No words, only melody comes...

Last night consisted of activities that are quickly becoming typical events in my life: G and I visited some friends, had some beers with such friends, listened to music and took some pictures. It was one of those days, however, where I had worn something so unimpressively boring and 'conservative' to work that I felt the need to pile on the awesomest anti-desk job clothing within reach and give my Anita Pallenberg hat a warm welcome into my daily wardrobe, which happily resulted in an immediate sense of self-love on my part....moments like this one remind me why I love clothing as much as I do!
On to the stunningly exciting news I've vaguely alluded to for a little while and finally promised yesterday to divulge: G and I will be going to New York Fashion Week! Or rather, will be in NYC throughout New York Fashion Week...god knows if we'll actually be able to get into any of the shows, but I definitely plan on trying. However, even if we don't, can you imagine how amazing just sitting outside the tents and watching the street style is going to be? Ahhh it's all too much excitement, I have so many plans and very little direction...luckily for me that's usually where the wonderful reasonable, rational and logical G comes in and saves the day though! So yes, it's being planned and booked and we're actually going. As you can probably imagine I nearly squeal every time I go type that.
One thing I DO know we will be doing in NYC for sure is attending Spirit Animal House, a party being thrown at Pianos by the wicked hot ladies of NoGoodForMe.com which promises to be entirely off the hook. So if any of you, my gorgeous and dear readers, are in the 'hood (or do they call them bourghs [sp?] in NYC? There is so much to learn!) and want to swing by on the evening of September 9, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will be there, wearing what I hope turns out to be the most fabulous thing on the face of the planet. I'm going to a very specifically out-of-this-world-super-fabulous vintage shop here in Toronto either this weekend or early next week to begin looking for such ensemble - wish me luck!
I have a ridiculously busy couple of days ahead of me (such 'busyness' being wholly inclusive of enjoying what is technically one of the last weeks of summer), and consequently won't be updating here until bright and early on Monday morning. Lastly, this has been one of our best weeks EVER; mucho, mucho thanks to each and every single one of you and have a fantastic weekend everyone!
Wearing

Skirt: Levi's

Everything else: vintage

My Best Imaginary Best Friends, Installment #1: Anita Pallenberg

As opposed to creating a pedantic hero-worship series on this blog, I've decided to share with the world my idea of who the best imaginary best friends (henceforth referred to as BIBF) would be. Keep in mind that this series will not concern itself with time or space - in my imaginary best friend relationships, such concepts are of no importance or relevance. And yes, I'm aware that this is childish and probably slightly disconcerting, but I can't help it. Herein lies a great deal of the beauty of having BIBFs: you never actually get to know whether or not their company is as hellish as that of the majority of humanity and, since you have chosen them as a BIBF, you therefore assume they are perpetually entertaining/witty/inspiring and you never get to the point of having one of those horrible I-have-nothing-common-with-you-anymore-and-I-don't-understand-how-I-ever-thought-you-weren't-as-hellish-as-the-rest-of-the-world situations arise, as they tend to in real life.

I've actually just managed to convince myself that this BIBF idea is not as disconcerting or insane as I initially thought it to be - it's downright rational. And now, on with the show...

ANITA PALLENBERG

First and foremost, let me put it out there that I have never had one of those awesome best girlfriends like you see in romantic comedies and inane television programs. I've always wanted one, but generally I find people with the XX chromosome to be one of two types. The first is difficult to carry on a conversation with, vapid, petty, not trustworthy, soft-spoken and generally...I don't know, girlish. The second type, while possessing the opposite of such aforementioned qualities, is arguably even worse: environmentalist, hyper-feminist, man-hating, ra-ra-sisterhood grossness.

I will admit that my love for Anita is, at its core, wholly superficial. Yes, she had a bit part as the Black Queen in Barbarella, and apparently modelled in the early 1960's, but when it comes down to it, she is significant in that she is the sixth Rolling Stone and the epitome of proper rock n' roll chic. This being said, I am not going to wax poetic about Anita's ridiculously amazing and influential style, torrid relationships with at least two of the most important men in music and pseudo-career as an MAW (model, actress, whatever). I am going to explain why she, circa 1964 through 1977, is my ultimate BIBF though: it's because I feel like a less cool version of her (I can't believe I am admitting this on the internet). She seems feminine but not girly, intelligent but not overbearing, feminist and still loves the misogynistic Keith, stylish but not a trend whore - so not one of the two neurotypical types. And...I am all of these things! Anita is, in my mind, an amplified, well-connected, gorgeous version of myself.

Below see Anita in all of her maddening, superchic, insanely good-looking glory:

With Brian Jones. If my boyfriend and I could ever possibly look like this, if even for a day, I think my heart would explode with the agony of too much joy. With Keith and the children. How it is possible for a human being to look this amazing after giving birth, I don't believe I will ever know. This leads me to believe that Anita is possibly not half-Italian, half-German (like me!) at all, but in fact some type of extraordinary extra-terrestrial.

With Marianne Faithfull, en route to Tangier, circa 1967. These two blow my mind with their mutual and non-adversarial awesomeness. I need a Marianne.

...Now, unless you're convinced that I'm insane (which I'm not, I swear!), let me know in the comments section who your BIBF would be. It's more fun than you might think...

Photo credits: No idea. They've been saved on my computer in one of my many "Icons" folders for eons. What I do know, however, is that they're not mine and I take absolutely no credit for them whatsoever.