dear you,

months ago there was still love. now there is nothing. every email search finds results in you. you meant everything at one point.
i am over it. i've found that to be sad is one thing, but to feel replaced is another thing.

to see photos i was once in, to see me, but instead of me, another girl, is just the worst.

well, my sadness is over. i don't feel sad for me, or for me without you. i feel inspired, i feel empowered, but what a challenge it is to get you out of my life. to ignore you!

so fuck off! i will not be friends with your friends, i will unsubscribe from your blog, and i will ignore your magazine on the racks. for you couldn't handle being my friend.

and i'm a damn good friend.

xx,
stacy

hedi slimane

have been meaning to do a hedi slimane post for a while. his hiatus from fashion design into a successful career as a photographer is impressive, and his photos are beautiful depictions of fashionable, young, odd faces.

I sit at my desk at 3.20am, making my clean face and teeth dirty again by smoking what feels like a much-needed cigarette.

I'm taking a personal inventory. Planning a portfolio that is a long time in the works, being completely selfish and racking my brain trying to figure out what I've accomplished in the past 2 years apres college. Looking through old sketchbooks finding logos, drawings, website plans, fashion lookbooks, magazine clippings and love notes.

The pieces of paper that celebrate a moment, and promise a million more moments. The mix cd's and museum tickets and books and photographs and all of the "life" things; how do these factor into a portfolio? They should, shouldn't they? Our creative lives are based upon our tangible output, but these products are a product of our experiences, visual influences, our soundtracks, and our conversations. I wonder if these are meant to be our secret weapons and private treasure chests, exposed only to those who visit our personal spaces and pique deeper conversation, or if they are meant to be shared and shown off like trophies and prized heirlooms of all that makes us who we are? The vintage books, torn down street posters, messy workspaces, and used exacto blades seem as important as the finished product.

So now to figure out how to display it all without giving away those precious secrets!

so what if its the chick from gossip girl

dance!

"why do you adopt that personality as if you can't change it. you have a choice, stop acting so weak and powerless. it's not lady-like."

six months.

forget. forget. forget.

"hey i'm nicole, a model/skateboarder. i don't deliver shit"

voluptuous!

the caption.

owen jones

not really sure about where this came from, but its a beautiful lithograph by owen jones made in 1865. love!

a terrible night.
one of those that just feels wrong. one that you know is best spent inside, but you still go out.

a full moon.

it nearly lived up to those negative expectations. sitting alone, watching people walk by and judging those i sit near.

but it was redeemed. by a frenchman. its very powerful when someone thinks you've got it figured out. at those moments when you feel most insecure, most alone, they get it, they get you. if only for that one night.

lovely.

"serenghetto"

the artist who made this mural, or tag, or whatever you want to classify it as, is 9 years old. Okay maybe 10 by now, not sure. The animals spell her nickname S O L.

Pretty good.

Her flickr.

inventory.

we own, we collect, we see so much. these things, things that sit on our bookshelves, in our bedrooms, on our floors, and in our closets.

do we collect for ourselves, or for others to understand us?

i think both. is that wrong? when people come into my space, move my things, touch them, and read them, it makes me very nervous. i feel they can instantly judge me, they can see my literary history, my interests, my sketches, my trash, my treasures, my highs and my lows. and it makes me wonder, is it all necessary?

erin wasson, a model, designer, stylist, etc, had a sale at her home the other week - she apparently wanted to shed her fine pieces of balenciaga, chanel, and who knows what other amazing things to pare down her life. to adopt a minimalism that in my opinion, feels right for right now. none of this recessionary talk, but just, getting rid of the excess in this current climate.

but i just wonder, and I hope this doesn't come off as superficial, but can you define yourself with out these "things"? if no one can see and touch your copy of catcher in the rye you read a million times, if they can't see the folded page corners, or touch the coffee stains on those pages, can they really know that it was a part of you? is it nonexistent if you let it out of your sight and out your hands? of course not, it will live inside of you, but i think what scares me, is that i myself might forget.


photo, the selby.

i think you're crazy, maybe.

I've mentioned this whole, "fuck-it-all" attitude I've been attempting to adopt as of 2009. I realize more and more, it's truly the only way to go. In person, on line, at work, its all you can really do to connect with anyone. Because if they don't take you as you are, then they aren't worth taking on. Although I consider my people-standards to be high, and rarely meet people who I want to pursue any kind of friendship with, keeping with this 'tude has proven to pretty much get me where I want to be - honest-ly, with people.

Last night, giddy, in-like, and slightly in-toxicated, I started out more fuck-it-all, and ended up more fuck-it-up. Not that there was much to fuck up, I still reverted to games and thinking way too much. It just does not work and for me, it held me back.

And puhlease, I'm not saying I've got it all figured out. This night made me feel fucking insecure, unsure, and all around contemplative, and I don't work well under these conditions. Visions of ex-boyfriends, of old friends I never see anymore, and of a challenging Swede, this night was like a mind-fuck of past, present, and future; but I actually liked it.

I just wonder where you go from there. Grappling with exes who are quite literally moving out of your life, and friends who you hope will move closer into your life, is it better to be honest with each group? To move these things forward and backward, in and out of your life? To really go for it disregarding pride and games and being "cool"? And in relation to that, is it socially odd to seek out pointless new acquaintances?


too many questions as usual, and very few answers.

the bad seeds.

these girls never existed at my high school. i sort of wish i could have been one.

common space.

I'm sort of perplexed, and feeling unnaturally in-my-head about this.

Good people. Common interests. Friends.

I feel the urge to observe right now. To observe people, to observe relationships, to observe conversations. I know how I act in any given situation. I know I'm self-deprecating, I know I can be sarcastic, I know I can be fucking shy and awkward, and occasionally, I can be funny. It's just, sometimes you want to just see how others approach conversation.

I went to Spaceland tonight, a venue in LA to see a few bands play, and apres-show, I wanted to talk to some of the (cute) band members. Sure, I had a few gin-and-tonics in me, and was feeling pretty chatty, but I asked my friend who was with me to back me. AKA I said, I might turn all fan girl, so come up with something witty to say, just in case i freeze. Of course, I could be pretty sure I wouldn't freeze up; it's pretty easy to chat up a band dude, but I was just SO intrigued by what this friend might offer to the conversation that I couldn't.

It's just so easy to have temporary conversation. So easy to make fun of someone's drink (a greyhound) or to claim to be an "early adopter" by living in grungy downtown. All warrant temporary laughs and possible inside jokes, but when does it become real? When does the conversation become real enough to be friendly? Like, FRIENDly.

the stranger.

When do you know when to put yourself out there?
Relationships are everywhere, and not to generalize, but they are pretty fucking easy to have. You can meet people anywhere, and whether you want to talk to a person or not, relationships happen everyday, though they may only last for that day, or for that hour, or for that concert.

It becomes a question of, when do you think its right? When is it worth pursuing? There can be the guy who is funny and charming, but just lacks that je-ne-sais-quoi that makes you want to give them your number. Or the guy who seems great, but your time was too brief to really know if anything was there. And there is the guy who you totally think you dig, and in effect, don't want to be over eager.

In all cases, how do you know whether or not you should really go for it, really fight for the contact, despite how it could end up: romantic, friendly, or you may not end up with anything! This new year of being "alone" allowed me to adopt a mantra of fuck-it-all. Pardon my french, or whatever, but its really the only way to describe it. So I won't apologize for giving out my number to one too many people, for actually meeting someone in traffic on the highway, or for having crushes I probably shouldn't have. For, how nice it sounds to let go! To be free! And not to sound cliche, but to really be passionate, sans-guard for just that moment!