The moment I fixed yesterday’s I Hate Sundays outfit. Tree-stump-leg jeans gone, pattern on pattern with German (I think it’s German) sweater, and Born boots tying the orange tones together.
Necklace: Giant fly in a bottle from NMSU Jewelry Sale
Top: Miss Sixty from ThredUp
Sweater: German, wool, heavy, gorgeous and itchy, from La Tienda de Jardin.
Here’s most of February in the ongoing, Artful Blasphemy Paper Doll plan….
This outfit was actually okayish, except anytime Artful Blasphemy sees her legs in jeans there is a sense of tree stumpishness. Also, I changed this up later and made it MUCH better.
Shrug: no label–a gift from my late best friend, Luray, in 2006 or 2007.
Tunic/Dress: Miss Sixty, via ThredUp
Jeans: Boden, also via ThredUp
Rieker booties. Meh.
My best friend and her then 5-year-old daughter were murdered by her husband in 2007, and he subsequently took his own life. I made a lot of art over the next two years as I processed this horrific and traumatizing event. I only did one piece that directly reflected on the loss of Ruby, as it was hard to even contemplate. I had a child her age, so I knew what moments were being missed every day.
This piece, Cut Off, addresses the notion of an innocent child who doesn’t know or understand why, or what has happened, and is simply cut off from their future. All hopes and dreams suspended.
Cut Off, 2009, Colored Pencil and Marker on Bristol and Board. NFS.
Artful Blasphemy is trying the hard to understand All Saints top again…it fits oddly, has a bizarre facing that won’t stay put, but I’m trying, I really am….
Sweater: Charlotte Russe, among the warm but itchy like Satan sweater collection, which is why there is a shirt under the All Saints.
All Saints top, found at Savers, hard to wear/understand
Express ribbed navy blue leggings from ThredUP
J Crew Necklace
More relaxed layers….
Sweater: From my mother, MOTH–it has a mermaid-y sparkly quality that is quite nice
Knit Top: Newport News
Cashmere & Angora skirt: Also Newport News, purchased secondhand at La Tienda de Jardin–it has since been consigned to the felting pile, as it’s just never really cold enough for a cashmere skirt in Southern New Mexico. Also, it shed like a dog.
Cozy Layers for a snowy holiday break….The tonal values really elongate my figure and even it out—although this is casual it’s also quite flattering.
Shawl ‘round my neck: A gift from a friend who traveled to India
Sweater: Miss Morena via Satan
Dress: Capella Apparel from Choxi
Fleece-lined leggings also from Choxi
I am reading a 1000-page nonfiction book (Far From the Tree) and while it is riveting, I needed a little something to slip in there to keep things lively. Or to keep my quota up. Anyway….I chose The Diver’s Clothes Lie Empty by Vendela Vida.
Vida chooses to write this in second person, which is, to me, the hardest voice to manage, as it can feel very awkward. Second person tends to create some distance for me, in that I feel as if I have put the body of the protagonist on like a mask, so while I am seeing things as I am her, I am also aware that I am not “you” to whom the book is speaking, and I am aware of the layer between me and the world of the novel. That said, the use of second person also works well in terms of keeping surprises hidden, as the reader only ever has as much information as the character is willing to share. It is a hypnotic style that allows the reader to be carried along with the main character and adds to the sense of unreality she experiences as she shifts identities.
One could say that this book is about a deeply disturbed woman who chooses to abandon all responsibility and ejects from any situation before appropriate consequences are leveled, but that would be somewhat disingenuous and too literal an interpretation. The core of the story is an examination, through the device of a traveler losing their passport and other identifying items, of what might happen when a person is cut loose from what used to be the moorings of their life. As the character’s prior identities are stripped away, her sense of connection to events diminishes, and she seemingly accepts the notion that who or what she really is, as a person, is flexible and impermanent. This is a deeply disturbing notion for most of us, who rely on our core identification of self as the load-bearing structure of the rest of our reality. If I am not who I believe I am, then what happens to everything else that I have so carefully arranged around that belief?
Fascinating, hypnotic, not too long–overall a quite interesting book if you are able to confront and examine why it makes you uncomfortable and see that process as an exercise the story was designed to provoke. 4 stars.
Artful Blasphemy is still clearly on the Holiday Break, given how relaxed I appear…
Sweater: Very vintage metallic and wool. It has a matching skirt that pushes it into very formal (and extremely warm). From the 60s or 70s, tags read Bonwit Teller Fredericks Sport. Uber Glam.
Throwing in vintage pieces is a big part of what keeps Artful Blasphemy’s style unique; no one else has that piece except me, which keeps things fresh and interesting. Many people reject vintage as being expensive, which it can be, or imperfect.
Most of my vintage was acquired at yard and estate sales, or in local thrifts that don’t know (or necessarily care) what vintage might be worth on Ebay or Etsy. I don’t pay top dollar for vintage, ever, because let’s face it—we are all going to drown in clothes someday.
As far as imperfect goes, well, nothing is perfect. Vintage clothes have history and a missing button or minor imperfection is part of that history. For example, I have a coat from the 1890s. Yes. It’s over 100 years old. It has some moth damage to the coat, and a lady once said to me, disparagingly, “It’s too bad that had damage,” to which I replied, “I doubt you will look this good at over 100 years old, so I’m okay with it.” People who are looking for flaws will find them, and frankly you and I? We don’t need them in our lives.
Top: American Eagle
Skirt: Cabi, from Buffalo Exchange. Artful Blasphemy loves everything about it except that it gets wretchedly staticky.
I Hate Sundays: Artful Blasphemy *almost* loves this, if it weren’t for the color of the sleeves of the tee I’m wearing underneath the itchy-as-all-get-out boiled wool sweater.
This was definitely a risky ensemble, and I wanted to play up the graffito (there is another word I am looking for here, but I can’t find it) theme of sweater and skirt….I’d say it was 80% successful.
Sweater: Sleeping on Snow
Skirt: MeJane, thrifted from La Tienda de Jardin