My Illustrative Life

International Women’s Day! I hope you all had a good one. I wore purple, and green, but no white. I don’t really own white, because it requires you to be so careful when wearing it.

Have you ever read anything about Suffragette Jewelry? It’s very interesting. In political movements, particularly in the push for rights that are denied due to what is perceived as basic inequalities in the people who have and do not have them, image is terribly important. It’s used as a weapon by both sides, of course, but the underdogs are generally cleverer about it, I think. They have to be - if you can intrigue, visually, you have your foot in the door of a person’s opinions.

I’ve got my mind on the Suffragettes at the moment because I’ve been doing some illustration for Sherin and Orchid’s Political Awareness gig’s fliers. The aim is to get people who aren’t that fussed about voting interested and maybe a little bothered - but first things first: my part’s about getting them (you?) to the event in question.

When I asked for a basic brief, they said they wanted a goat motif involved somehow. Gotta have a gimmick, as the movie said! And honestly, the loose guidelines mixed with the one specific (weird) bit of imagery is right up my artistic alley. When I think “votes!”, I think “for women!”, so this was the natural port of call at the head of my list (if you want to see more, and the images in a later stage of ‘finishedness’, keep your ear to this ground):

I figure, that a goat-headed person is unusual enough to catch the eye of an uninterested party.

I allow that it might be taken as an insult to female voters - that would suck. I took pains to depict a benevolent (but not weak!) goatface, and to keep her posture capable. I’d hope that the pagan / faux-satanic air of subversion would keep the image from appearing straight-up offensive.

But to be honest, people who don’t care about voting probably don’t care about showing respect for women who were prepared to die and endanger for the right. When was the last time you heard someone truly, honestly “sing in grateful chorus, Well done, sister suffragettes?”

If you are me, never. So I am singing it now, via blog via youtube via film via book. Well done, sister Suffragettes! Your movement wasn’t perfect, but whose is? You paved a great road for us, and we shall continue to alleviate the tolls.

If you think you might be interested in giving any sort of help to a London multi-band gig that wants to inspire the yoof of today to care about their ability to vote, send Sherin and Orchid a note. Every little helps! Your daughters’ daughters will adore you.

My sister, and my foot again. I’m just unable to colour things without using yellow. Why, I wonder? I barely ever use white for highlights, even when I’ve built up enough pigment to block out the paper or canvas. Or if I do use it, I start to hate it and feel put-upon.

Don’t worry, I’m not gonna be posting these every day!

Plus: I’ve been twittering my discontent with Ian Holt and Dacre Stoker’s “official” sequel to Bram Stoker’s novel Dracula; Dracula: The Un-Dead. I drew this in the night, after reading a particularly enraging, faith-breaking passage. Please excuse my vendetta.. Dracula is just too darn GOOD.

Warning: Possible rape triggers

…Odd angle..

The crocii (crocuses?) are pretty today:

This is so cute!

Bonus: An Impression - The Miracle of Birth!

Been cleaning the house all day.. finally relaxing with Wayne’s World 2. One of the best films, this is. Y-M-C-A!

P.S. JOIN THE GREETINGS REVOLUTION

Oh I forgot! The best thing about these massive medieval pockets! They make it so easy to reach snax!

My mum and sister had half-term last week, so we took an overnighter in Buxton. To walk in nature, and.. look at stuff. We stopped at Chatsworth House (because my sister is a big squealer for Pride and Prejudice), which as you can see above is quite delightful. This is the view from one side of the bridge:

One of several reasons I am proud to volunteer for BW: Waterways are wonderful. So pretty! I drew as much as my freezin’ fingers would let me.

There are links to more pictures (reference/stock) of these gorgeous landscapes in the righthand sidebar.

Also fascinating was the toilet paper, where we stayed. No really, take a gander!

Lots of charming pokey shops, too; antiques and bookshops aplenty. A surprising amount of clothing, in the antiques emporiums in and around Buxton actually - maybe it’s a local thing, but ‘vintage’ seems to be creeping in all over where it was once disdained. I may be being overly romantic.

There was the most excellent bookshop. Second-hand, antique to current, FIVE FLOORS. It had free tea and coffee! That you could make for yourself! It was glorious, and I kick myself for not being in the right sort of mood to really appreciate it. Then again, I really can’t afford to be stocking up on old, old thick books with the sorts of covers that make you want to weep from the perfection of illustration.

Where was my mind? Photographic evidence:

The horrors (and adventures) of my youth.

Truth be told I came out with exactly what I did want - Teacher’s Pet by Caroline B. Cooney, a Point Horror (remember those?) that chilled me so royally that I refused to use the downstairs bathroom for years. I’ve been looking for it for months; I wanted to see if it still had the power.

In the story the heroine finds a rough workmans glove in the woods, which turns out to still have a hand in it. My dad keeps his work gloves in the downstairs loo. I was a nervous and imaginative child!

So, watch out for THAT review, coming soon..

It snowed! The end!

I don’t always illustrate my face subject to the thoughts I had when I dressed for the day. Sometimes I do, but sometimes I just add what I think would look fitting based on the taken photograph, or to add a balancing agent to the mix (for example, if I look bodaciously Disney-buxom, I’ll probably add a manface). Sometimes I add a completely new element, to see how it changes the story of the clothing and my body language.

Today my creative process went like this:

“Haha, this outfit looks way sixties! A thinking socialite, like the ones from the movies, who took the Sound of Music straight to heart. Such things were nowhere near my mind when I put this stuff on! How interesting! I think I shall add a snooty model head, to complete the ensemble.”

“Hmmm. A lot of my thighs are visible here. How can I make a thigh look interesting? Well, much as I dislike him, Batman has made forearms look interesting.. how can I improve on that.. fins.. fins.. mermaids?.. fishpeople.. Gillman!”

“I can’t be doing with drawing ANOTHER set of thigh scales. The Creature’s only my second favourite type of classic movie-monster, anyway; I’ll show that Kate Beckinsdale what for. What a twit.”

Sunday Sunday Sunday.

Well, I finally got to reading Tank Girl: Armadillo. I read it in bed, reading reading reading for a decent couple of hours like I always, always used to. Was it good? Should you buy it (or borrow, or.. loan it)? Let’s start at the start! And finish before the end (of the book), FYI; the second half is short stories and suchlike, and I haven’t read’em yet. You can do THAT for yourself.

There’re two prefaces, from the author, and I want you to read this little bit of one of them and understand why I didn’t read past it, in the common room lunch place at work, because of having “something in my eye”.

That’s kind. Kindness and fiction-appreciation are important. Honestly, I think this book is worth the purchase for that sentiment alone.

When I was reading I started out feeling uncomfortable, to be honest. You may be different and probably are but I really don’t find it easy to come in fresh to a story and start yellin’ WOOO, BLOW HIS HEAD OFF! I mentioned in the Jennifer’s Body SPOILERS how touchy I am about cannon fodder. I don’t need ameri-dubbing on my Dragonball to her “I think I see their parachutes!”, or whatever it was. I only catch six pokemon per game if I can manage it, for goodness sake, because shoving them inside a computer seems mean. I’m a big ole bleeding heart and hearing the idol of the novel say Okay, so we shot down a cop in cold blood. So fuckin’ what? makes me go “eeeeehhh” and squirm a bit. But what felt unusual is that the book (author/protag both) seems to acknowledge that. She say the italicised sentences in a page-chapter devoted to explaining how that’s not as muddy as it seems, how I shouldn’t judge her anyway, and how she doesn’t even care if I do. And not in such a deluded, self-convincing, distancing way as the way I put it makes it sound.

I still wasn’t completely cool with the thing of it, though. Which is why it was a relief when everybody revealed themselves to be such complete stinkers who were just as willing to solve problems with murder and carnage and pain as Tank Girl and her gang, only without being fun and kind and caring the rest of the time. In a world of shooting out brains before breakfast, motivation comes to be very meaningful. It’s an interesting authorial quirk, I think - the mixture of boisterous cartoonery and irredeemable-to-the-point-of-2d villains with the 3d motivation and realistic emotional resonance. Tank Girl really does, after a while, become a vessel for violent revenge/lesson fantasies. I don’t really feel ok thinking about feeding grenades to real world despicable people, or people who have crossed or simply annoyed me - it just feels counter-productive and even in my mental Holodeck I can’t ignore that people have.. well, whole people within themselves. But here? These people whose innards I can see are bad, bad, no-good people through and through. I have it on highest authority.

Tank Girl really was my armour, as I read this book.

It’s not just that though; Armadillo is a novel. It has a story. She and her peeps are making war on this one town full of heinous characters, who’ve ruined or messed with the lives of two (really three, I guess, but Sub Girl’s ex is never relevant as her ex) of the crew. It’s full of backstory, and re-weaving of now-story, and I think that makes it backstory for some of the previously published comics cos there’s no talk of any babies. I have no idea how Tank Girl canon works. I sort of don’t want to.

There’s also (I warned you in the post title here, SPOILERS) time travel. Which I enjoyed as a plot contrivance and a method to get extra emotional facts out there, but also because it was a very, very similar method to the one used in the film Somewhere in Time. I really dig that movie; Christopher Reeve and Jane Seymour, gorgeous clothing, heart-wrenching plot. Excellent rainy day movie, and the leitmotif is a keeper. Tank Girl yammers on about a movie (and a particular song from it) she accidentally managed to see as a child which no-one else had heard of periodically, too, so I figure this is an extra relevant tangent.

Reading this book made me feel better about things. She’s not “the perfect person” and she’s not, of course, “real”. I’ve said before that reading T.G. comics make me want to dress like myself, not like her, and want to celebrate being myself, not like her. And that’s true, because you know when you read her that if you were to meet her, then she would either think you were rad or disgusting - and thinking that oneself is not rad is not the way to go about encouraging Tank Girls esteem. Plus, she speaks a lot of wisdom:

Buy it.

Wearing today addendum:

It just occurred to me that I never bigged up my last BSB post! Don’t I know anything about INTER-TUBE MARKETING?

No.

Well, clicky piccy, chickies.

There were birds making an ENORMOUS racket!

When I was in bed last night, it occurred to me that “Dinkley” is a rather better euphemism for a penis than for an actual sex act. So please adjust that title, in your head. Thank you!

,p>Recently I’ve been working on some possibly secret drawings for the Big Finish over at BSB’s current positivity-focused season. Related to those, though, is this: something a little more personal but nevertheless an important sentiment to share I think.

So, please enjoy! Be your skin dodgy or as smooth and consistent as the quality of.. humm.. Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex.

Inks on Tate Britain sketchbook card-paper. I really should learn more about what I draw on.

Being narrative and visuals-driven, I plot my clothing by fictional archetype. For work I’ve mentioned “60s professional lady” but for winter, and probably forever, it is Fairytale Murderess. It’s a little bit folksy and a little bit princessy, but grumpy and dark-toned and maybe slightly more practical.

Of course, today is also the 350 wardrobe challenge, and if there is one thing that a fairytale murderess wants to be, other than “not in jail”, it is warm. Don’t argue with me, I am in charge here.

So to stay temperate, over the normal underwear and under the outerwear goes this:

l-r: knitted shorts (Swimmer), slip (ebay), sweaterdress (NoaNoa)

Sweaterdresses make really good mid-layers when it’s on the freezing side of cold; layer them with each other or with more rigid dresses like this one. Or just underneath a jumper and a skirt, who’ll know?

I was extra prepared, today, as one must be sometimes - three hats, for the small fluctuations that breezes or electric lights can effect:

Fur vs no-fur, for the different moralities in one’s life:

And for when it got REALLY nippy, my Dad’s boarding school dressing gown. It’s fully wool, so it itches like a bassard if there aren’t enough layers below. THANKFULLY, in this case there were!

And for inner warmth, ginger wine. Non-alcoholic, because when something is delicious I like to be able to have as much of it as I like, but I do not like to fall down and be sick.

Overdress: Jane Marple

Stockings: Pretty Polly

Boots: Dr Martens

Gloves: gift, Accesorize

Fur: jumblesale leftovers

Wendy House: made by my Dad when I was knee high to a grasshopper.

One more for luck? Why not. I’ve had a king, some wolves, a witch, a plotter, some waifs and a shifter, why not have an off with her head?

I just joined tumblr (click any picture) to post a sheaf of stills from the episode of Ironside I watched this morning; it’s all good stuff. The episode itself was a bit of a bummer. Backstreet abortions may have been unsafe, and some of the people performing them may have been mercenary and unqualified, but the fact remains that abortion is a necessary option for a person and the illegality of their availability was what drove women and girls to go to these unsafe operators. Legal abortions means safe abortions. Voters in Ireland and America in particular? LISTEN LISTEN

I used this for the title over at Flickr, too, but it’s just too amusing not to flag it twice. Thanks, Stylish Man!

Now, in case I am speaking to an audience of keen sensibilities, I warn you: I wear fur here. Fur that died before I was born, that keeps me warm sans wow, I haven’t done girlish light-comedy francaise for an age! electricity, but nevertheless. If this will upset you please scroll no further down! Or just do it fast, and read about something else once this post is past.

I should have worn my work shoes.. alas, DMs do have their weaknesses. I suppose one shape cannot hope to speak all languages.

Trousers: PAUL separates, via a Christian-run charity shop where I also once found a Suchet-read Christie audiobook for 20p

Sweater: Burberry, Ebay’d (£3ish; it has holes (learn to darn!))

Fur: Left unsold at a jumble sale, subsequently gifted to me

Fox vs Polecat, which do you favour?

I will admit that it is not a very good polecat. But I tried! I do not tend to draw animals. Practice, practice.

I would have changed it, but I wanted to fit with the next picture, which was a super find in a shop called.. Head? Maybe? One of those music stores that seems to change name every other time I’m in town (not so often, admittedly). Second hand and new vinyl, anyway, so we went to have a look and what did I find but this:

Which is a terrible picture of a very cool item. Look how PINK it is! With a Bowie cover even. And the Polecats, after a quick wiki and youtube recce, are bitchin’. Twiddly and double bassy and fun and jittery and just the right mixture of brash and tuneful. Wikipedia says: The Polecats played rockabilly with a “punk sense of anarchy and helped revive the genre for a new generation in the early ’80s”. And what could one find wrong with that?

Nothing, if you are me.

Bouncy stagework, too, which is nice.

The disk says (c)’81, which is interesting when you consider just how completely 80s they look on the cover. I come to wonder, am I misunderstanding the fashion timeline (I was 0-2 in the decade, after all, and cannot be faulted for forgetting), did these guy help ring in horrible giant box jackets and aggressive pastels, or was the 50s+ bent-rockabilly look they used just ahead of its time? Maybe something else. If you know.. let me in on the info, hmm?

Click the first picture for wardrobe rundown, if you want it!

I talked about house clothes, before. The ones I showed were mostly of the pyjama-y ilk; they were designed to be worn indoors, or under other clothes. This sweater was made to be “real” clothing, it was made to see the light of day. I think it was bought when so-called Geek Chic was big a few years back.

My sister gave me this jumper because it is 80% wool and it made her itch. I’ve had it in a draw for at least six months. I never wanted to wear it because, again: it isn’t me.

But I am wearing it now! Yes. So I must amend my judgement, I can tell you that it is me but it is only a small part of me. Most of my clothes are always-clothes, really, because I have a pretty good handle on what I “am like” and how I feel that translates visually.

This jumper is, specifically, a bra-less weekend jumper.

I’m not this kind of pale melange grey. I am not these synthetic coarse colours in knitted patterns, I’m not so-uncool-it’s-cool-again nerd-sweaters. I don’t like the way it sits on my torso or how it pulls up off my hips if I move a smidgen.

Except for, on bra-less weekends in winter.

When I have nowhere I need to go, and the weather is cold and damp, and I have typing to do and cooking to plan and it gets dark at four o’clock. When I have/had a confrontation to get past, when we have records playing in the room next door, when I showered at lunch time, when I want to feel like I am dressed but not like I need to represent myself or quite come out of gentle hibernation. At these times, this jumper is perfect because I don’t need to waste something that is “really me” on a day when I just feel like private rest. If I put on a bra, I would hate wearing this jumper. It would be all wrong - once the effort begins being made, choices start to matter. It would change the shape and change the image, and I would hate it.

This jumper is one that says to me “if I am forced, if I really need to, of course I can still be me and project myself through anything. If I have to (what if whatever happened to make Mad Max happen happened? What if: Zombie apocalypse whilst I’m away from my wardrobe? What if I’m kidnapped? & so on)”. It’s a statement of self-assurance to myself (and now, to you).

The trousers don’t go at all, but I love these trousers and I wanted the comfort of them. All those times I have read ladymagazines state “fashion isn’t about attracting men” / “women dress for other women” I hae thought “well yes, but that’s a bit of a simplification, isn’t it? “Fashion” is about dressing for yourself: telling you the story you want to hear. Other things too, but that. Everything just depends on how much you’ve thought about it, and what you’ve decided.

Context is Queen.

Well, here I am posing like I think I am some kind of music star. I am not David Bowie or a lolrapper though, and these poses were mostly by accident.

Got posts I should be making, but I am TIRED. Gosh!

Oh, Fred Perry was a Tennis player? I understand! Poirot teaches us so much.

Click the top picture for outfit detail if you want them!