I read recently that an aspiring writer would often re write entire excerpts written by his/her favorite writer.. I think this is very refreshing and at the same time very old. Very refreshing in the sense that I don't very much hear about anyone having that kind of passion about anything, much less writing.. Also very old in the sense that there was once a time when people were this passionate. 

I think it's beautiful and I think I'll give it a try. 

Why is it that stars were so effortlessly flawless in the 90's? 

I admire the sleek silhouettes, tight black tank tops, black cocktail dresses with no design, mid-length skirts, plaid flannels, the white crew neck Julia Roberts wears to a baseball game in "My Best Friends Wedding", the beautiful red dress Rachael Leigh cook wears to the party in "She's All That". Items of clothing that aren't anything special- not trendy or "fashionable" if hanging on a hanger. Not items that scream "glam", but when on the right person all the little details work together to make a beautiful memory. The way a cream crew neck adorns her collar bones and makes her gold necklace so much more beautiful, the way her fitted black dress hugs her body in all the right places without studs, mesh, lace or a cleavage plunge. 

Nowadays it's all body-con, bandage dress, glitter, etc. And once on a whole, designers get it right, but for the most part, the 90's concept had it right: a piece of clothing, outfit, ensemble or dress should not outshine the person wearing it, you shouldn't remember the way a woman looked uncomfortably girdled in an ill fitting glittery cream dress that disagreed with her skin-tone, or how her tousled up do looked so orchestrated .. You should remember how effortlessly cool and beautiful she looked wearing a black dress in contrast with her porcelain skin, how the dress was cut perfectly to show the most natural amount of cleavage, how beautiful a girl can look with her hair up, without anything over powering her. 

Can I just say how very tired I am of every article I come across that points out how unrealistic Sex & The City is? How Carrie would never be able to afford her wardrobe writing a sex column, how she would never be given a Vivenne Westwood gown for her wedding.. Hell, there's even a blog with the name "Carrie Bradshaw Lied". No shit. 

It is a work of fiction. It is a glamorized, glossy dream of what every girl would want in such a crazy city as New York. The endless possibilities: running into exes and their wives, being flown out to LA by Matthew McConaughey, having a friend with en ex who lends his multi millionaire Hamptons crib to her for the weekend, daily brunch, nightly bar hopping, endless occasions to shop for, parties to attend.. 

What I love the most about Carrie (and everyone else hates) is the fact that she isn't a bitchy lawyer or a high profile PR professional like Samantha. She speaks to all the aspiring writers, all the humble small-town-heart hopeless romantics. Not all of us wish to be celebrities, debutantes, feminists, political titans. 

A humble, fashionable apartment, steady, interesting job, one on and off love of your life, a sisterhood of 3, and a slew of dating, fashion, and social mistakes might be the American Dream for more girls than you'd think. 

So I'd like to say to all you heyterz: Carrie Bradshaw isn't real. Nothing about her is realistic. She is like Santa and The Tooth Fairy and if you want something realistic, you're better off watching the Discovery Channel or the depressing 10 o clock news. Grinches. 

How To Wear Jordans

1. Wear something to offset the urban factor.. pretty much make your outfit like an everyday outfit.. So when someone looks down at your shoes BAM! It's a surprise.  Also, having your girlfriend dress like she's in an indie band for the day helps.

2. Be a famous kid. If you're not a famous kid, have one. He can wear them however he wants. He will be cute until he grows up to be a hot Hollywood mess one day. 

3. Be a really sexually attractive white female. 

The trick to this is being white. Any hot black or Hispanic girl has been there, done that. Not special. Even white females that resemble Hispanics or white females that often dress urban don't count. You have to be like, white as it gets. And you can A) Be Kate Upton or B) Wear a push up bra and deep V-neck 

4. Look like you have a lot of money. Look like you have no clue that wearing Jordans is fashionable or that rappers wear them with jeans and white t-shirts and chains. You just got off your private jet. You're just going shopping and you want to wear comfortable shoes. Wear them with your Gucci sportscoat. 

Also, if you're the dad of a famous kid who wears Jordans and you also look like you have a lot of money, then you're probably the holy grail of Jordan wearers... Not. 

5. 

6. Be the kind of person that can do no wrong. Like, ever. 

A Martian Sends a Postcard Home

Caxtons are mechanical birds with many wings 
and some are treasured for their markings-- 

they cause the eyes to melt 
or the body to shriek without pain. 

I have never seen one fly, but 
sometimes they perch on the hand. 

Mist is when the sky is tired of flight 
and rests its soft machine on the ground: 

then the world is dim and bookish 
like engravings under tissue paper. 

Rain is when the earth is television. 
It has the properites of making colours darker. 

Model T is a room with the lock inside -- 
a key is turned to free the world 

for movement, so quick there is a film 
to watch for anything missed. 

But time is tied to the wrist 
or kept in a box, ticking with impatience. 

In homes, a haunted apparatus sleeps, 
that snores when you pick it up. 

If the ghost cries, they carry it 
to their lips and soothe it to sleep 

with sounds. And yet, they wake it up 
deliberately, by tickling with a finger. 

Only the young are allowed to suffer 
openly. Adults go to a punishment room 

with water but nothing to eat. 
They lock the door and suffer the noises 

alone. No one is exempt 
and everyone's pain has a different smell. 

At night, when all the colours die, 
they hide in pairs 

and read about themselves -- 
in colour, with their eyelids shut.

Nostalgic for garbage, desperate for time 

In the midst of life we are in death. -Episcopalians at the graveside

"Attack of the Five Foot Ten Woman"/ the only episode in which I don't see CB as the fabulous power woman she is. Even when she is cheated on, throwing rocks at windows, getting drunk and making out with every wrong guy in New York. She feels sorry for herself after she sees Big and Natasha's wedding column. Which brings me to the question.. Does a persons out-loud insecurities affect the way everyone else sees them? 

The other day I met a woman who has kept a journal for 10 years. I wish to do the same because when we're gone, all that we leave is our physical belongings, pictures and our words. Photos and physical belongings can convey only so much.

Glossy girls

It's funny- us girls just want the world to love us for who we are. Simple as that. Appreciate the fact that I read. Love me because I daydream. Fall in love with me because I like documentaries and reading old history textbooks. Tell me you like when I do tiny, weird things that others don't do. The fact that I could stay in a library, mall, or any public place for an extended amount of time and people watch and appreciate my day by myself. The fact that I love being by myself with nothing to do. That I'm fast and messy and I make mistakes and I spill stuff and I eat in the car, I chip my nails, and I never fail to get food in my hair. 

That I like learning about the Presidents and that I like Greek mythology and Disney movies but also macabre topics and have a fascination with death and spirits and hauntings. 

That I obsess over a different movie, book, country, celebrity, car, era etc every week. 

I don't remember the last time I was commended or complimented on being different or intelligent or creative. Even obsessive would be a compliment. 

That's why I, and a lot of other girls, instead spend about an hour getting ready. Sure I like to be attractive. But if we weren't so measured by our looks versus our minds and habits and interests, I doubt we'd all be so superficial. 

So then people see us, and judge us, and then are surprised to find out that we like to visit museums, that some of us actually enjoy watching manly sports, that we like to read.. (Not just Cosmopolitan) that we have an in-depth knowledge on foreign fashion, that we could have a full-on conversation on topics that vary from Bush's administration to Marchesa's 2014 Fall line to the Cowboy's defensive line. 

Our lipgloss to them reads: "I like going shopping and um, what are politics? Ew sports- that one guy that throws the football is cute though."

And that's what they'll think. They'll judge a book by its cover and it's first three pages and then close it, skip it and we're left alone with no one to talk to about anything remotely interesting. 

But once in a while, when a daring person tries to test the waters- see if the glossy girl has anything to offer the world, they are surprised. And it's funny to hear someone go off on so many tangents in disbelief that a glossy girl could have any idea about the world around her.

Some might find it offensive, but not I. I rejoice in being judged and then proving people wrong. 

Robert Pattinson and Ryan Gosling are two of a kind. They portray two of the most coveted Romeos of this generation: Noah and Edward. Both represent the romantic fiction every girl wants: a passionate, pure love that stands the test of time. In both stories though, this love would not be possible with Bella and Allie's male counterparts. It is the guy, not the girl, that creates this beautiful love story that evey girl nowadays covets. We all want this beautiful man with old-fashioned morals and mannerisms who comes in and sweeps us off our feet, who sees only us. 

What I want goes a but deeper though. I want a man who likes classical music. Who truly believes his world is empty without me. Recites ancient poetry and opens the door. Holds my hand in the car every time. Plays the piano. Writes a song after me. Jumps on the carousels after me. Takes me dancing in the street. Begins a labor of love after me. 

Some might say these are grand expectations- but I think they're reasonable. I'm not asking for a man with a Cullen bank account. I'm not even asking for vampire looks or vampire wardrobe. 

I think it's reasonable to wait for a guy who's worth it. A guy who was brought up with patience, responsibility, humility, a guy willing to put everything of his on the line for one girl. One woman, somebody secure and happy and healthy.

A fairy tale in most peoples eyes; achievable in mine. 

I want to float around coffee shops and libraries and walk streets and parks and read books and listen to music- but not bother anyone, just watch, learn, love my characters and actual living characters but not be one of them- but become all of them at the same time. Breathe them in and become everything I experience- true or not. Because all things, imaginary and fictitious are real, they are someone's idea and ideas are just as real as people. They're made by people so they are people.

October

October again in Texas.. The leaves start falling, weather starts dropping, State Fair of Texas arrives with it's fried concoctions, college football revs up, ESPN scores echo through my house, Dallas Cowboys gear everywhere, the foggy car windows defrost while the cars heat up, loud sports bars.. It's pretty much what the Texas is about. 

 My obsession with Halloween isn't shallow- it runs very deep into my subconcious.. It's more of a hobby, an excuse to channel all my ideas and obsessions into a project- a clear template I can work magic on. I feel like it's possible to be anyone or anything.. It's a rush to visit a Halloween store, specially for a movie addict like me. I feel so invincible, like I could emulate a Grecian Goddess'  statuesque manner of walking by wearing a long white dress like Athena.. Like my words could flow like honey if I piled on glitter on my wrists and neck like Daisy Buchanan.. I become immersed in Halloween projects.

It's not only the projects though, it's nostalgia I love about this holiday too. The whole month, I watch all Halloweentowns on Disney Channel along with other kitschy family Halloween movies, and certainly not to mention my love for horror films- of all kinds. 

Smell

I love Blockbusters. They're part of the 90's we won't ever get back. So naturally when the nearest Blockbuster closed, I was very sad. Nostalgia is everything to me and I remember being so excited to visit Blockbuster as a little girl. I love movies so much- they're library books to me.

In a world where Netflix and Redbox exist, Blockbuster cannot. But in reality, people lose the ability to walk through aisles of boxes screaming out for your attention; thousands of titles and pictures and couples and cops and villains and fairies competing for your attention. The popcorn and coke fridge on your way out.. It's an entire experience no other movie-renting company could create for you. 

I almost felt like I wanted to tree-hug the store- I feel like Blockbuster is a landmark in my neighborhood they're taking away from me. 

I did though, take advantage of the horrid situation and purchased the last season of Sex and The City.

Remember when in the Sex and The City movie, Big asked Carrie if she was the last person in New York taking out library books? 

She just said "I love the smell."

Me too, Carrie. Me too. 

Knock

If "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.."

Would a crop top by any other label look as cute? 

I was on the Urban Outfitters website the other day thinking I'd take advantage of the rare free-shipping deal and stumbled across this little number: 

 

Just a simple crop top right? 

I loved it as soon as I saw it but couldn't help asking myself why I loved it so much.. I know my taste very well and...It's not really my taste. Paired with the black pants, it rang a familiar bell: 

Kristen Stewart wore this Balenciaga two-piece on the red carpet. I remember seeing this look on her and thinking how refreshing it was. I'm so used to seeing her in a printed, lacy number that her stylist obviously handpicks for her. This suit was very editorial, but very ready-to-wear at the same time. It's so simple: black and white, but the tailoring was impeccable on her and it did so much for her figure- she looked timeless and stunning and it was the perfect balance of femininity and masculinity. 

Here is Gwyneth Paltrow in the same suit on the cover of Harper's Bazaar US:

Is the only reason we buy certain clothes because they remind us of the designer staples? Yes. Would we buy the same knock-off piece if it we had never seen it originally on the runway? No.

As a female who loves fashion, I know that every time I see any piece of clothing, I don't like the piece itself. I like the idea of the piece as an outfit. I imagine those leather pants with a beige slouchy sweater or that graphic tee with some great faded blue jean shorts. That's why you always hear women say "Wouldn't this look great with that amazing ( ________ ) I have?!" 

Without the designer influence and imagination, some of the things we buy would be so banal.. There would be no backstory there, no great idea. I wouldn't buy this top because Balenciaga wouldn't have made it as a suit. It wouldn't have looked amazing on the runway. It wouldn't do wonders for Kristen Stewart. 

But Balenciaga did. And it did look amazing. And now when I buy this and wear it I will have an idea in my head about how great it looked as a suit and how beautiful Kristen looked in it and how great I want to make it look on me. 

And that's the power of the fashion industry wrapped up in a white little crop top.