My Illustrative Life

Remember when I planted a bunch of bulbs including some garlic?

They grew, of course!

>

That’s the garlic. Isn’t it fine? It’s not done yet, as you can see, but when it is.. there will be a lot. And I shall use it ALL!

Irises and crosuses (crocii still sounds better) too, though they’re in or nearing their prime already:

I think this type of iris is so weird looking. Like alien mouths.

I don’t know the names of the individual types of crocus. But I know that they are ridiculously easy to grow; put them in the ground, forget about them, be pleasantly surprised by small flower-cups!

This was an interesting texture - a rose hip that’s shriveled on the plant.

I hope I never stop being amazed at the colours that can be found in wood. This is burburis, which is apparently a very defensive plant. It’s danger-yellow when grazed, I’m told it’s poisonous-bitter, and it’s extremely thorny. Extremely. Ouch.

I spent twelve til four building and tending a bonfire of all the scrubby old dead crud left over at the end of a garden’s winter. It was a job of heaving and smoked eyes, trampling and poking and blowing and propping and coaxing and HEAVING HARDER. Ivy and other scrub tangles as easily as hair if left to its own devices! But I had a big shiny fork to help me, which was nice.

I’ve got no flippin’ clue why or when this went so crap. It was fine and sharp when I finished editing it.. fantastic.

It was a little bit like I had slain a forest spirit-beast; the branches on top of the bonfire were antlers and the weeds were its flankshag. Not the kind of death that makes you a villain, though. The kind that forges respect between the two involved, and makes you responsible for that area of woodland for example.

I aquired this advert page (got my sister to rip it out of a magazine (she was in the corner, I was in view) in a cafe) last weekend. And not for the reason you may suspect! Compared to my beloved this dude is weaksauce. Not to disparage his objective attractiveness..

I think that the current ad campaign for Gaultier’s Le Male (and whatever the girly version is called) is pretty much super-great. Because it’s a male/female pair, and both versions are almost exactly the same. They’re both soft, but not too soft. Both a little bit fetish-y; the corset for the lady, the sailor outfit for the guy (I love his little hat!). Mimifroufrou.com says

The advertising plays on the ambiguity of a masculine image that is appealing to the gay community for its Querelle de Brest reference but is shown in the TV commercial to be heterosexual.

I don’t know if that’s the intention or the precise direction of the direction (I can certainly believe it) but I do know that I enjoy the heck out of it. This “appealing to the gay community” isn’t just doing that - it’s appealing to the me community.

I don’t want to see ‘traditional’ manly man men man in adverts. They’re boring; I’ve seen them since forever. They don’t interest me because I like balance.. and that applies to all areas.

I like to see trad-masculine balanced with trad-feminine. Why does Hokuto No Ken appeal to my heart so well? Because it’s about uberdudes whose hearts are crying even as they tear off heads. Why do I like to read Being Manly? Because it’s about ‘manliness and masculinities’ (emphasis masculinities) approached in a gender-inclusive, polite way that makes me (a lady!) feel welcomed, and talks about gender relations and gender roles in a positive way. Why do I like to wear Dr Martens and a heavy leather coat on my wide shoulders and army surplus(/inspired) hats? Because I really like to wear pink skirts! Why did I make Laurence Llewellyn Bowen my style icon (and nickname, though I didn’t make that happen, so much) in sixth form?

Because I was at an all-girls school and most of my friends were vocally into lipgloss and high heels. Why do I love the Runaways so hard? Because they were girls who wore girl clothes and who were assertive and who weren’t ladylike and sang about screwing and drinking. I did a whole great long poorly formatted post early on in this blog’s life about my enjoyment of Jean Claude Van Damme movies due to the, perhaps, “masculine femininity” or “feminine masculinity” of the majority of them. Why do I stare so hard and long at my beloved’s Disney-princess eyelashes (other than the whole “I love him” thing)?

For the same reason as why I think these two adverts are the bees knees. Because they’re not so flippin’ gender binary as most of what gets thrown in my face in the everyday.

It’s some kind of mad dream to see a “I just had sex with a lady” gent doing anything other than thinking “I am SO AMAZINGLY THE BEST because getting ladies means you WIN”. It is some kind of madder dream to see a post lady-sex guy doing semi-submissiv, emotion-based flexing about in tight pants and trousers, putting on a little hat (for his own enjoyment!). I’ve got no idea what these scents smell like, but I am fully pro-them.

You see? Advertsising CAN make me want to buy things! It just usually does the opposite.

They ain’t perfect. She could have a smirk after smelling the pillow too. But that? Is a pretty small complaint, considering.

Yesterday my mum and my sister and I visited my Great Aunt, who lives a fair way away in (my ancestral) Coventry, and took her to Coombe Abbey. Coombe Abbey, if you haven’t been, is awesome.

I haven’t taken any pictures of one reason it was so awesome, because that is probably illegal - there were tons and tons of kids there. Loads. I know it’s half term and all, but it was a joy to see youngins running about yelling at ducks, enjoying forest pathways, climbing banks, shouting “I AM THE TALKING BUSH” and shaking branches from inside evergreens which branch from ground-level, walking dogs, and QUITE CLEARLY being on dates. Too cute. If you are ever thinking, “oh alas children do not like nature any more, only wii, how sad!”, you should go to Coombe Abbey (at half term).

It has buildings, and grounds (lots), and just about every type of country landscape you could ask for. There’s a pond at the front of (what I think is) the hotel that has a sort of aqueduct non-bridge pathway across it; on one side it’s nature free and wobbly and undergrowth, on the other it’s nurture - angular and groomed, statues in the water, box-shaped box hedges.

There are paths to follow in various directions, which managed to turn me completely around and take me by surprise. I thought I’d reached a new building, but it was the one we started at. Cunning! The whole place has a sense of mystery though, the way it’s lain out - there’s always something just visible through or past or behind what you’re looking at.

The grounds were really, really pretty. These don’t do them justice because I am not a good photographer (and the camera I was borrowing is kind of weird and colour-bleaching/non-focusable).

Coombe Abbey also contains the spookiest tree-bourne sculpture I have ever seen. The black dog in this picture was being called forcefully by its owners, but I was willing it to stay in the frame long enough for the darn picture to take..

Seriously, is that supposed to be.. what is that supposed to be??

What’s a day out without a fitting outfit? NOTHING, THAT is what!! In a moment of great serendipity, my super-fantastic dreamskirt from Modelle - via the NASTY GAL sale - arrived that morning..

I was sure I would be able to see my own foot through the trunk’s various holes if only I stretched far enough..

I couldn’t.

BONUS: Me totally failing to replicate the awesome height achieved by my first run-up, which my fool sister MISSED CURSE HER.

And with that, I’ll go back where I came from.

Has anyone else noticed that all the Valentines-themed window displays this year are red (with silver or black accoutrements)? Red to hot pink, at least. Where is all the marshmallowy pink, the fluffy powder colours, the teddy bears swearing eternal affection? Everwhere I looked, in town yesterday, there were red satin undergarments with the spindliest of garter belts (they won’t work, don’t you want your sexy to be practical too?), and shiny metallic balloons.

I did consider that it was a display of solidarity with China, any British-Chinese or visiting tourists, Chinese New Year falling today also. Red being an important related colour. But there wasn’t any gold involved, and besides - shop windows don’t tend to be that inclusive.

I hope you’re having a fine day, whatever you’re celebrating or whatever you aren’t. I do think it’s a shame when people are vitriolic against Saint Valentine’s Day, because being martyred because you refused to disallow soldiers to marry is pretty bloody admirable if you ask me. And technically, by visiting my blog, you did. Ha-HAH! I think it’s a day to celebrate, unless you prefer to make it a day for activism - St. V died for the cause of marriage for a portion of the population who higher-ups felt shouldn’t be allowed it. Who knows what his views on homosexuality would be, but luckily for us (and the whole point of this is that) he’s dead - so he can’t complain if we use his Day to say “Hey, Governments - Let Your People Marry”.

I was unconsciously mirroring the red red world, when I ventured out into it to search out records with my newly-drivers’-liscenced sister. My reds were deeper though, because straight-up primary colours make me look startled. And besides, I like the mystery of a slightly dirty hue.

I couldn’t physically be with my beloved for Valentine’s Day - actually, we’ve never been together on The Day (don’t worry! It’s never mattered, either) - and I’m not near any New Year celebrations as I thought I would be so I’m here typing.. Able to say that if you are feeling blue (and so quite out of place) then all you need to do is put on some dreamin’ gear and use that in-head laptop we call ‘imagination’ to fly you to where and with whom you really want to be. Look, I’ll show you:

Oh - and I beg your pardon, happy New Year to China, and anyone who celebrates!

So, you may have noticed that I kid of dig Jane Marple clothing. And it’s true, I do! I’m wearing it today, top and bottom. I think JM is the best brand I ever did have the pleasure of wearing. Or viewing, actually - it may not be couture, but it taps my rhythms just right. It’s a Japanese company, and they don’t sell online - or that widely at all, I believe. A few outlets here and there, one or two official boutiques? I know there’s one place in Australia that carries their lines!

I don’t live in Australia (or Japan) though, and have no plans to visit. Plus, of course, Jane does not come cheap - first-hand Marple asks for more pieces of eight than I’m willing to part with. Thus: Rinkya.

It’s quite easy to feel that Jane Maple is far beyond your possibilities. I found the brand through the first FRUiTS volume and followed it onto the various Street Style LJ comms, and I wasn’t the only one (by far!) bemoaning the impossibility of getting my hands on these gorgeous garments. Proxy bidding services just aren’t a part of a lot of (most?) people’s internet consciousness; I only tried Rinkya after a lot of encouragement from a fellow JM appreciator who wanted everyone who felt the urge to enjoy their clothes! So I’m trying to Pay It Forward: USE RINKYA! IT’S GREAT!

You can find the FAQ here and an explanation of their fee system here - but the gist of the matter is that they let you browse the yahoo!japan auctions without knowing the language, and act as a middle man between you and sellers who don’t ship outside the country (a lot of them, actually!) or speak (or are willing to speak) English (or whatever you speak!). They’re friendly!

But instead of just talking, I’m gonna show you the best Jane Marple items available on Rinkya right now that I’m not going to buy. Because I want to spread the bounty, but I also (like Jackie) want what I want. OK, Let’s go!

Seriously, LOOK AT THESE. They are smart. I don’t wear heels that aren’t made of purple glittery platform, but if I did, they would be these.

Satin. Drop-waist. Lace collar. Pleats. It looks gen-yu-wine twenties good girl (secretly spunky) rich daughter London//country estate, but it ain’t. Which is good, because it means you don’t have to worry that it’ll fall apart!

That’s just pretty. Delicate, yet mysterious.

If you don’t think that The Sound of Music is one of the most stylish films going, you should probably watch it again. You won’t mind, because that film has singing nuns. And Captain Von Trapp is very fruity; it is marvelous to watch once you have realised.

Purple. Textured knit. Thigh-high. Going for only 500 yen.

I WANT THIS. But belts never fit me. Ever.

Spring and summer are coming, and these are so forest-pretty with the promise of secret toughness (leather, wood, brass for stabbing). I don’t wear open-toes shoes because I get pebbles under my toes, and I don’t really like inflexible soles or having my hair being held rigid. I do have one or two very pretty hairslides that I use to keep scarves in place, though, so maybe you could try this for that..?

Interesting but not pointless exploration of jersey! Sweaterdress for cooler weather, check, vest for cooler-than-hot weather, CHECK! I’m not keen on the “Love me”, but if that’s your thing then I say thank goodness for diversity of opinion. I really like the orange sherrrrr-berrrrt with the candypink on the vest; JM uses a lot of off-track colours, actually.

Click the pictures to get to the auctions. They’re all in yen (divide by 100 to get an approximate dollar value), and you need to sign up to rinkya before you can bid (don’t forget to read the rules!). But. The point is: it is worth it. These clothes are well-made and off-beat, and despite the fact that most of them are second hand there are a LOT of clothes still with tags on, or worn only two or three times.

I feel like whenever I buy with this service, I’m supporting my favourite brand. One the one hand by wearing their things, and on the other by freeing up wardrobe space and spare cash for the girls who do buy new. It’s the circle of life, and it moves us all.

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:

You may or may not know, my little (though actually bigger than me) sister is in a band. They do some of their own songs, and cover a bunch of songs in the Queen/The Who vein. I am very proud of her. But because of that, the fact that she can’t drive by herself yet, and the fact that her exams are over for now my family took a daytrip to the town where they’re playing tonight. Let’s explore Moreton in Marsh!

This first thing deserves a paragraph of its own - I walked around a tiny park, and the tiny park had no, I repeat no crisp packets outside of the bin. Say it with me: LET’S KEEP BRITAIN TIDY!

Moreton in Marsh is one of those confectionary towns. It’s “the gateway to the Cotswolds”; the main streets are just picturesque, all big blocks of sandstone, heavy doors (some giant, some tiny), great large windows on antique shops and gift shows and tea shops.

Speaking of tea shops. We ate lunch in The Marshmallow(where I got to read about four more pages of TG:Armadillo). I’d been pulling for Thai, but Dad pointed out that this Marshmallow had been honoured by UK Tea Council multiple times. And I do love a good cuppa. One of the Christmas presents I asked for - and received! Hurray! - was a subscription to the Twinings Tea of the Month club! I drank a pot of “Kenyan” (or.. was it “Kenya”?), because the menu described it as colourful. It was tasty, but it paled, actually, when lunch proper arrived. Cottage pie. Creamed mashed potato. Perfectly cooked vegetables. The end of my Mum’s beef casserole with cobbler. A fair bit of my sister’s portion of veg. A taste of my Dad’s liver and onions. I swear, I coulda kept going and going.

Would you like a loyalty card?
Dad says no. Of course. What do I say? Oh come on, you can guess.

I also enjoyed the wallpaper in the hotel the band’s (I did their logo!) playing at.

I felt just about right in what I was wearing, situationally (sweaterdresses + antiques = Just Right), but I think I’m gonna sew buttons around the inside of the hem and around the lower half of the neckline. I feel OK with a shorter skirt and a high neck, or a lower neckline and a longer skirt, but short and low (I know it’s not extreme. But it is for me! Especially with this long jacket warping perception) makes me feel a bit flashy. Dickies and faux-slips, from now on!

I took some video on the way home. The light was so beautiful, and the countryside really should be seen and appreciated! Good editing practice, too. Which reminds me! Can I get some volunteers to give me constructive criticism on a video? It would be really, really useful!

I’m still adding the new comments format! But I’ve figured out a way to keep them off the front page. Click the title, or normal “comment” button, and see!

Click the above picture for the warmthblog entry! Just a small tip, but a good’un all the same.

I found this badge earlier whilst I was looking for some nails. It is just about perfect:

Combining good girls who will be fine if through no fault of their own they find themselves lost in a wood, with post-apocalyptica and comics. Or, combining me with me. Marvelous.

Pattern-model style, Christmas day, exhibiting one of the presents my sister and I gave our immediate ancestors.

Boxing day, walking; I love the English countryside. I love it. Quotes from Guthrie in Bloomability by Sharon Creech, one of those books that I might describe as “almost perfect” and only almost because calling a thing perfect seems foolish. You should maybe read it, though, especially if you are feeling unhopeful or hopeful.

Post-walk, building a fire before watching Desperately Seeking Susan. Wearing gift-dress (H&M) and gift-tights. Thanks Mum! And gift-slippers, thanks Dad!

No, my modesty is safe. Knitted shorts.

Peace out.

1 Skirt: etsy

Jumper: Jaeger

Tights: H&M // H&M

Slippers: Fit-Flop

2 (vest: Next, Thermal: M&S, slip: ebay)

Sweaterdress: H&M (gift!)

Sweaterdress: NoaNoa

Suede overdress: Fanny & the Cave

Tights: H&M

Boots: Dr Martens

Hat: RSPB Capercaillie tartan

Coat: Camden

Gloves: Accessorize

3 as before!

The mask in my previous post was made for my sister to wear to a masked ball one of her friends was having for their eighteenth (I think?). She asked me to craft one for her even though I’d never tried masks before because she is a good sister and believes me when I say “I can do anything!”.

I agreed because I also believe me when I say this, and because I figured it’d be fun. I was right! Skill-expansion is awesome! Awesome enough to share.

I had a great reel of aluminium wire from previous craft-based sculpture experiments (just under half a centimetre diameter (I can’t find the box to check exactly!)) and a blue 80s leather jacket I’d bought with Kenshiro in mind and which therefore had no need for its sleeves; the leather is thin and soft and easy to sew by hand.

Well, I say “easy”. My digit-skin might tell you differently. Callouses!

I basically winged it. I find that a very satisfying way to work, because I am full of i-told-you-so pride and like to feel I have won a vicious ambushed battle, not simply made a thing. I wanted to have a finished product that could be worn and taken off with ease like glasses, because I find elastic and tie-based masks are very often extremely annoying, because they mess up one’s hair. And, at a dance of the like that demands new faux-snake heels, messy hair is not in desired order.

I cut a length of wire that would reach all around her noggin and used my knowledge of the human head to mould a basic ears-cheeks-nose outline that would rest on her face like lower-placed glasses (she looked like she was wearing a retainer). Then I took her head, and adjusted the moulding until it sat comfortably. Aluminium bends really, really easily, so you can just do this by touch. After it was comfortable enough to be forgettable whilst on, I cut out a Ninja Turtle-style mask -

- from the leather sleeve that was definitely wider and longer than the finished mask would need. Seam allowance and so forth, you see? You need a leather that’s soft enough to fold in to the contours of your subject’s face. Draw with a pen just around the inside of the wearer’s eye socket (that is, under the brow bone and along the top of the cheekbone). I cut out these holes.

Having sewed the floppy leather mask-piece onto the front of the aluminium “retainer”, cut another length of wire that reaches from the tip of the nose up and back to the crown. Mould this to the wearer’s profile. The ridge of the nose needs to be closely followed, but the remaining portion that spikes back over the head doesn’t need to lie flat. Do as you will with it! You can remove it, even; it’s not necessary.

The rest, I think, is figure-outable from these pictures. The orange arrows (forgive their sloppiness! I didn’t have my tablet available, and Pixen hates touchpads!) are where there’s wire piped in, the lilac ones are where there’s no wire. Just pinch and add darts or channels where they’re needed, to fit it to the face of the intended wearer. If you want a mask to be worn bare-leather, you’ll need to be more discerning in your thread-colour choices than I was. Upholstery thread is also a good bet for a project like this - you can find it in any craft or fabric shop.

As uncomfortable and sloppy as this looks when worn it feels perfect. If you’re striving for perfection, I’d advise lining your finished mask with felt. Just cut out the shapes the front is ‘made of’ and glue them inside.

Here are some useful links!

I made a mask.

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?

Right now I am watching The Mummy Returns on the Hallmark channel. Which is serendipitous - I have been planning to write this post all week.

So: 2001’s The Mummy Returns, starring Brendan Fraser and Rachel Weiss. I really, really enjoy this movie! I didn’t see it in the cinema, but I’ve owned it long enough that my copy is on video. It’s just.. basically flawless*, as a movie to feel good whilst watching. It has:

• A married couple who are in love
• who have a child
• who isn’t annoying
• who is actually fun to watch! He’s spunky!
• The wardrobe is marvelous, all 1933s archaeologist-adventurer/stylish English lady wearing egyptian burnished-deco
• The supporting cast all have personalities and are not crippled by their quipping
• Emotions are engaged despite the action-movie set pieces, the cg monsters, etc
• Imhotep is one of my FAVOURITE VILLAINS EVER.

Let’s talk about Imhotep.

In this film - which is a sequel to the remake of the 1932 Karloff picture The Mummy - Imhotep is played by Arnold Vosloo, in place of Boris Karloff.

Part of the reason I like Arnold Vosloo is that I think he looks like G1 Megatron, and I both find that amusing and enjoy Megatron, so I start this situation with kindly feelings.

In this version of the history, Imhotep was (basically) advisor to the Pharaoh who fell in love, reciprocated love, with the Pharaoh’s woman. And from here-on in, SPOILERS. Be ye warned. Imhotep and Anc-su-namun are discovered together, and he is taken away to be executed whilst she kills herself, unwilling to stay the property of the Pharaoh. In the twenties Imhotep is raised - as per the curse he was buried under - and searches out Anck-su-namun, only to be foiled. In Returns he (guess what!) returns - raised by the reincarnation of Anck-su-namun, and they plan to gain the power of the Scorpion King and live it up like they never got to before.

Imhotep’s motivation is, basically, he misses his girlfriend and he’s cranky after being woken up from being murdered horribly (twice). I feel for him; I miss my [gentleman]friend and I too am cranky when I wake. Occult rivalries, too, bring out a worse side than my usual face. He has a minority of the movie’s kills. And his reaction to his final betrayal.. well, do you have a heart? You may find it squeezed for him, the poor mite.

Right??

As per last time: I owe this movie to Karloff’s movie. And he did make that movie; if you haven’t seen the Universal The Mummy it is available for free, legal download on archive.org. It wowed me, to be honest. I was so-so until the close-up on Karloff-Imhotep’s awakening. That, friends, is acting.

And I enjoyed, enormously, comparing the old Mummy with the new Mummys. These remakes.. in my opinion, they are respectful. The build on the story. There are a couple of references that really made me smile, but the story weaving is my favourite. Take 1932Mummy on one hand, and the 1999/2001Mummy(Returns) on the other. If you watch one hand, you will have a fine cinematic experience. If you watch the other, ditto. But if you watch both, you will have a better experience. They work together, they’re a dialogue. The way the nuances of the story and the characters change between the eras, the way the new ones are the old one re-worked rather than simply re-written. The Mummy vs The Mummy will give you some of this, but for the full joy Returns is a must. It is a rare breed of sequel. I think it is a fine tribute.

Once again, let us cheer! Thank you, Boris Karloff! Thank you very much!

Oh, and one more thing - Don’t bother with Tomb of the Dragon Emperor That movie can go.. fish.

*Bar the only-features-two-ladies (three if you count the “I am a gold-digger with my non-1933 cleavage” five-second cameo) catch, natch. :/