an almost fashion post

When I started this blog I intended to frequently do fashion posts, obviously though, that hasn't happened. The main reason why is because I haven't figured out how to take full body shots without a tripod and I really don't like asking members of my family to take them for me. Just recently, however, I realized I don't have to show the whole outfit. Yes, it would be preferable if I did show the whole thing, but partial is better than nothing right? I hope you think so. Anyway, I'll tell a little bit about each piece as it's show in the pictures and I hope you enjoy it.

That owl pendant is from my mom, she got it when she was a kid and didn't remember it at all, however, it's been worn plenty since I found it.
Jumper is from Lauren, (I seem to mention her in just about every post) handmade by someone, I have no idea who.



Hair bows are just scraps of cloth, actually from the lining of the sweater purse I showed a while ago. The cardigan is also from Lauren, maybe sometime I'll show you some of my clothes that DIDN'T come from her. Smile.

And this one's mostly just to show off how long my hair is and my braids, I love braids.

I thought since this was a clothing post I might as well mention my most resent fashion dilemma. Swimsuits. I'd really like to have a vintage or vintage inspired swim suit that I can actually wear and use. The problem is they are all so expensive and I can't afford even a knock-off. Regardless of my non-existent funds I decided a little window shopping/inspiration hunting couldn't hurt so I went to Glamoursurf and looked at their goods. (that's where all of these images are from) Aren't these just the sweetest things?

from the 40's (look at that little diver in the corner!)
I love the back of this one.

another 40's

Mid 50's, and here's the original advertisement.

Since all of these suits are over a hundred dollars I figured a good alternative would be to make one. I'm still on the hunt for a good pattern though, this one is also from Glamoursurf and if it was about thirty dollars cheaper it might be on the way to my house right now. Oh well, we still have a least a month before I could actually wear this and probably more before I'd have the time to make it.

I hope you all have a wonderful rest of the week.

Love, Clara

As you can see I've been knitting a lot lately, mostly during school. You know, while I read text book and all of the literature(right now it's grapes of wrath). This beauty here is the Tiny Twist Camisole from Inspired to Knit and I'm less than an inch away from the cables.

I would show you a picture of how it will look once it's done, but I can't seem to find one anywhere and I'm to lazy to take one myself from the book. It's really pretty though, and I promise I'll show lots once it's finished.
Here's one of the "pleats" that are at the bottom of the "skirt." I really love how it looks already. The yarn was originally from a different project that didn't turn out, it's such a pretty color, one of my favorites, but it looked extreamly ugly. Now, however, I feel like it's finally being done justice. Anyway, I have to go now, love you all!

Well, so much for posting a lot this week, I had some trouble getting the computer to do what I wanted, but now that's fixed. I thought I'd show you some pictures of my new hair cut. Actually, I didn't really get my hair cut, just my bangs, but I love how they turned out. Lauren cut them for me, we were bored and the last time we were together we dyed her hair, so this time we decided to cut mine.

They were inspired by Pride and Prejudice and Violet in A Series of Unfortunate Events, I hope you can see the resemblance.

It's been alot of fun so far, I like having bangs again. None of the photos I took that really show off how they look turned out well, so I'm only showing you the pretty, artistic ones. I'll let you imagine the rest.

There isn't much else to say, so have a wonderful weekend.

~Clara

from Lauren

I thought it was time for me to do another craft post, so I'm putting up some of the pages that were in the book my friend Lauren gave me for Christmas. So, here are the pictures! I'll try to be back soon. love!

She sat with Ash's head in her lap, running her hand down the once-sleek jowl and throat, now harsh with dry, staring hair. Don't die, she thought. Don't die. There's already little enough of me; if you leave me, the piece of me you'll take with you might be the end of me, too.

She must have fallen asleep, and and the fire begun to smoke, for the room became full of roiling grey, and ten the grey began to separate itself into black and white, and the black and white began to shape itself into an outline, although within the outline the black and white continued to chase each other into a mesmerizing, indecipherable pattern, as if light and shadow fell on some swift-moving thing, like water or fire. And the Moonwoman said, "Ash is fighting her way back to you, my dear; I believe she will make it, because she believes it herself. She is an indomitable spirit, your dog, and she will leave you so long as you hold her as you hold her now, begging her to stay. She will this battle because she can conceive of no other outcome."

The Moonwoman's seemed to fall, black and white, in Lissar's ears; she heard them as if they were spoken twice, as if they had two distinct meanings; and she recognised each of the meanings.
"Do not be to hard on yourself," said the Moonwoman, reading her mind, or the black and white shadows on her own face. "It is a much more straighforward thing to be a dog, and a dog's love, once given, is not reconsidered; it just is, like sunlight or mountains. It is for human beings to see the shadows behind the light, and the light behind the shadows. It is perhaps why dogs have people and people have dogs.

"But, my dear, my poor child, don't you understand that healing carries its own responsiblities? Your battle was from death to life no less than Ash's is now; would you deny it? But you have not excepted your own gift to yourself, your gift or your own life. Ash is looking forward to running in meadows agian; can you not give yourself leave to run though meadows too?"

Lissar woke, finding herself crying, and finding Ash, rolled up on her belly to her side, where she had lain for so many helpless days, feebly licking the hands where the tears fell.

taken from Deerskin by Robin McKinley

click on photos for links

inspiring things...

vintage bikes on new roads in front of ancient buildings, berets, red wine, fields, black, bare legs under skirts, sitting on the ground in a park, kissing, sunlight streaming through big windows into a small room, row boats, sketch books and water color sets, chocolate croissant, loose dress, grapes, empty rooms, laughter, no jewelry, people watching, pigeons, poetry that you keep getting distracted from reading, absent minded knitting, fresh flowers, white lace, trees hanging over a pond or river, roof tops, love notes, paint brushes, open air markets, window shopping (especially desserts), treats wrapped in paper, soft cheese, baskets that hold picnics, sudden questions, french music, feelings that come in pictures or music rather than words, vines growing up old buildings, lipstick, paper bag of candy, shopping bags and packages, baskets on bikes, sandals, history that never went away and is still living on.

Mid morning sunshine pours past curtain's film,

Bare feet gently step into artist's realm,

Where old unwashed teacups are scattered around,

And the papers and paints of her projects surround.

Long hair pulled back into a loose braid,

Pale pink shirt long ago did fade,

Above a homemade skirt flowing down from its frame,

And painted red toenails lead each step without shame.

Supplies are unpacked from each ones place,

Buttons and thread, sewing machine's case,

Old wooden brushes with years of paint stained,

And cloudy jars full of water, long ago attained.

One picture in mind blocks out other goals,

Hands gather up needed paints and charcoals,

To create the image that's deeply ingrained,

And put it down rightly just as its pertained.

Canvas spread out on the hard, cold floor,

Object in hand over artwork does soar,

Creating a wonder first seen in a dream,

And now it is living, giving off it's gleam.

Hours fly by without even a glance,

Composer continues soloists dance,

While under her fingers forms a kind of hope,

And gradually it slows, reached the end of it's rope.

Eyes are locked on their masterpiece finished,

Heat inside knows the fires diminished,

What drove the soul on has now been put out,

And the artist sits back, her mind without doubt.

Work is left on the ground to wait,

Break is required after flurry abates,

For the artist is exhausted from forth put passion,

And rest is executed in perfected fashion.

The poem and photos are by me. Sadly, these are not of my bedroom, (I wish they were!) they are from my friend Lauren's room, which also inspired this poem.

Love, Clara