Archive for February, 2011

February 11, 2011

White frocks and frolicking. And angels.

11pm and I promised a post up today.

Welcome to my idea of ‘making the deadline’.

I used to be better at this. I’m sure I was.  High school assignments finished before 10pm; undergrad assignments finished before 2am; Honours… erm. Started at 2am? Ah. I see. What a horrible development.

So! Time to bash out a post before 1am. Let’s see, let’s see, let’s see.

Did very little today. Met up with my thesis supervisor, scored a free book, and borrowed Doctor Who DVDs and Diana Wynne Jones books from the library. Entertainment for the week is definitely set!

Here are some snippets of my outfit:

The hat is Valerie’s. I was only wearing it because we had just come out of the car and she doesn’t wear her hats when she’s driving. My shoes are wonderful and are from Wittner. Their purchase came around as a bit of an accident, really — I went in to get this pair of heeled brogues and then came out with something else entirely. I have yet to find the ideal pair of heeled brogues. I think they need to feel a bit more sleek. And with a lower vamp. One day!

The bow was originally a brooch from Lovisa. I replaced the pin with an alligator hairclip and lo, instant hairclip or brooch. Nifty or what. My nails are sporting OPI’s All Lacquered Up, which is deep brown-based red. I think I might wear a taupe colour next time, just to let the champagnes and blacks bounce off each other differently.

The dress is from Alannah Hill and it is called ‘Devil in Disguise’. I’ve worn it before with a green slip underneath (here). This is actually one of the first times I’ve worn it out with its original cream slip. It’s quickly becoming one of my favourite dresses, particularly because of the movement of the skirt:


It wasn’t even windy, you guise. There was like. No. Wind. Just walking. How awesome is that. (or maybe there was wind and I forgot. I can’t remember.)


Who watches Doctor Who? Good. And who’s seen ‘Blink’, the weeping angel statues episode? Mmm. And WHO’S SEEN THE ONE WHERE THEY COME BACK? If you’ve seen ‘Blink’, you know what I’m imitating in the next shot. (Or is it more than imitating?)

If you aren’t a Doctor Who fan… there are these scary statues of weeping angels. They go around covering their faces and if you look away… BAM. YOU’RE DOOMED. (You really should give the show a try; it is really Quite Awesome.)

And those of you who have seen the Other Episode in Which They Appear (Time of the Angels? Or something?) — you know how [highlight between the tags — spoilers] >they get embedded in your brain when you look into their eyes? (And what negligence and asshattery from Moffat, giving us closeups of the angels’ eyes when Amy is stuck with the video image. NOW WE ALL HAVE ANGELS EMBEDDED IN OUR EYE MEMORY, MOFFAT; WELL DONE, YOU PRAT.) Yeah. Well. I looked. And…< [/spoilers]


Don’t. Blink.


(Also. I really need a tshirt that says ‘The angels have the phone box.’)

February 7, 2011

Valerie tweets the day

I fear my outfit posts will be a bit rare for the next few days — wait till, say, February the 17th, when uni work officially starts (and procrastination becomes the activity for the day). I have bought these shoes recently, which look far better in real life than they do online:

They’re from Wittner and are my new favourite shoes, though they don’t work with everything I own. The white part is closer to a yellow-toned beige* than a flat white, so the contrast isn’t so stark. I’ll be wearing them on Thursday and will take outfit shots then!

(*Wittner calls them ‘flesh’ or ‘nude’ or something. I prefer not to use the phrase ‘nude’ to describe that palette of colours, as it suggests that white skin is neutral and default and the norm… thus rendering skintones other than white, well, ‘other’. There are ‘normal’ flesh tones,  and there are ‘special’ flesh tones. Like Asian skintones. They’re not normal; they’re Asian. Pfft, Asians being normal; how absurd. Frak’s sake, fashionsphere, Crayola changed the name of their crayon from ‘flesh’ to ‘peach’. The crayons are beating you at being socio-culturally aware!)

Till then, I’m giving you bits of Valerie. Who has incidentally begun taking notes on what I say, in case she can use them for… who knows what. For now, they will live on the bloggie XD.


Valerie tweets the day!


10.59: A. gasped. ‘The entire world… IS A COMPUTER. AAAH. Oh my god! Valerie!  I’m a genius! Oh wait. Wait. Douglas Adams wrote that. Mice.’

11.15: Is bemused. Why is A. on the bed behind a wall of pillows? — Ah. Apparently, it’s a fort.

1.25: Valerie ducked behind the walls of her pillow-castle. She could hear Andrea scrabbling about on the floor beneath the bed. The plan: A. would likely attack weaker side; upon attack, sock A. with pillow. Unless A. comes up from behind, in which case…erm…

1.26: A. comes up from behind.

1.27: Screamed. Then A. screamed. Why.

1.28: V. thinks that her brother can probably hear their terrified screams from the living room.




Ah, uni life. Play hard, (avoid) study harder.

February 5, 2011

Childhood terrors

I’m a big Alice in Wonderland fan. I found the text funny and whimsical, and the Disney film wasn’t too bad, either.

Valerie, however, is adamant that Alice in Wonderland is (one of) the Most Terrifying Works of Fiction Ever to be Unleashed on the World. So terrifying that she can’t articulate it without dissolving into a flailing mass of arms, so she says that I should quote this bit from (the ever awesome) TV Tropes:

‘This troper would like to say that he found the entire concept scary as hell: getting stuck in a strange realm wherein one cannot communicate logic or reason or follow any sort of consistent rules to escape (since the rules change all the time), especially if the said realm is ruled by a deranged tyrant obsessed with beheading people and is impossibly quick to anger… with no hope of getting help from the denizens of the realm and no prayer of finding a way out, is this troper’s nightmare. As this troper basically feeds on logic, he finds it extremely nightmarish. The fact that it’s All Just A Dream is further scary because the troper now believes Wonderland is a manifestation of the collective unconscious and is thus accessible to everyone.’

Now, I personally think they’re both mad, but logic and I aren’t the best of friends. Established logic, anyway. Once Valerie and I were heating milk and it (possibly) curdled. ‘Is it okay to eat?’ said Valerie. ‘I don’t know,’ said I. ‘Actually. It’s probably fine. Little Miss Muffet ate curds and whey and she didn’t die. At least. It’s not part of the song. And if she died it was probably because the spider bit her.’

(Disclaimer: we were fine, but it won’t mean you will be. Cooking isn’t my forte. I don’t even know if it was curdled or… something else. Please don’t eat things because I said I did and it was fine. I try bits from LUSH Cosmetics things, for crying out loud. —Whattheylookgood.)


I think she’s rather strange for it, but apparently she’s not the only one. I hope you don’t agree with her because every time someone agrees with her, I’m faced with ‘I TOLD YOU SO!’ I’ve tried to tip the scales in my favour, which is why I’ve polluted this post with multiple whimsical Alice-themed pictures.

Not Alice-themed, but I haven’t shared an outfit in eons and the guilt is consuming me. You’ve no idea. I’ve a litany of excuses but you don’t want to hear them, so…! Picture time! Only one photo, though, because it’s been far too hot to prance around outside.


Apologies for my tendency to wander out of frame. I don’t think I have the ability to sit still when Valerie takes photos. In this photo, I’m wearing the usual suspects: a cherry Puff the Magic Dragon cardigan, a pink Adorable Wafer Girl cami, and the red heels with their little DIY bow. I need to replace those heels, actually, so if anyone sees a pair of red suede heels (4″, with or without platform) with a rounded toe, give me a shout.

The shorts, which I haven’t posted before, are the Gorgeous Geisha shorts from Spring/Summer 07. They’re actually my only pair of shorts, and I use them quite often in summer, so I should really get more.

I’m also clutching a wallet from the last Alannah Hill season — it’s called ‘All the Pretty Girls’ and I can fit my entire life into it, which is awesome. (Entire life involves money and iPod Touch, by the way, because I live on the internet and an iPod Touch is the best and slimmest internet-receiving device for wallets. No phone. I carry that. But I check my email more than I check my phone.)

Here’s a more detailed shot. You can see the belt I was wearing, too — Little Picket Fences in red:

I wore this outfit on my birthday (quite a while ago now!), when Valerie and I went to Newtown for breakfast, wandering and visits to Enmore’s Cow and Moon artisan gelato and general deliciousness place. It was hot but the gelato was amazing. Try the panna cotta flavour. And the papaya one. And the lime. It tastes like… lime. It actually does. I can’t describe how amazingly freshly lime it tastes. Dear god.

And their baked ricotta cheesecake is the only cheesecake I’m happy to eat.

Oh, I really want cheesecake now. AAAUGH. THE CRAVINGS. And all I have is a bottle of freshly squeezed watermelon juice, which, while all levels of awesome, isn’t ricotta cheesecake. How sad.

Valerie also bought herself this fun watch with an interchangeable silicon strap. You’ll find them at Monster Threads. Fun shop. Good shop. Go look.


I have no Newtown spoils to share, but I will leave you with another shot and another story.

At about 9.00 in the morning, my chat alert beeps and I see ‘come over nao?’ pop up on my screen. Fifteen minutes later, Valerie comes into my room and we discuss great and important issues, like what to have for breakfast and do we feel like doing anything today and by the way there are three tables sitting outside your front door; are they new and should we bring them inside? (My parents are forever collecting things. One of Valerie’s favourite pastimes involves spotting the new finds.)

On my birthday, I walked into the kitchen to find Valerie acting rather suspicious. ‘DON’T LOOK!’ said she, and I complied. I closed my eyes, backed out of the kitchen and promptly collided with the piano in the living room — and the piano is a solid wood 19th century monster of an instrument, by the by, so the collision was painful.

‘Do you have a permanent marker?’ she called from the kitchen. I gave her one, eyes firmly shut. ‘Thank you! DON’T LOOK!’

And then the sound of match-head striking matchbox, and a triumphant call: ‘You can come see now.’


‘Tis a happy egg, inspired  by Valerie’s favourite internet song, and the one internet song that baffles me more than anything else: ‘I Love Egg‘. It has… well. Eggs. Dancing. And. Turning into things. And.

It’s really just very baffling.

And the fact that I find it absurd?

That’s saying a lot.