Fashion films, oh, fashion films. I've always had a love/hate relationship with them. And just for the purpose of this post, I am speaking of short videos rather than a 90 minute video. I mean, in one aspect you'd guess, for someone who loves fashion, what is there to hate about fashion films? It must be heaven, right? Just minutes of pure concentration of the clothes. In most, you get to the the fabrics up close, how it flows and drapes and looks when worn.

And don't get me wrong, I'm easily amused. But not with fashion films. I've always felt that most are too commercialised. Some, on the other hand, are fantastic. Nowness usually has a lot of good ones up. And Opening Ceremony. Especially Opening Ceremony. That might just need a another post on its own (Humberto and Carol, I love you!).

In all honesty, I think this Shakuhachi clip above feels a little Gareth Pugh wannabe. And I mean.. the walk, the wind, the weird electro sound, Pugh has been doing it for years.

ps. I have labeled this post 'Judged' because that's how I'm going to label posts where I feel like I'm letting out steam and word-vomitting onto a post in a sort of criticising way about all sorts of things. I live in a small town and has anger problems is rage-y, it's natural.

I want to be somewhere cold.

Cold enough to wear a beanie and go crazy on tights and thigh highs at American Apparel.

(Private pictures)

A friend and I were having this discussion about books. Actually, my love for books. Same diff.

Then I started going off on a tangent and said: "Gosh, I miss the secondhand bookstores in Melbourne. They are scary and romantic in a way."

Like empty train stations at night. That was going be my next sentence but this was with a guy friend, and guy friends are always telling me that looking at me like I'm so over-thinking life and shit. And what's the point of having a blog if you can't pure a load of emotional/philosophical/worse-than-pathetic utterance all over it!

Back to empty train stations. Y' know, because I'm artistic and imaginative as a bag of rainbow gummybears, I tend to dream up these scenerios where:

a) I get stalked by this beast of a man

b) a rapist is chasing after me

c) a group of druggies demand that I join them or else they will stab me with their dirty needles

I mean, that's scary. Right?

Right.

On the other hand, what is more romantic than (and this is a real story) a seemingly normal night after a gig when I was dragging myself to Platform 2 in my sky-high, studded, distressed leather red boot clogs (amen), they decided to spin Norah Jones.

That moment fucking changed my life.

Homemade. Yes.

someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here someone get me out of here

I thought that might look a little less depressing if it was in coral. What do you think?

I'm turning 21 and I'm stuck in my house with nothing to do but listen to Toro Y Moi (which is the only thing that eases my pain right now). I was thinking of editting my fake American Apparel campaign but the counterfeited copy of Adobe Indesign I got from the market doesn't work so I'm planning to do that while at my traineeship lunchbreak on tuesday after the public holiday Monday (I will appreciate being in Thailand, for once, next week because we will have both Monday and Thursday off for public holiday).

Things I wouldn't mind doing right now:

Being dressed in anything but pajamas.

Owning an apartment. Spending five years away from does that to you I guess. Solitude is bliss.

Buy a cat. I'm discovering the grandma in me.

Dye my hair pink (again). Actually, this can be filed under What I Will Do When Father Send Me to Business School For MBA.

LOVE

Tonight I found someone's eyebrow pencil (sorry, Mother) in the drawers and decided to give myself some freckles. The look I was going for was Liu Wen on Chloe Fall/Winter runway and not some diseased bitch...

As it turns out, I am no make up expert. And being the helpful sister that you have always wished you had (I know you do) I will let you on a little secret I stumbled across.

INTO THE GLOSS

Oh yes. This is no "lots of water is my beauty secret" bullcrap. These girls actually give you the low down on their trading secrets. Effective moisturisers, favourite scents to source of the sold-out Chanel nail varnishes, there is nothing to lose and everything to gain.

You know you want to.

Firstly, let me get this out of the way.... WHAT IN THE WHAT!!?@#$%^&*()(

Now that we are over with that. @#$%^&*()*&&*^*&^(*& WHY KARL? Why mess with your flawless record? Magnum and Chanel just doesn't flow. At least not in my hood.

Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate the beautiful cinematography but dang, the plot is little more than hideous. Don't even get me going on the 'acting' in this video. IT'S ALL HAPPENING, ISN'T IT? The lovely Baptiste Giabiconi cannot act to save his life. And gosh, Rachel Bilson. I loved her in The O.C., she is everyone's favourite all American girl type. But that's that, she should just stick with The O.C.