I am “an illustrator” and my beloved is “a writer”. We do a lot of creating, but have nothing ready for public show. Which sucks quite a lot, because it makes us look like big lazy sub-par arses. But for tiny, everyday practice, we decided to start a story game. And now, we share! I drew a picture I had no story for (and honestly, no like for; the anatomy is terrible. I have been so lazy with my lifedrawing studies recently AND IT SHOWS), he made a scenario out of it. I drew a picture inspired by that, he wrote a little bit. And so on, and so on. I was baking, he was hoovering, during..
Him: It seems like the Coalition for Nuclear Disarmament are training an airstrike unit for their next protest… But inkeeping with their liberal leanings, they aren’t against letting under-18s apply for the job!
Him: “You see the figure on the chimeny?”
“Yeah…”
“She’s demonstrating the correct launching-off point for our airstrike. Now–”
“Isn’t that a nuclear chimney?”
“…What was that about the chimeny?”
“Chimney. Isn’t a nuclear power station?”
“Well… There’s ‘nuclear’, and NUCLEAR nuclear. This plant is just nuclear.”
“Isn’t there a fundamental ideological flaw in launching an anti-nuclear airstrike from a–”
“SO THE NEXT SLIDE IS………”
Me:
Him: “WAIT WAIT! That chimney’s–”
“Chimeny.”
“–DEFINITELY nucular, ‘cos I used the shower at that facility this morning… What? My dad works there. So I used the shower, and now I have to wear this coat ALL the time or my blood falls out and I have to drink other peope’s!!”
“…Huh. Alright, MAYBE we should choose a different chimeny. Does anyone know of any?”
“You don’t need a take-off point if you outfit the wings with a VTOL system.”
“…Genius! But how can we fuel such a thing without sacrificing our anti-nuclear morals?!”
“Nucular….”
Me:
Him: Ok, mental block. But they’re in disguise to find a new source of power or… SOMETHING. Me: What I was imagining was, they were pretending to have been RUINED AND MUTANTISED by nucular power, so that they had an excuse for using it for their advantage. Did you notice chubby frankie muniz?
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.”
I don’t want to change my hair. I like it a lot how it is. And I don’t really tend to envy people - just approve of them, because I am a Queen and thus imperious. But, here is an exercise: If I had to change it. If a villain was holding the world to ransom, and their only demand were that I MUST get a hair transplant.. Here is what I would choose. Three choices, in case they don’t have many scalps for me to pick from.
I like hair with texture and rhythm and impact. The hair I have now allows it its optimum.. boosh, if you like, and it holds my face like pincers. It’s short in the back, which lets me feel punchy, and it’s swishy in the front which makes me feel serene (but not too swishy, so I remain controlled). These three also have that mix of KA-POW and gliiiiide, I think. Don’t you? Or maybe you read them differently, that is the interesting thing about opinions! Do share.
My fourth choice - which doesn’t really count, because It’s more of a “style” than a “do”, if you see - is the hair I saw on a lady in the Jimi Hendrix documentary my sister and I watched on the train on the way back from her last uni visit. I didn’t see the start so I didn’t know her name! But I had to show her cool, cool hair to my beloved, and so: I found her. Fayne Pridgon. Here are a very bad picture and a link, because for some reason the clip has embedding turned off! Bah!
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.
A thing that has yet to be publically “proven” yet remains a fact is that I am a lady. On account of this having always been the biological case and my having on the whole pretty average genes sans interesting mutations, I cannot grow a beard or any kickass sideburns. This makes me a little sad, but I have found ways to compensate. Also of course, it means I never have to shave, so I feel that the scales remain balanced.
Half the reason I love this Anthony Peto hat is that it flattens the earpuffs of my hair into sideburny face-clingers. As seen here, this allows me to spiritually bump fists with some of my favourite stylish fictional characters. Let’s give it up for Wolverine, The Cap’n and old Wooden Sword*! And Anthony Peto. ‘Preciate it, fella!
*Characters belong to Marvel, World Leaders Entertainment (I think? Publick and Hammer, anyway) and Hiroyuki Takei, NOT ME!
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:
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?
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.
Bottom half: 50s vintage skirt, DewberryVintage @ etsy // department store tights // Gabor shoes
Today I have nothing to say! I am watching vintage Buffy (no Willow! No Xander! STOP KISSING!) and feeling very full. I think all I need now.. is some hot chocolate. I even have tiny marsh mallows to put upon it.
Yes, it is a work outfit. You can tell by the shoes.
Catching sight of this article whilst researching an upcoming post (no, really; just because I haven’t done what I’ve said I will yet doesn’t mean I won’t), “Boris rescued by feminists” I thought how absurd that sounds, as if we were some sort of species. Well, we aren’t, obviously.
I always thought those This is what a feminist looks like shirts were a bit ridiculous, but.. then again, I used to think that “feminism” was a bit ridiculous. How we grow!
Naturally, in the headline vein, my title is misleading. It is really only one door, repeated. And actually I only mimed knocking on it. But then AGAIN, I do fairly often knock on doors. So the title stands*.
*Not literally! In this case..
ETA: I just noticed that one might misunderstand my facial illustrations as a statement re: mentioned feminism. They aren’t, I just like to draw on my face for a) privacy and b) practice. I drew these two before I started thinking about what I would write today.
In London on the day before Halloween, my Dad and I took a stroll about Brick Lane whilst waiting for two o’clock. I dipped a toe into each Rockit, but I was just not feeling the garment warrior spirit. So, we mosey’d on. Enticed through a door by a record taped to the wall outside, I was more enthused by the vintage-and-crafts stall-based sellers but still not expecting to part with my coinage.. UNTIL..
I saw the Holy Grail, and I understood that I had always been searching for it and just never realised.
Oh goodness, this is the best bit of memorabilia EVER. The lady selling mentioned that she’d never seen the like elsewhere, which I certainly hadn’t either, and in my jubilance (o hey, a pun!) at my purchase I nodded happily and said “and I do love the Queen!”. To which she laughed, with her whole face. I feel it was a delighted sort of laugh.
I wear it non-ironically. I am pro-monarchy. I am also pro-having a government, but Royalty, despite or because of how much it must suck to be born into that life, is important. Basically I do believe that a human can live up to the precedent set by Robin Hobb’s Queen Kettricken. I believe in duty and figureheads and all sorts.
If Michael Graves can be a Republican punk..
The news part of the exciting is actually not well-described by “exciting”. Pff. The news is, I have decided to become a video reviewer of stuff on the internet. But not the cool kind; I am going to review books for children and “young adults” and talk about why the author is a tool for writing books that will make the readers a) cross or b) jerks. Hurraaay! I am the new morals police of literature! Goodness me, I am coming across conservative in this post, huh?
Really though, a lot of fiction that is otherwise good is littered with sexism, racism and/or ablism, and that shit is not what we want to be building the minds and imaginations of the people of the future with. Also, I have been reading the books my mum ordered for her class to test them before she releases them into the wilds of a primary school classroom, and one of them was so lazy, so offensively uncreative and barren of effort or care that my beloved and I both agreed that we could not with good conscience allow it to be read by kids. No jest. Reading is awesome, adventure novels are awesome, they should be better than they are.
So. Look forward to that? I have six pages of written review for Anthony Horowitz’ Raven’s Gate, which is up first. Read it? It’s good.. except for a few little things.
1. Say Thank You and give a link to the presenter of the award
2. Share “10 Honest Things” about myself
3. Present this award to 7 others whose blogs I find brilliant in content and/or design, or those who have encouraged me.
4. Tell those 7 people that they have been awarded HONEST SCRAP and inform them of these guidelines.
Amy Claire has given me an award. Nice! So I guess I have to follow the rules now.
Thanks Amy! :D
Honest things:
1) Right now I am watching Sarah Haskins episodes I’ve seen before in bed at half-past midnight lounging alone in a double bed that needs the sheets changing.
2) This does not depress me; it makes me feel like I am awesome and a character I would enjoy were I to read me.
3) I use a nail file on the skin around my nails
4) If I don’t do that, I feel a great compulsion to gnaw at the sides of my nail beds. Gross, right? I used to make them bleed.
5) I like to sleep on wet hair, because the shape it makes in the morning is an adventure
6) I’m not scared about the future, on the whole (obviously I am scared of hypothetical disasters, but I don’t *expect* them to happen)
7) I stopped watching Peep Show when Channel 4 showed Polanski’s Oliver Twist last week.
8) I got really, really indignant at the movie Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Fuck that noise. Why is it that a Victorian novel which includes characters actually saying that women’s brains can’t take the strain of things like those of men can is more feminist that a movie based on that novel made after three waves of publically identified feminism?
9) Also, Dracula looked flipping ridiculous in it.
10) And the ending was shit.
Er, I’m gonna have to think further on who to re-award this to.. watch this space, right? Thanks again, Amy!
I have always felt, in my heart, that I was a punk. Which is still true. But being a punk means that I get to do what I want, which means that I can also be glam. Which is lucky, because i am.
Running in platform shoes is why non-flat shoes were invented.
I saw Velvet Goldmine for the first time when I was about fourteen or fifteen, on the recommendation of some online friend/heroes and I cannot say it wasn’t influential. I love this music, I love this colour, the sequins and glitter and satin and velvet, layers flares and precision artifice, it’s all so intent but also-all-so winged.
It helps that the movie’s such a character piece. It’s costumed spectacularly because as a whole it is such a story. A whole, rather than a plot that is accented.
My very favourite thing about glam is that is ultimate opulence for about fifty pence. I’m sure a lot of the costumes could/did cost loads (especially then) but they don’t have to (especially now). I like the fan-wear as much as the star-wear; all those kids in their trailing corduroy and stretched out graphic t-shirts and raggedy boas and textured jackets. Any old scarf tied interestingly. Lipgloss off of magazines!
I want a wide-striped tailored three-piece suit so badly. Flared trousers, wide collar, nipped waist.
IllustratorClaire: Twenty-two 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. For portfolio, click the logo below!
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!
