Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Blond

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Image Source: Antipodium

Image Source: The Virgin Suicides (1999)

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I think now that the world is getting over its general scrutiny of blonds through discrimination by means of hair colour, and there is more liberation amongst wild and wacky shades tentative fence-sitters such as myself can feel righteous about choosing in the rainbow of colours. Oh sure, there are the juvenile and immature taunts of unfortunate "dumb blond" jokes to deflect, but I would hope to feel confident in shaking off such crude wails about my own appearance- because at the end of the day who does it really affect? There is one group's criticism I have never been and will never be good immune from: that of my wolf pack- my family and close friends. For as long as I do something drastic to change my appearance they will cringe with an unwelcome expression on their face. But surely changes are normal, right? We accept puberty as this glorious 'rite of passage' where we don't feel like ourselves and are instead lost, looking for these new and strange adult identities. So, I think to myself, why not celebrate the tail end of the festivities with a little fireworks?

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Image Source: Chloe Sevigny

Image Source: Ahmagad: 1960s edition. From superbomba.

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I got streaks put in my hair that looked absolutely awful at the age of twelve, which in turn made me want to turn my back on those blackened plastic bottles of hair dye and all of their associated evil. I felt so hurt and scorned by their misdeeds their was no other sensible reaction to these very innocent inanimate objects. I always think, "but maybe this time will be different" and then the whole thing visually explodes horribly like pancake batter and I end up with proverbial egg on my face. Maybe I am mad instead, because surely that is the definition of madness: trying the same (wretched) thing over and over again yet expecting a new and different result. I am already well aware of my hairs' length status- following me around like a lost puppy everywhere I go and bordering on unmanageable. With that said, I think it's safe to say that the idea of a buzz cut is out of the question for me. Friends are used to my raven coloured and long hair, barely recognising those rare occasions when I do get a minor trim- and facing the slow decline of Summer into Autumn and then the cooler months I'll be totally defenceless against the cold winds and searing chill.

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horreure: Marina Abramovic, The Artist is Present Portraits
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I have already had a light-hearted chat with a hairdresser regarding what needs to be sacrificed to wear a gorgeous bottled colour, and it seems to be everything I value and love about my own hair: length. But the fashion world endures many changes: I can vividly remember when my blogging role model and hero Tavi Gevinson wore shades of red, dull blue and grey in her infamous faux old movement. Her more recent appearances have her sporting a sweet and natural tincture of blond that goes so well with recreated styles of the 1970s and striped cut-off denim shorts. I think the ability to reinvent one's self a and image; being able to stay relevant and exciting to an international audience is something that is helped along by these changes we make in our lives. I just want to be able to share in these fantastic moments and put myself on a platter to be eaten up- have hair clash with my clothing and schedule emergency appointments when it all falls apart. I want the drama and maintenance of having something shocking about my appearance!

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Image Source: Disney

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I think part of the social stigma that faces blonds may be due to a lack of representation in the population. If I learnt anything from last semester's horrible Statistics unit, it's hat a sample size is a number's game. We see someone with blond hair and generally the higher percentage it's not a natural blond either. So that means this person puts a little effort into how they look. Now this is when things get messy: because doing something nice for yourself and trying to look trendy can sometimes be interpreted as being pretentious; which is tragic when this isn't the case. Could trying to do something nice for yourself and exciting be all that bad and cause so much trouble? There's the mold of: "girls can't be pretty and smart at the same time" and even the most glorified queen bee, fake tan ladies of my graduate year in high school who had brains seemed to be ashamed of their intelligence. And here I am, years later, shaking my head and wondering why it is they do it; afraid they might frighten guys off by making them feel small. Well I'm sorry, but if a boy doesn't appreciate your IQ and potential to be the beautiful blond breadwinner of a relationship - then they never deserved you in the first place.

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Image Source: suicideblonde- Chloe Sevigny

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Image Source: The Virgin Suicides (1999)

Image Source: Tavi Gevinson on The Colbert Report

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retrogirly: Etta James

For those who do not know me personally, 1.) Lucky you and 2.) Know that behind a facade of neutral expressions and pretty clothes I am in secret a scheming deviant. So while I wear the pretense of lusting after blond hair I would really love something more along the lines of soft lime green hair and then cover up the whole incident as a bad brush with chlorinated water. How unfortunate and unexpected... Muahaha. But seriously, that may actually work on my parents who I still live with and stuff. Although I have passed the age where I am enrolled on the electoral roll, expressing myself in my TRUE sense of style is strictly forbidden. What a joke. But you never know- my mind seems to change as frequently as the weather in my hometown of Melbourne, the city of 'four seasons in one day'. And being a bottle blond may come to grow on my and build character. It would certainly create a different facet of myself to look after and maintain this school year, other than the academic and book worm girl that tends to take over.

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Image Source: Tavi Gevinson

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Monday, January 28, 2013

Living Space



Here's a little showcase of what my room looks like when it's nice and neat- and hey look! I redid the posters and stuff on my wall and am very, very low on blue tack. Oh well, it was all worth it and I particularly like my display of pretty graphic cards and one exceptionally funny zine produced by a guy from my graduate year. He won the citizenship award incidentally. SO that's finally done, but I think it needs a little more lace and bows and glitter which is difficult to do in such a way as that it can be taken down later. On my bed is a wonderful crochet blanket I bought for a measly four dollars and I decorated my windowsill with curiosities and stuff from around the house. It was mainly raiding the kitchen cupboard of birthday candles and cake toppers that did it. I think I'll buy some more candles and stuff today though for a Virgin Suicides/ the crypt of Romeo + Juliet vibe. With less death.

Survive

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Basically if I can survive the next week or so and not implode I can do anything. Why am I in such a tizzy you ask? I'm working six days of the next eight. That probably isn't a lot to many other people, but considering I was just doing one shift a week for the last two weeks it's a rapid jump and since I am still in lazy university-student-holiday-mode yes I am freaking out that I will be rubbish at everything and collapse at every opportunity. Physically I'm going to be exhausted, mentally I'll be drained and if there's any bad decision-making it will probably haunt my psyche for the next fortnight or so. My nails are long and lovely, ready to be made glittery blue but I also don't want to be made fun of and ugh, I hate work and feel uptight and nervous at the moment. The good news is that I'll have lots of money by the end of this troubling ordeal, the bad news is that I won't have energy to blog and a lot of drafts will be posted and therefore I'll be depleted of all my fail-safes and back up plans so there may be a temporary void in my absence.


Image Source: Marie Antoinette (2006)

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I think I strained my eyes or something last night after being stuck in the same place for nine hours straight and missing that glorious transition from afternoon to dusk. But they were okay the next morning which I was super happy about because that means I don't need an emergency trip to the eye doctor. But sadly I don't nee to pick out any glasses or anything sweet for my face. I didn't see the beginning of super powers in which I could sap lasers at people everywhere either. Maybe the secret is pink lipstick and that's what I'm really lacking. Or that cosmetic shade is radioactive and imbued with mutagenic stuff. Who knows. All I know is that I can't shoot off the heads of all argumentative little blighters and spider bites on my hands haven't let me shoot webs either. I think I've been jibbed on both accounts.


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Oh why can't I just be a professional crazy cat lady instead of a part time dork? *Sigh*Maybe one day when I have worked enough to secure a glorious pension fund which I will then in turn try to trade in for cat food and fluffy friends. The only fluffy friends I have at the moment are the stuffed animals on my bed and the bandages from supporting my ankle. It would seem that I'm fit, but not that fit but I don't have to referee any grand finals though which is great because I absolutely hate them! So today is going to be spent going into damage control, relaxing and probably watching some Sailor Moon. And avoiding looking at Etsy and eBay with my new found fortune I have to be careful not to spend it all at once and space it out for my phone bill... a few more listings and slowly getting rid of garbage bags full of clothes will help this process along as well.


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I think I ate a ridiculous amount of pizza this weekend, something close to the ballpark range of four slices this week? Oh who am I kidding, those four slices were eaten within the space of a day with a cheese sandwich to space out the flavour. It has been a while since I indulged though and it did feel good to get some quick carbohydrates into my system. The melted cheese and tomato paste mingling with shredded ham and pepperoni slices was just too good to refuse. It wasn't picturesque and as pretty as what we see above, but let's face it. Where in the world does such perfection exist? Certainly not in my ordinary corner of the world at least. So for the next week there will probably be more fruit and vegetables to compensate for all that gorging... Something that was initially meant to be about running around and getting fit, I managed to pervert with gorgeous Italian takeaway. Being stuck at a faraway venue for eight or nine hours at a time does warrant some strong hunger pains though.


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My mother bought some more fancy teas when she went grocery shopping so this week will probably be a little discovery of their blends and stuff. Since I won't want to do anything else other than be a house sloth, put outfits together and hastily mail things off that I successfully sold. I'm looking at a positive strike rate of thirty-three percent at the moment which sounds pretty good to me. I don't know what I would want to put the extra cash to, but I will think of something since I live the cushioned life of a university student who still lives at home. And has only just recently taken responsibility of her phone bill, doesn't own a car and therefore doesn't need to pay for petrol or wi-fi. Mentally wi-fi seems the most important to me and a direct link to my happiness. It's the biggest reason why I stay at home all day and am afraid to leave in case I either miss a mailed package or get mugged on the streets. Fantastic. I think I'll make a cup of blackcurrant tea blend with ginseng and a twist of vanilla.


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Image Source: Flight of the Conchords
Or instead of watching Sailor Moon it might be Flight of the Conchords which is the only HBO series that I have seen so far, but I am really keen to try and raid the local electronic store for more. While flicking through channels my mother passed their latest series, "Girls" and I saw an interview with one of the writers and I really want to check it out. Unfortunately wrestling my mother for television control is just an up hill battle. Harrumph. Satellite access for better channels can be so fickle and cruel sometimes. It's just teeming with popular culture references and strange episode concepts that circulate around a single idea which I also enjoy. Maybe learn a little bit more about David Bowie in the lead up to his next release, which apparently one of my uncles really enjoys. Which caught me off guard in discussion with my parents, since I still think of Bowie as this magical being that appears in strange movies with elaborate costumes. Which incidentally I really want to download...


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