I may be just as insufferable as I was last year, but dammit, I think I produced some pretty good art in 2014. If 2013 was the year I “actually took on some semblance of a recognizable style“, then 2014 was about figuring out how to work my goddamn camera.

These are my favorite posts of the year. This isn’t just a “hey give me a lots of clicks” attention grab; I have slightly more integrity than that. I just really enjoy seeing where I am artistically. And, y’know, getting lots of clicks. I’m only human.

pair I

bloody snowmy tacky manifesto

pair II

garden of earthly delights & something is terribly wrong with the princess

pair III

loonette’s heyday & girl on the burning tightrope

pair IV

my precious & by the sea (mr. t)

pair V

steam for a day & curvy girls with floral curls

pair VI

curious little beastie & decadent decades

pair VII

mad as a hattrix & rockabilly religion major

pair VIII

the traveling yellow skirt freak show & the other holy grail




to get the thing that makes it worth the journeying


I paid to see two movies this year: Maleficent in May and Into the Woods last night. I’m just not the moviegoing kind. I usually prefer Netflix and a trough of booze (you can’t do shots in a theater), but 2014 saw the release of my two holy grail movies. Granted, my love of Sondheim doesn’t hold even a candle to my love of Maleficent, but Into the Woods is still my favorite musical; the Witch, still my dream theatrical role. She juuust beats out Mrs. Lovett.


I’m ashamed to say it, but I actually liked Into the Woods better. As I wrote in my review, I loved the Maleficent parts of Maleficent, but the other characters failed to cohere and the story lacked the depth it could have had. But Into the Woods was basically perfect. Even the casting choices I’d raised my eyebrows at ended up pulling through in the end. And if Meryl Streep doesn’t get an Oscar nod, I’ll eat my beloved red hat.



I am a great connoisseuse of the movie musical, and I must say Into the Woods marries bombast and intimacy better than any other I’ve seen. You have to expect some scenery-chewing, especially where Meryl Streep is concerned, but nothing about this version felt maudlin or stagey. Maybe it did to others, but the whole gimmick of Into the Woods the stage play is the characters’ self-awareness. They are fully cognizant of being characters in a play. Any overacting felt like a nod to that spirit. The dialogue was elevated and almost archaic, but it worked.

And I totally want Red Riding Hood’s entire outfit, but that’s a story for a greedier sermon.





the other holy grail



Sometimes you’re killing time at Old Gold before work and you decide, because you’re an incorrigible masochist, that trying on the fit-and-flare with the Peter Pan collar might be a good idea. It’s just for fun, you keep lecturing yourself, knowing full well that the purse strings are already loosening.

And then you pay up front and walk out wearing the dress, because sometimes good vintage is a matter of imprinting, really. Would you abandon a duckling that decided to make you its mama?

This dress is my Christmas present to myself. (If you follow my Facebook, you’ll notice that I also received a 40-legged stuffed caterpillar as long as I am tall and that it is the light of my life. I am a simple creature, driven by good vintage and weird garish novelties.)




red forever, ceasing never



Et in terra pax hominibus, bonae voluntatis.

(Literally translated, that means “merry fucking Christmas, bonehead.”)

In my future is rummy eggnog and lots of homemade Greek food. My last name ain’t Makaris for nothing. If we get drunk enough, maybe I’ll teach my parents to play Cards Against Humanity…




the demon and his dames

krampus II

This Saturday was my first cabaret since September; Nightmare and Carbon Leaf stole me away in the interim. Since I’m ~too cool~ for the whole “sexy Santa” thing (that, and Josh finds it an active turn-off), we went the more hipster route. Holly and I dressed as the holly and the ivy, and Josh…you do you, Josh. He dressed as the Krampus (the Austrian Christmas demon) complete with basket and switch, and won the costume contest for it. Alas, his only gain was a signed poster – none of the free porn of contests past.

By the way, my “Ivy” dress is for sale on Etsy!

All photos copyright Zinfandel Photography.

krampus III

krampus I krampus IV

krampus IX

Everyone wanted a turn under the switch.

krampus V krampus VII

krampus VI krampus XIV krampus X krampus XII

merry and bright


Sometimes, everything bores me.

And, you know, I’m really not into that. The last thing I want to be is disaffected. I’m someone who likes to find rudiments of joy everywhere. Angst is alien to me, which is why it’s so strange and scary when my mindscape curdles. Depression isn’t me. It’s the light slipping out of the sky and beauty receding from the ordinary. It’s wanting to shed yourself and find somewhere new, but knowing you’ll carry the weight wherever you go.

It’s why I need color.



This summer I’m going to Portland. I’m going, like I’ve always wanted, to see the Pacific Northwest. “Josh,” I told him last night, “I need to see something different.”

“We’ll start saving after Christmas,” he said, “and we can be there by July.”


Maybe there’s something for me on this barren planet after all.






I love dressing like a caricature of myself. Some retro girls are less obnoxiously Retro, with nuanced outfits less dripping in cliche than mine. Not me. Sometimes I want to look like I stepped not out of the distant past, but out of a garish ’80s editorial about said distant past. Sometimes I want to hit all the tropes in one: polka dots, peter pan collars, and several dozen petticoats.


Yup, that’s a broken foosball table. It appeared in my backyard one day, and I’m too lazy to move it. o.O