Taken with my BB curve. Impressed by its camera.
Friday
SA shooters: Jesse-Leigh Elford part 1
Jesse-Leigh Elford's beauty photography stands out in an often samey-looking discipline. He captures his thoroughbred subjects thoughtfully and with precise technical skill. Yet all these images seem caught in the moment rather than orchestrated and staged. Go Jesse.
The pictures are retouched and processed by Juanel vd Walt, a friend I studied with at Vega and a very gifted thinker and designer.
The most magic vintage find
I love that in London you get chain stores that re-sell vintage (albeit slightly overpriced) but really great for leather skirts and denim jackets. This ensemble (not the belt) is from Rokit.
It's my Easter Sunday look <3
Thursday
Wednesday
A moment in London
It seems that life is forever more side tracking me, pulling me towards the observation of, but seldom the translation onto the page - this will change. This must change!
Yes. So I am in London. It's big, and grey for the most part. There are so many people and everyone does their own daily stampede to and fro. It's thrilling and I am revelling in the challenge of making my own way here. I see everything, register even more, love to eavesdrop - it's quite fantastic the things one over hears on the public transport. My god, public transport is fantastic (for the most parts).
The move here was an organic one : Not challenged, inspired or motivated in Cape Town, I felt purposeless and distracted, dusting away into the easiness of the most beautiful place in the world. Of course, coming London means a million more distractions, but it is different. Because there is so much to choose from, I become selective and (once more) observant, rather than complacent because it feels like the same thing over and over again.
My purpose here: To do exactly what I want to do, no compromise. This sounds somewhat hedonistic; what I mean is that I have done a full circle of trying to find that one thing, filter my interests and talents into one thing that will grip grasp me and give me definition. Purpose.
Instead of being the best at one thing, I have decided that I will be good (striving for best) at many things. I neglected my passion for performance since I dropped out of theatre school, yet it is the only thing that makes sense. Another full circle. I am making music again, inspired by the colour of London, the texture of life in anonymity. I am writing.
My ultimate job title: I am creatively opportunistic. Has a ring to it, no?
I feel like I am breathing deeply, a million moments for me of unfamiliarity and newness. It's exhilarating. And it tingles. I feel bravely happy.
Sunday
Lei รจ arrivata
Our beautiful friend Serena has come to visit us for the first time in two years. Sere used to live in Cape Town; initially came to visit for a month and ended up spending four years. Perhaps we can get her to stay longer this time round?
She lives in Parma, Italy, and facilitates creative events and gatherings, curates exhibitions and vintage fairs. She also has the most impeccable taste - in true Italian fashion. She has arrived with a massive suitcase full of European-smell clothing, detailed dresses and shoes stuffed in pouches bearing impressive brand crests on them. With every garment she pulls from the surplus of suitcase, breath bating, I realise how desperately I must make my trek beyond where I am now. The clothing symbolic of the texture I am craving, the inspiration and the fibres I must gather to make up my bigger suitcase (if you will). Pack suitcase, soon.
Serena is here. The timing could not be more perfect.
Tuesday
Frivolity for the win
So here I am.
After almost a year of absence and/or neglect of this blog, I have reinvented its look and decided to revive its potential. 2010 was a turbulent year for me and I felt my writing drying up as the year progressed. Distractions and a short coming of inspiration.
Alas, 2011 promises adventures and more play. I am a free agent. Chose to pursue a path of 'what I like doing' rather than 'how to keep climbing'. How this approach will pan out, time will tell, but for now I am happy to be writing again. At least. These days there seems plenty of time for introspection and assessment of self, yet it does seem like I am too distracted to really follow the latter through. Perhaps life is too good - frivolity for the win.
I hope that I will regain your readership, captivate your bored asses at work and have you reading, well, whatever my bored ass feels like writing about. For now. Also, Das Hasen Ohr will decisively be less about naked bums and naughty nuns and more themed and streamlined. How so, I have yet to decide. I am contemplating, for one, character profiles on those individuals who I find particularly entertaining (read: Khimmal); intriguing, fascinating and inspiring. A way to sharpen my tools, and share with you the most subtle nuances and details that captivate me everyday, thus keeping me from keeping the focus. Too much attention to detail, sooo much to see. It's my friendly foe.
Nice to see you again. Keep squinting at the sun. At least you're looking up.
Don't judge a girl by her freckles
As a girl (or boy) why does the dichotomy of being a surfer and a 'stylish' person seem to not exist to the greater collective mind? Unless you are Cameron Diaz, the idea of being a wholesome, well-rounded girl who loves salt water in her hair, up her nose, in her mouth gimme gimme, as well as having profound feelings for Balenciaga and the likes seems hard to marry?
Do I have to choose between being grungy or being healthy? In which case, I would favour the latter, naturally. I have long outgrown my emaciated sense of belonging. However, my sense for aesthetics and the deep-found appreciation for 'high fashion' (oh how I hate that term) I cultivated whilst spending time in Europe, emaciated, is ever-present.
I started surfing three years ago, and was utterly convinced from the first time I bashed white water. At that time I was pursuing a darker shades of black and wore skeletons around my neck with conviction. I still wear mostly black. The onset of this affiliation was simple: because it makes me look good. I enjoy the mysteria of black, more so than any other colour. I have no emotive reasoning for it. I have a head of blond hair, best described as surf hair, and I am of healthy weight.
Judging by the demeaning looks I score on the occasions I venture back into those places I used to frequent, my status as being stylish and trendsetting has been revoked. In this small town, you have to choose one or the other. Once again, simple choice. But does my work for insight make me a surfer chick? I enjoy a stiff hoodie layered with a biker jacket, I wear heavy boots with loose insight jeans. I suppose the question is self-answerable - I have my own style - all-encompassing.
What has changed is my previous obsession with being at the top of my fashion game at all times. I approach every day with much more ease and relaxedness, the ocean has softened me, I feel closer to where I am going, daily. This 'letting down of hair' has divorced me from my previous affiliates. The pseudo-edgy Euro trash aesthetic that currently rages through this city, dictated by a hand-full of tweens who have spent a year or so flitzing about on the EuroStar, picking up vintage Buffaloes and sporting them with irony back home. Even grunge did better for our scene than over-sized boxing shorts and gardener's beanies. I don't think I'm old fashioned, noted. However I have no tolerance for bad taste, disguised as envelope pushing fashion trends. It's the truth!
I am happier, healthier, and a whole lot more seated in life. At the expense of my credentials as a fashionista, I shall happily oblige. I'm still at the top of my game, I just don't advertise it on my hemline anymore.
I have grown up, n'est pas.
Do I have to choose between being grungy or being healthy? In which case, I would favour the latter, naturally. I have long outgrown my emaciated sense of belonging. However, my sense for aesthetics and the deep-found appreciation for 'high fashion' (oh how I hate that term) I cultivated whilst spending time in Europe, emaciated, is ever-present.
I started surfing three years ago, and was utterly convinced from the first time I bashed white water. At that time I was pursuing a darker shades of black and wore skeletons around my neck with conviction. I still wear mostly black. The onset of this affiliation was simple: because it makes me look good. I enjoy the mysteria of black, more so than any other colour. I have no emotive reasoning for it. I have a head of blond hair, best described as surf hair, and I am of healthy weight.
Judging by the demeaning looks I score on the occasions I venture back into those places I used to frequent, my status as being stylish and trendsetting has been revoked. In this small town, you have to choose one or the other. Once again, simple choice. But does my work for insight make me a surfer chick? I enjoy a stiff hoodie layered with a biker jacket, I wear heavy boots with loose insight jeans. I suppose the question is self-answerable - I have my own style - all-encompassing.
What has changed is my previous obsession with being at the top of my fashion game at all times. I approach every day with much more ease and relaxedness, the ocean has softened me, I feel closer to where I am going, daily. This 'letting down of hair' has divorced me from my previous affiliates. The pseudo-edgy Euro trash aesthetic that currently rages through this city, dictated by a hand-full of tweens who have spent a year or so flitzing about on the EuroStar, picking up vintage Buffaloes and sporting them with irony back home. Even grunge did better for our scene than over-sized boxing shorts and gardener's beanies. I don't think I'm old fashioned, noted. However I have no tolerance for bad taste, disguised as envelope pushing fashion trends. It's the truth!
I am happier, healthier, and a whole lot more seated in life. At the expense of my credentials as a fashionista, I shall happily oblige. I'm still at the top of my game, I just don't advertise it on my hemline anymore.
I have grown up, n'est pas.
There has been so little time to write lately. Tempted to do more re-blogging of pictures. There are just so many beautiful things out there! After a month of writing this blog, I am now officially paid to blog, who would have thought this was such a swift process? Happy days. Although i miss sleeping. I don't even sleep on the weekends these days - too busy chasing sunlight I don't see during office hours.
What else. It's gotten cold in Cape Town and the swell is picking up which is happy days for those not up-keeping a nine to five. Grump. I have officially been appointed first female brand ambassador for Insight in South Africa, this makes me rather giggly. Lots and lots and lots of free clothing from my favourite brand - could I be more spoilt? I shall be initiating more brand activation and lifestyle orientated marketing for the brand, as this aspect to Insight is completely underutilised within the South African market.
Slowly but surely I am edging myself towards a greater goal, it's all starting to take shape. No haste. Organic growth and what not. Although it seems difficult to settle to a steady pace, when I quite enjoy hitting the ground running.
Tuesday is nearly done. TG aait!
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