Photographs and White Dresses

We can catch buses and count our change and cross the roads and talk real sentences. But our innocence goes awfully deep, and our discreditable secret is that we don't know anything at all, and our horrid inner secret is that we don't care that we don't.
-Dylan Thomas


Édouard Boubat


Burberry Prorsum

Appled Days.

I bought a giant bag of apples at the co-op this week, and have been munching on them constantly. I like when they are small and fit in your pocket without appearing bizarrely bulbous. Food has been a kind of accessory lately--it seems my pockets are always filled with some kind of candy or snack that gives me something to do when standing about in the in-betweens (while also satiating my sweet-tooth, or serving as a neat-o snack between meals). Somehow I felt it was appropriate to eat an apple while wearing a white dress: Snow White-ish, if you will.


(A week and a half later, all the leaves are gone from the trees.)

As I'm sure you noticed--or maybe not, but you know--I've momentarily fallen back into an old uniform. White dress + black tights + cardigan = The Kater Uniform. These shoes are so high that I've scarcely worn them since I bought them last year, but I do love them to little bits. I've fallen out of practice for heel-walking since neither of my jobs really facilitate the wearing of heels, and it becomes harder and harder to be comfortable in them. For the first time in ages, I feel unsteady on them, oddly limited, and as though my uncoordinated abilities are magnified to the highest extent. A few home-heel-walking sessions are in order and must be penciled in these days (even if the impending doom of winter weather threatens to kill any semblance of civilized footwear).

Uniforms are weird things. I've posted about it before--way back when--and I don't mean the kind of uniform one would wear to school. The default, fool-proof outfit, is a weird thing. For a few weeks (although my scant posting doesn't offer much proof of the statement which is to follow) I've been wearing jeans and pants far more often than skirts or dresses! I'm not certain what this does to my reputation for it certainly makes it much more difficult for anyone to recognize me. A friend only weeks go described me to someone who was bound to see me at work as 'The girl who always wears dresses,' a rather inaccurate categorization these days since I've hardly bothered. I'm challenged by jeans, and pants. It sort of feels like making an outfit around them is much more difficult than with a dress. It involves more than one piece for one, but then when I wear an outfit that I consider successful that involves pants I feel a smug sense of pride.

I've also got to take back everything I ever thought that was horrid about distressed jeans. I'm not going to run around in anything shredded to within an inch of it's life--I don't think I'm edgy enough for that kind of thing-- but a little knee hole in the Wayne & Garth spirit seems oddly alright and fun. Except when it is very cold and the air goes inside your knee hole, and you are very uncomfortable.

Either way, these days I'm a little bit more alright with a bit more tarnish and decay encroaching on the world of primness.

(Also, on a separate note: I'm so sorry to everyone who has tagged me for memes and the like in the past few weeks months. I'm afraid I tend to just not have the time to fill them out, and I also forget and lose track very easily. I'm sorry a million times, and I truly appreciate it <33333)

Fall at Once.

Oh dear! Today I noticed that the trees were almost bare (granted, the ground was covered with a good coating of leaves) and that this last week or so has been just so lovely. The weather, despite a day of rain, was perfectly cooperative and ideally autumnal and the leaves suddenly seemed lush with color found both on the trees and the ground. I realized that I haven't posted in quite a while--it gets to the point where it feels so awkward and one does not know what to say! Thank you all so much for the caring and thoughtful comments, I so dearly appreciate it and it is so lovely of you! To make up for the extended absence, here are some snippets of what's been going on. Lots of leaves, adventures in jeans, boyfriends in elbow-patches, and Halloween (I went as the same as last year--there will be a proper post on this eventually--I just love large ridiculous hair!), going to the movies, and more leaves.

Away For a Little

Toast.

Brb.
I'll be back to posting in a week or so.
(Edit: I didn't post about it originally, because I don't quite like the feeling of being so personal sometimes, but I will be away for a while due to a family passing. Thank you all for your wishes <3)

Hello, October!

Hello October! You are my favorite, with your leaves and chilly winds and the best holiday ever, even better than my birthday.


(I don't know where this came from. Someone sent it to me and said, "This is you," and basically, it is. A cat, wearing a scarf, reading something, and drinking tea.)

October:
Knee Socks
Leaves
Cider Donuts
Apple Orchards
Plaid
Halloween
Cold Noses
Hot Chocolate
Scarves
Tweed
Corduroy
Being Creepy



"Oh," cried Marianne, "with what transporting sensations have I formerly seen them fall! How have I delighted as I walked to see them driven in showers about me by the wind! What feelings have they, the season, the air, altogether inspired! Now there is no one to regard them. They are seen only as a nuisance, swept hastily off, and driven as much as possible from the sight."

"It is not everyone," said Elinor, "who has your passion for dead leaves."
-Sense and Sensibility

I think I used this quote last year, but it is so perfect, that I do not care if I am guilty of repetition.


The Sartorialist

Edit 10/3:
Photobucket kicked itself, so we're trying something different now. Booo, fail!

The Dress You Never Wore.

I've had this dress for almost a decade. My aunt bought it for me, I think to possible wear to a Freshman semi-formal dance, or maybe for 8th grade graduation. Since I was a skinny twig with all elbows and knees and head, it didn't fit. Finally, in the past few years it has been snug enough to look right--even if I have to admit this is because of snacking on sweets and not form some other magical garment-fitting-into ability. I should have gotten a proper shot of the back, since it's way low and has two bows affixed near the zipper.

It's a huge quandary of a dress. It's so obviously vintage, so obviously of it's time, that I've always had a hard time with it. I hate getting too costumy or too obviously 50s or 60s with it, and yet it doesn't seem like there is much option. No matter what I was never able to get rid of this dress, and tonight I finally wore it out. It's too dressy for most situations, but there was a work occasion to wear it, and so out it came (mostly because the gorgeous satin numero I wanted to wear fit me--ten pounds ago, and I had to adjust accordingly).

I figured I might as well be sort of carelessly literal about it. So poof went the hair, some red lips--which did not last, because of snacking--and my favorite pair of uncomfortable shoes. I'm still not sure about it--it makes me feel so sort of, aware of my body, in a strange way, which I guess is a good thing. I mean, I guess clothes should make one aware of something like their own body, yes? There is a line I think, between being self conscious in a bad way and aware that I think I'm thinking of. Because clearly clothes are no good if they obliterate that sense, and yet if it's too obvious, it's equally miserable.

In any case, velvet dresses are lovely.

Falling About.

(In real life I buttoned the cardigan, which looked infinitely better, but I forgot.)

Last weekend, or maybe it was the one before (I lost count) I found myself facing a weekend with no work. With that in mind the boyfriend and I trudged down to NYC, a week earlier than Fashion Week (which I'm not really fashionable or confident enough for anyway--it was nice enough to see the tents up early and sort of ignored) and ran around like mad cats. I escaped with a few things from Anthropologie--this mildly insane bag that I'm not so certain I would have bought if it wasn't 9pm and trying to get back for a train. But it's quite nice, and sort of fall-ish. I also have to admit that I'm quite excited to see how loudly it clashes against my bright winter coats, or even the solid black ones. It's kind of hideous, but I think that is what makes it awesome.



Don't worry, of course I still keep fussing over totes (which I almost spelled as 'toats') since no matter what they seem to be best for me. I think I forgot to mention that I ended up with this one, even if I wanted to twigs on as well, as a lovely birthday present from the aforementioned boyfriend.

I also must apologize for the slowness in my blogging. Sadly we lost our little kitty this week, my baby girl, and I am a little heartbroken about her. It seems also that all of the tragic things happen in one week because we've also had some other terrible emergencies. I'll be back to blogging regularly ASAP, because nothing makes anyone feel quite as good (even just a little bit) or forget about being cat-less like a nice little outfit. I'm also, of course, inspired and excited by the weather, and I finally got my hands on that movie I posted about so long ago, and even though some of it isn't very good, it's a nice little film.

Baby

Drawn to It.

(Factoid: I originally, wherever originally is, wanted to go to school for illustration, but because it is frustrating and not as easy for me as writing and also because I--as you can see--never finish anything, I scrapped that idea and the self from the above doodle. Much happier in the English/Writing sector of the world, even if it does make one a bit bookish and mad.)

My new favorite thing (for right this second) is the What I Wore Today (drawings only) group on flickr. It's basically awesome, and nice for those days when I cannot be bothered to take pictures of my outfit or none of the ones I do take come out satisfactory.

It's also nice for imaginary outfits. It's like self-paper dolls, although I have yet to do something like this, so that when the planned outfit gets spoiled or pushed back because of impending rain or weather that is warmer than the weather website said it was going to be (no bitterness here), one can doodle oneself draped in that ideal outfit and pretend it all went according to plan. There is that whole world of fashion illustration besides, with those big tomes of books that are so fun to look through, not just the finished products but the patterns and little jotted ideas. The latter are almost more charming than the glossy finished artworks, but that might just be in that they are so akin to our own funny little scribbles. It seems like fashion illustration exists in this really strange place of whimsy (not to subvert it's importance or anything) that is a little bit more entrancing, at times, than photography.

Kate of little doodles has posted to the group a few times and it's so quaint and awesome! And pssst, flickr user (that's a weird term but I can't come up with a better one ASAP) interludio is one of my instant faves.

I'm also reminded of a few posts from clever nettle. Not just doodling when one is without camera but also her fantastic frocks painted for her show. There is this funny thing that happens, like drawing the clothes or objects we want but can't, for whatever reason, does somehow work to make them ours anyway. I'm feeling a bit strange at the moment since we're coming out of the second week of classes and all sorts of lectures about objects and what objects are and objects of objects and all this weirdness that makes the word 'object' look and sound really strange the more times it happens.

Not to mention Fifi Lapin.

Bowing Out.

The mistake shots are always the ones I end up liking best. I'm attempting some new things clothing wise. A little less prim, a little more slouch. It's the same basic idea--still I want to be cute and ladylike, I want things to have a certain level of prim going on, but suddenly I want something a little less refined, a little more seemingly careless. It's all an illusion anyway, but you know.

I usually try not to buy things that show up on other blogs too much--I freely admit the desire to do so when you've seen someone else orient an outfit around such a piece--at least just because of that purpose, but I quite love this blouse (and strangely, its seems, noncommittal statements like that one) for its dusty rose color and funny floppy bow. It's just the sort of thing I've been looking for for ages, and since I have spent nary a penny at H&M in months, I figured I would be allowed. I haven't altered it as The Cherry Blossom Girl did, so if you're curious about what it looked like originally, here it is.

I suppose I've ripped off her entire outfit in a way. I plead guilty, although in my defense the pants are new and the roll is how they're styled on the website and in-store.

Rolling and cuffing is a whole new thing to me. I've been familiarly doing it with blouses and cardigans and light jackets, but adding it into the world of pants is a new thing. Blame all the men featured on The Sartorialist or something. It's nice, and it keeps my pants from dragging which I hate, hate, hate, hate. Especially when it rains. Wet pant hems irritate me and almost squick me out.



On an entirely, or slightly, different note, this foray into pants has (chinos are an entirely foreign world to me--I'm looking into jeans alternatives this year. Hmmm) increased my tiny face turning to fall. It's the same as every year, the excitement, but you know it never dwindles. I think I'm mostly excited to wear piles of eyeshadow again. It's not really practical in the summer. It just falls off and pools on lower lids, and at the very least it creases with eyelid sweat (which is really romantic and sultry sounding in short love stories where the girl isn't wearing eyeshadow, but vague eyeliner and some stupid summer dress or slip). I've been segueing into it with MAC's paint pots, the result above. I've wanted something brown and smudgy for a while, and it seems I've finally found it.

I Had a Dream that I Woke up, Remembered.

A Crazed Girl

THAT crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,

Her soul in division from itself
Climbing, falling She knew not where,
Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship,
Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare
A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing
Heroically lost, heroically found.

No matter what disaster occurred
She stood in desperate music wound,
Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph
Where the bales and the baskets lay
No common intelligible sound
But sang, 'O sea-starved, hungry sea.'

-William Butler Yeats