Showing posts with label Natalia Vodianova. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Natalia Vodianova. Show all posts

Saturday, November 20, 2010

involinary impulses repressed

Fall is the season I love. but this weather makes me overly sentimental and needy.
Plants have started to grow, so excited for that 60 Ranunculs where planted (I went a little over board, even though I don't believe such things.)
Hats are coming along fabulously, much better than I could have hoped for or foreseen. I wish I had a personal camera to procure eveidents of my milinary skills. oh well, maybe that is what I will ask Santa for, probaly not.
I still want my shoes.
I know this is old, & I'm still mad about it.










Monday, November 23, 2009

let's pretend im a hyena and you're a bone.



Not in chronological order, you must have read the books to be able to untangle this mess. Yes, Natalia Vodianova is my favorite model.













Wednesday, November 11, 2009

First step towards recovery, admittance. At least thats what I have heard.

I am a "hoarder" in the worst way. Clippings, pictures, nicknack's, books, scraps of paper (that make absolutely no sense when rediscovered) I do not have one of anything. I love ribbon, coats, shoes is another HUGE issue I have to deal with, but frankly I am not going to fix that.

Fastest way to my heart is to complement me on my shoes. I can say I dated some one because the first thing he said to me was "wow those are some great shoes." A pretty generic complement, and I rarely accept complements in the first place, but I agreed with him. Maybe it was just one of those days.

It's possible that I'm just greedy. I would like to consider myself a collector of ideas, that shoves them all into a box, for later use.

Clippings have become a growing problem, but in attempts to orginize such items, I stumbled upon some of my favorite editorials of all time. I have hunted for them high and low using the world wide web, just so I have 2 sets of these fantastic shots. I showed this paticular editorial, that I was estatic to find, to some friends who were over, my enthuseasum was not recipricated. maybe someone can appericate this.















This is such a devine life. This is her real family. I yern to gain anything slightly resembling this state of being