Day 146: Tuesday 22 September

September 22, 2009

Last night I dreamt about Elvis…

While that is a Gillian Welch song lyric  it’s also the truth. Yesterday I finished reading Careless Love by Peter Guralnick. How depressing. Poor Elvis pilled himself to death surrounded by people yet lonely, in a state of depression  and constipated. Apparently when you are famous doctors can’t say no to you. So just like Michael Jackson,  Elvis had many willing suppliers of a range of uppers, downers, anti-depressants, laxatives and pain killers. And like Michael jackson Elvis semed very very sad. American Trilogy? More like American Tragedy.

Here’s Elvis in his last concert, six weeks before he died on the toilet,  singing/ straining Unchained Melody…

Anyway. Moving right along to today’s stellar outfit…

Moody early morning pose down

Moody early morning pose down with giant red ceramic butt plug

Top: JeansWest ‘1970’s revival’ pale denim jacket, lightweight for the warm day ahead

Bottom: Denim Company ankle freezers, turned up to make that seem intentional

Accessory 1: Denim tie belt

Accessory 2: Denim shoulder bag

Accessory 3: Denim Birkenstocks


Day 70: Wednesday 8 June

July 8, 2009

The last few days have seen some pretty average denim outfits. Unfortunately today is NOT an improvement. I am planning, wishing, hoping, needing to spend the whole day at home, so I am dressed accordingly. Work duties are a possibility in which case I’ll HAVE to improve my fashion outlook. But let’s just wait and see if that happens…

I check my denim diary in the vain hope I have nothing to do

I check my denim diary in the vain hope I have nothing to do today

Top: Just the right jacket for a cold wet winter’s day spent in a home with no insulation and practically no heating, Lois furry styled denim, donated by my pal PB

Bottom: It’s a case of yesterday once more, light weight faux denim tracksuit pants over leggings

Accessory: Denim clad diary, a present from my sweetheart

Here’s my diary in close-up

My little blue book, it's even got a little denim pocket!

My little blue book, it's even got a little denim pocket!

I don’t know about everyone else, but I am feeling nauseous after hearing some of the revolting, sacchrine, weasel worded tear fest that was Michael Jackson’s grand finale. And getting his daughter to speak! Is nothing private, not even grief? What is wrong with people? Am I the only one who thinks the whole thing is disgusting? I need to lie down again.

Here’s hoping you don’t see an afternoon outfit update… roger, over and out

Afternoon update has become evening update!

Because computers and that world wide web thing are sometimes rubbish this is my third attempt to update the blog. Not that anyone’;s reading it. Today is the lowest number of visitors since I started the blog! I know tracksuit pants are unflattering and perhaps I SHOULDN’T have worn them 2 days running, but really!  Wasn’t anyone keen to see when I got OUT of them?

Here’s what I wore from about 2pm…

I ditch the trakkie dacks for faintly more glamorous attire. Ta to Trix for taking the pix

I ditch the trakkie dacks for faintly more glamorous attire. Ta to Trix for taking the pix

Top 1: Jo’s jeans jacket

Top 2: MSK denim vest. Cos’ baby, it’s cold outside

Bottom: Industruie denim, freshly washed, now a bit too tight

Accessory: Mavi denim bag, neat and tidy


Day 59: Saturday 27 June

June 27, 2009

I feel extremly tired today and emotionally shattered from all that celebrity death. I stayed up last night to write  obituaries for Farrah and Michael. So it was well after 1am before I went to bed. Then I thought I’d finish my book, called Before Night Falls by Reinaldo Arenas.At 3am I turned my lights out….

What a rollicking ride that book is! I was telling some people at the pub about Before Night Falls because the author claims at a certain point, when he is still a young man  in his twenties, to have had sex with 5000 men.

FIVE THOUSAND MEN!!!!
Somebody did the mathematics, and it turns out that if he started having sex when he was 14 he would have had to have done it twice a day every day for 10 years. Another person came up with the theory that Mr Arenas would have had to have regular group sex as a way of getting his numbers up, so to speak.

Anyway. There is alot of sex in the book, if you like the male member it could be a book for you. However  it also recounts the extreme repression he suffered under Castro as a homosexual and a writer. I never knew there were essentially concentration camps in Cuba.

Cuba was, still is I suppose, incredibly Stalinist, with practically the entire population working as snitches for the secret police. Reinaldo Arenas suffered terribly in jail and had his writing confiscated and monitored, his every move watched. Eventually he manages to escape to Miami then New York, where he lives also tragically as an exile. And of course at the end he dies from Aids.

For some reason I had to finish it, and that is the reasn why I look and feel so tired today as I have had about 4 hours sleep. But I can’t lie around. I have to get up to the Hawkesbury to do my final ceramic firing. Then up to newcastle to see Penny Thwaite’s exhibition closing, where I will be wearing a very special piece of denim.  You will have to wait till Sunday for that!

Stripey overload wih clay and denim combo

Stripey overload wih clay and denim combo

Top: Classic Levi’s denim jacket

Bottom: Industrie jeans

Accessory: Not in shot, and I am too tired/busy/lazy to re-photograph, Dragstar denim slouchey bag


Farrah Fawcett, blonde and gone

June 27, 2009

I’m not sure why I like(d) Farrah Fawcett.

I loved her fly way hair, but I hated her acting. I loved Charlie’s Angels, but always preferred the 2 brunettes (names escape me). But then I named my cat after her because of that infamous ‘do’.

I loved her in this movie…

Raquel Welch steals Farrah's girlhood

Raquel Welch steals Farrah's girlhood

Yep. Farrah Fawcett and Raquel Welch share a special ladies only moment in that camp spectacular Myra Breckinridge. This movie exposed me to a different side of Farrah, her femme lesbian side. It’s also sensational because Raquel plays a post-op super glamtastic transexual who buggers Farrah’s boyfriend with a dildo!

Somehow Farrah has kept appearing in my life in some form or another. At the time I was living in Los Angeles and doing a flea market stall to make some cash. Somebody bought the t-shirt off my back. They paid double what I paid, I suppose for all the extra stains and holes I had ‘added’ to the t-shirt’s patina.

Somewhere aroundthe house I have a Farrah mouse pad. The famous shot of her in a very nice pair of slightly flared jeans riding a skateboard while wearing cool as f#ck nike sneakers.

In about 1991 I was wandering through the back streets of Chippendale in inner city Sydney and came across a Playboy that somebody had dumped. Been a hoarder I scooped it up. I have been dragging this Playboy around with me for nearly 20 years now, waiting for that moment when it would be useful.

Today was that day. It is a 1978  US Playboy with Farrah looking both fetching and come hither on the cover…

US$4 or found on the street... something worth owning either way

US$4 or found on the street... something worth owning either way

You go Farrah, although I don’t understand my fascination with you.

I don’t find her attractive (except for that HAIR), I don’t like her acting, and yet I have written some 300 words about all the Farrah things I have had and experienced. And the fact Farrah was on the cover of this Playboy is the only reason I have kept it.

She is/was the iconic American blonde. Good on her for keeping it going. Even in hospital her hair looked amazing. Was it a wig? And why did you have to dire from anal cancer? What is anal cancer? Does it differ from rectal cancer?

Funny. I am talkng about arse.


Michael Jackson, 1958-2009

June 26, 2009

Michael Jackson, such a freaky, gender bender, bizarro,  freaky wierdo, sex freak that I have to love him.

If we can’t love the freaks who’ll love us?
Or as Aimme Mann puts it…

If you could save me
From the ranks of the freaks
Who suspect they could never love anyone
‘Cept the freaks
Who suspect they could never love anyone
But the freaks
Who suspect they could never love anyone

Here’s how I want to remember him, off the wall, not yet off his scone…

1979's finest... Michael jackson's Off the Wall

1979's finest... Michael Jackson's Off the Wall