victory-ish

best dressed collage

couple collage

So I did not win either category. Neither did Josh win best-dressed man or best facial hair. And I am kind of a sore loser – I’m an only child, what do you expect? But after I got done breaking stuff, I made myself remember that least I was a finalist – at least I still got my picture on the Seven Days website and a decent amount of exposure. And the people who won in both categories are kind of legit famous. Kat Wright is basically Burlington’s next Grace Potter. So there’s a certain fan base inherent in her campaign that I can’t really touch. It’s not an insult to my fashion prowess.

And I’m really happy about the representation in “best couple”. It’s nice to see Seven Days make plain that being publicly naked or getting buttloads of tattoos doesn’t preclude your ability to commit to a healthy relationship. Even the degenerates deserve love. It’s particularly nice because Josh and I are non-monogamous. You know this if you know us/have been hit on by one of us in real life, but I realized I have a lot of readers who don’t, and I often go back and forth on whether to “come out” to them. On the one hand, it’s fundamentally none of your damn business. On the other, while it really isn’t any of your damn business, it’s also the only way to gain representation. We think of poly relationships as doomed to fail because we hear, pretty much exclusively, about the ones that do. We think of non-monogamy as something that other people do. Practitioners couldn’t possibly be our neighbors or our co-workers or our vintage fashion bloggers. A couple of generations ago, we thought the same of queer and trans people, and look how much visibility has done. Not that I think the non-monogamous are oppressed, exactly. But being perpetually misunderstood (sometimes in really cruel ways: I’ve been told I’ll “die alone because no one can satisfy” me) is still a pain.

Josh is my primary partner, my life partner, and I love him to death. That doesn’t mean we own each other. It means we trust each other. And 10,000 Vermonters decided our relationship is a paragon of the genre. That’s pretty awesome.

…that got really soapbox-y really fast. Regularly scheduled outfit posts shall resume on the morrow.

 

the ol’ DTs

This marks the first in a series of posts exposing the best and brightest of the Burlington thrift scene. 2014 will be the year I get superserious about slow fashion and recycling garments, and I plan to use my blog not just for my own creative ends, but to highlight artists and locations I admire. This week’s edition features Downtown Threads, open 11-7 on Church Street.

dt II

Downtown Threads is significantly more curated than a lot of secondhand stores. Sure, you’ll find a solid few New Look dresses and ’60s shifts, but the store’s overall aesthetic is highly bohemian. Think flowing tops and big sunglasses. Think Aztec print, drug rugs, and vision quests. If you ever find yourself road-tripping across the western seaboard, yearning for the perfect complement to your Levi’s and water bong, you should probably turn that ‘stang around and hit up Downtown Threads.

Oh, and the cowboy boots. You mustn’t forget the cowboy boots. If it doesn’t look good with cowboy boots, you won’t find it in stock.

dt VI

 

Check out the most eye-catching of what Downtown Threads has to offer. I admit my own bias – so I’m not that into drug rugs. FILE A LAWSUIT – but I hope my collection might inspire someone, nonetheless, to get off the damn couch and investigate good ol’ DT. While the prices can be a smidge high, everything they carry is in excellent condition. They don’t take just anything off the street.

dt IV

 

dt collage I

 

dt V

 

dt XI

 

dt XXIII

 

dt collage II

 

dt XIII

 

dt XXII

 

A whole wall of LBDs!

dt collage III

 

dt XXI

no rest for the wicked

prehaunt XXIII

 

We opened last night. And, of course, Murphy’s Law dictated that I left my camera battery charging away in my bedroom. As such, I have no evidence of the glory that was my costumes. I’ll do my best to snap some tonight, though. (But seriously, fuck Murphy.)

I took these photos last week, but I haven’t had a single spare moment to edit and post them until now. “After Halloween” has become my stock answer when invited to do anything. From now until the 31st, I operate on three settings: work, haunt, sleep. Last night Josh and I stumbled in at around 1 (his haunt opened last night too), glanced at the pile of clothes on the bedroom floor – let’s be real, they’re mostly mine – and agreed “we’ll clean it up after Halloween.”

I wanted to show you guys what a haunt in progress looks like, though. To most people, haunted houses are perfectly polished spook, but it’s funny how normal it becomes when it’s your bread and butter. The unusual nature of the work kind of gets lost when you’re clomping around all “where’s that goddamn coffin?!” I suppose the same is true for any unusual occupation: our work looks exotic, but we’re just people. And I appreciate anything that humanizes the absurd and the larger than life.

prehaunt III

 

The Forest consists of a series of self-contained scenes all united by a single theme. This year’s is Merry Olde England; particularly inspired past themes include Twisted Fairy Tales and Creepy Carnival. Groups of audience members are led by cloaked guides through a meandering trail, with scenes installed along the way. Actors do each scene 40 times on a light night.

The entire Forest is lit by pumpkins, carved by a crack team of volunteers. That’s mine second from the right.

prehaunt XI

 

3spoopy5u

Our venue serves as a series of bike trails for most of the year. During Forest time, the lodge’s racks of helmets and rows of spare tires are swapped out for greasepaint, pumpkins, and capes by the dozen.

prehaunt V

 

prehaunt VI

 

prehaunt VIII

 

Our super haunted headquarters, filled with super haunted things like…uh, couches, and snacks, and floorboards.

prehaunt IX

 

I love that I work in a place where no one bats an eye at this label.

prehaunt VII

 

My super spooky sweater. One day I will own tacky sweaters for every holiday, even the obscure sectarian ones.

prehaunt XIII

 

prehaunt XII

 

I’d really like a pet ghost.

prehaunt XV

 

It’s just like any other volunteer event, except for the coffin sneaking into the frame. No biggie.

prehaunt XVIII

 

prehaunt XIX

 

prehaunt XXI

 

The wax museum is one of our classic scenes, though with content modified to fit each year’s theme. As this year’s theme is Merry Olde England, the museum features the first three wives of Henry VIII. I filled in last night as Catherine of Aragon, and I got a few good scares by periodically disrupting my frozen stature to beckon to the audience.

prehaunt XXII

 

It’s still running! Get tickets here.

hopping around pretending it’s spring

Here’s a squicky factoid about me: I have some issues with seasonal depression and anxiety. (Trust me, I’m squirming mightily as I write this. I don’t like talking about feelings. But it’s necessary in establishing a context for this post. And I’m consoling myself by remembering that it’s not feelings feelings, just misfiring serotonin.) I look forward to the January thaw weeks in advance. For a precious few day, I get an infusion of spring. Today it was fifty motherfucking degrees and smelled like awakening. I had me a little adventure down on the slowly thawing docks.

I’m truly sorry about the drawn-out atrocity that is this borrowed webcam. I should have my computer back by Monday. Until then, try to focus on the gist of the outfit and ignore the engorged pixels.

grey and red

grey and red II

grey and red IV

grey and red V

I’d been planning this outfit for a while. I liked the overarching theme of grey and red. All I was missing was the grey cardigan. Yesterday I found this one in the “free” box at Battery Street Jeans.

grey and red VI

grey and red VII

grey and red VIII

grey and red IX

grey and red X

grey and red XI

grey and red XII

grey and red XIII

I took pictures of my dock-hopping:

thaw V

Sometimes my city looks really bohemian. And I mean that in the literal sense. It reminds me of old Prague.

thaw XIII

thaw III

thaw VII

Half the docks were still mired in ice and half weren’t. The divide was almost exactly down the middle.

thaw VI

Motherfucking lampreys.

thaw XII

It’s a sad day indeed when my flip phone takes better outfit pictures than my webcam.

thaw XI

thaw VIII

thaw X

I want spring winds to follow me everywhere I go.

Dress & Belt: Handed down from Mom Hat: Handed down from cousin Shoes: Danform Jacket, Cardigan, & Necklace: Battery Street Jeans

~

This is my favorite warm-weather song.