Outfit of the Week: Dahlia Day Dreamer

Dahlia dreams with her eyes wide open. Her favorite possession is her antique globe. When she stares long enough at it, she swears she can see the oceans move, volcanoes erupt, polar ice caps break apart and national boundaries disintegrate. She spins it around, her hand skimming the cool shellacked surface. When it stops spinning, she sees what country is under her pinky finger, and she lies back on her floor. She stares at the white ceiling and starts to put together the place in her head. She starts to feel the dry heat of the desert on pressing on her cheeks, the cool tropical breezing dancing with the hairs on her arms. She hears foreign tongues that sound like silk. She tastes the salt of the ocean, the clay of ancient cities, the steel of skyscrapers. She dreams up stories of lovers, kingdoms and wild animals. At night, wrapped in her sheets and eyes closed, she sees vivid colors of other worlds, and dances with day dreams.

Snow Day!

So I broke down and got the Internet installed in my apartment. Lucky for me I did when I did, because all week I've been working from home as my city is covered in a thick sugar icing. After conducting interviews and budgeting and whatnot, my friend and I ventured into the winter wonderland.

And then my friend and I warmed our frozen feet by the radiator. I think my sock is inside out.

I also broke down and got the Hipstamatic app for my iPhone. It is hard to resist.

So after defrosting, we decided to head out again and meet our friends at the Canterbury, a dive up the hill from us. We imbibed in hot toddies and hot chocolate with whisky and whipped cream, played footsie with a space heater, and listened to Iron Maiden's "Run to the Hills" twice.

The Creativity Thread

I'm astonished and amazed at the turns my life has taken, and the speed at which it has flew. Since I last updated this blog, I have landed a stellar job that I love, moved into a my own little corner of the world and have begun recognize myself again. I wished to find beauty in the simple, pleasure in the everyday, and now I feel so full of gratitude it curls my toes and makes me smile until my cheeks hurt.

At the beginning of the year, I wrote:

For the new year, my word is "craft", which can be used in many different contexts. I wish to craft the person I want to be, I wish to craft my home and lifestyle, and to literally use my hands and craft things (namely storylines and blog posts). I'm very excited to enter this new year, this new decade, lessons in tow and hands and heart at the ready.

I feel like I am on my way. As I fall into the rhythm of my job, and as I continue to discover things and people around me, I want to keep the word "craft" in the back of my mind. I want a thread of creativity.

I will drink in the words of other writers, gaining inspiration from their art.

I will care for those around me.

I will let my creativity express itself outwardly.

I will nourish and feed myself and my soul with whole, nutritious foods.

And I will write. I will exercise that creative faculty, writing to myself, to friends, to lovers, to God. This is how I choose to express my gratitude. I will weave stories, capture my life, share it with others.

Outfit of the Week: -Valentine's Special- Betty Boudoir

Nightgown: Lucky Vintage

Photo: Lady Leila

Betty Boudoir adores her bedroom. Her bed is a mattress on her hardwood floor, piled high with blue and cream comforters and down pillows. She drapes a gauzy mosquito net from her ceiling, and in the mornings emerges from her tent by trailing her fingertips along the hemmed opening, lightly gripping each edge with both hands and stretching her arms wide to take in the world. Along her walls she hangs her favorite slips and underpinnings, which act as her closet and from which she chooses her outfit for the day. She is a poet and works from home, and feels her most artistic when wearing next to nothing. When callers arrive, which they often do because of her wit, shine, and generosity with her Turkish coffee, she throws on a silk kimono or a quilted bed jacket, or sometimes a sheet when she did not feel inspired to dress that day. Her bed acts as her couch, her workspace, and her Tarot table. She is not lazy, and will protest at the mere mention of the word. She is relaxed and comfortable. Her bedroom is her sacred space, where dreams take her to other worlds but always bring her right back to the place she loves most. Why would she not want to share this with you?

Happy Valentine's Day! May your day, and many days after, be filled with love and light.

Outfit of the Week: Brigitte Bombshell

Dress: Cheap Thrills

Photo: Lady Leila

Brigitte Bombshell is far from a movie star. She resides in a small town in the mountains, far from the grease-slicked streets of Hollywood. Her town has one movie house that shows a different classic movie every Thursday. Every Thursday she goes to swoon over James Dean's rebel, to giggle with Marilyn Monroe's upstairs girl, to try and outwit Robert Redford's grifter. The dress she wears, a gift from her artist aunt who saw it in a thrift store in the Village and immediately thought of her favorite niece, makes her feel a part of the movies. The beauty that is forever captured in celluloid and remains bright, glittering, hopeful, despite the pops and cracks in the film strip. Her hands caress the worn red velvet seats, fingers following the curve in the arm rest that has become so familiar to her. The smell of popcorn leaves the taste of salt and butter on her lips. Some would think she is unhappy with her sleepy, small town, her life spent working in a small convenience store, assisting people always "just passing through". But she is happy with the familiarity around her, the closeness of her neighbors, the dazzling clarity of the stars in the night sky. She can have the big city, the neon glow, and the drama on the screen. She has a whole host of real bright lights above her head.

Our Time Is Now

The Patti Smith to my Robert Mapplethorpe sent me this song the other night. It is entirely too perfect and pertinent to my situation as of right now, although the "listen more to your friends" part is actually really helping me out. In fact, it is finding reflective elements in the people around me, striking chords and resonating tones that has lead me to solace and comfort. Over the weekend, I have experienced so much support and love that sometimes I felt like my ribcage was made of bird bone and people could see my heart beating much too fast through my thin skin.

And although I feel ragged and centuries old, my friend reminded me that I am, we are at the morning of our lives. But I'm not sure the dawn ever ends. There is always something new, something different, someone or some place waiting to be discovered. If I have learned anything from the women in my family (whose stories should be told, and perhaps will find their ways onto this blog), you never, ever stop growing and learning.

I'm excited for the adventure.


Note: The other morning, I woke to see my walls blushing. This photo was taken looking out my window.

Another note: Pardon all of the Patti Smith references as of late. I had the incredible opportunity to see her talk about her latest book, Just Kids, at Seattle Arts and Lectures last week. From our $10 seats, she looked like she was about twenty years old, wearing worn jeans stuffed into Doc Martens and gray men's t-shirt. Her voice was like worn leather, and she swallowed her "g's" and kept saying, "When I writ this book...". She ended the night with an acapella version of "Because the Night", with which the audience sang along to the chorus. To hear her voice fill a symphony hall was nothing short of astounding, crazy, and cool.

Outfit of the Week: Starla Student

Dress: Red Light Vintage

Photos: Lady Leila

Starla Student wishes there was a perfume that smelled like a worn book (she often rubs old pages on her wrist, trying to soak up the heavenly scent of the words of Baudelaire and May Alcott through osmosis). She is quiet, hiding behind her stoic, majestic ivy-covered walls. Her favorite sound is the peck DING schweep THWACK of her typewriter. The buzz of coffee whirs the back of her eyes, but she drinks it black and strong anyway. The poetry of Patti Smith and Robert Frost slide down her throat like liquid gold. She thumbs through Sol LeWitt's autobiography until she dreams of inanimate objects and ghosts of family members. She gets lost in papers, book reviews, lecture notes, and stress sometimes builds in a knot at the base of her neck. She'll go about her routine, her scurry from class to class, and hearing her worn leather boots click on the red brick sidewalks, and holding close her books like a protective shield and a marker of her identity.

Outfit of the Week: Gwendolyn Gold

Dress: Red Light Vintage

Photographs: Lady Leila

Gwendolyn Gold dreams in metallics. Her voice tastes like pennies in your mouth, her skin is cold to the touch. She builds a strong exterior around her, a sterling silver fortress where she dwells alone, laying cold crystals over her eyes to help her sleep. But the heat of bodies makes her melt. When she is in love, she bends and twists and becomes malleable. She emerges from the fire something shiny, beautiful and new.

My Walk to Work

I am very lucky to be able to walk to work every day. Here are some of the beautiful images and scenes I get to pass by.

Yes, that says, "Fuck Work", a sentiment I'm not partial to.

Outfit of the Week: Bella Bride

Dress: Red Light Vintage

Photos: Lady Leila

Bella Bride does not celebrate wedding days, she celebrates wedding years. She celebrates the union of the light and the dark on the Solstice, the marriage of the honeybee and the flower, the coupling of the fallen leaf to the ground. She herself is married to the world, to the roaring waves and the stoic mountains. Every day is a celebration, a toast to the happy couple, a first dance, a toss of the bouquet, a promise made and a promise kept.

Note: Should I ever choose to get married, this will be my actual wedding dress. I have no qualms about purchasing a wedding dress without a wedding date. When I saw it, I fell in love, and knew I wouldn't come across another one like it. However, paired with belt, hat, and kitten heels, it would make for a nice tea dress, don't you think?

Another note: I was featured on the blog Fashion Stuff! A girl approached me while at work, saying she was working on a project for school about Seattle street fashion. I love that she features high fashion as well as the fashion around her on her blog, and she was so very sweet and flattering!

Gifts of the New Year

I decided to have a low-key New Year's Eve this year, prepare my space and my body for 2010. So I cleaned my apartment, did my laundry, flipped my mattress, and made myself

A pink bath

And golden soup.

I am really and truly blessed and grateful for all the gifts in my life, not just physical objects, but people and places that are around me. Sometimes, however, a small little something really touches me in an unexpected way, and my first impulse is to cry. Happy tears, of course.


The above is the ring my late grandmother used to wear. Each stone is the birthstone for her four grandchildren. I am the eldest, and the first aquamarine stone on the left is mine. My grandmother passed at the age of 59, and her last grandchild's stone was never set in. My parents presented it to me as a birthday present.


This was an unexpected present I received in a very public place. I was thus moved to tears in public, which I'm used to, but the public hasn't quite become comfortable with it yet.


My roommate presented me with tickets to Sasquatch Festival 2010! We went last year for the first time, and now swear by it. Three days of no showering, dust coating the roof of your mouth, random midnight soccer games and music, music, music. We are more prepared this year, to say the least, and hopefully will be bringing friends!

For the new year, my word is "craft", which can be used in many different contexts. I wish to craft the person I want to be, I wish to craft my home and lifestyle, and to literally use my hands and craft things (namely storylines and blog posts). I'm very excited to enter this new year, this new decade, lessons in tow and hands and heart at the ready.

EDIT: As I was walking home from work last night, a man in a long brown trench coat with a dark chocolate voice said "Blessed new year to you," as he passed me by. I think it will be a blessed new year.