Only three days in and I've already missed a day! GOdelia! I figured that at this point quality takes precedence over quantity...right? Plus, yesterday Octavia, our French family friend Mathilde, and I all went up to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to check out the exhibit at the Costume Institute, "Prada and Schiaparelli: Impossible Conversations," so pictures were not really a thing. To expand on my previous statement, the show was amazing. To this day I still regret not seeing the Alexander McQueen exhibit last year, so I felt that it was my duty as a blogger, fashion-lover, and a human being to view the cleverly juxtaposed garments of Prada and Schiaparelli together, two of the greatest Italian designers of the past (and current) century.
Enough about the show. Go see it, dance around the gallery, hum Adele songs under your breath, forcefully grasp the shoulders of innocent passersby to express your appreciation of the utter beauty of each and every piece on display.
Today in class we continued workin' at the carwash on our pants. We're still at the pattern paper phase, but tomorrow we shall advanced to--holy shiznits!--da muslin!!! Cuttin' and a-sewin' and doin' a lil' jig! Just how I like it. In a few weeks' time, I will be a regular seamstress. Need clothing? Give me a ring at 917-ICA-NSEW!
This morning while dressing myself I felt the need to channel a different designer from Italy: Valentino. His spring 2012 collection was a perfect combination of romanticism, subtle sexiness and sylph-like beauty. I loved it. And the hair...you know me, I like to have my hurr to be as low maintenance as possible, but those wrap-around braids were a work of art in themselves. Day 3's outfit pays hommage to my homeboiiz/gurrlz Pier Paolo Piccioli and Maria Grazia Chiuri.
Photos by me, myself and I. <--This joke is never going to get old
Dress: Eber via Vice Versa Vintage
Vest: thrifted and DIY'd
Socks: courtesy of my childhood
Snakeskin platforms: BCBG Max Azria via my grandma
Necklace: granny
I would have blended right into the Valentino line-up, they would have never noticed.
Princesses are proper and ladylike.
And apparently have some some unruly hair.
Princess goes punk. A pop of the collar, an angry glare at a door that did nothing to harm you except maybe be in your way of getting inside someone's apartment, a flare of the nostrils...you're all set.
See, I was trying to skip in place to simulate a royal maiden frolicking through the gardens of her estate, but after three tries this was my most successful result.
I don't know how my arm ended up like that either.
This is what the front back of my head looks like après le haircut. I'm actually so in love with it. If only it could be this short in the front...wink, wink. Peep the butterfly clip to the right and the cartilage piercin' to the left, the two lovely additions to my head.
I don't know who did this painting or when it was made or anything, but I saw it at the Met yesterday and was instantly enamored of it. If my elderly friends and I are not this cool when we become people of a certain age, I do not know what I shall do.
If you happen to be in the 'hood, I recommend seeing the current exhibition at the Museum at FIT. It's really rad. The red Helmut Lang dress is like heaven had a nosebleed on 28th Street and 7th Avenue, right inside the MFIT gallery in the form of a synthetic horsehair/chiffon gown.
Awesome! Your hair looks lovely. I def need to take a trip to the Prada/Schiap exhibit!
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