Goodbye's the hardest

Well, we were up at 3:30 am this morning and I drove my Aussie friends to the airport. As soon as I got home, 6:00 am, I crashed on the couch and just woke up about 10:15.  I hope they were able to sleep on the plane. We were up very late watching Wes Anderson movies and burning CDs, and laughing about the random Australian slang terms we found in the little booklet of translations she brought for us. I am always depressed when guests leave.  She did a little webcam video of the two of us before we headed out to dinner last night and I'll get you the link to that when she has it posted. Yesterday we hiked around  near my house and spent the rest of the morning laying on the warm sand at one of the local's beaches in Lake Tahoe. It was almost completely empty due to the fact that it has been quite chilly this past weekend. Last night after Thai food, I took them to the Oldest Bar In Nevada, a wooden, old, juke box, biker bar nearby. We chatted with a guy who had just ridden his bike over the mountains from San Francisco, this tough biker guy, then we smiled when his sweet parents showed up to share a beer with him.  People inside were drinking and singing along to the songs from the juke box as if it were karaoke night.  The whole trip we were on the look out for Bears, or Deer, or at least a Skunk! Some type of North American wildlife (of course when you are not looking for it, they are everywhere!)  But we just saw ground squirrels. I dreamed about seeing skunks all night/ morning this morning though and thinking "oh! I have to tell Simon about that skunk I saw!" I will be a bit melancholy today I am sure.  But I have more guests arriving this weekend! My friend from Turkey is taking her boyfriend and sister to Burning Man this week and will sleep here a couple of nights before heading all the way home once its over. Sigh. I love people. But when they leave it is sad. I am already mourning their departure and they are not even here yet! I think I need more tea right now.

walk about

Sunday I collected Claire and Simon (they are here from Australia) from the airport about 1:00, and after a sushi lunch, a mini tour of northern Nevada, and a few beers, we went down to the river for a few pics.  It was actually COLD, chilly really, and I changed my clothes last minute before we left and didn't get any proper "outfit" photos while we were out there, but I thought these were pretty nice of the two of them! We are heading up to the lake tomorrow and maybe doing a little hike.  Trying to make the most of the short time they have here.

In more blogish related news, Reva of Reva'sRags2Roses, posted my answers to the following questions on her blog today.  There were actually some pretty hard questions for me to answer!  If you have some interest pop over and check it out!  Then maybe stay for a while and see what Reva is all about! Thank you so much Reva!

1. What inspired you to start a fashion blog ?

2. How has Blogging changed your life ?

3. How does it make you feel when so many are so inspired by your blog ?

4. Was there a moment when you realized you had hit the "Big Time"?

5. Where do you draw your fashion inspirations from?

6. Do you believe it is a natural talent or can style be "learned"?

7. What is the outfit/post that you are most proud of ? 

8. What is the most clever style or trend you have come across lately ?

9. What is your most exciting "Blog related" experience ?

10. What, in your opinion, defines a "note-worthy" or "good" blog?

11. How has your blog evolved over time?

12. When or Why did you first fall for Vintage ?

13. Which outfits are the most "You'?

14. What trends are you looking forward to this Fall ?

15. What is your definition of Success ?

16. What advice would you give young women ?

17. Many of us at one time or another have had or received "negative" feedback on our blogs. Has this ever happen to you and of so how did you deal with it ?

18. What are you most proud of ?

19. Is it tough to maintain such a popular Blog? If so, how?

20. And last, but certainly not least, What Philosophy or "Words of Wisdom" do you live by and would like to empart on the rest of the world ?

go around

When I was a teenager I observed that many of the trends I loved, my mom recalled she wore when she was my age. Knowing that, and regretting that my mom didn't save her dittos and whatnot, I decided to put away specific specimens from my wardrobe as they moved out of popularity, theorizing that one day they would come back around and I would be the coolest Mom/ Grandma/ Auntie some little girl could ever have since I had the foresight to save these things for her.  Little did I know that I would have another go round with them.  These were my first date Levis.  I wore them on several first dates, usually with a striped cropped shirt (and my belly button ring poking out. No I don't have it anymore, took it out when I was 20. yup, there is still a hole.) I grew out of them while I gained my freshman 15 and had not given them a second thought till now.

I am sure you can imagine my surprise when I pulled them on and realized they were the exact thing I have been looking for at the thrift shops.  Call it a early life crisis if you want, but I am totally wearing my teenaged pants.  It just seems odd to me that during the 90s we recycled the 70s (my moms era) a 20 year difference, but here in 2010 we are recycling the late 90's?  I wore these just 12 years ago.  I guess technically it would be a recycling of the 70s with a hybrid 90s/ 2010 update since I am absolutely not rocking my belly shirt and ring with my clunky thick soled boots (though probably some teenager is, somewhere right now.) Maybe I am deluding myself into thinking that these do not look absolutely ridiculous on me, but whatever.  I am digging it.

Now that I found my stash, I think I might take a closer look at some of my other specimens. Heavy tiger fur pants? Thick, plaid, flannel shirt, given to me by my Japanese foreign exchange student's younger brother? What else is in there?  Maybe I was just being clairvoyant for my own personal gain after all.

Pants: Vintage? Levis (surely not vintage. Right?)
Tee: thrifted then cut
Shoes, hat: thrifted
Purse: gift from Victorina

lambert the sheepish lion

Feeling a little sheepish today. which is weird since I felt like a ball of confidence in this dress yesterday. maybe I was TOO confident yesterday and now I feel embarrassed. I think red can do that to you and that may be why I generally avoid it.  Day to day things change I guess. Going to keep this brief.  Hope you have a nice Friday.  

Dress, belt, bracelets: thrifted vintage

Shoes: some brand that has worn off, from Ross

tattoo you

I don't have any tattoos but if I did get one, and I might one day,  would probably ask this girl to do one for me.  She does these painterly, abstract, brush stroke sort of tattoos, not too unlike the print on this dress (which I found thrifting Wednesday.) Check out Amanda Wachob if you want!!  Oh my goodness!  OH!! So I was just over at her site and snooping around and I found a tattoo she did that is a replica of an EGON SCHIELE Painting!!! AHHHHHHHHH that is my favorite artist ever ever EVER!! Its fate! I can't even believe this! I have to check in and find out if this is as significant as I think it is. I literally just found this out. and it is blowing my mind! Whoa!

{EDIT!!!:  The lovely women at Merci Blah Blah posted an interview they did with me recently! If you want to hear about my wildest fantasies, horny teenagers, poop (I know, not more poop right? but I assure you its not gross) and some other random things check it out! Thank you so much ladies!)

Dress, cuffs, belt, necklace: thrifted yesterday
shoes: old navy
hat: Dockers

losing my head

I had the hardest time getting a shot of my whole body this evening.  I assure you I have not lost my head for reals. I have been writing an awful lot though. I am just going to give my brain a break.  Lovely Hump-day everyone!  ( mean like, as in the middle of the week, Wednesday sort of hump.  You know what's funny! When I was very young I was sitting in the back of the car while my mom was driving and I asked her "Mom, what does hump mean?" because I had heard some kids using that word around school and I was pretty sure it meant something naughty but my mom just said "oh, hump?  you mean like a hump in the road?  Like a speed bump?  You know what a hump is. right?"  and that made me more curious about the word since I could tell my mom was pretty uncomfortable about this whole conversation and if it only means like, a hump in the street then why would she be acting so weird?  But I dropped it.  I just asked my friends the next day and they told me all about it.  Whoa.)  Seriously though, I just mean like happy Wednesday! We are half way to the weekend!  Whoo hoo!  And Claire from Casual Ambiguity is coming to my house while she is on her whirlwind trip though the States, all the way from Australia!  So excited!

top, shoes, most bracelets: thrifted
jeans: levis
under tank: AA
purse: gift from someone totally amazing
circle ring: a local boutique

I just gotta show this to you.

Hello Christine, 

How are you?

I think it´s only two days since I have discovered your blog (on bloglovin) and I just admire you. I know that your followers write you the same email, but I just fell in love with your clothes collection, your inspirational photos, really just everything. And because you are such a beautiful person I allow myself to draw portrait of you. I don´t know, if it´s good or not, but I enjoyed it anyways.;) So hope you like it and if you visit Europe someday- come to Prague, it would be awesome to meet you.:) 

Have a wonderful day. 

your new follower Eve (http://ellendavinci.blogspot.com/) 

I am beyond flattered.  Eve is absolutely beautiful and her blog is very sweet and fresh and she has an orange cat and an amazing smile and a warming writing voice! Thank you so much Eve! 

Wow you guys.

Oh my gosh you guys! I had no idea when I started writing that story that you would respond the way you did. I was so surprised to hear about all the S.s out there and all the similar experience stories. It felt really nice to get all of your feed back. To let you know, it has taken me a really long time to make friends again. I did like a full fledged friend dump after that and only let a few old friends back in. Only just recently have started letting new ones closer than "external status."  I think that is really why I got hooked to blogging actually. It allowed me to get to know people slowly through their own experiences and blogs. See what they are about and decide if I was interested in getting closer to them. I have never been a tons of friends type of person.  I see relationships as serious business and I would rather have single handful of real, totally jiving, accepts the real me, calls me on my shit, makes me laugh, and hugs me when I cry GENUINE friends than anything else. Don't get me wrong though! I still love people!  I have always been a people lover, I just don't let EVERYONE I meet be my bestest and give them everything I have to offer right away. I have learned boundaries. I am more cautious.  It's really scary to take risks sometimes and be yourself, your honest and true self with new potential friends.  I still worry sometimes that I go too far, that I won't be accepted, that I am too weird, or too boring, or too overzealous, but I communicate a lot better now. Get things cleared up. and I think that is the healthy way to make my way back to real friendships. Communication, honesty, humbleness and humor.

All right!  So, this has sort of morphed into this kind of story telling narrative, self reflective, confessional type space, with like personal style photos blended in and I am OK with that. It may not be that way for long.  I may want to use this space differently next week even. fine.  I know that some of you will come and go. thats ok too. Thank you though to those that are here now and who shared this with me. It was sorta wild to go back to that! At first it was just this like messed up story I was going to tell to amuse you, and its ended up being a kind of finalizing therapy. I really am over this now. wow. I have a smile on my face just to let you know! I hope someone out there got something positive out of it too.

Pants: thrifted
Shirt shoes: urban outfitters
Accessories: thrifted

THE REALLY UGLY

Let's just finish this up shall we.  Please note that this was a couple of years ago. I was a different person then.  A weaker, bottle my emotions till I burst person. I bottled so much up that I continually made myself sick. I didn't communicate well. I avoided conflict. I am not passing judgment here and I have been very careful to just state the facts as I understood them, and I will be fair and tell you what she said to me. I mean, maybe at the end of all of this you will feel judgmental of me. Fine.  I have no control over what you think of me. That is all you. What is is.

THE REALLY UGLY:

At this point I didn't know what was real and what was not. And frankly, it didn't matter anymore.  I was a changed person. Any compassion, understanding, sympathy, was gone.  All that was left was bitterness and rage. I knew what I had to do and I was going to do it.  Unfortunately the wall of poop stink that hit me the Sunday before, had brought back my sore throat and I proceeded to get sick as the week went on. I had lost my voice by Thursday, which kept things a little more simple I think. I didn't have to say much anyway, to get what was necessary. I went upstairs to the studio, where she was still happily singing and began grabbing my things. She asked what I was doing and I ignored her. Once my things were out, I went up with a trash bag and started bagging trash, not her things but obvious trash, old dirty paper plates, wrappers, random things. "Are you mad?  Do you want me to help you?  What's going on? Why are you ignoring me?" "S. You are going to move out today. My brother and his friend will be here at 1:00 to help you bag stuff up. They both have trucks. They will take the bags where ever you want, but this place will be empty by dark." Stunned silence. Tears. "Why are you doing this??  What made you change your mind? I don't understand this urgency.  You have to tell me!" "Well, the truth is, you said it yourself you are an excellent liar. I don't believe a word you tell me anymore. I don't trust you and I feel betrayed and I want you out immediately." INTENSE ANGER apparent on her face.  "I don't need this fucking shit. not from you!! You hear me! I have been through far too much I don't need to take that shit from you! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!! I will get my things out myself! I don't need anyones help!" "No. My brother will help you since you don't have a truck and there is too much for you to do on your own and be done before 8:00 tonight." I stayed calm. Like the eye of a tornado. I left her alone. I went downstairs and cracked once I was safely inside. I cried hard.  I felt awful and angry, and mean and proud of myself, and evil and good, and exhausted and shaky.  My brother and his friend came and she wouldn't let them help. I went upstairs again and saw that she was crying but stopped when she saw me. She ignored me. I told her that I knew she was mad but asked her to please accept their help so we don't have to drag this on into the night. She shook her head ok.

They all worked till 9:00. There were a few more confrontations. more yelling. mean words and poison from her. I kept my statements simple. They ended up leaving her things on her front lawn.

I received an email a couple of days later telling me that I was just a little peach fuzz that never worked a hard day in my life. That while she was in the garage, we sat like a king and queen in our castle and judged her from our thrones. That we had no right to judge since we didn't KNOW her. We had never seen the things she's seen. Don't we know that being normal is a disease? We could never hurt her. She would rise like the phoenix from all of this and emerge stronger, while we continued to wither from our disease.

I gotta tell you, it shook me.  My instinct was to write her back and tell her that I would rather have a disease I could cure in myself than a parasite like her. But I didn't. I let it go. Let her have the last word. I am sure what she said in her email was true to a point.  I have lived a pretty safe and posh life.  I have never been homeless as she has, abused or hungry, or at the mercy of someone else. Maybe I did act indecently and without grace there at the end. Or maybe I was just a fool for all of that time to let her walk all over me. I closed my heart off for a long time after that. I reflected. I went back to yoga. Saw a doctor. Quit my job. Cut ties with many people. Reevaluated. Cleaned my slate and started over.

A few months later I ran into her at my brother's high school graduation. She hugged me. It was weird. She seemed the same. Like the way she was when I met her. For a very brief moment I forgot everything that had happened. We smiled at each other. Then it was like we both remembered at the same time.  an ache in my heart. We stopped smiling and walked away into the crowd. I forgave her right then and I hoped that she forgave me.

So thats it.  My crazy ex-girlfriend story. I know you may have expected something different. Some of you feared that I was still hurting very much from all of this, but I am not. Not anymore. I even had someone caution me about moving forward. That maybe I should think twice about airing someone else's dirty laundry. Well, its my laundry too.  I have only written the truth.

THE UGLY

THE UGLY:

In early January we had a sit down with S.  Things were starting to feel a little out of hand. Her boyfriend had returned from fishing (empty handed) and was now left with the kids all day while S. lounged around in the studio watching daytime television and "fasting". She slept there, alone, all the time, even on Christmas Eve and when I went up Christmas day to see why she was not with her kids and boyfriend she just said she needed a break from them. OK?  Odd time to choose one. It was beginning to feel like we were just giving S. a place to escape to while she pretended to be listing and selling vintage.  The vibe felt all wrong. I was finally regaining my strength and was ready to address her presence. Somehow she manipulated my husband and I into allowing her to stay on for another month on a trial basis "The whole point of me being up there was to use it as a work space away from home so I could focus and sell to support my family. I also wanted to teach you Christina how to start your own store on Ebay and how to photograph and list, so how about we just give it one more month, I will get my things cleaned up up there and we can start working together like we had planned. I mean you were supposed to be working with me you know, and you have totally been avoiding going up there so its not my fault we have not kept our deal." True.  We all need second chances right. Fine. One More Month.

I tired to go up there and work. I brought all my vintage up to hang next to hers (though I was worried they would start to smell like that smell that was up there) I spent an afternoon sitting next to her by her laptop and watching her resize her photos and load them into ebay. She took photos of a few of my things. But that night I knew it would never work. I laid in bed without sleep that whole next night KNOWING that she needed to go. My instincts, everything I could sense with my whole mind and body said it. I even heard a voice in my head. SHE HAS TO GO. I started to feel sick again.

The first weekend in February, my husband and I went away for the weekend. Just AWAY. It was wonderful. When we got back were relieved to see her car was not there. When we walked through the breeze-way though, the smell was worse than ever "Christina! Will you please go up there and look around and make sure she is not DEAD up there or that she hasn't stashed, like a dead body up there or something! Jeeze!" We joked about things like this, half joked because at this point it seemed highly unlikely, but just maybe not impossible. Perfect grounds for sick jokes. I walked up the stairs and opened the door. A mess as usual, but I needed to finally see it. look at the mess and see what it had become. the bathroom door was closed and the vent fan was on. Odd. I opened the door and something kept me from opening it all the way. something solid. I pushed harder and peeked my head in. It was a bin full of shoes.  Knee deep piles of clothes surrounded it. the toilet lid was down. Do not ask me why I HAD to look under. I pushed my way in, kicked my way through and clumsily, in slow motion approached the toilet. I can still see my hand reaching for the lid, that last brief flash of ignorance. The wall of smell hit me first and was so disorienting I couldn't understand what I was seeing. Is this toilet filled to the lid with shit? BLACK SHIT. It kissed the lid like a new container of lip gloss does the first time you open it. but this was shit.

Tears from the fumes burned my eyes and I dry heaved. I couldn't add to this mess. I ran horrified down to the house and yelled "THETOILETISFILLEDWITHSHIT!" "What!!??" "the TOILET. is FILLED. with SHIT." He grabbed a snake. (you know like a metal toilet unclogging snake.) and returned after several minutes. "I may have made it worse. When S. gets back tell her she has to leave immediately and get all of her things out so we can call a plumber." OK. I absolutely will. that was Sunday.

MONDAY: I get home from work and she is up there. I walk in and she is doing dishes (the piles of rotting food and dishes seemed secondary to the shit so I didn't mention it earlier) "Hi!" she smiled at me. "UUUh S. We found the toilet." "oh I know! I tried to work on it more this morning when I got here. I think your pipes are frozen!" she was chipper. I opened the bathroom door and just as fast as her dish washing water was flowing down the drain, chunks of black shit water were bubbling up out into the bathtub. "S!! Shut off the water!!" "oh my." "Listen S.  You have to get out of here. you have to go. We need to call a plumber and get this fixed and we need you out of here right away for us to do that." "Oh, why do you need me out to call a plumber?" "because you have your shit and vintage everywhere. It may be a pretty messy job and we don't want your things to get ruined. Besides, its just time for you to leave. this is insane."  "Well, the toilet is NOT my fault! I don't even use toilet paper! I don't know why you are punishing me for the fact that your pipes froze. I told you about that months ago. Listen, I will move all of my things out  of the bathroom so the plumber can get in there. ok?" I was shaking. I didn't handle confrontation well. I felt manipulated, but I didn't know how to be strong. I went downstairs and told my husband what she said. Outraged. Before I could go back up she got in her car and left. we called the plumber.

TUESDAY: The plumber arrived early. He BROKE his snake trying to fix the problem.  had to remove the toilet. shit water went everywhere. he was even bewildered and he's seen some shit. Eventually he pulled out a baby sized wad of paper towels: the evidence, an empty paper towel roll was still sitting on the empty toilet paper roll holder.  "I never use toilet paper." well I guess that wasn't a lie. He had to go under the sink as well.  He pulled out a babies diaper completely smudged and covered with menstrual blood. Apparently she didn't use tampons or pads either. I was disgusted. the bill was astronomical. She arrived after everything was cleaned back up. I told her the findings. She was defensive. I told her SHE HAD TO LEAVE. "well, I will. I just can't for another two weeks because my grandma just died this morning and I have to fly to Florida for the funeral on Friday. My mom already bought my ticket. I will move everything out as soon as I get back. I don't know when that will be though since she only bought me a one way ticket." She started to tear up.  awe. her grandma died.  I had just lost my grandfather the previous November (yes. it was a bleak November) and she was able to squeeze just a few drops of sympathy from me. "besides, the urgency is over now, the toiled it fixed. I promise I will move out when I get back. In fact, I will start packing now and get it all bagged so that when I get back we can just move it to a storage unit." I felt defeated and weak. I went back to the house and told my husband. "NO FUCKING WAY! Tell her we will hire your brother and his friend to help her and we will get her out before she leaves on Friday. they will come over Thursday right after school and we will just work till it is done. I feel bad she lost her grandma and all but this way she will not have that looming over her while she is away, and honestly who knows, she could leave all of this stuff forever and never come back." By the time I went up to tell her all of this she was gone again.

WEDNESDAY: I stay home from work to watch for her car to pull in. Finally it does and I see her run upstairs. I follow. She is frantically grabbing things, her computer, a pile of vintage, random things. I tell her the plan. "Well that is going to just be impossible since My boyfriend's DAD died in the hospital this morning!  Everyone is freaking out! It's total chaos! I have to get back since I left him with the kids. He is a total wreck! I'll be back tonight and we can talk about all this but right now, I have much bigger problems to worry about than getting my shit out of your house!" She left. This must be the worst week of her life right? Later that night My husband and I, punch drunk, sickly joked about how maybe she was lying and that neither grandma nor dad were dead. But who would lie about something like that??  That would be really sick. We decided to let her take her time. Move out when she got back and after all the funerals.

THURSDAY: She was up there.  Alone. Music was playing. My car was getting new tires so she thought I was not home. I creeped up. caught her off guard. She was singing. "Oh! Hi! (big smile) you surprised me!" I was cool, calm, I told her that she had till the end of February to get her things out. her defenses dropped. I asked how her boyfriend's family was doing. "oh, they are all crazy. After I left here I went over to the hospital to see how his dad was doing and to bring him some carrot juice I juiced for him but they wouldn't let me give it to him! I know that if they just let me try to give him good nutrients, we would have a chance at saving him. They are all just so closed minded to natural healing." "S. you did that after you left here yesterday?" "Ya, thats why I couldn't come back last night." "S. You told me he was dead." silence. heart racing. breathing hard. silence. "oh, well, I thought he was dead. but then when I got there he was still alive." "so you brought some juice for a dead person?" "oh, well, that was actually for me and I was just going to try to give it to him since he was still alive." Ah.  Interesting. I left her with a happy little, "all right, well I'll see you later." I called Evan immediately and told him that the dad was not really dead. "Call your brother, tell him and his friend to come over after school. You, go up there now and just get your stuff out of there. make sure anything that is yours is out. at 1:00 your brother and his friend will bag her stuff and put it on the lawn of her house if they have to. SHE WILL BE OUT TODAY."

Oh gosh. this is getting really really long.  I will tell you the final conclusion tomorrow. Its the part where I finally grow my balls: THE REALLY UGLY.

Dress: gift
Belt, hat, necklace: thrifted
Shoes: gift from husband

Intermission

Hello.  I know you are expecting THE UGLY tomorrow (Saturday) morning.  I was hopeful that I would be able to write it tonight. Unfortunately (well for you, Fortunately for me) Paige is coming over tonight for a BBQ and beers and spending the night and we are all going to the beach tomorrow morning (Lake Tahoe) and I will be unable to sit and get in touch with all the nitty gritty details before then.  I know, wicked. But I PROMISE I will have it for you Sunday.  I just want to do it right, you know.  take my time and make sure I hit all the right spots.  I also wanted to assure you that the pain from this story is gone now.  I have forgiven, seen my role in it all, learned some valuable things and, yes, have emerged a different person.  This incident was a catalyst in many ways. So, don't fret! Just enjoy the rest of the story. and maybe even learn from it if you can.  Let it be a cautionary tale. See ya's Sunday! Mwa ha ha hahahah! (that's an evil laugh, not at you, just for effect.)

THE BAD

THE BAD:


Late September: The Saturday of the vintage party I woke up early.  S. had been promising me all week that we would "bust it out" and get all the clothes hung on the racks the day of the party instead of earlier in the week as  I suggested.  I went out and up to the garage studio and she was gone.  Fine. I cleaned more and got food and drinks ready. Around noon she came home with new bags from more thrifting. Confused and pressed for time, we began wildly throwing the bins open and hanging everything up. She kept saying "are we really doing this? Are people even coming?" WHAT?   Yes LOTS of people were coming. Yes we are doing it. And lots did come and it ended up being a total success and she made a shit ton of money. BANK.  During the party her "husband" called (not her boyfriend who was fishing but her husband, the father of her 4 yr old son) he asked if She was there and I said yes. "What?  You mean the two of you are not in San Francisco?" "uuuuummm, nnnoooo.  We are here."  "Are you sure she is not in SF?" "Ya, pretty sure." I marched up to her in the studio and told her about the phone call.  She explained that he is crazy and has a terrible temper (and lots of other things, like she is only married to him so he can live in the states, and he forced her to keep the baby saying he would kill her if she gave it up, and that he is obsessed with her still and hates her current boyfriend) and she needed him to watch the kids for the party so she told him that we were in SF. No big deal. "Don't worry, I will think of something to tell him. I am an excellent liar." (ding ding ding ding)

I didn't see her for most of the following week. I assumed she was taking care of her affairs with all of her new money.  By Thursday she was back. "I need to borrow some money." WHAT? What did you do with all the money you just made? "It's gone." More lies, more excuses, more need followed.  There was never enough.  The first week in October I got sick. Really, really sick, like Doctors cutting and draining cysts in my throat to keep me from suffocating, vomiting up blood, diarrhea, lose 15 lbs, can't walk sick, and it lasted, coupled with depression, through the middle of November. S. was up in the garage the whole time. I didn't pay attention to her. She avoided me. One day I got a call from a kid asking for her. An older kid. Who is this?  "This is her son." He was 13 and lived with her mom in Florida. "How did you get this number?" "Its the one she calls me on all the time." I weakly went upstairs to ask her WTF was going on. she was already on the phone (my phone) with him and looking at me petrified. I sat as she finished her conversation. "Ya, I have another son." Fine, why didn't you ask me if you could use my phone to call long distance to Florida? "I have never called. this was the first time." REALLY? hmm. Our phone bill proved otherwise. No biggie. So a few long distance phone calls. For my husband, alarm bells were ringing. There were other things too. Signs I should have seen but didn't. The missing DVDs, the disgusting piles of trash and food accumulating among the higher, waist deep piles of thrifted clothing in the studio, the weird garlic shit smell that wafted down from the stairs in the breeze-way between the door and the garage. One day in November when I was still delirious and sick, she told me that the toilet wouldn't flush. She thinks the pipes are frozen. It happened in her last place and she knew how to fix it. In the mean time she just won't use it. fine. don't use the toilet. whatever.

So many times I have thought about all of the warnings signs. The frequent "white lies," I caught her in, the smells and strange behavior. There is obviously so much more that I have not mentioned.  Little things that flash on the screen when you see the end point twist in a movie. That part that leaves your jaw on the ground. And it was my house. I should have paid closer attention. I was just so sick. and weak. Besides, I NEVER could have fathomed what came next. You don't look for signs of this.

Tomorrow: THE UGLY


Tank: AA
Levis Corduroy pants: vintage thrifted
Belt with coin purse: Vintage thrifted
Sandals: UO
bolo: (Go BOLOMANIA) thrifted
Bracelet: Honduras

THE GOOD

You really want to hear my raunchy, crazy, ex girlfriend story?  Its sort of long.  Any good story is best told in person with gestures and tone and suspense. I am not sure I will be able to do it justice in written form, but I will try.

First: THE GOOD

She was wearing a turban made of old tee shirts, vintage scarves and twine.  Her glasses, in clear light pink, filled up half of her face which was already obstructed by her mixed up pile of vintage fabrics and mu mu dresses. I liked her right away.  She caught me staring at her and I blushed. ME: "Who are you?" HER: "Why? (big smile)" She didn't tell me her name right away.  She seemed careful.  I explained that I worked for a non profit arts organization and that we were looking for independent designers who worked with recycled materials.  I was organizing a series of workshops that would lead to a fashion show the following fall and was searching for talent.  I told her she seemed artistic and from the looks of things, had an eye for vintage. We exchanged numbers. By the end of the month she was living in my garage.

S. did sew, she said, and had a million ideas for designs, she just needed some space, and time. Yesterday I told you about my first time at her house, the shoes, her collection, the DEAL, but I didn't tell you the whole story.  I was seduced by her collection.  Industrial sized bins and every one that was opened, immaculate, amazing, unique, perfectly edited, VINTAGE.  Or maybe I was bewitched.  She maybe cast a spell on me. Or perhaps I was so LUSTFUL for her things I couldn't think straight.  The visual masturbation was too much for me to handle. I needed more.  She gave me the boots, gave me the shoes, a PILE of dresses, GAVE as gifts. My gratitude and drunken ecstasy drove me to then GIVE her $300 (she was about to be kicked out of her apartment) the studio over my garage (to store her vintage and work on her sewing) My BODY (to model her vintage for selling on Ebay) and my blind loyalty. She had a story "my boyfriend has left me with these two children (1 yr and 4 yrs) to go on a deep sea fishing expedition, and without any money. It was his last effort at getting a little cash so that we can move out of here.  I told him I would support myself selling vintage but its been so hard to list and photograph my things since I don't have any family nearby and I can't afford preschool.  I am about to be kicked out of my apartment and I don't have anywhere to go."   I HAD a bleeding heart.  A fellow mom.  She needed help.  I could help her.  I had everything she needed and she seemed like a freaking GENIUS.  So cool.

After she eventually moved all the way in (her utilities were shut off and had no way of cooking for her children or bathing them) WE decided to throw a huge vintage party so she could sell some of her stuff outright and get some start up capital to get her kids in preschool, giving her time to list and photograph and finally sell to support herself. I called in all my favors. I gathered 5 rolling racks, borrowed hangers from the thrift stores, called all my friends from my art college, made fliers and invited the public. Everyone came together for the Cause. It was going to be just the thing she needed to get back on her feet.

The day of the party things started to get weird. And tomorrow I will tell you part two: THE BAD.

(I am sure you can guess that part three will be: THE UGLY.) 

Dress: Vintage thrifted
Shoes: lucky brand
Jean Jacket: Vintage thrifted
Ring: Low luv
All other accessories: thrifted

It may be a bit premature for trousers but I can deal with it.  Plus I didn't shave today, so, you know. Don't look TOO hard at that shoe close up shot.

Oh, and about these shoes anyway.  Yes, they are vintage from like the 80s and they were just sitting on the floor in the entry way of the home of this girl I met at a huge rummage sale a couple years ago, and immediately their prone posture and miraculous existence made me think this girl was either a witch or genius. She proceeded to then show me bins and bins full of the most wicked vintage collection I had ever seen and within one hour she gave me these shoes and the leather desert knee high boots I always wear, as a gift in exchange for me modeling all of her clothes for her to sell on Ebay.  She moved into the studio over my garage like a month later (apartment trouble on her end) and we were sort of like best friends or Sorcerer (her) and Apprentice (me), for like 6 months. She is the one that taught me. Well, our partnership declined dramatically after I caught her taking things from my house and lying to my face about crazy ass shit (the whole story involves a toilet full of poo, two dead people, a plumber, and a bloody diaper under the sink, but not in that order.  And YES, this is an EFFING true story.) So I had to sever our relationship in the ugliest way possible. I talked about it here before.  I guess pure genius (or witchery) comes at a cost sometimes (and so do really great shoes) and I always try to keep that in mind.

Shoes: gift? lesson?
Bracelets: one thrifted one gifted
pants: thrifted
Shirt: thrifted
accessories: thrifted