LIMBIC FIRE | fashion : design : art : music

more is more

2011-10-16T08:34:00.000-07:00

blackened silver and black diamonds.

armenta at neimans

pimp my wardrobe with O'verlays

2011-10-09T18:07:00.000-07:00

Latest project: PIMPed Hemnes wardrobe from IKEA.

Here's the recipe:

Take one plain vanilla wardrobe...

Hemnes wardrobe from IKEA.

add

6 O'verlays in Caci by wood-gluing to front.

TiteBond II Premium is good for this.

After the glue dries, paint the O'verlays and the rectangle around them

in the same white tone in a FLAT finish.

Swap the boring handles for brass rings from Lee Valley.

Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy.

Ta DAAAA!!

i've been sorta busy...

2011-08-17T20:42:00.000-07:00

This is a recent project where I hacked the IKEA Malm [I know, BIG YAWN, huh?]...

by adding some miter-cut half-inch gold-painted molding that I wood-glued to the drawers.

And, TA DAAAA!

Now I have a special spot to stash my knickers and other lingerie items.

#2 Project...I forgot to take a BEFORE pic, but just imagine this in a really dark wood.
Then, PRESTO!

Get some Valspar/Signature semi-gloss in Great White Way, lots of fine sandpaper for between-coats sanding, then Voila!

ciao babies!

naissance, represented by joey maighread

2010-05-16T12:45:00.000-07:00

i am an ellipsis,
a potential
a blurred sentence ending
spoken of when the men have cleared
and the women attempt the mending

[suspended in balmy brine, held safe in my resistance
buoy the imminent exit, without proof of existence]

I’m a parentheses,
split helix curves
defined by disconnection
spoken of, in hushed tones and nods
a subject for closer inspection

[stem the blood, stay that river, this tide will leave me at bay
the dark raft sails into the harsh light, surges compelling the way]

I’m an apostrophe,
represented
a wraith between, vapor white
spoken of when the men have gone
and the women brave the night

Spillway Review
July, 2004

good deal hunting

2010-03-31T20:59:00.000-07:00

I've been busy hunting and hoarding for the re-decoration project. Most of the treasures pictured are in transit from all parts of the globe [which explains the crappy quality of some pix pulled from screen shots]. So far, this is the haul but the search continues...

Just for the glam factor.

Italian bombe chest...almost had to arm wrestle for this one!

Lagoon colors in velvet and silk. Detail of chinoiserie. The vase is a Murano in the
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BLUE since Tiffany's.

There are two of these vintage Chinoiserie table lamps and I rewired both.

I'm not sure about rewiring this one; it looks complicated. I love the lotus and leaves design. And, it's HUGE! Approximately three feet tall.

Modern and elegant candlesticks.

If you see one of these, email me?

GUEST AUTHOR: Mrs D. loose ends, rants, and the right to taser baby talkers

2010-03-16T18:44:00.000-07:00

Hellooooo dear readers! Mrs. Dalrymple here. Joey is quite busy with work [poor dear, she must work] and she asked me to fill in. She hasn't posted in a while and I blame the JPGaultier\Target collaboration.
Oh. My. GOD! What a steaming pile of SHITE!
I mean REALLY, darlings, do I have to elaborate? Every piece I picked up felt like it was recycled from a polyvinyl table cloth. ICK! If I want to find the cheapest clothes ever created, there are tons of shitty, strip mall stores one can visit.

I almost lost the will to shop...until the other day when I thought I'd hit Barney's to see what was new. There was a BABYVOICETALKER in the store and she seemed to be stalking me; BVT and her friend were within earshot for my entire Barney's experience [which lasted ten minutes thanks to BVT annoying the hell out of me]. I texted my attorney [aka DG*c*] to inquire about my rights as a citizen faced with a BVT. A LOUD BVT.
"May I SHOOT her?" I asked.
DG*c* texted back that I could not shoot a BVT.
What jury would convict me? I wondered. My defense team could just show a Paris Hilton video with AUDIO [PH is a notorious BVT].
"May I TASER her?" I ventured.
Apparently not.
"Can I PINCH her really hard and write the phone number for the nearest speech therapist on her with a black Sharpie?" We are still pondering the legality on that one. BVT's beware.

Ciao, darlings!
~ Mrs. D

hey sailor!

2010-03-02T22:59:00.000-08:00

I've been stalking the mean streets of eBay all night, working on the house transformation, and trying not to get cyber-mugged.
Despite my obsession with home decor, I did remember that I am still looking for the 'just right' French sailor top. I've looked everywhere. Then, a light bulb flashed above my freakishly-large head [that was for you, p8n]: I can just steal it from the boys. I found this Saint James for JCrew...

Image via JCrew

Speaking of boys who wear French sailor tops, Jean Paul Gaultier is designing for Target. I know—betcha never thought you'd hear a sentence that included JPG and Target, huh? [P.S. we are NOT saying "Tarjay," since realitystarsoccermomswitheffeduphairdo's use that word. That's for you, dg*c*.] So, let's all hold hands and say a little prayer that the collection—debuting 03/07—has some fabric selections that are not completely ODIOUS and don't feel like recycled tires. One or two natural fibers, please?!

Image via Target

This jacket caught my eye [sorry for the crappy pic quality]. Regina, do me a favor? If you get there before me and the jacket is a softish leather, hide a medium in the maternity wear section so I can scoop it up later? Thanks--xo/jm

lagoon blues, tangerine, and saffron

2010-02-28T17:00:00.000-08:00

My posting has been lacking due to my obsession with re-decorating the dining room [lagoon blues and greens] and the bedroom [hot red pepper, tangerine, and saffron].

The sources of my inspiration and obsession make up a long list but here are a few of my frequently-stalked faves: 2Modern, Apartment Therapy, Design My World, Desire To Inspire, Fabric[dot]Com, JJ Locations UK, Jonathan Adler, Kelly Wearstler, Lamps Plus, Living Etc – Gallery, Marie Claire Maison, Sarah Dorio, Style Swoon, The Selby, Tim Beddow, and of course, eBay.

And, now for the visual aids portion of my little slideshow...

images via tim beddow

images via jonathan adler

images via sarah dorio

big C, little C, what begins with C?

2010-02-26T06:31:00.000-08:00

Campbell's Charli-C clogs come curiously close in comparison to charming Chanels currently clunking on catwalks.

Jeffrey Campbell for Nordstrom

AM ride with my bitch

2010-02-20T22:14:00.000-08:00

Saturday morning — we're off to the groomers before I go to work.

Essentials for the AM cruise: a full arsenal of Chapstick--the Skittles flavors are the best! And, this is the very first iPod ever made. I bought this one in 1954.

This is the BEFORE-the-bath sad girl from the back seat. [Note the sun and palm trees; the windows were down, too. Sorry, East Coast.]

Details of my office and Steve Madden boots.

And, this is the AFTER-the-groomers-happy face. [I am sooooo pretty. You WISH you could rock a pink bow like I do.]

Fall2010 RTW collection from Gwen Stefani/L.A.M.B

2010-02-18T12:47:00.000-08:00

Well, apparently fashion week in NYC was fantastic. I wasn't there and I was barely able to catch up on the blahgs because I've been so busy. [Yesssssssss, I am bitching about my self-imposed crazy schedule again. Hey, if I can't tell you--my most favoritist reader--then, who am I gonna tell?]
I was able to drool vicariously through a plethora of photos and came upon the Fall2010 RTW collection from Gwen Stefani/L.A.M.B. I just want to know: what the hell is in the water in Anaheim, CA?! How can one person be so talented and creative across so many different contexts?
I couldn't narrow it down so these are all my favorites...
PS-anyone know how I can get me some of those strap-on bangs? I need a reminder of how bad I look in fringe, without the commitment.

images via style.com

punch drunk grinning soul

2010-02-16T17:59:00.000-08:00

Flogging Molly "Punch Drunk Grinning Soul" with PSA

Flogging Molly | MySpace Music Videos

FAQ in the form of 25 + things about me

2010-02-14T08:45:00.000-08:00

1. blogs are a hothouse for colossal, blooming narcissistic endeavors, like this list. anywho, here we go…

2. i have penis envy, in the original connotation (which is probably different than what most people think of), which means that i envy the physical power males have. i dream of being strong enough to punch someone’s lights out and to run faster than all the boys in my neighborhood. being able to pee while standing would be good, too.

3. despite #2, i really believe that GIRLS ARE THE MORE POWERFUL GENDER. if you don’t believe me, watch childbirth or a shoe sale at neimans. no boy could handle either one.

4. i have 5 or 6 tattoos—i’m not sure how to count them—in 4 languages. there will be more.

5. i’m afraid of heights, dragonflies, and cement mixers. i used to be afraid of needles but now i kinda like ‘em.

6. i’m in a gang. we are DG. that’s all i’m sayin.’ i won’t tell you what it means so don’t even ask.

7. i’m a motherfuckingpottymouth and i think that people who don’t swear are probably sexually repressed.

8. i won’t be shamed and if you attempt to manipulate me, it will backfire.

9. my ex-boyfriend is gay and i fully love and support him. be who you are—you only live once!

10. i believe that people who are anti-gay are defending against their own homosexual drive.

11. art owes no one and it is SACRED. it should be honest, uncensored, and provocative. ergo: i HATE wyland’s work (it’s NOT art—he’s just a fucking illustrator. seriously, c’mon!).

12. i like the word ergo…and other words: etiology, vapor, smite, malaria, etc. this week, my favorite word is equanimity.

13. i LOVE old people, babies/kids, and animals. i adore cats, dogs, and elephants.

14. in my work, i’ve seen many people die. i try to remember them all because they all mattered.

15. I LOVE to hide and then jump out, yell “RAHHH!!” to scare R. it works every time. sometimes i pee myself, i’m laughing so hard.

16. i have 2 mothers.

17. when i had P, it was the moment i was sure that to protect her, i could kill someone.

18. i like P. if i were in high school, i would be friends with her.

19. i want to be in a high speed chase on southern cali freeways, driving a big, yellow school bus and shooting paintballs out the window.

20. poor grammar or misspelled words annoy the bloody hell out of me.

21. racism and bigotry are unacceptable. period.

22. i hate, hate, hate black licorice!

23. I LOVE shoes; they make my heart jump for joy. it’s the first thing i look at on males and females. they are the windows to the soul. style is crucial and it isn't determined by a price tag.

24. i’ve had the same bestie [dg*C] since 7th grade, which is when she tried to bogart my fruit juice. she can still make me laugh my ass off and we have code language that is indecipherable to others. she envies how tall i am. ;-) we made a bucket list and it’s pretty wicked. careful, there’s room for more.

25. mani’s and pedi’s, AT LEAST once a fortnight. i never miss.

26. my favorite places on earth so far: library at trinity college in dublin, tea room at the musée d’orsay in paris, fairhaven cemetery in santa ana, most frank lloyd wright buildings, small, dark clubs and listening to punkrock or irish or punky-irish music.

27. i have a career that has nothing to do with fashion. it is separate from this blog, so i don't talk about it here.

28. i usually respond to rules by breaking them. i am oppositional at baseline. so, that was my 25—give or take—random things.

genius of love [happy Vday-xo]

2010-02-13T20:12:00.000-08:00

Tom Tom Club - New Music - More Music Videos

peace to you, AMc. it was much too soon.

2010-02-11T16:36:00.000-08:00

[blogger's ink] rebecca, from clothes horse

2010-02-09T18:53:00.000-08:00

Rebecca [The Clothes Horse blog], blogger and artist, sent these pix. They're martlet birds that she drew herself. They almost look like little wings. Sweet!

Thanks for sharing your ink, Rebecca! xo/jm

how's a girl 'sposed to jeuge up a lab coat?

2010-02-08T19:28:00.000-08:00

Hi, my name is Joey and I am a poser. Although I am a lover of five-inch platforms and glam vintage gear, the stuff I go to MOST of the time—Monday through Friday, at least—is rather practical and *sigh* functional. Lemme explain.

At work, I must have two things: comfy shoes and a lab coat with deep pockets.
I run up and down several flights of stairs at a large hospital, and I would collapse without my Cole-Haan Mary Janes with the extra-cushiony-comfort Nike sole construction. Or my ballet flats or Frye boots.

As much I would love to rock a silk chiffon caftan, it just won't fit under the lab coat.

Which brings me to my point: how's a girl 'sposed to jeuge up a lab coat?
One answer: Jewelry.

In order of length: Ila&I gold locket, DIY semiprecious-stone
lariat wrap, Miriam Haskell vintage coin necklaces.
The DIY necklace is just a 3-foot long beaded silk thread
[I used turquoise, coral, onyx, peridot, and garnet with gold
spacer beads] with a loop at one end.
The Haskell coins were an eBay victory.

Invicta Men's Anatomic Collection Russian Diver Watch

with several links removed because it was frickin' HUGE.

Gold stack rings from Ippolita and vintage

pink sapphire and diamond ring.

[blogger's ink] saint kathleen

2010-02-06T15:14:00.000-08:00

This is from blogger Saint Kathleen aka my mama. She explained the tat to me...
"This is called “the glyph.” The three divisions stand for lots of things, starting from the top: Spirit, Mind, Body; seed, soil, plant; idea, law, reality; etc. But they all together represent the principle of creativity in all its glorious variety. The “V” represents the direction of manifestation. You start with an idea, you apply the laws that govern its manifestation, and it manifests in reality. On a metaphysical level, this is how a human can make harmony a reality. (It does not mean, as your little Auntie Mary said, that I’ve joined The Order of the Vagina.) If you carry the analogies out to the end, you could say the glyph represents God.

It is purposely off center so it is most visible to me, not the public, and it reminds me of who I am on the planet and what my job is: finding out how things work so I can bring harmony into being on all levels of life—physical, mental, emotional/social, spiritual. Heady stuff!

It is celadon green because I love that color. I brought a celadon plate to the tat artist so he could get the color right."

saint-kathleen.blogspot.com

max azria ss10: we LOVE you!

2010-02-04T19:53:00.000-08:00

Every year, on my ex-husband's birthday, I buy a little gift FOR ME to celebrate the divorce. This screams my name. He woulda HATED this; we LOVE it even more! I think I'll get it with super-duper-extra-speedy shipping added.

Maybe these, too?

Images via bcbg.com/

NEEDSUPPLY.com

2010-02-01T20:53:00.000-08:00

Need vs. want...need vs. want...definitely NEED.
NEEDSUPPLY.com

Cross Front Drape Tank, shoes-Jeffrey Campbell,

BleachBlack Dickweed Nail Varnish
images via needsupply.com

spike ride

2010-01-31T14:29:00.000-08:00

Love photog Tommy Ton and his POV. This one is from Paris couture week.

Image via Style.com

[show me yours] gaelic ink

2010-01-30T17:18:00.000-08:00

Cuimhnich air na daoine o'n d'thanig thu is a ScotGaelic phrase that means 'Remember the people from who you came.' My tat is spelled the IrishGaelic way and there's a shamrock over the 'i.'

< Speaking of wee shamrocks, my bestie has one, too.

< Nan wanted to fuse her Irish and Filipino heritage. The inscription below the Celtic knot shamrock means 'lucky one' in Tagalog. {This is a fresh one! YOW!}

Doillon in vanessabruno...an amazing visual.

2010-01-30T07:04:00.001-08:00

rip her to shreds

2010-01-28T21:09:00.000-08:00

What I am NOT WEARING TO COACHELLA.

2010-01-27T20:48:00.000-08:00

Coachella. Coachella. Coachella. Everyone I know is going to Coachella. Well, I'm not.
I just don’t have it in me to suffer the endless crowds, the lines to the horizon for a turn in the biohzard toilets, and the parking nightmare. Until someone gets me a helicopter and an all-backstage pass, I am not going to Coachella.
This is what I'm NOT WEARING TO COACHELLA.
The Hunter wellies are great for not slogging through mud and the sequin Haute Hippie shorts are perfect for not shaking my ass to all the great music.
Since the weather will be...
[A] hotter than the surface of the sun during the day, I won't be donning a pair of Marni sunnies and I won't need my parasol to shield from the relentless UV's, and,
2. Sub-Zero freezing degrees in the PM, I won’t be layering the Alexander Wang Oil Slick cardi.
I am not a fan of inhuman climate fluctuations.
I won't be going to the first day/night and I won't be seeing Echo & the Bunnymen, Grace Jones [she's still alive?], Jay-Z [with the Mrs.?], Public Image Limited [dude, seriously?], The Specials, or Vampire Weekend.
Nope. Not gurna do it. But, you kids have a great time. And, post your pictures. I'll be watching from the couch.

Alexander Wang-Oil Slick Zip Cardigan, Preen Line-Tear tiered cotton tank, Haute Hippie-Jersey sequin mini shorts, Alexander Wang-Diego Bucket Bag in Camel, Hunter-Original tall Wellington boot, Marni-sunglasses

[show me yours] katie murphy's boy

2010-01-26T06:38:00.000-08:00

Rusty Updegraff's tattoo on the back of his neck comes from a memory that he shared with me about his mama, Katie Murphy Updegraff:
Rusty said, "When I was upset or sad or needed a little boost of self esteem she would hold my face in her hands and put her face up to mine and say 'Hey, YOUR KATIE MURPHY'S BOY and don't forget it!' As if that was the highest compliment I could get...which it was!"

Send me pics of your tattoo?

Email me joeymaighread [at] gmail [dot] com

F@#!'ing gorgeous

2010-01-25T19:27:00.000-08:00

Loving me some Wendy Brandes Jewelry.
Can jewelry be BEAUTIFUL and SMART? Wendy Brandes Jewelry is both. Wendy B, inspired by historical female figures, integrates each design with a story or irony or humor [see the Swear Rings].

Images via Wendy Brandes Jewelry

[show me yours] dance with the passion of a voodoo priestess

2010-01-24T17:39:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite tattoos wraps my bestie's wrist: Danse avec la passion d'une pretesse vaudou [dance with the passion of a voodoo priestess], which is followed by the dragon kanji.
Click on the pic to enlarge.

Send me pics of your tattoo?

Email me joeymaighread [at] gmail [dot] com

rick owens s/s2010

2010-01-24T08:09:00.000-08:00

Androgynous and apocalyptic; the nihilist in me loves this. These are just a few pieces from the Rick Owens women’s collection for S/S 2010 and the men’s is equally beautiful [just a tad more gender-blurring]. Rick Owens, Rick Owens, Rick Owens.

images via luisaviaroma

>925

2010-01-22T21:36:00.000-08:00

For some time, I've collected Taxco Mexican sterling silver. It's a high-grade silver and the designs are endless. I've just started picking up some Japanese silver bracelets [from eBay] to add to the collection.
I love the white tones of silver and Taxco designs are known for this.
Taxco designs range from art deco to floral/nature-inspired to simpler geometric shapes.

A newish line known for the color of its silver is Ippolita and there is something so appealing about the simplicity of her designs. I will never tire of these hoops.

show me yours...

2010-01-20T21:53:00.000-08:00

I'm thinking about ink...as in a new tattoo.
Send me pics of yours to post? Or other cool tattoos?
Email me joeymaighread {AT} gmail {DOT} com
Love this one... researchtattoos.blogspot.com
and this one... http://www.tattoo-font.com/

[unless someone else is named, the ink is mine]

< Dragon Kanji

< Three stars and anurati [love],

< dG/c has a winged running shoe in memory of her father who instilled her love of running.

< Nan wanted to fuse her Irish and Filipino heritage. The inscription below the Celtic knot shamrock means 'lucky one' in Tagalog. {This is a fresh one! YOW!}

< On my sister Katie's very lower back. She explains...
"That particular tat is on my back, right above my tush. It is my divorce tattoo which is my own personal spin on The Phoenix Rising From the Ashes. We call it 'Assention, The Fairy Rises from the Asses' thus the placement of the tat."

xenon-a new warrior princess

2010-01-18T17:45:00.000-08:00

This is en route from SoleStruck. Now all I need is a little spring weather.
Jeffrey Campbell-Xenon

the pile, long beach's monumenta

2010-01-17T16:02:00.000-08:00

Reminiscent of French artist Christian Boltanski's Monumenta installation, currently in the Nave of the Grand Palais, Paris, there is Southern California monument simply known as The Pile. The Pile is a mound of thrift-store-worthy garments that covers the back patio of La Bomba Vintage clothing store on 4th Street, in the LBC. The Pile is six feet high--on a good day--and must be scaled, then mined, for its dirt-cheap vintage treasures. If you have the heart to tackle this monster, remove your shoes and start climbing.

all that scratch is making me itch

2010-01-16T22:07:00.000-08:00

hot pants.

2010-01-15T17:22:00.000-08:00

LOVE the combination of skinny, SHIMMERY leg and slouchy top. These are from the ready-to-wear collection for spring from Balmain. Kinda rock star, huh?

images via style.com

very pretty. very lady.

2010-01-14T07:01:00.000-08:00

When I was little, my mother was a fan of Nina Ricci, but it was nothing like this. Designer British-born Peter Copping has evolved this French house into the best of both cultures. It is trés pretty, lady, with a dose of wit. The collection is beautiful and these five SCREAMED my name. Love the LENGTH [being a lady means no flashing the hooha, Britney]; love the DRAPINESS and the muted palette. It's all so sexy in an aloof, don't-talk-to-me-until-you-have-a-real-job-Loser way. Can you hear me clapping from the Left Coast? Yum! xo/jm

images via style.com

vintage is the new black

2010-01-11T17:37:00.000-08:00

For those of you who asked me to post on something that fits a slim budget, check out this blogger/eBay entrepreneur's vintage finds at her blog:
http://noirohiovintage.blogspot.com/

or her eBay store:
http://stores.ebay.com/NOIROHIO-VINTAGE

There are some really great looking pieces...check out both. xo/jm

images via vintageisthenewblack blog

thanks, darlings! from sassy joey -- xo

2010-01-10T14:06:00.000-08:00

I am SO honored and in such BEAUTIFUL company.
Thanks, I LOVE it! mwahh!
[click on the link to get the whole story...]
http://girltalk-online.com/girltalk/

wanna take you higher

2010-01-09T07:10:00.000-08:00

Yes, please! Love a shoe that makes me taller than six feet and isn't yet-another-black-shoe. The rumors are this one from Ashish is debuting first week of February at TopShop.

image via style.com

Digging 4 Fire Series :: Interview with Pamela Walencewicz

2010-01-07T18:24:00.000-08:00

Rome, If She Wants To...

how did you get into travel photography? on accident? by design?

I’m really just a late bloomer. From infancy, I’ve had the beautiful luxury of being able to travel often. As an adolescent, I developed a fascination for photography. It would have been a natural progression to pursue photojournalism academically, but for various reasons I didn't. Instead, I continued traveling and inconsistently collected mediocre snapshots. All things photography changed in my early 30s, when I acquired a secondhand, manual Minolta film camera which launched me on an inevitable journey of learning and experimentation with technique and composition. Thus began the latent passion merge and shooting local architecture morphed into shooting architecture, urban scenes, people, etc. wherever I continued to travel. Then, a few night classes at community college and poof, here we are.

what does photography provide you? the final product? money? positive feedback? awards?
Money? Hmm...one day, I hope. Awards? Well, my official accolades are few to-date, but I am very rich with praise from biased family & friends. Quite simply, photography provides me with the feeling that I have created something unique--even if it’s a family portrait or a rendering of a popular landmark, no two pictures are alike because no two photographers are alike. More importantly however, photography, particularly portraiture, provides me with a deep sense of accomplishment. A wonderful thing called fulfillment occurs when I see the happy faces of my family and friends admiring shots of their children or loved ones.

do you think the purpose of working is for money or for a fulfilling life?
Money alone does not fulfill me; whereas traveling with my camera, though not yet an income-generator, fulfills me well beyond any job I’ve had. One day, I hope, I will blossom late again and my joined passions will create a lovely income.

does the photography bring you joy? frustration? sense of accomplishment?
All of the above! But the frustration is very minimal and only happens when inexperienced developers ruin a negative or when I don’t trust my instincts and miss a great shot.

what’s the best part of travel photography?
I love the excitement of capturing something from somewhere else, whether it’s the faces of Cosplay girls in Harajuku, a canal in Venice or a simple Hawaiian plumeria. Everyday things to people in foreign lands are treasures to me. Plus, it’s very amusing getting stares from locals while I’m aiming my lens at their street signs, brick walls and other minutiae none of them would ever dare bother to photograph.

what’s the worst part?
Going through security at the airport and holding up the screening line while the speedy TSA Agents hand check each roll of film. And, when my camera battery dies right as I am firing off a much-anticipated shot.

any other things to mention about your photography?
I wish more people liked close-ups of themselves. When a model allows me to capture his/her emotions, it’s more beautiful than any physicality.

contact: pamelawalencewicz@yahoo.com

all photos © pamela walencewicz 2010.
click on photo to enlarge. seriously, do it. it's way better, bigger.

frye, baby!

2010-01-06T20:50:00.001-08:00

Suddenly, running around for 12 hours seems much easier. Love these badass Fryes...

lady sovereign ~ love me or hate me

2010-01-06T20:41:00.000-08:00

big ups to brooklyn

2010-01-05T08:01:00.000-08:00

I have a confession...I'm not good at sharing. When I find a new, sort-of-under-the-radar design resource... well, I may not be super forthcoming on the who/what/wear. Yes, I have been known LIE to keep my sources for my own. Case in point: my beloved Wyeth bag from Hayden-Harnett. Until now, when asked where I got this rockstar of a bag, I have either replied that it came from a garage sale or Walmart. But, it's time to come clean and [GAG!] share.

Hayden-Harnett is located in Brooklyn, NY and is not very high profile on the Left Coast...yet. It's a matter of time before they blow-up. H-H have been consistently producing bags, small leather goods, and accessories. Now, they're designing apparel. The collections are small but very well edited.
My newest obsession are the high-waisted shorts. These are so versatile--wear 'em with tights or bare legs. They come in wool and suede [YUM!]. I'm also LOVING the turnlock-fastener military coat with leather shoulder insets and a colorblock sweater dress called Yoko.
So, BIG UPS to Brooklyn--West Coast loves East Coast. xo/jm

photos via Hayden-Harnett

va-va-vooom

2010-01-03T19:21:00.000-08:00

Blame it on my obsession with old movies or my bucket list item [start a bar fight in Las Vegas], but vintage is on my mind. Not that I have anywhere to wear a bombshell dress at the moment, but I can’t resist the couture at the sort-of-new-to-Etsy Timeless Vixen Vintage, and I am a firm believer in buy the dress and the event will magically appear. Beverly Hills-based Timeless Vixen Vintage has sizzling hot femme fatale fashion, from cocktail-attire and bridal, to burlesque and boudoir, including labels: House of Worth, Emilio Pucci, Pierre Cardin, Mr. Blackwell, and Don Loper.

photos via timeless vixen vintage

stingrays by joey maighread

2010-01-02T15:04:00.000-08:00

Every spring, the lifeguards come to our school. They show slides in the auditorium to scare the crap out of us about bad things in the ocean.
Jellyfish stings: don’t rub sand on it because it’ll make it worse.
Stingrays: shuffle your feet in the sand so you don’t get jabbed with that devil tail.
Rip tides: swim to the sides or you’ll get pulled out to Cuba.
Sharks: try not to look like a baby seal.
Whatever.
I’ve seen those slides seven times. I’ve lived in Lucas Beach all my life and from my bedroom window, I’ve seen the ocean every single day. [continued...link below]

With the ocean, you never know. It might wave to you like it’s saying, Hey! Let’s have some fun. Or, the rip might grab you and take you somewhere so far away that you’re lost forever. You can’t think about it too much.
I’ve been swimming in the ocean since I was a baby. My mom taught me how to swim in the bay. My dad taught my brothers and me how to surf when we were like two-years old, or something.
I have my own board. My brother Kevin—he’s nearly in college—gave it to me. It’s pretty long, but I get waves.
Sometimes, when we’re out in the water, we see dolphins.
Dolphins stick together. They care for the young and the ones who get hurt or sick. If you see a dolphin, you can bet there’re no sharks waiting around because a dolphin will beat a shark’s ass. And the shark knows it.
There’s no way to tell if there’re stingrays around, though. You just have to walk carefully.
A stingray stung Phillip Gunderson’s brother right in front of our house. (Get this. Phillip Gunderson’s brother’s name is Ray. How totally random!) My dad went out to help and told Ray to stick his foot in a bucket. Ray was all yelling and rolling around on the sand.
I didn’t really know what was happening because I was only like six then. Kevin told me that the stingray’s tail has poison in it and can swell a foot to the size of a football. Then, the poison goes up through the leg. He said, “It really hurts a guy’s you-know-what’s.”
You-know-what’s? I wanted to ask what he was talking about, but I decided that it would be better to pretend like I knew. Kevin gets all freaked if I ask too many questions, so I just nodded.
“It makes a guy’s nuts get all inflamed and junk,” my other brother, Sam, explained. I still didn’t really understand. I could tell from the expressions on my brothers’ faces that flamed nuts were serious.
Back then, I didn’t know a lot of stuff about biology because I didn’t have Health Ed yet. I had three older brothers but I’d never seen any of them naked, thank God. Now that I’m in seventh grade, I know what nuts are, I’m just not sure what they’re for. We’ll probably study that next semester. Whatever.
Melissa Kohlberg—Mel—is my best friend. She told me all about nuts and said that kicking a guy in the nuts could kill him. DAMN— good to know.
In Health Ed, we mostly learned about our own bodies, like getting periods and junk. Menstruation. My teacher, Mrs. Dana, loves—LOVES—that word. Every sentence, she was all: menstruation, menstruation, menstruation. Mrs. Dana is usually OK; she’s pretty cool except for that word. Mel and I call it our “period.” It’s way less creepy.
Mel got her period already. She knows a bunch of stuff and when I ask her where she learned it, she tells me “that’s a no-talk-topic.” Or she doesn’t answer me at all.
She hasn’t lived in Lucas Beach all her life. She came from Montana or Minnesota or somewhere. That’s where her real dad lives. Her mom married Ron, so now Mel and her sister have a baby brother.
Mel is afraid to go in the ocean and that lifeguard’s slides didn’t help. I told her to not think about it, but she still won’t go in.
Mel’s new dad, Ron, owns the Lucas Beach Pizza and on Saturdays we get free cokes and chili fries. Ron is nice when other grown-ups are around. He smiles when he talks to us, but his eyes don’t. One time he touched my butt. It might have been an accident but I’m watching him. If he tries anything, I’ll kick him in the nuts. I mean it. Six years of soccer practice is going to come in handy, asshole.
On the boardwalk, there’re tons of stores. Mel and I have a game we call the five-finger-free-for-all. We walk from one end of the boardwalk to the other. When we get to the end, we go into the public bathroom handicapped stall, and compare who lifted more junk. Mel usually wins.
One time, Mel had stuffed a bunch of jewelry up her sleeves, but she couldn’t reach a pair of earrings that were way up there, so she took off her sweatshirt to shake out the earrings. There were all these red marks across her left arm; they looked like scratches from a cat but Mel is allergic to cats. Some of the marks looked older and some looked new, like puffed-up red worms.
I said, hey, and pointed to her arm.
Mel looked really annoyed and put her sweatshirt back on. She forgot to pick up the earrings.
She didn’t talk for a while, then she told me that she did that to her arm, she’s trying to stop, and if I told her mom about it, she would tell my dad about me stealing.
I promised not to tell. I won’t, but I think maybe I should.
There are these girls at our school. Megan, Kelsey, and Kaitlyn. Megan and the K’s have also lived in Lucas Beach for their whole lives, just like me. Except that—unlike me—they are Little-Miss-Perfect turd faces, and they’re total bitches to Mel. Which is really retarded since she used to be friends with them, before she was my friend.
One thing about Mel that I haven’t mentioned is this: she’s the only girl in the seventh grade with boobs. Big boobs. Boys are always trying to hug her.
Megan and the K’s are jealous so they made up a rumor about Mel and this guy, Brandon. They were saying that Mel let Brandon do stuff to her. A big frickin’ lie and the whole school ate it with a spoon. Morons.
During homeroom, Kelsey asked Mr. Steralli if she could use the restroom. Two minutes later, I walked up to his desk and asked if I could go, too. He goes, “June, you know the rules. Wait until Kelsey gets back.”
I knew he was going to say that. Mr. Steralli is a huge dork and only wears blue clothes.
“Mr. Steralli, it’s my time of the month. I kind of have a heavy flow because I just started and...”
He practically slapped the hall pass in my hand and shoved me out the door. Guys do not—DO NOT—want to hear a word about menstruation. I mean, periods.
P.S. I made up the part about having my period.
In the restroom, I had a talk with Kelsey. I reminded her that she still sucks her thumb when she sleeps; I saw her do it when she spent the night at my house last month. It would be mega-embarrassing for her, if that were to get out. I’m just saying.
First she mad-dog stared at me. But then she told me about how Kaitlyn started the whole rumor about Mel. “Kaitlyn made up the whole thing because she likes Brandon. She’s jealous because she’s flat as a board and she stuffs her bra.”
I might have repeated the bra thing to a couple people.
I was going to tell Mel about how no one would be talking about her and Brandon anymore. But she stopped showing up at school for like a week. I called her house a zillion times. I rode my cruiser over to the pizza place on Saturday; she wasn’t around. I rode to all the places we hang out. I didn’t see her anywhere.
On Monday, I saw Mel and her mom coming out of the vice-principal’s office. No one was smiling.
The next day, Mel was in homeroom.
I was all, what’s up?
Mel said she had been going over to Brandon’s house for a week, while his mom was working. She said that they were just hanging out, having some beers, and some other stuff.
“Oh?” Lame response, but what could I say? I didn’t even know they were talking. I didn’t know Mel drank beers. Or that she did other stuff.
Mel started hanging out with Brandon after school and on the weekends. We were still friends but she was pretty busy so we didn’t talk as much.
I was busy, too. I was riding my cruiser, when I saw Mel on the boardwalk.
She said, “We should hang out this summer, go to the beach and junk.”
I said, “Yeah, we should.”
The next day, Mel just showed up on the beach in front of my house. I set my folding chair next to her’s and we watched the waves. The morning had been overcast, but it burned off and the sun was warm.
She had new cuts on her arm. Just the left one.
She said that she’s going to be moving back with her real dad to wherever. She told me that Ron had been doing stuff to her. When Mel found out he was touching her younger sister, she told her mom. Her mom went all ape-shit; there was all this screaming, crying, and throwing stuff. So now they’re moving back. But here’s what’s totally messed up, her mom is staying in Lucas Beach, with Ron the pervert. Unbelievable.
“Yeah, unFUCKINGbelievable.” A tear rolled out from under Mel’s sunglasses.
“Mel, let’s go swimming.”
Mel shook her head. She said that Lucas Beach was bad luck. She was going leave this place and she was never—NEVER—going to lay eyes on the Pacific, or this piece-of-shit place again. As long as she lived.
C’mon, I said.
“No way, I’ll probably step on a stingray.”
“You won’t,” I said. “Don’t think about it.”
“No, June. I’ll step on a stingray. Guaranteed, that’s how it goes. You’ve never been stung and you probably never will be.”
I started to shuffle into the water but Mel wouldn’t move. I could see shadows moving through the hollow of the waves. Dolphins.
She folded up her chair, saying she was going to take off. “Our plane leaves at 7:20.”
We promised to keep in touch; e-mail and call. She said that I could come visit her at her dad’s in Michigan.
People say that kind of stuff when they leave.
I told my mom what happened to Mel and her sister. Whenever we had lost soccer games or something, my mom would take us down to the water. She said that the salt in the ocean comes from all the happy tears ever cried and when you’re in the ocean, you’re in pure joy. Sounds like a load of crap, but it works. That’s just me.
The truth is, I didn’t want Mel to go in the ocean with me. I was glad she said no, because I think she may be right. Some people are for sure going to step on a stingray or get lost in the rip. And, some people don’t. One thing though, you can’t think about it too much.

###

for all of us in twenty-ten...

2010-01-01T09:07:00.000-08:00

Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music -- the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people. Forget yourself. ~ Henry Miller
Wishing you all the best in the coming year. xo/jm

there's never enough guinness

2009-12-28T21:04:00.000-08:00

For me, there is no greater fashion inspiration than Daphne Guinness.
I've had a girlie crush on her for years. She embodies glamour, wit, and style. We can even forgive the skunk-stripe hair [jazuz! we aren't still doing THAT, are we?] and the Children of the Corn stare. If I could choose just one person's closet, in the whole of fashiondom, it would be her's. From her endless collection of tranny heels, hats, and couture gowns to the treasure trove of breathtaking bags—and don't even get me started on the armor—love, love, love her forever.

love the pixies and this one especially...

2009-12-28T18:55:00.000-08:00

virgins, saints, & angels

2009-12-27T18:19:00.000-08:00

If I was stranded on a desert island and could only take one jewelry website with me, it would have to be Ylang|23.

The amazing “eye” at Ylang|23 is Joanne Teichman. She has put together a group of the most beautiful and creative jewelry designs found in one spot. The site has so many great artisans; it is mouth-watering gorgeousness. Joanne was kind enough to share images of my newest obsession: Virgins, Saints, and Angels.
VSA jewelry is based on design that pairs elements from the Vatican with “imagery and symbolism borrowed from life in Mexico.”
It is all so regal and I was lucky enough to find the San Benito Magdalena necklace under my tree, this Christmas. (Thanks to my bestie for that!)
xo/jm

what to wear to...the "just friends" lunch with the ex-whomever

2009-12-26T18:31:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, in the realm of romance, we are down-sized (aka: we break up). Then, at some point, there is the inevitable “just friends” lunch.
While we know that not every “friends” lunch is actually JUST A BOOTY CALL because one person is currently between hot dates, we can pretty much assume that someone is in need of some ego strokes. I mean, really, where better to get the much needed ego boost than from someone who has so little self regard that she will sit across the table from you and sip ice tea after her text messages were ignored for the past three months?
This lunch can often take on a great deal of meaning for at least one of the attendees (likely, the person who was dumped) and there is a ton of anxiety about what to wear.
Here are some helpful hints: First and foremost, do not look like you're trying or that you care. BEING OBVIOUS IS DEADLY. “Effortless” is your new mantra. With that in mind, bohemian style is a great go-to inspiration for moments like these.
For example, pair the winter white Haute Hippie-Hand Coiled Poncho with a slouchy pair of Thakoon-Twist Shorts. Carry a simple clutch like this Marc by Marc Jacobs birdie bag (Avoid wearing a bag that could tangle in the poncho fringe. The goal, you remember, is to appear carefree and EFFORTLESS). The bird is such a sweet touch and a reminder that you are now free as that little bird and much happier.
Add a great pair of platforms—with no less than 5-inch heels—and STAND UP STRAIGHT. Shown: Pelle Moda - Shantel Open Toe Platform Booties.
One last piece. The Bob charm, by Catherine Michiels, comes on a colorful silk ribbon and can be worn as necklace or bracelet. Bob symbolizes that life is short and the lotus on top of his head is a symbol that we are all just a work in progress and our mistakes are how we learn. Wrap it around your wrist and when your ex leans forward to take your hand, remember that YOU CHOOSE how you want to spend your time on this earth. Then, tell the wanker you’ve got to run. Ta-ta!
xo/j

pottymouth

2009-12-22T19:17:00.000-08:00

     “Good morning, dumb ass!” I waved a pudgy hand at our elderly neighbor as my mortified mother scooped me up and raced back into the house. It was the summer before I turned three. I was a potty-mouth-in-training, on the fast track to a bright future as a sailor or Dairy Queen assistant manager.
     My parents were of the literal mind that the beautiful noise of swearing warranted a mouth washing using the slimy bar of soap that sat on the edge of the bathroom sink. (This punishment never slowed my cussing but I have developed a raging germ phobia.)
     Most of what I learned about cussing, I learned in my own family where there were three levels of swearing: cute, intermediate, and straight-to-hell.
     My mother was a cute cusser and favored “hell’s bells” and “son of a biscuit.” We knew she was pushed to the edge when she brought out the abbreviated version of goddamn. As in, “How many times do I have to ask you kids to take out the G.D. trash?”
     Dad was an intermediate-level cusser. He was all over the basic words of swearing, and he frequently belted out a “Jesus H. Christ.” (He also avoided going to church with us; the nuns noted this technically put him in the “straight-to-hell” category.)
      I remember once, the two of us were cruising in the Rambler, Dad with a can of beer wedged between his knees. Someone ran a stop sign and he slammed on the brakes. His arm flew to the right to brace me (Who needs seatbelts when you’ve got a big, hairy arm?) and he spewed, “Fuck!”
      “What is THAT word?” I asked, somehow understanding that this never-before-heard exclamation was the king of all expletives. The F-word: noun, verb, and exclamation, all rolled into one. It’s like the Swiss Army knife of swearwords. I couldn’t wait to add this to my own lexicon.
     “I didn’t say anything,” he answered.
     “Yes, you did!” I pushed.
     “No, I swear.” He stood his ground and kept his eyes on the road. Was he smirking?!
     “I’m telling Mom.”
     He said it and we both knew it. Besides, now that beautiful F-bomb was mine and I was going straight to my neighbor, Edmond, to one-up his sorry ass.
     The master of the potty mouths was my Aunt Agnes. She was on a level that shot a soul whizzing past purgatory and directly to the devil. She swore with a stream of consciousness that is unrivaled in our family. Where my mother stopped to avoid confessing to a priest, or my father lied like any good parent, Agnes flew past these limits with her foot on the accelerator and the wind in her hair.
     My aunt lived in an ancient four-story home in Detroit with a rollercoaster in the back yard and eight children. She used to balance a cigarette on her bottom lip, which bounced while she talked, and rattled off all eight names of her children, in birth order. She swore without thought of consequence. She exposed me to some of my favorite phrases: “jumped-up Jimmy jackass,” “go piss up a fucking rope,” and “for Christ’s sake, that’s the drizzlin' shits!”
     I was a quick study. “Go piss up a fucking rope, Danny!” I yelled at my cousin who cut in front of me in the line for the aforementioned rollercoaster. My mother heard this and hauled me into the house. Hello, bar of soap.
     I developed my own views about swear words and I believed that holding back a cuss rant is like stifling a sneeze or an orgasm. It is healthier to express, than repress. In fact, I have questioned the sexual capacity for those who profess to have never resorted to dirty words.
     I used to think all that…until I had a child.
     Now, when I’m cut off while driving, I choke back my ape-shit rage. I edit myself with a split-second delay, “What the…the…fudge! Stupid driver!”
     “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” my toddler parroted from the backseat.
     I explain to her—in a rational way—that words are powerful and can hurt other’s feelings. Some words might make others upset. She stops immediately.
     This is so easy! Family cultures can change and my daughter is a testament to this. The chain of potty mouths has been broken and I have never resorted to the “mouth washing” abuse. Clearly, I have a more evolved parenting style than my parents.
----
     This morning, my daughter sang happily from her car seat, where she was strapped in like a Space Shuttle commander in the nine-point belting system. No hairy arm restraints for her.
     We stopped at our local coffee place. The barista greeted us with a happy wave and my little angel waved back.
     When my daughter was given her muffin, she said, “Please” and “Thank you” in all the right places. Then, she flashed a dimpled smile at the grandma-type who was standing in line behind us.
     As we were leaving, my little girl dropped her precious stuffed toy lamb, Abby.
     Grandma-type lifted it from the floor and handed Abby to my sweet girl who responded with, “Thank you!” and another big, heart-melting smile.
     “She’s lovely,” said the grandma, glowing.
     My daughter hugged her stuffed animal to her chest and scolded, “Abby, you a dumb ass!”
     Grandma-type’s face screwed up in a snarl; she snorted at me and started to say something about how she raised her children.
     I might’ve told her to go piss up a fucking rope.

###

If we took a holiday ~ took some time to celebrate...

2009-12-19T07:19:00.000-08:00

bootzilla. Last night of Hanukkah and/or one week until Christmas. Either way, it was a great party, but I'm exhausted and this is me stealing away for a little break.

suede thigh-high boots~Jeffrey Campbell; LBD~last season Banana Republic; coat~eBay vintage [Put down your red paint; it's faux cheetah.]; grey flannel passementerie clutch~vintage from my closet.

smile! Wishing you a peaceful and joyful holiday!

necklace ~ San Benito : Virgins, Saints and Angels @ Ylang|23; rings ~ Ippolita; tattoo ~ Kareem @ Newport Tattoo

Digging 4 Fire Series :: Interview with Rusty Updegraff

2009-12-18T17:11:00.000-08:00

Joey ::: So, how does a boy with a dream become the Auntie Mame of West Hollywood? What path have you taken?
Rusty ::: Right now I’m a club promoter by profession and somehow have been given the title of “Gay Godfather”. I’m also a restaurateur but without a restaurant at the moment! [Rusty owned restaurants 360 in Hollywood and Gozar in West Hollywood.] I promote club events that are different than the run-of-the-mill clubs, more like a supper-club with a New York/hipster/fashionista feel. We (my partners and I) try to encourage more fashionable stylish events that cater to a gay/mix crowd.

How did you get into this?
I used to throw parties at my apartment, which had a huge courtyard, and the parties grew bigger and bigger. I had close to 700 guests each time. [Not an exaggeration—these were epic events.] People still talk about those parties. So, it was a natural progression to start promoting club nights at venues and make money. Guess it was kind of an accident; a bit of a hobby that paid off!

What does this career provide you?
A living; freedom to explore other things I want to do. And yes, small-time, fleeting fame. Fame—if you want to call it that—comes from articles written about me and my events. My favorite was getting my club BEIGE written up in Vanity Fair! Definitely makes you popular, though that just comes with the territory. It’s like high school—the popular kid throws the parties. I definitely didn’t do it to be popular. Ok, modesty out the window, I was successful because I was popular and I got popular from my house parties but that wasn’t my intent.

Do you work primarily for money or for passion?
That’s a Catch 22. See, you need the money to survive. It’s stressful and distracting if your working and not making money. If you do something for just the fulfillment then I think that would be more of a hobby, which can be fulfilling. I believe that when you love what you do, you’ll have both—maybe not rich but satisfied.

Does your work bring you joy, frustration, a sense of accomplishment?
It does bring me joy. I rarely don’t feel like going to the club and I’m like a dog going to a dog park when I’m hosting my clubs, I get all excited and happy. I’m lucky to have the “gift of gab” so I can chat everyone up all night and never tire out. The gift I was given: being the host with the most! There are so many factors that go into making a successful event that can sustain it for years. Luckily, I’ve had some great successes and my last club BEIGE had an eleven year run! That’s almost unheard of. A great memory of your best night out with friends, etc., is the best gift you can give someone and that makes me feel a sense of accomplishment. It makes me happy when I meet a stranger and they mention how “there was this really fantastic fun club called Beige…” or “360 was the best…amazing!” and not knowing it was me that did that!
Trust, I’ve also had my failures but I learned from those experiences and they’re always costly so you don’t make those mistakes twice!

What would you like to do, if you didn’t do this?
I want to be and entertainer/comedian. There I said it. It’s been my dream but for some reason I lack the motivation!! So frustrating! I also loved having my restaurants and planning the events and parties. I’d like to one day do that again, when the time is right. It’s so great building it from scratch, designing it, and also the relationships and friendships that come with it. It is very rewarding. And again, I get to HOST!

What’s the best part of doing this job?
When the night gets packed and you sit back and watch everyone having a really great time, dancing, laughing, giving them a reason to get dressed up and you know it’s because of you. Knowing that people love what you do and are having fun because you have created this fun for them.

What’s the worst part?
When you think you have it all right, the right space, the right music, the right decor but it’s still doesn’t catch and it’s not successful. I really feel defeated when that happens.

Any other mentions about career directions?
Well, right now I’ve been approached to do a reality show about a funny crazy event planner...muah! Sort of like the show “Flipping Out” but a nicer gay guy...me. I am also working on a website that I can’t talk about just yet but I think it’s a fantastic idea. AND, I’m working on a funny invention that I think is going to be a huge success and I’m gonna live large from all the coins it brings...hee hee. Hey, anything’s possible! I think that will motivate me and afford me time to do my comedy, write my funny script ideas and what ever else pops in my head! My motto is “nothing ventured nothing gained” and I also love the line from Auntie Mame when Rosalyn Russell says “life’s a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death, so LIVE!”
-------------------
Find more on Rusty and his events on FaceBook

am i too late, santa?

2009-12-17T21:51:00.000-08:00

We LOVE PNUT JEWELRY! Rusty Pistachio, NYC-based jewelry designer and punk rock musician for the band H2O is inspired by music and tattoos. We think it's the perfect blend of beautiful and bad-ass!
I wonder if Santa might bring me the gold switchblade or a grenade?

marc jacobs shoes 09-10

2009-12-16T21:14:00.000-08:00

Marc Jacobs Collection - shoes for Resort '09 and Spring '10 beg the question: is he a fashion designer or an architect?

file under: books that you can’t put down

2009-12-13T12:03:00.000-08:00

Although none of the books here are new, the recent buzz about the upcoming feature film release of The Lovely Bones based on the book by Alice Sebold got me thinking how much I loved that book. The measure of a good book is that it makes you late for things because sometimes a story is just too good to put down. Other books that fit that criteria are A Girl Becomes a Comma Like That by Lisa Glatt and She’s Come Undone by Wally Lamb. The common thread for all of the above is that these are stories of loss and redemption, told with dark wit. All three made me happily late for something.

the dark side

2009-12-12T20:15:00.000-08:00

Made Her Think Black Label Collection is made of sterling silver in a darkly oxidized finish, some with pavé diamonds.

I've been coveting the rings, especially the Double Band Chain Ring Glove. It’s made to be worn on each finger of the hand.

Made Her Think consistently produces edgy pieces and this latest is on a new level.

life is too short for boring shoes

2009-12-09T19:36:00.000-08:00

For the first posting in the LimbicFire blog, I had to begin with these amazing booties found by my favorite shopping pal, Peyton. in a vintage clothing store on 4th Street in Long Beach. By the way, the trek to 4th Street was really worth it. There are so many new shops and galleries there!