Monday, May 24, 2010

old gold

I love this blog so dearly...I can't believe I haven't posted in almost two weeks! I finally have the time to blog, and I thought I would share a few old things that have been making me feel like new again.

First, my latest thrift find: the perfect pair of 90's high-waisted denim shorts. I went in looking for a Virgin Suicide-y white dress that I could wear while laying around in grassy meadows and reading Whitman. Instead, I trolled through racks and racks of perfect grungey floral shift dresses and 80's button-up house dresses with lace Peter Pan collars. This would have been amazing if I 1. had no boobs a la Kate Moss and 2. had enough time to alter them. Alas, I have too much of one thing and not enough of the other, so I emerged with these instead.
My light-wash jean shorts addiction is becoming slightly problematic.

Next, I rediscovered my old silver baby brush and almost immediately realized its potential for taming/resuscitating my bangs during the day...

I also found a book that is not really a book...

...but a jewelry box!

I've recently taken to wearing my great-grandpa's old monogrammed pocketwatch as a necklace (Flava Flav style) and my grandma's big gold crown pin (which I conveniently forgot to photograph up close).

Besides the fact that vintage shopping is much better for the environment than buying brand-new, there's an element of intrigue that draws me into the depths of Value Village and the Salvation Army. Old objects have a quality about them that new things lack - there's always a little mystery there, a sense that the pin or ring or pair of pants you're holding has a story to tell you. I love the concept of wearable history - and the idea that with each step you take, you're adding a chapter to a story of your own.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

only if you're looking will it find you.

What a hectic few weeks it has been! I can practically feel the school year hurtling towards the finish line. Unfortunately, all my new responsibilities are starting to take priority over blogging. Until I get back on track, a picture post will have to suffice. I've been lacking in inspiration anyways...

Photos from Lula Scrapbook, Garance Dore, and other places.

Monday, May 3, 2010

monday tennyson.

On either side the river lie
Long fields of barley and of rye,
That clothe the wold and meet the sky;
And thro' the field the road runs by
To many-tower'd Camelot;
And up and down the people go,
Gazing where the lilies blow
Round an island there below,
The island of Shalott.

There she weaves by night and day
A magic web with colours gay.
She has heard a whisper say,
A curse is on her if she stay
To look down to Camelot.
She knows not what the curse may be,
And so she weaveth steadily,
And little other care hath she,
The Lady of Shalott.

She left the web, she left the loom,
She made three paces through the room,
She saw the water-lily bloom,
She saw the helmet and the plume,
She look'd down to Camelot.
Out flew the web and floated wide;
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

Heard a carol, mournful, holy,
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,
Till her blood was frozen slowly,
And her eyes were darkened wholly,
Turn'd to tower'd Camelot.
For ere she reach'd upon the tide
The first house by the water-side,
Singing in her song she died,
The Lady of Shalott.

Anne Valerie Hash/The Row/Chloe.