I’m away from my graphics tablet; forgive the shitty face-hiding plz, also do not have the saved code for the alternate comments box - if you want to say something and it isn’t working, email! Address on the right of the front page!
A week’s Cornwalling in late July goes something like this:
These are they that spawned me (“my mum and dad”)
Gimpy tortoise! There was a whole array of gimpy moss animals, but this was my favourite. He looks so calm about it.
Hand of my mother! Picture by my mother!
Sister hearts dogz
Then some people came, and we didn’t feel like seeing people, so we ran away across the mud flats (tide was out; creek)..
And for those curious, here is the state of my VW + Melissa rubber shoes after taking all but two days worth of a walking-packed week’s holiday:
Barely scratched at all! I was worried, having heard anecdotes of shoddy VW jewellery for (natch) non-shoddy prices.. but my worries were all for naught. Spiffing!
How does an extremely minimally employed person afford a holiday anywhere? Sometimes they’re lucky enough (and believe me - I appreciate how lucky I am) to have parents who say “we booked a house and it wouldn’t cost any extra for you and your plus-one to come along, it would be lovely to have you!”. THANK YOU PARENTS, again.
Hahaha, I just made you look at holiday snaps! Do you hate me, now?
This is the secret handshake, internet. Let us sort the msties from the chaff.
You see, Ironside really likes chili. He feels it is “the only food fit for man”, because it has all the right nutrients! So, chief.. what’s your recipe? What goes IN this amazing chili? We’re all dying to hear.
The first picture was referenced, the rest were referenced from the first or from memory.
OK OK I’ll give you this one for free! Because I like y’all.
I told y’all I spent today (off sick) learning to draw Raymond Burr. He has a really particular face! As you can see in that last picture. This for the sake of an Ironside/MST3k comic, which you shall see later. If you tune in.
Needing to save my workshirts for work only, I have taken to wearing these oversized “peasant shirts” in the heat and just tying them up until they stop annoying me with their bigness. It’’s pretty comfy I guess, and disguises my belly button - if you can’t see it, you can’t be sure I’m not a clone. It’s less structured than I am used to or quite comfortable with; good for being in fields or on run-down farms or cooking a la Like Water for Chocolate but not for being in company, really. The skirt, also, is shorter and breezier than usual.. a little less secure than ideal. This is the kind of thing I need to say to myself curse it all, I have no inorganic responsibilities today before I can wear it.
Sunday! A day of rest, according to my Church of England atheist upbringing. A day of vest, right now.
I can count on Sunday to not require me to go out, mostly. I am fond of Sundays for this reason.
Garden pruning gave me a little accessorising - and no, this isn’t my Florrie’s tea party floral offering.. One does not go to garden parties in one’s robe.
I feel a little bit Snufkin, a little bit Luffy, a little bit something-I-can’t-think-of and a little bit Moreau. You see? La.
Sundays are also days when I sometimes pretend to be hipper than I am. Long necklances piss me off because they fall about, and off, and get tangled, and just look so.. forgotten? But when I’m not moving enough to affect a long thing dangling from my neck, sometimes I try it out to see if I like it after all.
Upon consideration, I don’t. I just dislike things that look precarious. “Tie it on properly!”, I think. There’s a better shot of red nose day Madonna, though.
Hat: Tress & Co. via Debenhams sale, robe: 40s deadstock via eBay, vest: Stelle McCartney + Comic Relief via charity shop, shorts: charity shop, slipperclogs: Fitflop, mug: free with Harry Potter dvd (they ran out of the HP merch, which suited me, because my dad had broken my free-with-LoTR -dvd version a week or so previous), book: Atlantis by David Gibbins (which is not as good as The Last Gospel, and which INFURIATED ME in the last chapter or so, but which is still a pretty enjoyable book if you like ancient history).
Shocking first images of the lady’s new wheels!!!! HENSHIN!!!!
This is the best way to deal with hayfever, absolutely.
Monday:
I would like to spend more time in lederhosen, definitely. I feel they inspire my dinner ladying with a little of that Problem Like Maria sparkle. (I don’t wear them to work)
Tuesday:
My pose is weird because I was in the middle of falling over.
Wednesday:
Above: for work (dinner lady); below: for home
Of course, when I say “for work”, I don’t mean that I frighten the children into behaving by looking like Grifter (if only it were that easy). The kerchief is to keep the pollen out of my face on the ride to and from work - i basically just go through miles and miles of very fertile crops. It’s necessary.
Khaki skirt: second-hand Jane Marple via Rinkya; blouse from Marie Curie charity shop; most hole-y jacket ever from Topshop; socks from Sainsbury’s; fishnets probably also from Sainsbury’s; boots are Dr Martens. Cardigan from Laura Ashley sale (decided to give it a ‘yay i have a job’ chance since it has loops and a tie for waist adjustment, probably a mistake), vintage lederhosen from Etsy. Apron-dress is second hand Jane Marple via a sales comm. Blue shirt second-hand JM also, also via Rinkya. Golden shoes are VW + Melissa, from YOOX sale.
I don’t credit bloggers and street style photo culture with my current level of inner confidence and self-pleasure. I do credit them, large-partly, with my confidence about where I stand in the public, every-day world. Bloggers, online alt-fashion communities and street style photo culture are why I could not keep up my teenage idea of the whole world is against me and nobody wants me to look how I want.
Seeing people dressed outside of the highstreet (and even outside of the known sub-culture) norm(s), happily, at various ages, all over the world, being themselves, made it impossible for me not to know that no matter where I am, there is someone who understands a bit, who doesn’t resent my self-expression and personal visual comfort, who is pleased by my constructed image and who, if we met directly, would give the metaphorical fist-bump of solidarity.
This is all I wish to provide here.
My main memory of highschool peer wardrobe approval was when my friend said to me “Why did you buy that?” about a skirt.. that I was wearing. Whilst we were out. Gee that made me feel comfortable!
I’m sure that I was as much of an ass as anyone.
I feel it like a duty, frankly (pompously?), to honestly present my thoughts and some e-semblance of my philosophy/personality so that people who are similar to me and who haven’t yet found any or many allies don’t have to feel alone in the world.
I’m not asking anyone to make a connection, or cruising for buddies - I just want to be visible as a subject of comparison. Just in case.
It’s not that I don’t do it for the plain satisfaction of self-expression, “activism”, to show off, for mental exercise, to keep me busy, etc etc as well. I like writing this blog! But I probably wouldn’t, because I am lazy, if I didn’t have the blog-related life experience that I do.
I am not sure if this counts as a manifesto, because I find the concept of “a manifesto” hard to grasp. Do you have to use particular language conventions? But it’s a “why I do this”, which I think is basically the same? Right?
When it is warm enough for shorts and my mum getting sunburned in April, something feels off. But something also feels that it is necessary to spend weekend days in the garden on one’s belly.
So, I did. More on that, and the shorts situation, later. I had.. let me see.. four books and two newspaper supplements to read Garth Nix’s Lord Sunday (thank you, beloved!), Grant Morrison & Frank Quitely’s New X-Men “ultimate collection v.1″ (because I only have spotty issues here and there from the Morrison run due to not always being able to get my hands on Essential X-Men, but what I have is SO GOOD), Hammer Films: The Bray Studio Years (birthday present! Excellent!), Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat: Calvin & Hobbes Collection (because my sister’s school was THROWING AWAY TWO HUGE COLLECTED C&H VOLUMES, CAN YOU BELIEVE, ARE THEY CRAZY), supplements from the Independent so I figured I would be doing not-much on the outwardly creative front. I figured wrongly, though.
I mentioned on twitter that I drew a princess doing carpentry earlier, and that I liked it a lot. I can’t show you the one I meant then, because it’s on a birthday card for my cousin (I don’t think she reads here.. D:), but I can show you the ones I did afterwards. It’s so pleasing! Fancy calm dresses and destructive physicality. Yeuhhhh.
I gotta look up non-euro-fairytale style princesses. I would like to make the Princess’ Woodcutting and Carpentry School open to international students, very much.
Third princess referenced from a shot of Mohammed Ali Chopping wood; the two-princess saw’s from a picture you get if you google image “two-man saw”.
I told y’all I’d give you a peek into the give peace a chance exhibition I saw for my birthday; a bunch of photos taken during the Bed-In which were never published back in the day. I think it’s a travelling exhibition, that’s only recently or semi-recently Come To England. The photographer had kept them all (in his attic? It’s usually in the attic, right?) and once he decided to share them, convinced by the curator (his friend), he died. I don’t think the death was related, but, it happened the day after he agreed. That’s interesting, maybe?
Like I mentioned, there was no photography allowed in the ‘gallery’ (Cathedral basement), and I hadn’t taken any paper, so! Here are some approximations of what my beloved and I can remember were in some of the pictures we saw. Some were black and white, some were colour. Enjoy! Catch the proper pictures when you can!
I’ll show you in the order we saw them:
The second arrow has a caption next to it that you can’t see, it says “other gift, possibly a book or a flower”.
These little cartoons were drawn on John’s guitar - they’re probably not that unseen, but all I know of Beatles legend I absorbed through the skin growing up, basically, I have no specific trivia. We went to the show because Yoko Ono.. well, she’s wonderful really, isn’t she? My tutor in Uni had a huge great fancrush on John Lennon, though, and after seeing these pictures I can kind of get the idolatry. He was just kind of cool, wasn’t he?
Sniffin” a flower, takin’ a stretch, in The Bed.
Adorable girl-child! Much cuter in the actual photo than here. I did not mean to make Yoko look so Pocahontas or John so stodgy, either, but what can I do? I was drawing from memory!
Yoko and (I am presuming) the girl who climbed in through the fire escape and was asked to stay, making lifelong friends and getting a, authorial career boost. Lesson: Break and enter! Cool people will admire you for it!
BARE FEET PEACE
This is my favourite picture of John Lennon. The thought bubble caption is “LOL FUNNIEST EVER”, because that was really the air the photo gave off (as well as a bunch of artists and writers and creatives who were down with the bed-in idea, they asked Al Capp (did I mis-remember the K in KRAPP?) because his cartoon strips were vitriolic towards hippies, apparently). There is, as beloved says, a reason that Ringo is regarded as the “funny one”. I looked at this picture and said to him (my gent), “Everybody smoke weed” because I am not as good at misremembering memorable/relevant lines as I am at humorous reintegration. Oh well!
There was a wishing tree, of course. I drew a wishing tree with many wishes on my tag. Are you supposed to keep that secret, like birthday cake wishes? I don’t think so.
I’m not ashamed. I’ll say it. HOLY CRIKEY DARN, I am so psyched for The Runaways (band movie, not comic, or comic movie). Eeeeeeee.
Anyway when I was in bed this morning, watching the (puny) DVD extras on the Dark Angel season one boxset I was thinking to myself, as I do, “what shall I wear today?” I put the question to one side, as I did a little internet catch-up, feeling that the answer would come in time. And naturally - it did!
I forget where I was, but I saw mention of Runaways preview trailers. WHAT, I thought? I can WATCH SOME OF IT? Already?? And then I sent an email to my beloved saying that I wasn’t going to, because it would probably make me feel too full of fireworks and vim - and I have no villain to punch to calm myself down.
But (I thought) there’s no reason why I can’t look at related stills and get a bit of contact-awesome! And that: is what I did!
The answer was pretty clear. I needed to wear some seventies jeans.
I don’t really have much of a bond with jeans; I didn’t own any until I was old enough to make a big “I’m so cool cos I’m different” mental deal of the fact that I didn’t have any jeans (seven?) and throughout my life finding any kind of trousers to fit has been an angry ordeal. I haaaate trying jeans on in shops (it takes ages! and energy! and they’re never gonna fit perfectly ANYWAY, and they’re expensive even if they fit just “okay”!). So when I see lists of wardrobe must-haves that include jeans, my reaction is pretty much a big ole “whatever”. I frown at jeans because they frown at me.
Actually on the whole I also just don’t think they look that interesting. “Jeans” as a concept are ubiquitous, and since I don’t live in a high fashion or very hip area means I get to see a lot of really boring cuts. I’m sorry!
Seventies jeans, though? Those I can dig. Flares flatter, High waists, large pockets.. seventies jeans are chilled and lounging with hidden power. They have metaphorical narrowed eyes. Their lines flow - bootcut and a lot of modern “lady trousers” have lines that I find really uncomfortable. They short of go vase-like up the legs, and then flick in over the top of the hips? I hate them, they make me feel like a sack of potatoes. Particularly trousers from Fat Face. They just are not for ladies built like me.
I’m reading that this kind of jeans are coming back into shops, which is nice, though I suspect the shape will be smaller in the hips now than then. But like I mentioned - trying on jeans is my idea of shopping labour. Unless they’re already in my house. Handily folded away on a shelf for etsy sale, fresh out of my Gran’s attic - my mum’s teenage jeans! From the actual seventies. I got out of bed and I tried them on, and would you believe? Somehow all of a sudden, they magically fit me, Kind of. Well enough. That’s the other thing about seventies jeans, as seen on the Runaways (real or filmic) - they’re just there to express how awesome and bodacious you are, rather than being king of the picture. Seventies jeans are like the stem of a flower. The wearer is the blossom. On second thoughts that analogy is irritatingly close to my childhood belief of “the 70s = flower children”, but.. jeans make me say whatever. So: whatever!
Mumjeans. Seventies jeans
Did you ever put on three different things that you know are “you”, and end up feeling unsure if you feel “like you” when you have them all on at once? I haven’t worn trousers casually with a non-oversized top for too long! It took a while to get used to.
Then I got too hot and changed to my Bowie shirt out of the washing bin. WOW let’s PUSH THAT ENVELOPE on the ‘what to wear with seventies jeans’ front!
Right there is the only bad thing about authentic seventies jeans: the zips are often not the healthiest. But that’s cool - Kristen-as-Joan rocks the open waistbutton, and so can I. If I feel like it.
I took my sister to check out Bath Uni yesterday and we had some hours to kill before our return train left, so: we shopped. Window, mostly, but then I saw this.
And then I saw the “33% off” tag. And then I went like this: *0*!!
Reader, I bought it.
I like this jacket because:
velvet!
it is a size up from the one I wear ‘correctly’ - so the shoulderpads actually go wider than my true shoulders!
the size-up thing also means there is extra liquid drape, which means that I as a “short hourglass” am not rectangulised
VELVET
it is a bit purple!
I have always wanted to try something double-breasted.
I also really enjoy the cropped sleeves (I am a dangler of long sleeves) and the fact that it’s faulty. For one thing, I feel it will/would look uh-may-zing patched. And for another, when I buy highstreet stuff new I do feel a bit “everyone else will have it too!”. The fact that I need to fix it means it will become definitively my own; without me, it would be a pile of rags. We help each other.
I’ve needed a jacket.. all my life, really. I usually (used to!) just go straight from coat to no-coat.
I bought these shoes for my uncle’s wedding, and then forgot to pack them when we went down to the south coast for it. Usually I keep them on the shelf, to look at. I am not a heels-wearer, but I can admire a pair of glitter platforms NO problem. Occasionally I take them out to wear whilst I watch something glam-themed.
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
Picture taken by my sister, in her room, dancing to Blondie
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.
LET'S BE BUDS, BUB IllustratorClaire: Twenty-three year old Illustrator and Englisher, female feminist, interested in being helpful and denouncing things that aren't. Designed and drew the Britsh Style Bloggers logo; available to hire on just about any illustration project. Currently working as a Dinner Lady. For illustration portfolio, click the "tales from the sketchpages" tag or my logo below! Why do I do this? click here. Thank you!
I am not paid - in money or in gifts or favours - to endorse anything here. If I was, I would be bad at it, because lying is ugly.
If you've commented here and it isn't showing up, it's not because I hate you! It's because either wordpress or 1and1 hate me. Give me a shout on claire [at] illustratorclaire.co.uk, or claire [at] britishstylebloggers.org.uk!
Oh, and by the way - I do tend to post on Sundays, so if you find that day a little net-empty.. check back? Great idea!
