Art Show & All Sorts of Little Things

Aaaaahhh, my first art show is tomorrow night and I can't believe it! It's like stepping out of a dream and into a surreal reality and I'm completely beyond any normal level of nervous jubilation. If you're in the St. Louis area, please stop by and check out my collection, The Wonder of Beauty, as well as the works of Kelly Pelka and Caroline Philippone... and be sure to say hello!

Show opens at Mad Art Gallery August 2 from 7-11 pm. Free admission and cash bar for lushes.

(Vintage DIY Levis Cutoffs, Dailylook Sailor Blouse, Studded Mouse Flats and Floral Combat Boots, Topshop boots not shown)

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Running with Tinsel

Yes, we're merrymakers in masks and sparkly frocks... Thoughts of Christmas scribble the page like a creative resurrection, but with all this metaphoric graffiti spattering the paper, I still found time to bathe in that ever-prevailing yuletide euphoria. Cookie-cutter homes stood vanguard, bejeweled with twinkling lights and shimmering snowmen… obviously Saint Nick’s navigational route to every fireside in suburbia. And while the December wind and holiday spirit seemed to blow past us, through us, and all around, we hoisted the anchor of expectancy. Celebrating the entrance of yet another year, the artificial Christmas tree now appears a depressing carcass of orphaned tinsel and prehistoric ornaments. But my mind marvels a series of Machiavellian tactics, as contractual obligations of our disheveled shopping bags lends reminder to the rest of the afternoon’s binge retail-activity. This is of course, a fleeting sterilization for those painstaking holiday blue periods. ...

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Where the road takes you

Gallivanting about in a whimsy of gossamer textures and floral patterns had me feeling uncharacteristically girlish, but I couldn’t resist the magical vibe and the way sunlight seemed to pour through it and all around. (F21 tunic and knee socks, Miss Me jacket, DIY denim cutoffs and studded bag, Zinc platforms)

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Madame Trouser

Here’s a sight rarely seen… trousers! Bolstering a spunky need for change, the androgynous feel masquerades as something of the fashionably divine. Once ambivalent, I decided to lay down the gauntlet and finally flaunt my denim cutoff infidelities. But where I live, it gets blasted hot, agonizingly so… and this inferno humidity can sometimes lead to stylistic disadvantages among those ever-vindictive wardrobe challenges. I mean seriously, the suburbanite ambiance is crinkled with shades of russet and leaves are falling down like rain, despite the somersaulting 60 to 80 degree variances. A common belief in the world of comfortable apparel repetition … if I wasn’t perpetually addicted to one thing, wouldn’t I just be addicted to another? Perhaps, the proverbial tatty white t-shirt?

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Vintage Lollipops

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