Кажи Нешто Драга...

As Autumn quickly approaches, I find myself relieved to experience a fresh season. When I was a girlchild of eleven and twelve, I perpetually pined for summer. Now, however, my brooding poet soul finds solace in the less (annoyingly) sanguine seasons.

I remember my first Autumn in Bulgaria like it was yesterday. I can still smell the thick smoke of roasted red peppers in the crisp Autumn air. I can still hear the brittle crunch of dark plum, burnt ochre and bright flame colored leaves under my little fur lined winter boots (leather and fur was so inexpensive in Bulgaria in those days!). There are also some relatively unpleasant memories I have of village life - I remember that for the entire month of October there would be blood trickling down the dirt gutters due to the pig slaughtering parties that the men of each family would hold. In the deep chill of the dark blue velvet nights, you could hear the blood curdling squeals, and the slurred words and melodies of Bulgarian folk songs. My father, who attended such an event out of sheer politesse, told us the next morning at breakfast that an abundance of rakija (moonshine) and a dull butcher knife makes for a slow, agonizing death. This was village life.

It is memories like these that fuel my longing for the dramatic...and sometimes, even the provincial. I find that my wardrobe has become a sanctuary and a mythical place where I can indulge my inner raconteur. I truly feel that stories aren't merely conveyed with words, but that storytelling can be performed through  many different mediums. The use of textiles, fashion if you will, can bring to life living, breathing characters that otherwise would have been confined to the darkest corners of your imagination. I say, why not unchain these ghosts that haunt your dreams and give them breath? I suppose it is considered strange to be so philosophical about fashion. We are often told that fashion is superficial...frivolous...vain. I believe in the creation of art, for it is the greatest expression of being human. You create art through your words - I create art through my love of textiles- but we all create art with our hands.

Now on to a more lighthearted discussion!

Above are things that are on my wishlist for this coming Autumn and Winter - I will be visiting Macedonia with my dear husband in April (still very much Winter!) so I have decided that I need to invest in a few more cold weather classics. Although the dress above is made out of cotton, I felt that it had the possibility of being very versatile in terms of layering - a beautiful eyelet petticoat in Creme Anglaise, thick wool stockings in a charcoal grey or bittersweet chocolate (or maybe nude stockings with a dark coffee seam?), a lofty cashmere sweater from the 1950's adorned with creamy pearls (if those voluminous sleeves will fit! I absolutely ADORE the sleeves!), and for the piece de resistance...a cozy yet glamorous wool coat in a rich pumpkin spice topped off with a whipped cream colored fur collar. I also need to go lipstick shopping - I need a moodier red. I hope you enjoyed this post, and please, never be afraid to indulge your imagination!

And now for a few photographs and some classic Balkan folk songs to inspire you!

Easter Sunday - Romania

My ideal outfit!

Romania - what a cute photograph! That astrakhan coat is absolutely gorgeous...

Moscow market - USSR

I am completely in love with this photograph...the sheer pathos of it all. The battle weary soldier. The poverty stricken babushka's. The changing times of the USSR.

Comrade Von Pussycat

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