Sophia Loren photographed by David Seymour, 1954
Look at that top. Look at the fish-net stockings. She looks so effortlessly classy, anyone can tell that the outfit is hard to wear. She makes it look elegant and fun at the same time. Posture, pose and presence. Sigh..
Remember to dance,
when you are feeling sad - to shake it out,
when you are feeling glad - to make your heart speak out!
I changed my theme and customized it. Check it out HERE
This is crazy fun. I had a lovely weekend.
I bought two vintage (from the 60’s) skirts that are absolutely beautiful and flattering and they practically scream “WEAR ME”. I love vintage shopping, and I have since I was a kid. In my home my parents taught me the value of well kept items and it became a fascination I brought with me during my whole adolescense, but I never had the courage to buy, shop, live and wear vintage because I grew up in a small town and I was always scared of being made fun of because of my odd interests.
As I started working and earning my own money I totally got it, it appeared to me, crystal clear! I finally got it, I grasped the whole concept and now I can justify for myself why I do this. Some may percieve it as gross and weird (it’s what I’ve been told) but hey. It’s first of all, not as expensive as newly manufactured clothes. Each item in a vintage store is unique to one an other. It’s amazing what you can find, just the other day I found a see-through blouse with strengthen collar, classic 70’s. You know how rare a well kept piece like that is? I hate the wear and tear-culture and I flee it by entering the world of nostalgia. A vintage store is a time capsule and there you are safe and protected from the demanding, fast and progressive world that is doing everything it can to make you open your wallet to buy that item, everyone else is or are supposed to be wearing.
Here, the vintage items becomes modest and inviting with their silence, the secrets and the past that is hiding in the fabric. I often wonder who the lady was when she bought the garment first-hand 50 years ago. I wonder if she liked to dance, like I do. If she ever did a twirl once in a while. Did she do alot of house cleaning on soar knees every afternoon, did she have children or was she alone? When was the last time she wore the garment? Did she feel beautiful? All those thoughts, just by touching an old skirt.
So, having that said, I do like being the odd kid out.
“A dancer who relies upon the doubtful comforts of human love can never be a great dancer. Never.”
The Red Shoes, 1948
(via vintagegal)
Vintage shopping, cooking, hanging with the greatest Charlie, studying and celebrating my sister.
Most people have the feeling that they’re surrounded by morons. I’ll be the first one to admit that on a bad day I can feel as if the whole world is against me. It is stupid, immature and unfair of me and then I think of karma. Today this feeling is constant and a sticky irritaion won’t leave me alone, it’s eating me whole so I’ll just blurt it out.
Two days ago I wrote a piece on lonlieness, where I explained myself how I’ve been struggeling these last months because of a former relationship I had with a dorm-mate where it has been an odd balance of power between us, which has resulted that I’ve grown closer with some of the friends we share and that is probably a bad thing for this guy. As sad and jagged I feel and whatever adjectives apply to this whole situation I must say that I’ve been confronted with unfair commentary from this person.
Today my phone rang unexpectedly in the kitchen where he, another friend of ours and I were at the same time. As the mood was pretty much good, it suddenly got really tense because I refused to pick up the phone. I didn’t want to answer it, because it was a call from a “long time no see” old flirt that I haven’t seen in a while and I felt awkward about it so I decided not to answer it. As the one common friend of ours saw that I was blushing (unknowingly of that has been going on) he started teasing me about this phone call and started asking question just to tease, as friends do. Nothing weird about that.
Then of a sudden I hear,
“No point of questioning her about that, she has so many hook-ups, it’s hopeless to keep track on them.”, from my former.
Stop. Wait. What. Are you kidding me.
First of all. You sleep around with anyone you like, flirt with girls infront of me, avoid communication for days and when you finally decide you’ll talk to me, you bring out this? I haven’t made any single commentary on his life or choices, though he considers himself being okay with saying a thing like this. Hello, it’s the mayor of hypocrisy calling, he needs your advice on this hypocrisy thingy he got going on.
Second. You don’t get to call me slut. It’s not in any way your business or matter who calls me, who I call, who I decide to let in to my private sphere, not anymore. You burned that bridge of confidence, you are not whatsoever an authority on who I am as an emotional being. I make no apologies on how I deal with a mess I was left alone to clean up and fix, caused by no one other by this person who is now judging me.
Now my real question is, is this person a sociopat and mean or is he plainly good ol’ jealous? No, I don’t care about the answer, because the real problem is the lack of respect that made the situation undignified. I’m glad I walked away from that.
I never pray or make wishes. But I just thought, considering he thinks it’s okay to imply I’m a whore, I’m going to rejoice in the fact that his Diablo 3 is worthless while the Blizzard-server is down. Also, I hope there is a glitch in the game.
Ah, much better. Now how about some roibois tea? :)
Good night!
Today I recieved many compliments on my hair, it looked all flowy and shiny and wavy. I never get compliments for my hair, so it was a big deal.
I drank alot of coffee with my friends. Even talked a little about issues regarding real estate and did some school work. Laughed loud about how silly life can be when you buy a damaged house. It was one of those honest laughs too, that I couldn’t stop once it left my mouth. People stared a little, and smiled back at the crazy girl with big hair binging coffee.
While listening to Jimi Hendrix, I did my pilates and even danced a little as promised. And all that sadness I felt yesterday, felt like yesterday.
Good morning, good day and good night
I feel like breaking hearts tonight so I’m going to write something haunting and sad for you today. I apologize beforehand for all the spelling mistakes and messed up grammar, it’s late and my spell check ability is worthless.
It’s been a long time since I wrote anything like this, I can barely remember when the last time was but I hope my few followers that appreciated rants like these will forgive be for my absence. I’ve sleept to much, studied to hard and I haven’t danced enough. I am as I’m writing this, listening to The Smiths and I feel vurnable and little lonely.
I am convinced, no one can feel what I do. That no one can really capture and experience the feeling of being lonesome a night where it seems that everyone else is not, the way I do. I can’t wrap my mind around how some people never feel down or blue. I am surprised and astound when I hear that some folks haven’t cried for weeks, months. I cry often. When I hear a beautiful song, see beautiful acting executed, when I think of my family and how far away they are, or I simply cry when I get that overwhelming feeling of solitude that can grab on to you. A feeling that refuses to let go sometimes.
I have no idea why I have this feeling tonight. Maybe I am stressed, I have finals in a couple of weeks. I don’t feel good enough, I don’t feel smart enough, I don’t feel beautiful enough. Not right now.
It’s funny you know, I read something that absolutely tore my heart apart. I found a classmates blog. This classmate is a beautiful, astounding young lady whom I’ve started to form a friendship with. I’m slightly gaining her trust and in return I’m letting her in behind my walls. This girl, she is exhausted from her heartbreak and just reading about it made me realize, that no matter how beautiful you are or how happy you try to look, loneliness can find you in the most graceful and elegant places. She also has a lovely apartment downtown that is roomy and bright, but in contradict to that, she darker than the down side of the moon.
Her stripped post about how she scratched her chest while sleeping, having a nightmare and waking up, teary, sweaty and lonely feeling spoke to me. Let me tell you why. For five months now, I’ve been living in a dorm. Two doors away from me, a beautiful, soulful and witty boy lives who has ruined me. I’ve been hiding it. My pain and my sadness. I fell in love with this boy who made me feel special and less homesick and we shared important things. Sadly, he was not all that. One day he’d touch me and make me feel loved, while another day he’d ignore me and give short and flat answers to all of my questions.
He finally left what we had and I finally got an end to all of the guessing and wondering how he felt. All good, things like these happens. We all get our hearts broken and we’re all messed up. But for the most of the time, you don’t have to see your former lover every evening when you come home from class. You also don’t have to deal with the lying because none of our dorm mates know about our little romance. None. We made an agreement not speaking about it, like it’s a shameful thing. The way he is now, cold and…fine. How I don’t really mattered. That my friends, is what makes me feel lonely. Not being free to be sad infront of your friends because you made an agreement to lie. And it’s heavy on me. And I feel so lonely thinking about this garbage. It’s crap.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t want anyone to feel sorry for me, I handle that perfectly on my own. I just wonder (or I hope) that I’m not the only one having a secret that is weary on ones posture. He’s finally leaving after summer and when he go, I’ll breathe like a newborn gasps for air. In the meantime I’ll lick my wounds and keep silent, keep my breath because I made a promise and I’ll keep it while he is here. I’ll keep that haunting feeling at bay, maybe by calling someone over for a drink or maybe by writing a heavy and dark text here.
My hair is dry now, I took a long shower before writing this.
I even talked with a friend about getting a glass of wine soon, to meet up, catch up.
I am feeling more and more like myself as summer is approaching.
I am hopeful about finals and summer and vacation.
And I am letting go of what I thought was something beautiful and lovely, and looking forward to other things that are beautiful and lovely.
It’s getting closer to midnight, it’s time for bed.
Good night friends and lovers and all of you nomads and astrayed, tomorow I’ll wear a bright red dress and white Tamaris heels. Fuck you heartbreaker, I’m gonna do fine.
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