New Years Cheer

I'm so excited about 2010! How round and perfect the year sounds! Sadly, no new year's party for me, my parents and I are going to watch the ball drop via our television screen, eating lots of homemade treats and sipping savignon. Have you thought about your New Year's Resolution, yet? I always formulate a list that never quite becomes reality. Well, I'll try my hardest with this one:

1. Get Straight A's on my final mark.

2. Be accepting of others, despite their flaws.

3. Never be frustrated with situations, no matter how difficult matters become.

4. Get at least a 2200 (2300 is my goal) on the SAT's

5. Be cheerful, delightful, fantastical, brilliant.

FINISH.

The Fate of the Trench.

I witnessed an act of unbridled injustice (but utter hilarity) today. My mother and I were at Nordstrom shopping for a winter coat for me (a feat I have waited for since October in order to get in on after-Christmas sales!). And as fate would have it, Nordstrom had an immense collection of coats for 33% off in the Women's Apparel! As estatic as I was, I managed to narrow it down to two delightful choices around the store (both completely, insanely amazing, and both below my budget.): a beige/ivory Michael Kors trench coat (more than 66% off its retail value!!) and a very french-like winter button-up from the teenage department en bas. After a deliberation over lunch, I decided to stick with Michael and return to purchase the trench. Digging through the racks in search for the only double-breasted MK trench on the premise, I realized, from the corner of my eye, a rather beady-eyed lady eyeing the trenches, proceeding to snatch one off the racks, and by chance it happened to be the double-breasted I lusted over! Really, now that I'm typing it, I realize just how immature and ridiculus the whole thing is, but at the time I was quite dissapointed.

I mean really, she had a ten-fold stack of coats she tried on (rather domineeringly) in the closest mirror while grasping onto the trench so hard, I swear she was drawing blood from her palm. Anyways, I was rather paitent, but like a cheetah crouching down, I was waiting until the perfect time to pouce and grab the coat. Multiple methods conjured in my mind" creating a distraction and replacing the trench with a different one of the same color, broadly asking for it back, or even allowing my mother to pretend to be a sales clerk and persuading her from buying it. Well, Mission failed when I realized she managed to swipe her credit card without a "Credit Card Declined" signal, or even some type of message from God that obstructed her objective of snagging multiple coats. (Seriously? I thought it was one coat for each winter, not one for every day of the week!).

I sighed, and realized it was time to let go. But, it certainly reminded of a movie scene in Confessions of A Shopoholic when Rebecca puts down a pair of pink Gucci boots only to find someone immediately snatched it away. Remember that? So, I gathered up whatever Rebecca Bloomwood-ness within me, praying for one more chance. Another alternative fell from the heavens, and now, I am currently awaiting the arrival of my new beige/ivory Michael Kors trench from the Nordstrom warehouse in 5-8 business days! Fantastic? I think, yes.

Such an act of savagery! (completely kidding of course...) Yes, and when I relayed my situation to my dad when I got home, the only response muttered was "That's nice, honey." before his attention diverted onto the evening news. Thank God I'm a fighter, thank God I'm a woman.

The Shapes. The Colors. The Frenzy.

Inspired by Teen Vogue December/January Edition article by Jane Keltner:

You're at a Balmain Fall 2009. Models casade down the runway in glittery, spiky, monochromatic minidresses, be sure to donned by Kate Moss and the like, along with black, killer-high ankle booties. Why yes, the artist/designer's inspiration clearly comes through the beautifully crafted garments and design. Tres rock-and-roll. Perfect for concert attire or cocktail parties or even certain winter days when black seems to be the most reasonable (warmest color of all) and stylish to pick from. But life is not just a black-and-white screen (thank god for technicolor!) and despite Little Black Dresses, I believe there should be Little Pink Dresses, Little Neon Yellow Dresses, Little Looks-Like-A-Rainbow-Threw-Up-On-You Dresses among the mix (though moderation in accessories is certainly key in the latter :]).

Papermode, my new obsession, offered me another editorial to be obsessed about: Memories of Tartam by Serge Leblon for Vogue China (Jan. 2008). The elaborate use of color and texture really inspired me to look within my closet and pick out the brightest of the bunch. Drowning in pools of neon. Perfect.

Perhaps it's because I can read bits and pieces of Chinese or just because this clothes are so unlike the street clothes of Beijing, (by which I don't really dig anyway. Too much artifical hair color, permanents, lace and "cutesy" warerobe choices) I found it inspirational. Real-life example:

Taken when I went to New York City for the summer to tour NYU and Columbia. I've always loved this lady's style. Her get-up is a little kooky, but the idea behind it is genius. I think I'm going to find some florals in my closet. Chao.

So this is it...

It's a definite holly jolly Christmas! I convinced myself to post more over the holiday, seeing that some days without any plans are instead filled with food, television, excercise, internet, and practice. Not much glamour. However, I seem to find the most interesting things on Youtube whenever I randomly search. Take this for example:

Have you ever entered a high-end store just to...look around? Because you realize that you'll never be able to, in a million years (or until a major salary increase), purchase that absolutely glamorous gala dress or, jacket, or skirt, or shoe? Once, my mother and I entered Bloomingdale's just to see if there were any irresistable sales (mind you, Bloomingdale's may not be Barney's, or Bergdorf, or Neiman Marcus, but it can be as enthralling just the same), hoping to maybe strike gold. We somehow wandered upstairs into the Women's Department, where Dior, Marc Jacobs, and Chanel roamed beyond the escalator. There, in the little slice of a section dedicated to Michael Kors lay one of the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen. A LBD with white lining and gold buttons. It was...fascinating. But also $2000. Thus, I had to leave the beloved dress on the hanger.

So imagine my surprise when I typed in "Elle fashion" into the beloved Youtube searchbar and discovered the work of Elle Muliarchyk, model (discovered by Patrick Demarchelier, after all) and an incredible photographer beyond words. She sneakily hides a tripod stand, camera, props into her large canvas bag and starts work. Her medium, inspiration, as she dives into another world, a dream land where expensive designer garments can be just within reach. The means? She ducks under the watchful eye of employees at couture shops, and take photos of her in gorgeous outfits in fitting rooms!

 All this amidst crammed backgrounds! Amazing.

C'est la video.

Her collaboration with Bella Freud (Sigmund Freud's great-granddaughter)

Presently indulging in Carvel ice-cream cake. Enjoy lots of meat and carbs ( I know I am!),

R.

Merry Christmas.

Galeries Lafayette at Christmas

Christmas Eve, nighttime. My favourite time of the season. My family and I are going to a traditional grill (open 24/7- for late-nighters and the such!) tonight to celebrate.Then tomorrow, we're going to catch a movie (a tradition) and meet up at a friend's house for a get-together, full of chit-chat and delightful conversations.

Have a very merry Christmas. Let us celebrate Christ's birth and the joys of companionship. :)

Hello Steve Madden. I Love You.

Like any ordinary snow day, I found myself completely bored out of my mind. So, I decided to do the next best thing: I went shoe browsing.
Yes, notice I said shoe browsing instead of shoe shopping. I am, as of now, extremely broke, meaning broke. What a sob story...but then I digress.

Tried on some red pumps from Guess first. I liked them, but I didn't love them.

Then I saw Michael Kors. Oh my...amazingg

And then of course, I spotted these Steve Madden Luxe booties that I've been lusting over for months and months and never had the heart (or cash) to buy :(

Then I saw these other Steve Maddens. AHHH

And these Chanel-esque flats.

I love you, Steve Madden.

Come back.

I was reading Cold Mountain this morning. And Ada's phrase popped out. "Come back to me, is my request." How powerful. Even more so when written by her. I decided jot something down at 10 in the night (like I have anything better to do, like sleeping). Even so, such inspiration has let me write my own situation. A little dark, like Poe's work. But I cannot mask it in literature. It would be a travesty.

I see silence.

Silence that spreads along the cold, white-washed walls, unnoticeable
At first, like a thin coat of Vaseline.


Then, as expected, its spikes pierce through the ice concrete.
Slimy, Greasy, and Ugly.
Unmistakably there. Proud. Dripping with red blood.
I cannot bear to uphold a neutral façade, while my veins turn black and molten.


But, I know I have to.

I watch you like I’ve watched a million paintings.
Muted, at first. Latched onto its sleeves, a bold crescendo of infatuation.
I feel pricks on my skin, and joy, and provocation.


Just like that one time when I saw Monet, a still-life through misty eyes.
Harsh silence falls through the cracks,
Packing salt onto my unhealed injuries.
I cry. Like I have cried a million times before.
And I realize I never can compare.


I am like Van Gogh. Thick paint across my soul.
Our names may mangle in sloughs of meaningless words,
But thick moments rip us apart.
Come back to me. Come back to me, is my request.

I don't even know if this is even worth thinking about. But writing it just brought a new wave of emotions. Honestly, I don't know if I even feel better. I know I'm supposed to. But, I don't.

Peace out, boy-scout.
R.

Snowed In.

Okay, so apparently that rumor going around like the entire metropolitan area was true. Saturday = massive snow day. Like beyond normal heaps of snow. In fact, I think it has snowed for 24 hours without stopping. Which means a perfect day has flown by without me so much as licking the sprinkles on top. Kind of depressing in that aspect as well as my loss of excitement for snow. Remember those childhood moments when you'd pray and pray to the Lord Almighty for snow? Then turn your pj's inside out, flush ice cubes down the toilet and put a snow under your pillow? Well, I followed those orders religiously, hoping for a glimpse of a snow day come every winter. Now that I'm grown (kinda), I feel no more of that glorious rush of adrenaline for the moment I turn on the TV or computer in hopes of the county to please please cancel school for the day (though it is the weekend) and no more need to go sledding down the biggest, most gargantuan, ginormous ginormous hill (partly because when I did go outside, the snow covered up to my boots, causing my every step to seem like climbing Mt. Everest).

I spent the majority of the day catching up on APUS or pigging out on holiday cookies/ramen in these socks.

                                                 Beyond insane height of snow...

I mean really, my deck was completely destroyed.

Oh well, might as well take in the beauty and silence of snowfall. My yard as of now can only be described as a blank, white canvas. Season's Greetings.

Letter to My Daughter.

So, I was browsing the library after school one afternoon (by the urgency of my mother to "furiously increase my reading load") and I think I found the perfect pick-me-up/inspirational slough of words for my recent condition (somewhat down due to recent events I'd prefer to divert from my mind). Letter to My Daughter by Maya Angelou should be on a required reading list for all girls.

I've read some of Angelou's poems before, and have always found them fascinating; but through this such intimate and descriptive autobiography, she addresses to young women today to stand, to be powerful, and to take control. Contol of your life, your surroundings, and your dreams. Chapter-by-chapter narrations are snapshots of her child, adolescence, and adulthood, dissected, analyzed and layered into one, producing a harmonious and cohensive piece of literature meant to be savored like red wine. Here's an excerpt I especially enjoyed:

"Let's tell the truth to the people. When people ask, 'How are you,' have the nerve sometimes to answer truthfully. You must know however, that people will start avoiding you because they too have knees that pain them and heads which hurt and they don't want to know about yours. But think of it this way, if people avoid you, you will have more time to meditate and do fine research on a cure for whatever truly afflicts you"(38).

Talk about Chicken Noodle Soup for the Soul. Wowzah. When I read excerpts such as these, I wonder to myself: how in the world can one human being be so genius? So fluid in her words, yet inspire so much vigor? I guess that's just the magic of Maya Angelou. She conjures up concoctions to soothe the soul and heal the wounds.

On a much less analytical note: I've finished my french project! We're doing a unit on fashion, and were each given an option of doing a fashion show or display board. I chose the latter. Je suis tout raplapla, mais, j'ai fine! Alors, Voila, c'est mon projet:

My inspiration board, with cut-outs of the historic Chanel fashion show, model Agyness Deyn, as well as bloggers that completely inspire me whenever i'm in a rut (Tavi, Susie, Jane...just to name a few).

The front. How insane is that Christopher Kane dress in the bottom left hand corner?! I saw it a few months back, and I was like WOAH. That banshee/idk looks beyond 3-D through the design of the dress.

je regrette, but I had to put the McQueen shoes up. Except for the fact that my printer is totally spitting out random colours under the sun except the original, I'd say I'm pleased.

You know those pictures people take of only their eye? Well, I decided to join the bandwagon while waiting for dinnertime. Except, the people who actually take these photos have amazingly beautiful eyes with specks of gold floating in pools of aquamarine. Well, I lack that quality, but, it's okay. Pretty sure I'll live :].

Also, I've learned to love my earrings. I know they're extremely plain, and right after I got them, I had a "wtf, why did I buy them?" moment. But after a while, these gold dots produce an almost vintage effect (and you know I love vintage). Thus, I think they'll stay around for a while.

My favourite dress.

Drew Barrymore at The 2009 Golden Globes wearing Christian Dior, perhaps channeling the gorgeous Marilyn Monroe? I remember watching the Globes and having my breathe taken away by this garment. I've never seen anything like this. It almost looks incomplete, with its raw sewing, but so graceful it should belong in a fairytale. Without a doubt, my favourite dress on the carpet as well as off.

(via justjared)

Christian Dior will always be my favourite designer. Innovative, (with John Galliano in charge, after all) yet classic, like his first showings to roomfuls of women. I remember way back, when I was about 12, just scouring the Dior website in my spare time, almost with child-on-Christmas-Day delight:

Marion Cotillard for Dior

The cutest ad that makes me want to sail off to Paris again...

The Dior Gaucho- obsessed with this bag when I was in 7th grade. I promised that when I did grow up, I would buy exactly this in a metallic wash- don't know if all that's true now, but it's still okay to dream.

Deck the Halls.

Just finished Christmas shopping...so fortunate I even made it alive. However, there were some really neat deals that I managed to "exploit" on...now it's up to the critics (friends & family) to rate my gift-giving skills.

Not as bad- but extremely heavy by the end of the day.

Feeling the full swing of Christmas...cannot wait.

Presently, I am composing letters/cards. And with the continual dipping into the ink pot, I feel like I'm writing with a quill, and thus, should belong in Hogwarts or something. The finger stains are well worth it.

MY (UN)OFFICIAL X-MAS LIST:

Forever 21:
1. Vintage-y headband for those lazy days.

       2. A statement necklace for every glamorous night.

3. Chunky rings, accessorable for the everyday.

4.Sequined, fingerless gloves that sparkle amidst dark winter mornings.




5. Whimsical, fun and totally unique scarfs.
6. Soft wrap to protect from cold fronts.

                             Urban Outfitters:

                                   1. Poncho to exhibit my inner tribal self

          

       2. Philosophy Recipe Box- baking delicious treats throughout the Christmas break

3. Alien mittens to possibly perform puppet shows for my own delight-and looking like a total loser doing it.

4. Pretending to be urban chic while still listening to Jonas Brothers.                                                                                                    

                                                                         Hollister & Co:

         1. Very candy-cane striper, thus perfect for the holidays

2. Hooded Scarf- a hoodie but not. Completely adorable

3. Sipping eggnog while marveling at the Christmas tree in a comfy button-down.