This happens to be my secondary blog, but because tumblr won’t let me switch with my primary blog which I abandoned many months ago, when I migrated to Wordpress, I’ve decided to close this account and start again.
So follow me now at: http://sequinsandcampari.com/
I’ve already managed to migrate all my old posts unto it.
And yay! I can now follow back.
Jumper // capsule (カプセル) // 2008
Just because I was recently re-introduced to capsule, which I’d stopped listening to maybe 3 years ago but who are still out of this world. I’ve rooted around on my old hard disk to find a whole world of Japanese electro/house I’d forgotten about, It’s wonderful.
At 7:35 A.M, you lay your tired body on mine
before peeling off, like a slow band-aid.
At 8:40 you sprint home and make instant coffee.
At 9:45 we finally drink it, cold.
I finish your leftover half.
By 10:50 you are already breathless.
I live for every time we overlap.
When 11:55 comes I spend the entire minute convincing you to stay.
You never do.
By noon I put my hands on your shoulders and say, “Baby,
you’re getting thin. All this running in circles and barely sitting down to eat.”
At 1:05 you tell me that while you were gone,
15,300 babies were born.
At 2:10 you don’t say a word,
just come in and kiss me for sixty seconds straight.
At 3:15 we sit quiet, listening to rain falling everywhere
in the world at once: all 15,000 tons.
At 4:20 we pull a little from the tight joint I keep behind your ear.
You do not inhale.
At 5:25 you meet me for happy hour.
My neck already salted, a lime wedged in my teeth,
a shot of tequila sitting on the bar.
At 6:30 I hear the ticking.
I count your heartbeat like seconds between thunderclaps.
By 7:35 I can see you in the distance,
each second a tease until you drape over me.
We always love quick and you never let me hold you.
I dream of drinking you through a straw.
At 8:40 you watch my beard grow 0.00027 of an inch.
At 9:45 we do not speak.
Too many people have died since we last met.
At 10:50 we pray for a meteor,
at least a clumsy kid to spill sugar in our gears.
11:55 is my favorite.
We’re only apart for mere minutes.
But at midnight you’ll apologize sixty times
because it will always be like this.
At 1:04 AM I am already sleeping.
It’s exhausting loving someone
who is constantly running away.
Wuthering Heights dir. Andrea Arnold, 2011
After watching Fish Tank I had high hopes for Wuthering Heights, if only because I have been waiting for a decent adaptation of what is, in my humble opinion, the greatest, most torturous love story ever to be published.
However it was a disappointment, James Howson just isn’t up to the task of channelling such hatred, hurt and bitterness that defines Heathcliff’s character. More importantly the film finished before he begins emotionally torturing Isabella and physically abusing Hareton. And in doing so, Arnold deprives us of the closure that is the blooming love of Hareton and Cathy years later.
Imagine french designers with german names…
Ivo Sankt Lorenz
or Johannes Paul Gaultier (which literally means Horse animal)
No one would buy that shit.
Hieronymus Bosch, detail from Garden of Earthly Delights right wing ”Hell”, 1490-1510 @ Museo Del Prado
Generally referred to as the ‘Prince of Hell’ because of the cauldron that sits upon his bird head, Bosch’s monster idles upon his throne/toilet simultaneously eating and excreting human corpses.
If something were to convince me to go to Spain, this would probably be it. That and a holiday in Barcelona.
O.P.I Nail Lacquer in Coney Island Cotton Candy
About six months ago Adele caught me ogling her nail polish enviously and a week later she gave it to me! Since then it’s the only nail polish I use. Your fingers look instantly longer and when the colour starts picking off, nobody can tell, so you look constantly well groomed.
Vaseline Lip Therapy Pink Bubbly - Limited Edition @ boots.com.
I am a sucker for good packaging and Hornall Anderson did a great job designing these tins of Vaseline. Branding design is just so fascinating, because it defines the first impression … and this makes me go: ooooh pretty. I call that a win.
Vivienne Westwood, The Watteau Gown, 1996, made of shot silk faille, taffeta and deerskin currently part of the permanent collection of the V&A.
This is, without a doubt, the most glorious dress that has ever been created. Anytime I’m anywhere near South Kensington I absolutely have to run in to have a quick look at it. Though usually on permanent exhibition, last time I went into the V&A, the Watteau had been relocated to an fee-charging exhibition - Ballgowns: British Glamour Since 1950. Pressed for time at that moment I nonetheless regret not having gone to see it. I’ll just have to make up for it and go see the exhibition in November, when I’m next in London. Gosh ballgowns, I’m so excited!
PS. The V&A has the world’s best giftshop.