. my camera came in! and finally, 5. I've been planning and preparing things for this little blog so it'll be good enough to cut the fashion mustard.
Did I just combine 2 separate idioms? I love it when that happens because nobody knows what they mean anyway, but we can use them to create new meaning. Communication and meaning are nebulous?
At this point in time I've got like 8 blog entries running around in my brain. Maybe 2 of them are saved to Microsoft Word. But I also have an epic headache right now that has zero to do with last night's activities. It's okay though because I'm nursing it with some ibuprofen and a $6 bottle of water that is 100x purer than you'll ever be.
In the oh-so-cute words of Marissa, toodles poodles.



Soooo..... watch that little Dior video a few posts down because it confirms, amongst other things, that French people make the best music. And a chica on another blog translated the lyrics thusly:

"Me I play, I play at cheeks against cheeks, I play at cheeks against you, but you, do you want to?, With all my heart, I want to win this heart against heart, You know my game by heart, So defend yourself"

I didn't know I could something so much.



So the other night I wore my long gold chain necklace with the tiny gold coins backwards-- as in the long part went down my back while the front part nestled in my collarbone. The back of my top was cut in a low scoop so it seemed only natural to do so. I don't think anyone really noticed, or maybe they just didn't get it, but Elliot was all, let me fix your necklace girl. That's how I wear it these days fool. Now take that idea to your anthropologie merchandisers, I said.

Looks like I'm not the only one:



this were my life. Girling out all over Paris with a happy little tune and Sofia Coppola running the show. Oui Oui indeed.



There are two types of fashionistas on this planet: those who like to see, and those who like to be scene. And although I've always considered myself a part of the former, I realized that my favorite blogs feature the lovely author displaying artfully posed ensembles in her mundane bedroom. So I ordered a fancy digital camera that isn't quite fancy enough to make me look like I know what I am doing, but it is enough for me to claim entrance into the 21st century. Awkwardly posed pictures of me in my vintage abode (harvest gold and avocado and poppy orange!) or the square patch of grass called a backyard are forthcoming. Or maybe I'll take them in the laundry room cottage. I'll brave the hazards of angry wasps and poop and lonely socks for fashion.

Since I'm not one to be scene, I would love for some of y'all to come to come over and play dress up sometime. Or maybe I'll come to you. Depends on how big your closet is.

Ah, slowly filling my life up with up-to-date technologyz.



I've never been a Victoria's Secret girl, mostly because the quality is poor and the designs are much too tacky for my sophisticated underthings taste. I'm all, skip the PINK--get me a Calvin Klein or DKNY set pretty please. That is until Vicki started making silk lovelies and vintage-esque teddies again:

I'm not sure where I'll wear it, but I'm pretty sure I'll wear it everywhere if Santa gets me one.
Officially added to the wishlist.


I've been meaning to let you all in on a secret of mine. With the holidays just around the corner and a new issue released, it's the perfect time to indulge ourselves with a little treat. Meet N.E.E.T. magazine, an online, Brit-based quarterly publication that focuses on "grassroots creativity and craftsmanship" --fancy words for independent designers, vintage clothiers, and earth-friendly fashions. Whatever flavor of indie you crave, be it uber cute Asian-inspired street styles, ultra hip urban wares, girly antique grandma looks, or quirky high fashion ensembles, N.E.E.T will find an independent company (usually just a crafty gal with some time on her hands) to suit your tastes. Think of it as your go-to guide for online vintage stores and etsy shops, without having to wade through all of the junk. It's the perfect source for finding one-of-a-kind yet affordable gifts for friends and family. And it doesn't hurt that their website is super easy to navigate. If you see something you like simply click on it and a new browser will direct you to your desires, all without straying away from the mag. Did I mention that they have some of the best fashion layouts? This issue's Miss Lulu and The Teaspoon Shortage is a must-see. God, even the title is brillz.
the current issue.

totally cute previous issues.