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Current inspiration: studs
Current project: studded collar —
There used to be this wonderful store in Downtown Royal Oak called The Cat's Meow. It was independently owned by Keith & Nancy Hay & was headquarters for quality incense & gutter-punk/monster/greaser merchandise, all reasonably priced or negotiable. Keith & Nancy were the greatest! When I caught the stud-bug & decided that I absolutely needed to take something & make more points than the local debate teams, something glimmering with angst & piss & vinegar (in a totally classy, demure way, naturally), the first place I thought of to buy studs was The Cat's Meow.
Too bad they closed when I was in middle school (though, while searching for a link to a review or a picture of the storefront, I discovered they now have an online store, which I encourage you to check out), on account of Keith traveling south to fulfill his dream of being a war reenactor or something (which, by the way, deserves all the congratulatory measures in world; I mean, who do you know who's really done exactly what they wanted to do in life?), leaving me in a studless dust.
I browsed around a bit, & saw that Andrew over at Pull Teeth (another self-proclaimed stud-bug victim) recommended Studs & Spikes. He said, Shipping was a little extreme but I ordered last Thursday and I got my box of goodies on Monday. Can't beat that! However, being the cheap little half-Jewbaby/whole-eBay-addict that I am, I knew I had to do some searching for the lowest price possible. Lo & behold, I came across Spikes & Leather on eBay. A lot of their items have free shipping, & I found a thousand US-77 cones (AC used UK-77's, I believe, but I thought the US-77's would be more feminine & unobtrusive for my collar project, as they're flatter than the UK-77's) for less than (by coin, but still less than) the price of a bag of five-hundo on Studs & Spikes! I just ordered & paid for them, so we'll see how long it takes them to get here. But, I'm willing to wait an extra day or so to get double the product for half of the price..just sayin'.
However, tomorrow is Sunday which means most thrift stores aren't open. I might invest in a new white oxford, though. It's so hard for me to find shirts like that that fit my pocket-elf-sized body in second-hand places. &, I mean, if I'm going to spend all of this time & finger-energy on a studded-collared oxford, I might as well get one that fits perfectly. Am I right or am I right or am I looking for an excuse to go shopping again? I don't care either way, I just hope this turns out well & I'm excited to pair it with my new black sweater.
In other news, last night was the WOUND Menswear runway event at the Detroit Institute of Arts. The Facebook invitation said that it was at eight & the afterglow would be at ten. Being logical, we figured it'd be doors at eight, show at nine, afterglow at ten, so we arrive at ten-until-nine to a slightly condescending, it just ended from the woman at the counter. Womp womp..but, an excuse to get drinks before the afterparty &/or introduce Kelsey to amaretto-sours (shit goes down like candy, let me tell you). The afterparty was lovely & an acquaintance of mine, John/Dr. Disko Dust (see: 1, 2), was doing most of the music & I got to see a really nice guy that Andrew & I had met a few weeks ago. Not to mention, free champagne & white Franzia! I got like four compliments on looking cute, too, which was nice (& pretty out of the ordinary). All of this added up to a pretty ace night, despite missing what we originally went out for.
Side-note: I need new shoes but don't know what to get. I was thinking creepers, but thought about it & I think a new pair of ankle-booties would get more use. I've been wanting a pair of high-heeled wingtip oxfords & Payless has these bad-boys for twenty-five, but I d'know if I still really want them or, again, if a new pair of ankle-booties would get more use. Suggestions?
He started the whole mess with those ice-blue eyes that kept me begging for my right to exist. Holly doesn't know what it's like to love someone who doesn't care whether you live or die. She doesn't yet realize that love unreturned eventually transforms into a fierce tangled mess, nerves & entrails exposed like split animal innards. She doesn't understand that sometimes the unrequited must demand reparations, that love can be a mean & spiteful process, that sometimes one loses patience with love. So, when the nerves & guts have seemingly been packed away, sewn in & cleaned up so as not to make all the innocent bystanders uncomfortable, the carrier of this love becomes heavy with a toxic lump that grows, slowly & steadily, into a fierce ball of scarred tissue.
Located two ribs below the heart, it is called hate.
Current inspiration: skin--
Lonely. Miserable. But I'm starting the 365 photo project..?
Here's the first one, & maybe the second (but probably not, because I'm new to flickr/blog syncing).
Last night, I had a dream that I met the most amazing boy.
I didn't even get his name, so I tried to fall back asleep multiple times.
I've been thinking about it since I woke up.
I believe in the power of good looks & delicacy
I write you letters. I write you letters to say, “I miss you.” I write you letters to say, “I love you.” I stop writing letters, when you ask me to. I write you again in a year, to let you know that I haven’t forgotten.
The prayers I give to leaves I rip off trees. To water that stays still & has fish in it. To clouds that cover everything like the apocalypse is coming. To books with yellow pages. To the little holes that form in my clothes. “Come back.”
You. There are five of you. I count you, when I am walking alone. I find you, in the places I can. I sing songs to you, until I am out of breath.
I do. I do. I swear, I do.
She says,
"I remember the way love
used to glow like glitter on my skin,
before he made his way in.
Now every touch feels like a sin
that could crucify Medusa, Kali, Oshun, Mary.
Bury me in a blue blanket
so their god doesn't know I'm a girl,
cut off my curls,
I want peace when I'm dead."
Her friend knocks at the door,
"it's been three weeks,
don't you think it's time you got out of bed?"
"No.
The ceiling fan still feels like his breath.
I think I need just a couple more days of rest.
Please."
Bruises on her knees from praying to forget.
I'm tired of wanting to float on my back under the stars, alone,
just so my skin will smell of chlorine, just so I'll feel clean.
I'm tired of wanting to skin myself,
just so I can regrow, just so I'll feel clean.
The actor lay back in the grass & forced laughter from his throat. This was his read on grief. Josie thought doing nothing would have been more realistic. When your girlfriend dies in a car accident, it takes a while to believe it. The realization comes later, when you understand you will never see her again. When you go to wash the clothes, & there are her clothes, & you don't know whether to wash them or not, & you think, not, because that would mean fewer particles of her existing in the world, the smell of her body which was now underground, that particular scent will never happen again.
What the fuck is going on?
What am I doing here?
I don't belong here.
I love you the most. Fellows don't know how to love like girls. You don't even know how to spell it. My darling.
