Bond Girls Are Forever...

I had the powerful urge to watch Casino Royale not once, but twice this weekend. I absolutely love the dialog between Vesper and 007... the rich, glamorous fabrics and classic European style...the glossy and gritty locations rolled up into one movie. It was then that I realized just how much my definition of what a woman should be has been shaped by the James Bond series. I began watching, studying, memorizing all of these techniques and various characters when I was a small child. Since then everything from the Avengers to Mata Hari have influenced my views. In every character, every Bond girl, I find a little particle of myself that usually has no outlet in daily life. Maybe this is why I am a daydreamer. I love thrill. I love intrigue. I crave glamor. I crave action. I crave it all.

I have decided that it is time that I start reflecting who I am on the inside by carefully selecting fabrics, cuts, and patterns that are an accurate representation. I always did love fashion. I wouldn't call myself a fashionista...that term is far too trendy. I am an artist. I know how to use fabrics to my best advantage. Silk drapes elegantly over every curve and indentation to suggest what the mind can only imagine. A crisp white tuxedo shirt gives an androgynous quality to a woman with minimal curves. The fabric takes on a whole new quality when a curvaceous woman fills out a tuxedo shirt, which is traditionally a masculine piece.

I would much rather dress my body in a sleek satin pencil skirt than a mini skirt. I just feel so much more myself in a pencil skirt.... it showcases the curve of my back, highlights the shape of my calves and flatters my delicate ankles. A miniskirt reveals absolutely everything, especially when you sit down. I would rather suggest than reveal. Secrecy. Hahaha *evil laugh*. How appropriate. I wonder if I am the only one who gives thought to these things. Pure frivolity you say? Maybe not. I am just redefining the game, dollface. This is what it takes to match me.

There are so many definitions of me. I am Lolita. I am the lust bitten (I wouldn't go so far as to say driven ;P ) sex-kitten. I am the bad ass, rough and ready girl who likes shiny, shiny leather. I am the girl who drinks vodka straight out of the bottle, who has pet snakes, wears a bikini to target practice (go Walther go!), and who wears stilettos pointy enough to pierce a vital organ ... should you have the cajones to try (did I mention I've fought off men with my bare hands...and won?A story for another time!). I am the adventurer, the global nomad, the citizen of the world. I am the daredevil. At the very same time I am the nourisher, the compassionate, the hopeful romantic, the sunny philosopher, the lover poet. Did I mention I've always been drawn to extremes? I don't even understand me so I don't expect anyone else to.

What was my point? I simply think it is amusing where I get these ideas from. Vesper Lynd, Honey Ryder, XXX Anya Amasova, Melina Havelock, the villainess Famke Janssen plays, have forever shaped my idea of femininity.

Comrade Von Pussycat