Excited dance.  We have tickets to see Beirut in mid-October.  Very excited dance.  I never embraced the bohemian look, I think partly because I’d been amply exposed to the authentic version of it living in Prague, and partly because tiers on skirts are not for the stumpy of leg.  However, with Beirut’s eastern European sound in my ears, the idea of bundling up in a style reminiscent of a Romanov is suddenly appealing to me.

Apparently the trend is very much over, but it’s easy to find it’s remnants in major retailers.  This pleated skirt is very peasant-like.  I could see this at some sort of spring festival with garlands and beer ever ready.  To look less like you belong in a gulag, velvet gives a richer appearance but keeps that old country charm:

Of course, there are always great vintage finds, like this rich tapestry coat from Luciferra.  The fur shawl collar gives it a very rich, Russian steppes look.

(Both the skirt and coat are from La Redoute, a brand actually based in Bohemia*!)

[*just kidding]

I love my boots.

No, I love my boots.

I’d been lusting after these for nearly two months but had a vacation to save up for.  Now that I’ve finally bought them, it’s over 70 degrees here!  I have never wished for fall to start as badly as I do now.  I’ll do a rain dance.  I’ll fast.  Whatever it takes.  Just give me the weather to wear my boots.

This girl was in a set of Facehunter pictures. I can’t tell if her sweater is a wrap or if the tie is simply decorative.  But I love how long it is and am determined to make it.

Another in a looooong list of knitting projects.

My hands discuss Kant’s theory presupposing human knowledge.

Also, the beginnings of a scarf and my first sweater.

The scarf is in a ripple pattern from 99 Knitting Stitches. The sweater is from Baby Knits for Beginners by Debbie Bliss (which I think everyone has.)  I had to play around with the gauge but I’m still not sure it won’t be too big.  Eh.  He’ll grow into it.

A best friend who also happens to be a graphic designer constantly seems to include octopi in his doodles.  When I would stumble across anything cephalopod related, I would always send it to him.  Preshrunk  has devoted plenty of time to squid and octopi on tees, but I was pleased to find them turning up, well, every where.

A quick search on Etsy  turns up octopi as crochet:

On totes:

And of course, as jewelry:

This , however, is by far my favorite.

Anything too high maintenance has never appealed to me.  I don’t own a blow dryer, and despite having distinctly unmanageable hair , I never spend more than 30 minutes getting ready for work.  I do wear make-up, but tend to have a light hand.  Maybe it’s because I grew up in the notoriously low maintenance Northwest, or because I’m the descendant of hippie farmers.  I’ve simply never wanted to spend that much time in the bathroom.

However, I always have time for perfume.  I usually have one scent I wear faithfully, but a friend has shown me the light of mixing things up.  My favorite at the moment is Prada, and I’m beginning to run out of Marc Jacob’s Blush.  But I recently discovered I’m also in love with the mild, freshly feminine smell of L’Occitane’s Green Tea with Jasmine Eau de Toilette.  

I would have purchased this while browsing around the airport in Houston.  But, you know, it might have been a bomb.

Silhouettes are stark, interesting, and, depending on the medium, classic in style. I was drawn to two prints of ships in silhouette, a sharp contrast to the usual subject matter of womens’ profiles or cowboys on horses.  I passed on buying them, however, as my studio has such limited wall space.

Clearly, though, the medium is catching on. I was surprised to find it in forms other than print, such as this sweater from Delias:

Similar to silhouettes are cameos. I’ve been on the hunt for one without too much glitter or gilding, something simple I can use as a pendant or brooch. Unfortunately, the few decent options on ebay get bid far beyond what I can pay. Besides, I think I’m inclined to mix it up a little & get something more unexpected.

So Much Yarn always has exactly what I need.  Perfect colors, just as I pictured them in my head.

I’ve been promising an old roommate a package for nearly a year.  The scarf I’d intended for her didn’t turn out as I’d imagined (so much for ribbon yarn) and I was worried the hand socks (or fingerless gloves according to Weekend Knitting)  I’d made were too big.  But enough fretting.  It’s time to get the package out.

From left to right: grey wool hand socks, a bracelet of red, white, & silver, a card, CD and sachet of brown wool and green tweed.

I stopped buying cards years ago, preferring to throw together collages from whatever materials I have on hand.  The front of Hannah’s card is an oversize postcard of a Parisian cafe.

My favorite part is the fisherman from a postcard I bought at a gas station on the peninsula.  The picture clearly dates from 20 years ago, the squinting fisherman sporting a feathered ‘do that’s circled back in trendiness and landed on the heads of Seattle’s hipsters.

Hopefully Hannah will enjoy.

There’s something spiffy about oxfords (‘brogues’ to the Brits, a word I’m always tempted to say with a Scottish accent as this is it’s homophone).  I’ve owned many pairs, mostly as a teenager:   black Easy Spirits that I threw away at the age of thirteen when I saw them on multiple old women, suede slip ons that were destroyed by the Seattle rain, and of course, brown Doc Marten’s that I wore with chunky wool socks.  I probably looked like a Clydesdale.

My eye still gets caught by the style, especially when accompanied by any detailed stitching or perforations.  Often, though, the sole is clunky or the design so masculine that I’m sure people will think I’ve stolen them from my boyfriend.  However, a quick search turned up these:

Aren’t they darling?  And at less than 50.00, I might just have to get them.

Knitting generally loses it’s appeal in spring and summer.  I’ve never been one to buy next years Christmas gifts in January, and have never been disciplined enough to keep knitting when it‘s warm out.  Having recently re-discovered a bead store near my apartment, I decided to make simple necklaces for two friends of mine with spring and summer birthdays.  It seemed an easy but still creative alternative to knitted gifts.

Six months later, I was being given beads by all & sundry.  It appears every girl dabbles with seed beads and charms at some point.  I could only hope, as I accepted the donations, that my interest wouldn’t be as fleeting.

This is one of the first results of the donations.  I used a mixed bag of gold colored beads of varying sizes with four fish pendants I’d bought when I was fifteen.  They were two dollars a piece at the time and I bought more than ten; after I’d lost interest in beading, the expense more than anything forced me to hang on them.

I’m glad I did as I’m rather happy with how this turned out.

Now I have to figure out what to do with the rest of the fish.

La Coquette is responsible for revealing the charm of the peter pan collar to me.  I took instant notice of the 50s femininity of the look and began searching for something similar.  Unfortunately, most thrift stores are still carrying the satin camisoles and lacy Victorian blouses that were so huge in the last couple of years.

Sadly, the only place I can seem to find anything with such a collar is a place I’ve avoided since high school.

However, I am completely in love with this:

Love the collar, love the empire waist, and dig the print.  Damn.

My hand says, ‘Rawr.’

A soft camel yarn actually used for the project it was bought for.  I used the pattern for the child’s size because they looked so enormous in the pictures.  Maybe I’ll do the adult version as an oven mitt.

I love kelly green.

And can’t help but drool for sweet heels with the menswear detail I love.

Or this silk mini dress from Mel’s Shoppe on ebay.

As an expat, it’s difficult not to develop an us (even if that concept is a bizarre amalgamation of Irish, American, Canadian, South African & Scottish) vs. them mentality.  This is especially true of clothes, the most obvious indicator of who is from where.  Once you’ve been in a community full of expats, tourists, and locals, the game of ‘Guess the hometown before they speak & give it away with their accent’ never loses it’s appeal.

Czech women almost always gave away their nationality with their pointy, pointy shoes (as well as a love of spider-like mascara and boy hips.)  As someone with wide feet and a love of the pin-up femininity of round toes, I disdained their witchy looking feet.

In Prague, the pointed toe shoe was inescapable.  Anything free of a toe that could take out an eye was inevitably rather German hausfrau in style.

Even Stacey & Clinton could not bring me to believe that a pointed toe could look good on my feet.  Though I’m short, it seemed farfetched to think that a mere shoe could elongate my legs to the point that it would create any illusion of height.

I remained under this impression until last Sunday, when, at one of the Madre’s favorite consignment shops, I threw on a pointed toe kitten heel.  My desire to even pick them up was based on the heel entirely; I’ve yet to meet a kitten heel I didn’t like.  The Madre exclaimed, ‘That changes your whole look!’  Hobbling to the mirror, I was shocked to find I agreed with her.

My jeans and white trench were transformed into something dressy and definitely sexy.  Since then, I have been on the hunt for a pointed toe kitten heel.

They’re mines.  Thank you, ebay.

I have entered the fray.