pretty boys, pouty lips

For as long as I can remember, my mother has been telling me stories of herself as a teenager in the late 1960's, when she was madly in love with Mick Jagger (complete with poster-kissing, and the like). I always thought she was hopelessly silly for that, since, up until recently, I didn't find Mr. Jagger at all attractive (and, when looking at his present-day self,  I still don't)! But recently, something changed, and those puppy dog eyes and big pouty lips seem to win me over every single time. I also recently watched the lovely film Nowhere Boy, a biopic of John Lennon's teenage life, and I am once again in love with him and all of the young Beatles. But oh, Mick... and oh, every other pretty sixties man. x

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Mr. Harrison is a dream... 

And look at those lovely pastel suits! 

John x

He's got the most pinchable cheeks. 

Despite being a fresh-faced Mick Jagger fangirl, I will never stop loving Mr. Presley (just look at that cable-knit sweater! And that gorgeous hair!) 

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(For any male-appreciation post, Special Agent Dale Cooper aka Kyle Maclachlan must be included). 

Don't get me started on those sixties girls! 

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Lovely, lovely, lovely. 

pinafore days

When it comes to winter outfits, there's one thing I always come back to: the "pinafore look", or a dress layered on top of a long-sleeve shirt. It's always cozy, always cute, and makes me feel like twirling around in a sixties-era kitchen supply commercial, or something.

I bought this beautiful, beautiful faux-fur leopard coat from the sixties today. I'm absolutely in love with it! I feel a bit like Mrs. Robinson, minus that whole sordid affair with Dustin Hoffman thing. 

And I got these lovely red velvet mary-janes as an early Christmas gift from a friend... I'm madly in love.

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Dolores on the dotted line

“Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. My sin, my soul. Lo-lee-ta: the tip of the tongue taking a trip of three steps down the palate to tap, at three, on the teeth. Lo. Lee. Ta. She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita."

see here: 

(black velvet collard dress, cream boating hat, heart lollipop, black bow knee socks, patent white mary janes, tarot cards, cream silk lingerie set)

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street style

I'm absolutely infatuated with all of these outfits (no more needs to be said). 

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black widow

Whenever I dress in all (or mostly) black, there are always a few people who ask me if I've "gone goth". I personally prefer the completely pretentious and overused term "Parisian chic"! There is something so lovely about the women of Paris, the ones who roam the streets wearing black stockings and beautiful mini-dresses and berets, and sit in cafes eating croissants and drinking their cafe au lait... perhaps it's a ridiculously overused trope, but I adore the idea of it nevertheless.

On Mondays, I'm stuck in class from nine o'clock to five o'clock, and I only have time to grab coffee and croissants from a nearby cafe at random intervals throughout the day. So, Mondays have been dubbed my Parisian days, and I try to dress accordingly... x

(camel cashmere cardigan, spotted tights, red flats, black lace top, black mini circle skirt)

 

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daughters of darkness

A cinema-loving friend has been trying to convince me for ages now to watch some 1970's lesbian vampire films with him. I've refused, for no apparent reason (other than the fact that I've never really watched vampire films or old horror films). But last night, I finally gave in and watched a brilliant piece of cinema (with art direction by Francoise Hardy, of all people!), called Daughters of Darkness. It's a Belgian film from 1971, starring the ever so-stunning Delphine Seyrig (from one of my favorite Catherine Deneuve films, Donkey Skin) and has the absolute loveliest fashion. x

This gorgeous vampiress wore the most beautiful things. 

The film's main couple (especially Stefan!) was wonderful. 

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I adore how dreamy all the shots were, especially for a horror film. 

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Delphine Seyrig is a beautiful goddess. 

the gram, pt. 3

A sort-of-stranger once asked me: "How is your life so lovely? Can you teach me to be the way you are in the world? Everything seems so perfect; everything you do is full of the prettiest, most delicate things." While this flatters me endlessly, I don't find my life to be so lovely most of the time. It's not all soft, and lacy, and delicate. But quite often, the things that keep me going are. They are the little things, the gentle moments, the natural beauty that I come upon when walking down a road or through the aisles of a grocery store or in a relative's house. There is no secret to finding these beautiful things, besides the fact that you must learn to observe and to relax at the same time. I like to think that the prettiest things make themselves appear when someone goes through life always looking, but never searching. At least, that's what I try to do. 

(these lovelies are from the archives of my instagram feed, seen here)

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