Monday, April 30, 2012
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Happy Easter kind of.
Just a quick 'holiday' post for your viewing pleasure. Never mind what I said in my previous post, this one is not going to be about hair and skin care at an affordable cost.
I am hella lazy.
Instead, I would like to share with you my newest obsession: Pastel Hair. Do I DARE D.I.Y. this shit (ew I just said D.I.Y.)?
Kind of like an easter egg coloring kit threw up all over one's luscious locks. Radical. I want therefore I need.
Also, these chicks are hella hot:
Another also (while it's on my mind), I would like to give a HUGE thanks to practically every blogger out there for raping the shit out of the grand explosion of D.I.Y. studded and tie‐dyed shorts. Yeah. I won't be planning on doing that to my shorts anymore. Two words: Trend Overkill.
I'm in a sassy mood today.
(All photos were taken from google images, pinterest, oliviaemily.com, and anti‐fashionista.tumblr.com.)
I am hella lazy.
Instead, I would like to share with you my newest obsession: Pastel Hair. Do I DARE D.I.Y. this shit (ew I just said D.I.Y.)?
Kind of like an easter egg coloring kit threw up all over one's luscious locks. Radical. I want therefore I need. Also, these chicks are hella hot:
Another also (while it's on my mind), I would like to give a HUGE thanks to practically every blogger out there for raping the shit out of the grand explosion of D.I.Y. studded and tie‐dyed shorts. Yeah. I won't be planning on doing that to my shorts anymore. Two words: Trend Overkill. I'm in a sassy mood today.
(All photos were taken from google images, pinterest, oliviaemily.com, and anti‐fashionista.tumblr.com.)
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Tomboy Chic.
Let's just dive right in:
Growing up I was taught to believe that being a girl and looking pretty meant you had to follow the basic societal norms of style. If you wanted to be a 'pretty' girl, you had to wear 'pretty' things. Pretty shoes, pretty jewelry, pretty blouses, pretty tights, pretty sweaters, pretty coats, pretty pants, pretty hair, pretty nails, prettyprettypretty. Pretty always meant pastel, or floral, or tailored, anything not resembling or reflecting something a boy would wear, and of course, pretty ALWAYS meant 'matching' (GROSS).
I don't know about the rest of you, but I grew up in a conservative household, and therefore my self expression was always stifled by 'that's not what we do or say, and that is most certainly not what we wear.' All I ever wanted was to wear blue jeans, two different colored shoes, and put my hair in pigtails (sound familiar?) every.single.day. And while I was sometimes allowed to do this, more often than not I was the subject of 'I can dress my daughter cuter than your daughter' syndrome, which resulted in LOTS of dresses, LOTS of matching outfits, LOTS of ribbon, and LOTS AND LOTS of hair brushing. Ouch!
A psych 101 student could probably dissect this post (and get a C, because she'd only be half right), as some sort of allusive peek into the resentment of my childhood, but really, I was fed, clothed (obviously), and most importantly, loved. My mother and I just really, REALLY didn't see eye to eye on fashion, even when I was 6 years old.
That being said, growing up with a very feminine mother, and me being somewhere in between, I have found a happy medium in my love for all things girly and all things tough. I like to pair pastels with black, florals with rips and holes, skirts with combat boots or sneakers, ripped jeans or shorts with cute oxfords or flats, and (gasp), I'll even throw in some heels every now and then (only if there's an edge in there somewhere).
And as I think I stated in my previous post, I have been so.fucking.BORED. with almost EVERYTHING I've been seeing popping up in the world of fashion. Magazines, runways, the internet, etc. It's all the same girly shit with no backbone. I mean, I am a girly girl, through and through, but I have to have some sort of edge reflected in my style. Because while I am small and have a soft spoken voice, my personality is nothing of the sort. Therefore you will not catch me in boating shoes and pastel shorts unless there is a studded leather jacket and some sort of rip somewhere in the equation.
Refreshingly enough, there are some fashionistas floating around the internet right now that I deeply admire. They can make an oversized sweater or tee‐shirt look like an evening gown, or black leather leggings and combat boots seem as tailored as a classic tuxedo. They are amazing artists, and I truly admire their bold stance to not follow what is overwhelmingly 'current.' Sure, they have their own cult following, but only because they are amazingly and effortlessly different.
Check em out:
Lua P.:
Kayla Hadlington:
Last but not least, Olivia Harrison (I've posted about her before, she is my absolute favorite, she is perfection in everything she wears):
(photos 1 and 2 taken from http://lookbook.nu/luanna, photos 3, 4, and 5 taken from http://lookbook.nu/kaylahadlington, and photos 6, 7, 8, and 9 taken from http://lookbook.nu/oliviaharrison.)
Following the fashion trend of 'pretty girl meets tough chick = hot chick ' in the previous photos, I'd like to add my own outfit to the mix, lovingly borrowing from all of the outfits seen above, and sported at my engagement party that took place in late January (sorry, only the clothes are pictured, not me... I don't feel like digging out my tripod buried in the hall closet, nor changing my VERY comfortable jeans and tee‐shirt to pose for the blog after a 10 hour work day):
Sweater: Thrifted, Urban Ore.
Skirt: (Actually a dress), Forever 21, hella years ago.
Shoes: Vans Hi‐Top Skate, Vans Shoe Store.
Black Patterned Tights: Target.
Bangles: Thrifted, Urban Ore.
Belt: Imported from London, hella years ago.
Notice anything? The shoes!!! If you read my previous post, you would know that I have been longing for a pair of hi‐top skate checkered vans for awhile now. I opted for the black and grey pattern since the combo is very versatile, and I can always change the laces if I feel the need for a pop of color. (I also dyed my hair the deep burgundy color showcased in my last post, while leaving in some fun bleach panels in the bang and nape area.. but I will talk more about THAT in my next post, which will be all about hair and skin care at an affordable cost... stay tuned!)
Anyway, I guess my point in all of this is, you don't have to wear pastel petal skirts and pumps to look pretty, you don't have to wear oxfords with tailored pants and button up blouses to be proper, you don't have to wear itsy bitsy sequined mini dresses and 6 inch heels to be hot, and I hope you already know (but may I remind you) that you certainly don't have to be a guy to be tough. All you have to do, is be yourself... for to be yourself is to love yourself, and I love you all. :)
Growing up I was taught to believe that being a girl and looking pretty meant you had to follow the basic societal norms of style. If you wanted to be a 'pretty' girl, you had to wear 'pretty' things. Pretty shoes, pretty jewelry, pretty blouses, pretty tights, pretty sweaters, pretty coats, pretty pants, pretty hair, pretty nails, prettyprettypretty. Pretty always meant pastel, or floral, or tailored, anything not resembling or reflecting something a boy would wear, and of course, pretty ALWAYS meant 'matching' (GROSS).
I don't know about the rest of you, but I grew up in a conservative household, and therefore my self expression was always stifled by 'that's not what we do or say, and that is most certainly not what we wear.' All I ever wanted was to wear blue jeans, two different colored shoes, and put my hair in pigtails (sound familiar?) every.single.day. And while I was sometimes allowed to do this, more often than not I was the subject of 'I can dress my daughter cuter than your daughter' syndrome, which resulted in LOTS of dresses, LOTS of matching outfits, LOTS of ribbon, and LOTS AND LOTS of hair brushing. Ouch!
A psych 101 student could probably dissect this post (and get a C, because she'd only be half right), as some sort of allusive peek into the resentment of my childhood, but really, I was fed, clothed (obviously), and most importantly, loved. My mother and I just really, REALLY didn't see eye to eye on fashion, even when I was 6 years old.
That being said, growing up with a very feminine mother, and me being somewhere in between, I have found a happy medium in my love for all things girly and all things tough. I like to pair pastels with black, florals with rips and holes, skirts with combat boots or sneakers, ripped jeans or shorts with cute oxfords or flats, and (gasp), I'll even throw in some heels every now and then (only if there's an edge in there somewhere).
And as I think I stated in my previous post, I have been so.fucking.BORED. with almost EVERYTHING I've been seeing popping up in the world of fashion. Magazines, runways, the internet, etc. It's all the same girly shit with no backbone. I mean, I am a girly girl, through and through, but I have to have some sort of edge reflected in my style. Because while I am small and have a soft spoken voice, my personality is nothing of the sort. Therefore you will not catch me in boating shoes and pastel shorts unless there is a studded leather jacket and some sort of rip somewhere in the equation.
Refreshingly enough, there are some fashionistas floating around the internet right now that I deeply admire. They can make an oversized sweater or tee‐shirt look like an evening gown, or black leather leggings and combat boots seem as tailored as a classic tuxedo. They are amazing artists, and I truly admire their bold stance to not follow what is overwhelmingly 'current.' Sure, they have their own cult following, but only because they are amazingly and effortlessly different.
Check em out:
Lua P.:
Kayla Hadlington:
Last but not least, Olivia Harrison (I've posted about her before, she is my absolute favorite, she is perfection in everything she wears):
(photos 1 and 2 taken from http://lookbook.nu/luanna, photos 3, 4, and 5 taken from http://lookbook.nu/kaylahadlington, and photos 6, 7, 8, and 9 taken from http://lookbook.nu/oliviaharrison.)
Following the fashion trend of 'pretty girl meets tough chick = hot chick ' in the previous photos, I'd like to add my own outfit to the mix, lovingly borrowing from all of the outfits seen above, and sported at my engagement party that took place in late January (sorry, only the clothes are pictured, not me... I don't feel like digging out my tripod buried in the hall closet, nor changing my VERY comfortable jeans and tee‐shirt to pose for the blog after a 10 hour work day):
Sweater: Thrifted, Urban Ore.
Skirt: (Actually a dress), Forever 21, hella years ago.
Shoes: Vans Hi‐Top Skate, Vans Shoe Store.
Black Patterned Tights: Target.
Bangles: Thrifted, Urban Ore.
Belt: Imported from London, hella years ago.
Notice anything? The shoes!!! If you read my previous post, you would know that I have been longing for a pair of hi‐top skate checkered vans for awhile now. I opted for the black and grey pattern since the combo is very versatile, and I can always change the laces if I feel the need for a pop of color. (I also dyed my hair the deep burgundy color showcased in my last post, while leaving in some fun bleach panels in the bang and nape area.. but I will talk more about THAT in my next post, which will be all about hair and skin care at an affordable cost... stay tuned!)
Anyway, I guess my point in all of this is, you don't have to wear pastel petal skirts and pumps to look pretty, you don't have to wear oxfords with tailored pants and button up blouses to be proper, you don't have to wear itsy bitsy sequined mini dresses and 6 inch heels to be hot, and I hope you already know (but may I remind you) that you certainly don't have to be a guy to be tough. All you have to do, is be yourself... for to be yourself is to love yourself, and I love you all. :)
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Happy New Year, call me Frenchy (brace yourselves, this is a long one).
But my real name is Susanna and I am (proud to be) a beauty school dropout. 'GASP! OH MY GOD! WHY?? BUT I THOUGHT YOU LOVED IT?!' I hated it. I really, truly, loathed it. I can explain, so let's get serious for a moment:
At 29 years old, with no college degree and no long term career goal, late night existential conversations over wine and too much time, daytime anxiety attacks and abrupt emotional fits, I came to a standstill. I had to do something. Anything. I had to be 'someone'. Because being me simply wasn't enough. My full time job as a barista that was paying my bills, paying off debt, and saving money to live comfortably simply wasn't enough. Being in the most stable place I have been in what seems to be my entire life, simply wasn't enough. Never mind that the days I wasn't working were spent with the love of my life, laughing and living. Never mind that I had a home, a beautiful little roof over my head with two precious animals, brother and sister kitties who love us just as much as they love each other. Never mind that I actually had the time to focus on myself, the elements of life that made me the most happy.
It wasn't enough (or was it?).
Throughout my life I have been taught that I have to go to school, get a degree, get a career, and let that career define me. Since I didn't finish my art history degree and was a mere barista at a local coffee shop, I wasn't a person. At least, a valid person. My late night reflections on my life, and really life in general, provoked me to dig deep into the black of my 'incomplete' self in order to figure something out, anything, that might make me feel like I could actually take baby steps towards the road to a complete self. The road to success. And so it goes:
Hair.
I have always had a knack, talent, if you will, for making hair, anyone's hair, look awesome. And since one can't go to the school of writing, or painting, or fashion (all things I love) for a year and three months with the promise of a paying job afterward, I decided cosmetology school was my ticket to all things coveted: money, success, stability, a fucking backyard. With a garden, of course.
Fast Forward.
Cosmetology school was taking over my life. I felt as though I was immersed in a factory for 10 hours on a given day with an invisible drill sergeant screaming in my ear 'do hair! do hair!! do hair!!!' It wasn't fun. It was tedious and stressful, and the worst part, I had no time to myself, for myself, or my family. The only thing that carried me through each day were the amazing, beautiful group of girls I befriended. And I guess one could say that it would only be a year or so out of my life of having to deal with such pressure in order to be successful, but turns out, I didn't like doing other people's hair, I started to question if I wanted it as my lifelong profession, and really, wasn't I already successful to begin with?
I learn by trying. I tried, and it wasn't for me. If I am a starving artist for the rest of my life, so be it. I'd rather be happy and poor than rich and miserable.
That being said, going to beauty school for even a brief time was the therapy I needed to be fully comfortable in my own skin. I am me. Not what society says I should be. This may not be the case for everyone. Some of you love school, your career, the hard work you have put in to becoming who you are today, or who you are going to become, and that is totally rad. As for me, I am quite content living life, focusing on my own personal interests, and being with the ones I love the most. There is no promise of tomorrow. And I am so grateful for what I have today.
Moving on.
What did you do for New Year's Eve? More importantly, what did you wear? Lately I have been on the more tomboy side of fashion, but I decided to shed my Chuck Taylors, skinny jeans, and oversized tee‐shirts for New Year's Eve and doll myself up (because, after all, it would be the last New Year's Eve of my 20's... *crycrycry*). I was also kinda tired of NOT dressing up, because I really can create a super sick outfit if I want. I guess I just got kinda burnt out by copy‐cats and the superficial world of fashion (always trying to 'one‐up' the next person, etc.). Plus I have been kinda unimpressed with everything lately. There are one or two budding fashion icons on the internet that I look to for inspiration these days, but everything else just leaves me feeling 'bleh.'
But not on New Year's Eve! I was determined to get out of my cynicism and rock it. Without spending a dime.
After staring into my closet for what seemed like hours I finally came up with a floral high‐waisted skirt, a lace form fitting top (that I would disguise as a bodysuit), a black cloche hat, black patterned tights, a belt that I transformed into a choker, a hefty stack of bangles, and a pair of sessy teal green pumps I have probably worn all of two times before, and of course, for the cooler outside climate, my beloved jean jacket (I've had said jacket for over 3 years, and refuse to part with it until it's very last thread). All of these things were just chillin in my closet. Some I wear quite often, others hardly at all. But that night, they all came together to form the outfit that I also like to call 'Clarissa Explains It All In Heels'. Haha.
Here ya go:
Not really sure why I couldn't have smiled at least a little bit here, but this was the best photo I could get. I was in a rush that evening and didn't really have time to pose a hundred different ways or get the camera to focus perfectly.
Here's a close‐up of the accessories you couldn't really see in the photo or that were not visible altogether:
Details:
Black Cloche Hat: Bought at some hat store in Hollywood. Can't remember the name.
Choker: Actually a belt, can't remember where I bought it... online maybe?
Black Lace Blouse: 'Clausen House Thrift Shop' on Telegraph Ave. in Oakland.
Floral High‐Waisted Skirt: Crossroads Trading CO.
Tights: Target.
Teel Green Heels: Goodwill.
Black Patent Leather Clutch: Goodwill.
(Note: None of these items were specifically bought for New Year's Eve. And sorry, no sequined/metallic/drag queen mini‐dresses or booty shorts for me.)
Anyway, when all was said and done, my night was a blast. And although it was the first time wearing heels in what seems like a year (I used to wear them AAAALLLL the time... but now I ride a bike AAAALLLL the time.. and really just don't care as much) I did a damn good job at not falling on my ass. More importantly, not *looking* like I was going to fall on my ass. Yup, I still got it.
Alright folks, it's been a long one. But before I leave you, let me share with you a few things I have my eye on for the new year, some of them being trends from my past that I'd like to revisit on a regular basis, and some of them being specifically for the first few winter months:
Hi‐top Vans:
Creepers:
Lace ankle socks:
Chokers:
Dark lipstick/gloss/stain/whatever:
Burgundy Hair:
Yup. Somewhat gothic inspired and totally diggin it. Anyway, I apologize for the lenghty post, but I think it was kind of needed, in the efforts to make myself clear while also bringing in the new year. And what with my newfound freedom, you'll once again be hearing a lot more boom from the Dynamite. So there you have it, Happy New Year. May you find joy and happiness in your everyday, and remember that love and laughter are our true successes in life. Cheers!
(all photos with the exception of #1 and #2 were taken from google images. no copyright infringement intended.)
At 29 years old, with no college degree and no long term career goal, late night existential conversations over wine and too much time, daytime anxiety attacks and abrupt emotional fits, I came to a standstill. I had to do something. Anything. I had to be 'someone'. Because being me simply wasn't enough. My full time job as a barista that was paying my bills, paying off debt, and saving money to live comfortably simply wasn't enough. Being in the most stable place I have been in what seems to be my entire life, simply wasn't enough. Never mind that the days I wasn't working were spent with the love of my life, laughing and living. Never mind that I had a home, a beautiful little roof over my head with two precious animals, brother and sister kitties who love us just as much as they love each other. Never mind that I actually had the time to focus on myself, the elements of life that made me the most happy.
It wasn't enough (or was it?).
Throughout my life I have been taught that I have to go to school, get a degree, get a career, and let that career define me. Since I didn't finish my art history degree and was a mere barista at a local coffee shop, I wasn't a person. At least, a valid person. My late night reflections on my life, and really life in general, provoked me to dig deep into the black of my 'incomplete' self in order to figure something out, anything, that might make me feel like I could actually take baby steps towards the road to a complete self. The road to success. And so it goes:
Hair.
I have always had a knack, talent, if you will, for making hair, anyone's hair, look awesome. And since one can't go to the school of writing, or painting, or fashion (all things I love) for a year and three months with the promise of a paying job afterward, I decided cosmetology school was my ticket to all things coveted: money, success, stability, a fucking backyard. With a garden, of course.
Fast Forward.
Cosmetology school was taking over my life. I felt as though I was immersed in a factory for 10 hours on a given day with an invisible drill sergeant screaming in my ear 'do hair! do hair!! do hair!!!' It wasn't fun. It was tedious and stressful, and the worst part, I had no time to myself, for myself, or my family. The only thing that carried me through each day were the amazing, beautiful group of girls I befriended. And I guess one could say that it would only be a year or so out of my life of having to deal with such pressure in order to be successful, but turns out, I didn't like doing other people's hair, I started to question if I wanted it as my lifelong profession, and really, wasn't I already successful to begin with?
I learn by trying. I tried, and it wasn't for me. If I am a starving artist for the rest of my life, so be it. I'd rather be happy and poor than rich and miserable.
That being said, going to beauty school for even a brief time was the therapy I needed to be fully comfortable in my own skin. I am me. Not what society says I should be. This may not be the case for everyone. Some of you love school, your career, the hard work you have put in to becoming who you are today, or who you are going to become, and that is totally rad. As for me, I am quite content living life, focusing on my own personal interests, and being with the ones I love the most. There is no promise of tomorrow. And I am so grateful for what I have today.
Moving on.
What did you do for New Year's Eve? More importantly, what did you wear? Lately I have been on the more tomboy side of fashion, but I decided to shed my Chuck Taylors, skinny jeans, and oversized tee‐shirts for New Year's Eve and doll myself up (because, after all, it would be the last New Year's Eve of my 20's... *crycrycry*). I was also kinda tired of NOT dressing up, because I really can create a super sick outfit if I want. I guess I just got kinda burnt out by copy‐cats and the superficial world of fashion (always trying to 'one‐up' the next person, etc.). Plus I have been kinda unimpressed with everything lately. There are one or two budding fashion icons on the internet that I look to for inspiration these days, but everything else just leaves me feeling 'bleh.'
But not on New Year's Eve! I was determined to get out of my cynicism and rock it. Without spending a dime.
After staring into my closet for what seemed like hours I finally came up with a floral high‐waisted skirt, a lace form fitting top (that I would disguise as a bodysuit), a black cloche hat, black patterned tights, a belt that I transformed into a choker, a hefty stack of bangles, and a pair of sessy teal green pumps I have probably worn all of two times before, and of course, for the cooler outside climate, my beloved jean jacket (I've had said jacket for over 3 years, and refuse to part with it until it's very last thread). All of these things were just chillin in my closet. Some I wear quite often, others hardly at all. But that night, they all came together to form the outfit that I also like to call 'Clarissa Explains It All In Heels'. Haha.
Here ya go:
Not really sure why I couldn't have smiled at least a little bit here, but this was the best photo I could get. I was in a rush that evening and didn't really have time to pose a hundred different ways or get the camera to focus perfectly.
Here's a close‐up of the accessories you couldn't really see in the photo or that were not visible altogether:
Details:
Black Cloche Hat: Bought at some hat store in Hollywood. Can't remember the name.
Choker: Actually a belt, can't remember where I bought it... online maybe?
Black Lace Blouse: 'Clausen House Thrift Shop' on Telegraph Ave. in Oakland.
Floral High‐Waisted Skirt: Crossroads Trading CO.
Tights: Target.
Teel Green Heels: Goodwill.
Black Patent Leather Clutch: Goodwill.
(Note: None of these items were specifically bought for New Year's Eve. And sorry, no sequined/metallic/drag queen mini‐dresses or booty shorts for me.)
Anyway, when all was said and done, my night was a blast. And although it was the first time wearing heels in what seems like a year (I used to wear them AAAALLLL the time... but now I ride a bike AAAALLLL the time.. and really just don't care as much) I did a damn good job at not falling on my ass. More importantly, not *looking* like I was going to fall on my ass. Yup, I still got it.
Alright folks, it's been a long one. But before I leave you, let me share with you a few things I have my eye on for the new year, some of them being trends from my past that I'd like to revisit on a regular basis, and some of them being specifically for the first few winter months:
Hi‐top Vans:
Creepers:
Lace ankle socks:
Chokers:
Dark lipstick/gloss/stain/whatever:
Burgundy Hair:
Yup. Somewhat gothic inspired and totally diggin it. Anyway, I apologize for the lenghty post, but I think it was kind of needed, in the efforts to make myself clear while also bringing in the new year. And what with my newfound freedom, you'll once again be hearing a lot more boom from the Dynamite. So there you have it, Happy New Year. May you find joy and happiness in your everyday, and remember that love and laughter are our true successes in life. Cheers!
(all photos with the exception of #1 and #2 were taken from google images. no copyright infringement intended.)
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