Friday night, after Ryan and I came home from a gorgeous love-soaked/heat-stroke of a black + white rooftop wedding—too exhausted to take a Cheep photo—I slept in this (sans the hat). I woke up at 6:20 am, sweaty cakey makeup and all, thinking, “What the hell why not. Just put on the hat.” I struggled in the half-light for awhile, almost giving up, then this gorgeous glow infused everything for a time-ticking/camera-dying number minutes. Behold, I finally witnessed the golden hour of the morning. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this up/productive this early. Nice day (post a black +) white wedding. (Cue Billy Idol.) Calvin Klein black cotton w/ white stitched breast pocket – $5, Idaho Youth Ranch thrift store | vintage 1960s Sears Millinery white straw w/ black velvet ribbon hat -$25, In Retrospect | DKNY platform wedges – $20, Idaho Youth Ranch thrift store The red Apocalypse Now chair is mine. I am slowly creeping in over the threshold. Cheep it up.
In the thick of the most intense snow and ice storms seen in Boise in decades, every morning I send a heat-seeking missile into my closet to find the thing that will cover me most thoroughly. I’ll forsake fashion for warmth like a caveman, when the temperature drops below 20 degrees. Fortunately, there’s plenty of velvet jumpsuits, in the case of my particular closet. Like I’m a sexy 70’s cavegirl, found perfectly preserved (and voguing) under this ice block. vintage 1970s Ronni Nicole Petite by Ouida black velvet jumpsuit – $30, Red Light Clothing Exchange (Portland, OR) | Banana Republic cream lace camisole, ReStyle, $3 | leopard print rubber boots – gift, from Jane Newby (New York) | Black & gold arrow banded belt – $0.94, ReStyle thrift store Cheep Jane.
Red hot with some solid gold balls. Working it. Disclaimer: Not actually my office holiday party outfit, which had a flashy sewn-in pearl collar, as one often sees in the workplace. vintage Pendleton red wool skirt – $5, I can’t remember which thrift store; Mei Ji Li Na gold polka dot on black poly-mesh turtleneck top – $3, ReStyle thrift store | Frye deep brown leather riding boots – $125, Vinyl of the Holiday Party: I talked my work into having a vinyl-themed holiday party, and we all dug “The Nutcracker,” so Tchaikovsky’s “Swan Lake” is the closest thing I have at home.
“From This World to That Which Is to Come; Delivered under the Similitude of a Dream” – subhead of Pilgrim’s Progress Why is it—with all our privileged pilgrim’s progress and all our fever dreams of thanksgiving—that we always have to look back, repeating, “What have we done?” vintage, label cut off sheer tan & pink tie-collar peacock dress – $35, Pursuing Andie online vintage boutique | vintage Lorraine bright pink petticoat – $3, ReStyle thrift store | Minnetonka studded leather boots, some gift shop place in the deserts of Utah (last season sale), $30 Vinyl of the day: Blood on the Tracks – Bob Dylan Cheep, all you pilgrims.
I’m sure it’s not easy growing up as any type of human, or lifeform for that matter, but evolving as a woman is a real mindfuck. A real onion of a mindfuck that only reveals itself over time through the tear-stinging process of peeling off—layer by layer—the stink of utter societal and historical bullshit, already seeping through your skin. Though probably somewhere in the deep internet of my brain, it blew my mind anew that women were only “granted” the right to vote in this country in 1920. #seriouslywhatthefucketyfuckingfuck! I voted this year so teary-eyed grateful for all the daring suffragettes like Susan B. Anthony. And to all the women throughout time—especially in this last 96 years in the US—who kept pushing forward in the face of a roar of disdain, dismissiveness, derision. To bring me, us, here. Today. “Now they’re gonna hear me roar,” Katy Perry and Hillary Clinton would say. You go girl. (Hopefully as I am currently freaking the fuck out.) vintage Liz Claiborne white tuxedo jacket w/ “I voted” sticker, $1 (sale) – ReStyle thrift store | Forever 21 …
Bob Dylan won the Nobel Prize in Literature today. I squealed like a schoolgirl at a Beatles concert. Or I should say, a Bob Dylan concert. I love Bob Dylan. I first saw him at 18 with my dad & he hit lit something on fire in me—with that nasal voice, those brilliant lyrics, that effortless scathing genius. I took him into my subconscious & into the wilderness. I wrote college papers comparing his writing to Walt Whitman’s. I memorized the battle-rap-like lyrics of “Subterranean Homesick Blues” on a long daily commute from the cow-dung hell of Caldwell to the corporate hell of DirecTV. I soundtracked my last break-up with Blood on the Tracks & Blonde on Blonde. Thanks & cheers to you, Bob Dylan, the true love of mine. Oh, what’ll you do now, my blue-eyed son? Oh, what’ll you do now, my darling young one? I’m a-goin’ back out ’fore the rain starts a-fallin’ I’ll walk to the depths of the deepest black forest Where the people are many and their hands are all empty Where the pellets of poison …
Fill this in like a mad libs. Last gasp of: ____. Fall colors. Summer blossom dresses. Our democracy? Alice Polynesian Fashions orange & pink blossom print cotton dress – $7-$15, I can’t remember if this is from a yard sale or thrift store | Chia orange leather Victorian bomber jacket – $7.99 Serendipity Boutique vintage 1980s? Made in Korea | Frye ‘Sacha Moto’ black leather shootie – $100 (MSRP: $278), Bombshell Salon‘s Head to Boots Fall Make-Up Event Cheep, cheep.