What's the best way to spend a rainy day?
Submitted by Vee.
I love sitting on my back doorstep. There's a little pergular above it trailing with ivy and protecting you from the rain, and I love watching it pool on the flagstones of my garden and rolling cigarettes, listening to vinyl in the background.
I got my picture taken for a Japanese fashion magazine in Camden Stables market this morning. I don't know whether I should feel worried or not!
I keep on having vivid dreams about one person. Whenever I talk to my mother about it, over the bad reception of my mobile or face to face, she's usually saying dismissively, "remember, you always have very powerful dreams."
It's true. I always have dreams where everything's in vibrant colour - surround sound - I might as well be awake and walking in that reality. I might as well not have slept at all. At the same time, they can either be very strange, even funny, I have only talked about my dreams in incredible detail to someone and he laughed, shaking his head - I remember it so well, walking hand in hand, dark leaves trodden into the pavement, rotting and forgotten, he said, "your dreams are mad. I don't dream."
I can't imagine not having a dream. There are only a few days I can recall where I have a blank spot, even when I can't remember my dreams I still know that i've had them. Those little flashes of conversation or images as you wake up in the morning.
What's your favorite pub?
He had one of those faces; lips turned down periodically as he listened - concentrating and oh so serious about it. His eyes were wide open and laced with red - with drink and the long flight. When he looked at you with those moonshine eyes it was like he wasn't really there in the room. He was somewhere else and making a party of it, but it didn't matter and it never mattered then.
It was the day that he'd come back from America, bags in one hand and a cigarette in the other, held off to the side and dripping with ash as he stepped over the threshold. He had just brushed against a woman in the train station and her smell lingered on his clothes, it wavered in the cold corridor of the hall before the front door slammed and dismissed it altogether, and he was alone.
And he loved you.
Uglydoll Ox came in through the cat flap yesterday.
What movie can you quote by heart?
Submitted by clamhead.
Miss Chi Chi, white lolita dress and dark lipstick. "I got a million dream lovers for every light on Broadway. When one of them goes out I just screw in another one, you know; hello - goodbye."
I haven't really had a crush on anyone in ages. When I was younger and attractive boys were scarce I used to enjoy crushing on film stars, rock stars with long hair and bright eyes. The first one I can remember was Brandon Lee when I was eight or so. I was allowed to sit in front of the TV with my mum and dad and watch it when it came out on video, much to my mother's chagrin. I only remember a few images about it, and being scared. However I watched it again when it came on Channel 4 when I hit fourteen. I loved the way he moved and how dark he was. Later on I was enthralled about the way he died so similarly to his father. At the risk of sounding clique, he and James O' Barr got me into all things weird.
And then the second one was Jonathan Rhys Meyers. I was sick and home from school at fifteen, and as I was a big Placebo fan I wanted to see something called Velvet Goldmine to watch Brian Molko totter around in high heels and a feather boa. On getting the film I was completely blown away by Brian Slade and his lipstick and the irish accent.
I loved all of that glam gitter-fag stuff anyway, I am a big fan of T-Rex and Bowie and also the references to Iggy Pop made me grin with excitement. Coming across a film about it with such a beautiful man as one of the leads was a real find. I then saw Jonathan play Steerpike in Gormenghast, a TV drama series about the book. I loved the way he was there too, young and decidedly evil but with a heart somewhere deep inside that had been broken and all that romanticism I like to wish were true (but probably is).
Now I still carry a flame for Jonathan, his cupid bow lips and Irish blood, but I can't seem to see anyone that starts me blushing - neither rockstar or boy on the street. I've managed to come to the conclusion that I just like to have fantasies about the love of my life suddenly walking into where I work or taking hold of my wrist in a shop and kissing me hard. Just like in the movies. Especially the black and whites.
I might of already met that love in a boyfriend and let him go, however I doubt that my heart would of given it away that
Well. I have been waiting for an invite for ages and finally got one this morning. I am enjoying the features - photos merged with flickr, audio and books. Also the QotD look fun to do.
I walked to the cornershop to get myself my favourite wine (some cheap rose brand, cheap but cheerful) and caught sight of the new American vogue which is sporting Kirsten Dunst as Marie Antionette (as in myself = drooling). I also bought it for the Angelina St. John shots within the first few pages and general fantastic shots that never seem to be a let down inside. Although I couldn't be in the least interested in Fashion as whole I do love looking at models and Vivenne Westwood clothing, and at the moment Dolce & Gabbana for the recent campaign they've been showing off (frock coats, heeled boots, large buckles and oh the large, bouffant HAIR.
I get asked every now and again by different people whether I have ever considered modeling. Well, the answer was no, as I don't consider myself to be beautiful. I was however scouted at Glastonbury festival in either 2003 or 2004 by Select Model Management which is the top modeling agency, Jamie Dornan is on their books along with a few other notable boys and girls. I went down to London, as I wasn't living here then, and did some test shots. The scout that got hold of me, also a top scout who has appeared on many shows recently, and suprisingly also called Sarah, told me that I was beautiful and if it was up to her I would be hired in a second.
However the boss said no, because there is a girl on their books that apparently looks too much like me.
I am quite glad that I didn't get taken on, thinking about it. It's not really who I am or who I want to be. I certainly wouldn't be able to have my piercings, or tattoos that I will have in the future. I know there are many alternative modeling agencies, and I kind of want to dabble in a little bit of it as my mother was also a model and my sister did a tiny bit of it, I think even my grandmother has done it.
It is a possibility that I am considering as my confidence is getting better, it has taken a bit of a leap recently and I can't think why - I have no boyfriend to worry about, I have a crap job, yet I think I have to be thankful for having it because I am dealing with so many people a day I don't have time to think about my securities.
There's a lot about the idea of modeling I don't like, however. Dumb model syndrome for instance. It's less evident in the alt scene (if you don't count Jeffree Star, for example. What a fucking idiot.) I've said this a while ago about models and i'll say it again; Modeling is a lot like drumming. No, hear me out on this. It's like drumming because the people who do it are considered to be complete idiots. In most cases, yes, this is true. But that's the same with nearly everything in life. There are always going to be dim witted people and of course it's shown up in front of the camera because people are looking for it. It's like the faux reality celebrities that come rolling out of the Big Brother house these days thinking they're IT.
Models are packages to be bought and used by companies who want to give their clothes or products vanity and a good pair of lips. You'll remember that perfume because of the pretty guy with messy hair and good teeth in a TV advert, or a particular sporty brand because of the blonde girl wearing their t-shirt and kicking a football. It's all psychological bullshit that takes you in. The models themselves are rumoured to be coke addicts, anorexic and creatures of the night that scuttle into the best parties and drink until the aloof facade wears off. They're rumoured to smell like a tarts boudoir and strut around with their noses held high in the air. But at the same time if you stop and look around you, you'll notice that there are people like that who don't walk the catwalk. The models who are, have let the profession go to their heads and were born into that spoilt brat personality in the first place. The spotlights on and they're standing under it. And probably sniffing hard.
I'm just undecided. Hearing experiences from first, second and third hand it's a very strange thing to be dabbling in if you don't remain detached from most of it's bad points.
