full of grace

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Sometimes you get all dressed up for a creepy doll shoot, realize you’re actually a really fucked up madonna, and wonder what Freud would think of that. Trick question: it doesn’t matter because he’s dead and he was a hack anyway. In these shots, Holly and I are the quintessential dark mothers. The black goats of a thousand young. The progenitrices of all that lives under your bed.

I tried to go for a highly saturated movie-still look with these. Here’s hoping it came out.

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So this weekend Holly and I attended Ghostacular: Paranormal Convention. The event specified “costumes encouraged” – not that we need explicit encouragement to wear costumes. Not that we actually called these outfits “costumes”, either – they’re more or less our typical weekend ensembles.

ParaCon was fun. I bought some cute pumpkin soaps. Sometimes it scares me to be in the presence of so many people who all believe the same thing, though. I attended three talks at the con, and while they were all interesting, only one bothered to address the skeptical side of things. Regardless of my love for the supernatural, I am, at heart, a skeptic. I don’t think paranormal experiences exist outside of one’s brain. That doesn’t mean they aren’t valid experiences – romantic love is just chemicals, after all, and look how much of our society is devoted to its pursuit.

Maybe I wasn’t the demographic ParaCon was courting. I don’t want to impose my preferences on a group I don’t necessarily consider myself part of. But it does unnerve me on a visceral level to see people accept anything without questioning it.

All that said, though, I do love suspending my disbelief, and I do love soaking up lore. The con certainly wasn’t short on that. Methinks I need another Queen City Ghostwalk one of these nights.

Photos of me taken by Holly. Photos of Holly taken by me.

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My new soaps!

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the beautiful side of decay

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It’s Art of Horror time again! It’s a juried show featuring works that “represent the beautiful side of decay, the finer points of blood letting, and that special something inside a depraved mind.” Last year Josh’s work was exhibited, and this year mine was! I dressed in my spookiest finery for the opening on Friday night, saw some bloody burlesque and a simulated human sacrifice, and gorged on eyeball cake pops. In other words: I was home.

The pieces will hang until October 25th. In the meantime, take a look at my favorite works. Mine is not among them because I stupidly forgot to photograph it. But you’ve seen it on the blog before: it was this photo!

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real live ghost


Since I’m big on both a) creepypastas and b) misleading the public, here are my attempts at some “real live GHOST!!!1111!!!1!” shots. It’s so damn easy to trick the naked eye – I mean, we’re programmed to find faces in just about anything. But it’s kind of amazing to see just how otherworldly you can get with just a point-and-shoot and some lanterns.




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Those of you who monitor my FAQ page have heard tell of my love for creepy pastas. For the uninitiated, creepy pasta has fuck all to do with any actual noodle dish. It’s a takeoff on “copypasta” (itself a takeoff on “copy/paste”), which is “internet slang for any block of text that gets copied and pasted over and over again“. Basically a text-based meme.

Creepy pastas are 21st-century gonzo horror. Gone are the days when ghost stories were handed down until they bore little relevance to their actual audience. You can only read about so many haunted Olde English bridges. The creepypasta phenomenon, like most other things net-based, brings horror into the realm of what’s actually scaring people in 2014. It’s more immediate, and therefore more visceral. What it really comes down to is the democratization of storytelling, something I’m all for. Art by and for anyone with a message to shout, regardless of access to traditional modes of expression. It’s why I love fashion blogging. Quoth this io9 article:

Creepypasta works best when the medium infects the message — in fact, when the messageboard infects the message, and you get a sense of the internet starting to talk about itself. Since these stories are shared on forums, why not use the direct and unliterary vernacular of the everyuser to tell your story, putting it as an anecdote?

My favorite method of ingesting this delicious, delicious pasta is via YouTube – specifically, Mr. Creepy Pasta and Creeps McPasta. Between the two of them and their dedication to recitation, there’s a story for almost everyone. Josh prefers parables, like “The Pickpocket’s Destiny“, and Lovecraftian eldritch horror, like “Yellow Raincoat“. I’m drawn mostly to dreams, mirrors, and time warps. Basically anything mindfucky, like “Tulpa“.

Which brings me to the real crux of all this explanation: if Josh and I were to make a YouTube channel reviewing our favorite creepy pastas, would we get any viewers? I’m not sure how much overlap exists between fashion bloggers and horror enthusiasts, but I’m hoping it’s at least a little. If you’re on my blog, it’s a good start. I’ve crowdsourced on Facebook already, with roundly supportive results. I’m hoping to draw fans from multiple corners of the internet.

Anyway, today’s outfit is a paean to the art and science of a good scare. Josh got me this dress for Christmas, but I’ve waited to blog it until I could truly find an ensemble to do it justice.

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The crackhead society dame rears her head again – except this time she’s gone even madder than before. You don’t want to know what that dress is stitched from…

I went for a spooky, Olde Hollywood, vaguely Hitchcockian vibe. I hope it shows.

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Dress: Rusty Zipper Coat, Fishnets, & Headpiece: Old Gold (snagged during their 50% off sale going on right now!) Brooch, Boots, & Necklace: Battery Street Jeans Belt: Downtown Threads Nails: Spirit Halloween

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