putting the fun in funeral

You might remember this dress. Even though I feature certain accessories quite heavily, I usually try to avoid blogging the same centerpiece twice. That said, the post in question was created before I’d solidified my mortician-school aspiration. The macabre, it pervades. Here’s what I might wear behind the scenes of my future funeral home.

funeral director III

New skull scarf! One of these days I’ll get around to that skull swag compilation I promised ages ago.

funeral director XII

I got these sunglasses for $1, marked down from $12. I didn’t notice the snakes until I’d gotten them home.

funeral director X

funeral director VI

funeral director V

funeral director VII

funeral director VIII

I bought these shoes for $10 back in October. I’m pretty sure they weren’t supposed to be worn without an attendant costume, but that’s how I roll.

funeral director IX

What I like about this picture is how bizarre it looks out of context. The black tights blur together and create the appearance of a single horribly misshapen leg.

funeral director XI

funeral director XIV

Dress & Shoes: Dirt Chic Scarf & Necklace: Christmas Bracelet: Claire’s Sunglasses: Old Gold Ring: Hand-me-down

Today’s song is one I’ve been listening to nonstop for the past several hours:

mooring it up (a.k.a world’s gothiest madonna)

Madonna in the traditional sense.

I shot with Brent Gould today. We’re developing a real partnership. And he’s always remarkably prompt in getting photos to me. He sent them before I even got home. There’ll be another batch tomorrow or later tonight.

Copyright Brent Gould 2013, obviously.

moorish II

moorish I

moorish III

Since I last saw him, Brent’s installed a funhouse mirror in his studio. You can see him in it, all distorted ‘n’ shit.

moorish IV

That freckle is pure biological coincidence.

moorish VII

moorish VIII

i’ve always wanted a tarantula

It’s true; I have. I can’t commit to caring for one at this point in my life, so I’ll make do with a shiny metallic equivalent. (Maybe I’ll get one when I move to New York for mortician school. Let’s see how many stereotypes I can fulfill, shall we?)

I took these pictures immediately after coming in from the wind and soft rain. My hair looks the way I wish it always would.

pink pants II

pink pants I

pink pants III

Here’s an example of how a mature coat can look simple and youthful. An interesting contrast to yesterday’s permutation.

I really like outerwear as the centerpiece of an outfit.

pink pants IV

pink pants V

pink pants VI

I like my face here. I feel all spunky and devil-may-care.

Coat: Old Gold Pants & Spider Necklace: Christmas Orange Necklace: Boutique in Maine Boots: Handed down from Mom

i’m going to look like estelle costanza in my old age

I’ve already got the “bottle redhead” thing down.

estelle I   estelle II

I like dressing too old for me. I’m tired of “vintage with a modern twist” – why the obsession with renovation? With youth? Make no mistake: I’m all for mixing. But some outfits are really better worn as they were intended. Committing to one solid look from head to toe is often a damn sight classier than more eclectic permutations. I don’t want “vintage-inspired”. I want straight-up vintage. Wearing something old enough to have been made in America, something preserved but still important, is a privilege. You’re wearing history.

Today I’m playing “well-dressed elderly Manhattanite”.

old lady I

old lady II

old lady III

Minimal jewelry here. The blouse is gaudy enough. I wish my webcam picked up how stiff and shiny it is.

old lady IV

Why am I not a flapper? (Answer: because booze is legal now.)

old lady V

old lady VI

old lady VII

old lady VIII

I got $100 to Old Gold for Christmas, and I spent $48 of it on this coat. Money fabulously spent. It smells like dust and forgotten grandeur. It puts me into a role I’m very comfortable playing.

old lady IX

old lady X

$1 sunglasses at Old Gold! Marked down from $12, believe it or not. I feel gorgeously lavish.

old lady XI

Coat, Blouse, & Headwrap: Old Gold Skirt: Battery Street Jeans Tights: Christmas Shoes: Stella Mae

wherein i have a love affair with skulls

Style should be more than just the clothes on your back, I think. It should pervade. I try to surround myself with as many eccentricities as I adorn my body with. To see the world through as artistic a lens as I can. Today I’m giving you a tour of my apartment. It’s a modest student space, and there’s not much I can do with it (fairly strict terms, and the lease runs out in May, so it’s not really worth an investment), but it contains the incipience of what I imagine doing when I’m more permanently settled. I am so looking forward to New York.

bedroom I

Voodoo doll a friend brought back from New Orleans.

Skull count: 2

bedroom IV

This desk is a fashion statement. I prefer to study in bed or in my beanbag chair, so the desk is free to fulfill more artistic ends.

bedroom V

I’ve adored Maleficent since I was four years old and saw Sleeping Beauty for the first time. I’ve collected so much Maleficent swag over my lifetime – dolls, posters, even a Disney villain commemorative tissue box. A lot of it’s been thrown away over the years, but this doll will always have pride of place in my bedroom.

bedroom VI

Believe it or not, this is the organized version.

Fashion bloggers tend to separate into “collectors” and “editors”. Collectors hoard; editors prune. I am a collector unabashed. More items, more combinations, more opportunities.

bedroom VII

Dinner!

bedroom VIII

Closeup of my bedspread.

bedroom IX

Bedspread and floral blanket.

bedroom X

Skull count: 3

bedroom XI

My jewelry gets tangled daily.

Skull count: 4

bedroom XII

bedroom XIII

Skull count: 5

I really ought to do something with this fabric. I bought it years ago. In the name of not wasting it, I’ve been putting off playing with it until I’ve found a design worthy of it.

bedroom XIV

The dye I use. Garnier Nutrisse R3. I’m re-dyeing tomorrow!

bedroom XV

Skull count: 7

bedroom XVI

Awesome gothy goblet. I had another one, but it broke.

bedroom XVII

Everyone should read The Year of Living Biblically. As a religion major, I ate up the theory, but it’s also highly politically relevant.

living room I

Living room.

living room II

I bought this armchair for $15 at the beginning of this school year. It is my very first piece of grown-up furniture: it was not previously owned by a member of my family, I bought it with my own money, and it’ll probably accompany me to various lofts and apartments for the next ten years.

This isn’t bad for now. But someday I’ll want a permanent home I can craft entirely in my own image. It’ll look like some, or all, of these (I’m warning you that the rest of this post is unabashed interior-design porn):

awesome room   awesome room V

awesome room VI

I’m from rural Vermont. I was raised on wood and brick. I still love how cozy they make a room.

awesome room III

My style has become more and more old-fashioned. I nurse a not-so-secret dream of becoming a haughty neo-flapper society dame smuggling whiskey in her bloomers. I want to dress like Roxie Hart and walk like Velma Kelly. And I want to come home to surprising softness.

awesome room IV

I love high ceilings and semi-dangerous scaffolding.

awesome room VII

There’s a demon in that wardrobe. I can feel it.

awesome room VIII

awesome room IX

I’m good at making friends with ghosts.

awesome room X

awesome room XI

I’d hide a different lover in every drawer.

awesome room XII

awesome room XIII

awesome room XIV

awesome room XV

tutu 2.0 (now 37% less gaudy)

Yar, here be life decisions. I promise: just wade through a few paragraphs and you’ll get some pretty pictures.

I’ll finish my sophomore year of college in May. I’ve been studying religion and Latin, but despite the fun I’ve had, I always knew that University of Vermont wasn’t really where I wanted to be. It was my safety, and I’m an in-state student, using the school as a metaphorical holding tank until I found something better. I’ve always known I needed to do something macabre with my life. Every career I’ve ever aspired to has been pretty dang morbid: criminal psychologist, prison guard (hey, I thought I’d end up a lot taller than I am now), FBI agent. I’m very comfortable in the underbelly of the world, and someone has to work there.

Long story short, I’ve decided to apply to the American Academy McAllister Institute of Funeral Service in New York City. I originally had my eye on Chicago (which fell through for reasons I won’t go into), or Montreal, but New York is an excellent alternative. I badly need the pulse of a city, and I’m tapping into it a little with this outfit. Consider it practice for living in New York.

I reworked the tutu outfit from last month. It was altogether too busy. I should really let a piece like this stand more or less alone. This time, I went with a few broad blocks of color and kept smaller details to a minimum. The forgiving sweater and smooth jacket also streamline the outfit quite a bit. The leather jacket kept things too bulky; tutus demand flow.

Inspiration courtesy of Franceta Johnson.

tutu II

tutu III

tutu IV

tutu V

tutu VI

tutu VII

tutu VIII

tutu IX

tutu X

Sweater & Jacket: Battery Street Jeans Tutu: Old Gold Tights: Wild Mountain Thyme Shoes: Stella Mae

steampunk mcgee

I go back to Burlington the day after tomorrow. Out in the boonies, I haven’t been leaving the house much. Today, though, I went out poetry slamming, so I had an excuse to doll myself up.

I’m really not comfortable unless I’m dressed up. Tossing my shoes and slipping on yoga pants is an earned pleasure after a day of tights and bangles, embodied for a few hours at the end of the day. It’s never a constant. I can’t spend more than a day in pajama pants. It feels like taking canvas from a painter.

steampunk VII

steampunk I

This is a blouse/vest combination I used to wear in high school (usually in a costumey context, funnily enough). I must’ve been a senior last time I wore it, and I didn’t fill out the vest even remotely. It looked pretty masculine. I love how close it fits now. I referred to this concept a few posts ago: the contrast between a masculine outfit and a feminine fit.

steampunk II

steampunk III

steampunk IV

steampunk V

I didn’t crop these two because I think the background fits really well.

Anyone notice my hair is two inches shorter?

steampunk VI

Blouse & Vest: Bag sale Skirt: Battery Street Jeans Boots: Handed down from Mom Tights & Jewelry: Christmas