Friday, March 6, 2009

and then, there was tequila at the London hotel . . .

oh dear.
gail gilbert came to town.
which means heady discussions about film
and greek literature,
and danish furniture,
and editorial techniques.
and then we went to the london for drinks:
yeeeees.
you can see where this is going:
from there,
things got fun.
and fuzzy.

5 comments:

Michael said...

My eyes pricked (can eyes prick?) at the first glimpse of your jacket, but I was still holding it together until the final salvo/full fabulous disclosure in the last photo. That piece belongs in one of your porn posts.

cristy gods eyes said...

Girl, what the fuck is that? I am living for the jacket. Is it Carol Christain Powell? I want to see the closure on it. I have studied the enlarged photos, and it looks like a sort of prong folds through an eyelet…am I even close? I love an unconventional closure on just about anything. où l'avez-vous reçu? quelle saison? je suis complètement enveloppé dans votre veste! The cut is…perfection…crazy for a single button…it hasn’t slipped by me…you, my dear, are, purple, for, grey. Whatever that means.
Beautiful, dirty, rich…Just picked up the organza cape dress with the embroidered skull from Alexander McQueen. Ice cream topped with honey…
Oh, and the little holographic light ray ghosty thing on your shoulder from Wednesdays post…Those are way more common than you think.

landis smithers said...

ok, the jacket is a gift from timmer, it's by the viridi-anne, a japanese label i adore. it's camel skin, dyed dark gray, and yes, has hammered hook and eye closures. it's sick. sick sick sick. fits like a second skin, too.

no mcqueen cape dress, but pretty hot.

cristy . . . how do i get in touch with vous, petite??

cristy gods eyes said...

So, here is the lowdown, or here is what the lowdown would be if I were the kind of person with ‘lowdown’ in my vocabulary. I haven’t been back in LA since the earthquake in 94. I strongly believe that the ground beneath you should only move during hallucinations. I am repressed but remarkably dressed in London where I have lived for the last 10 years. My dear, and I mean this with the most sincerity – I have an email account but much like my cell phone I never use it. Private exchanges, personal notes, one on ones…anything lacking voyeuristic opportunity - it is impossible for me to communicate that way. It is all part of my severe social phobia. One of my greatest fantasies is to live contained in that bulletproofed pope mobile just speeding around town looking at everyone’s blurred faces and stares cheering with tears of joy and godlike worship as I half heartedly wave, looking bored and perfect in hardcore fashion that no one can afford. That is me in a nutshell. I have worked very hard to carve out my world of isolated perfection. I am plastic but I still have fun. I hope you can understand and will still play and allow me to work through my insomnia in the comments section of your wonderful blog.

Iheartfashion said...

That jacket...swoon!