Happy New Year!

Addicted to Polyvore

Oh dear.

My eyes hurt.

But I just completed my first polyvore and it's so purdy!

Okay, time to rest my eyes and get some caffeine. I hope you like it. It all started out with the perfume I'm obsessed with and progressed from there. Polyvore asks you to describe the occasion during which you would wear your outfit. I wrote "to exact my revenge." Because I'm creepy like that.


Lady Vengeance by serenakay

Unguent

As a humungous book nerd, I have come across so many words that I'd like to use in speech but I have no idea how to pronounce them. This is embarassing, but I'll relay this little gaffe from grade 7. Reading aloud in Social Studies class about the Battle of Whatsitcalled, I come to the word chaos. "In the chaos of the battle..." Well, I pronounced it CHAH-oes. No one was the wiser except the teacher, who laughed at me. Damn you Mrs. Sookro! Damn you to hell! How was I supposed to know how it was pronounced? No one uses chaos or epitome or unguent in everyday speech!

Anyways, I just stumbled upon Forvo. It's a site that claims to have all the words in the world, pronounced and recorded by native speakers of whatever language you may choose. Seriously, I pretty much jizzed in my pants. Don't worry, I've calmed down a little, enough to write this post anyways.

Fellow word-nerds, enjoy!

Under the Influence

You know it's coming. I'm a little behind on the times but I just ordered the Olsens' new book Influence. I'm not too sure why, but I really like books on style. Mayhap it's because I just like books in general? The psuedo-academic approach to style and shopping has always appealed to me, probably because I love lists and organization. God, such a Virgo.

I've been thinking about my personal style a lot lately. It's always been pretty fluid, encompassing a little bohemian, some hipster 'chic', some ladylike... but having recently cleaned out my wardrobe, it all seemed so disorganized and schizo. I'm all for experimentation and I've enjoyed trying out different looks, but I feel the need now to narrow it down so I can start buying pieces that will last and will all come together more cohesively. Oh man, I sound like a grown-up. I guess I kind of am. I'm done my undergrad and I'll be hitting the grown-up work world in a matter of months for which I will probably need a suit... Okay, I just shivered a little. I'm not ready for a suit.

Anyways, I was browsing through the Lucky magazine Guide to Mastering any Style and they seem to have gotten my style down. They call it "Posh Eclectic" but I like to think of it as an eccentric and inappropriately dressed European aristocrat who raids her grandmother's attic for accessories. Another style they dissect is the Bombshell. So I guess I'd be two-thirds Posh Eclectic, one-third Bombshell.

The only bad thing about narrowing down my style is that I want to go shopping when I really shouldn't.

The Jacket of Destiny

This is just eerie. Yesterday at the consignment store I work at, I grabbed a bunch of clothing that was recently consigned and ready to go out onto the floor. I put everything in its rightful place until I was left with one garment. I looked down at the soft, buttery black velvet jacket and saw that it literally had my name on it. The brand was Serena Kay (Kay is my middle name) and the label said 'made in Paris'. I'm a total francophile so this added to the perfection. The real test would come when I tried it on.

Choirs of angels sang! A light shone down on me! It fit perfectly!

I had to possess the jacket. Of course, knowing my luck, it was $189 even secondhand but my boss is wonderful and saw the magnificent coincidence (or fashion fate?) and gave me a discount on top of my staff discount. I still had to put it on layaway but soon, it will be mine. And when it is mine, I shall photograph it and post the picture for all to see!

I also did a little research on Serena Kay and it turns out it's a new-ish brand that has one location in Paris. Their online lookbook reveals that, while my Jacket of Destiny is well-made and beautiful, I would not take a second look at anything else they have to offer! It could be the styling or the model, but it all seems a bit... bimbo-tastic? This may just be the wannabe French snob in me, but it doesn't have that easy Gallic elegance that makes me love the French aesthetic. Ah well. I'll still check them out the next time I go to Paris.

The search is on, baby!

Once again, I am coveting an item I can't find anywhere! It's so bittersweet yet so fun to go tramping around, trying to locate this specific thing I want so much. I feel a bit like a detective, actually. In a frivolous sort of way, since I'm attempting to solve shoe mysteries rather than crime mysteries.

My latest obsession is a pair of high heeled, lace-up ankle boots. They must be black and they must not look like pointy witch boots. They must have a bit of chunkiness, but still be feminine. They must also be comfy. This is going to be difficult.

Of course, I can't have these boots, as they are gracing the feet of Agathe, formerly of Stylebytes. I think it was this picture that originally sparked my obsession last fall but I kind of forgot about them having given up the fruitless search last year. But not this year - this year I am determined!

These are from Colin Stuart for Victoria's Secret. They're alright. They have the general feel I want, but as is fitting for a lingerie store, they're a bit too vampy. And also probably uncomfortable. Although I love the sturdy lacing, they're just not quite right.

These boots from Nine West are just about perfect. The heel isn't too high, they're rugged but still feminine; they might have a little too much going on but generally, they're cute. However, here's the rub - although we have Nine West in Canada, these boots are not available! Why?! They're also unavailable online. Quel misere! All is not lost though, my dears! I may be able to convince my boyfriend to drive me to a mall just over the border in the States. It'll only be an hour drive so he should be amenable. This may be my chance to get if not these boots, then the boots. God, this is getting to be a dramatic post...

And then there are these beauties. They are from Tod's and accordingly they are $665. I'm not wild about the patent and I'm definitely sickened by the price, but I bet they are so comfortable. Like walking on marshmallows or babies' bums. Except that last one would be cruel. And probably poopy. Sorry, I think I stayed up too late last night.

So this is where my search has brought me. Not much closer to my goal of fulfilling my obsession, but I have a few leads, a few facts to check... And I have a mission...

New Direction

Image courtesy of postsecret.blogspot.com

I'm lost. Or, I have been lost. I've come to the endpoint of seventeen years of schooling and found that I'm still poor, still directionless and still scared - just like I was before I graduated with my degree. Today, a very no-nonsense person in my life told me to snap out of it. Just snap out of it. My first thought was, "Well, it's easier said than done." But that's cowardice. And I've always been brave. Like, weird brave. Example: when I was in high school, I was not cool. I was skinny and knobby but not in the right places and I had crushes on boys who were way out of my league in the social hierarchy of secondary school. But at every dance, without fail, I was able to muster the courage to ask the boy I liked to dance. And they always said yes. I'm not entirely sure why, but I'd like to think it was my confidence. I was fearless. I went for what I wanted. Sure, the next Monday I was just as tongue-tied as ever but I would smile to myself, remembering my bravery.

So it's like that, but bigger now. I've got the boy, now I need to get the life. I'm a writer. I didn't realize it until this morning, when that wonderful, sweet, no-nonsense person told me to get off my fucking ass and make it happen. Her words, not mine. And it's funny, because my friends have been describing me as a writer for years: "Oh yeah, my friend Serena is a writer." Really? I thought, is that really what I am? Yes. Yes. So I'll try and maybe I'll fail but who the fuck cares? I can be a professor or a receptionist or an entrepreneur any old time, but I want to be a writer now.

I guess the point of this self-indulgent little tirade is that this blog may become less about fashion and more about whatever I feel like writing about. I'm going to be self-indulgent, but I'm also going to kick my own ass and stop shying away from my biggest talent and passion just because I'm afraid. Fuck that.

Tirade over.

And for my second act of self-indulgence, I put up this secret from Postsecret. So. True. Ha!