Look, Know

All I Want

I bought this jacket and the matching dress, (which was a fantastic outfit for London Pride) in the Zara sale and have felt this jacket was simply the best thing I've bought this summer. I jut keep wearing it and wearing it...

 

Clashing prints, or mixing florals, or worn as a suit. Having a lot of fun with this jacket.

My camera got stolen, and I've been travelling up and down the country having a glorious time... Styal mill was brilliant, got some really interesting videos and trying to speak to the curator to get hold of original archived designs... Work on Trial happened, my best friend came to stay with me in London and we had ball... and to Manchester I went... also to Isle of Wight

Which was amazing, but took a horrific 8 hours to get there...

Planning on doing some seaweed based work perhaps.. purely for the colours: the coral, plum and rusty colours strewn on the beach caught my eye...

But mostly I seem to have been drinking and eating an awful lot,  going to lots of art galleries, seeing old faces and new... and it's still not dampened.

Paris in two weeks, then Budapest... all mixed in is London and Manchester. I'm very excited, and having a wonderful summer, can't ask for more... Just a bit rubbish I no longer have a nice DSLR... never mind.

 

Edge of Seventeen

Having a little long hair moment. Today we see the side parting, with bed waves (i.e getting up and not brushing your hair). I'm finding these culottes a really easy-to-wear piece of clothing, with something simple on top. Looks good with a suit jacket too. I got them from topshop, and I don't know whether to buy the other pair online, or to copy the pattern and make myself a pair on the cheap. I'm constantly in awe of Kirsty from Fatty Unbound's dress making skills, so yeah, having discovered the unlimited amount of choice to be found in London regarding fabric, it seems such a shame not to take advantage! 

So tonight it's Manchester's Slut walk, and tomorrow will be the London incarnation. As most of you will be aware, Slut walks have been happening up and down the U.S and have now made their way to the U.K too. A lot of people, men and women alike, are struggling to comprehend why anyone would try and reclaim a word like "Slut" which is steeped long enough in history with the meaning of a slovenly woman, fallen or otherwise, but definitely not one to be regarded as respectable. Some say it's an ugly word, some women are proud to proclaim themselves one. I on the other hand feel that the Slut walks, are more than about re-appropriating a word that was used in Shakespearian English, and less about the implication that dressing like one (it's debatable on what this actually constitutes) could be the precursor for a person to raped. In my eyes, Slut walks are about saying, shouting, screaming that you can't tell anyone what to wear, because whatever women wear, rape will always happen. All over the world. 

Whether it's a niqab, mini skirt, maxi dress, sari, bikini whatever... women and men have the right to wear what they wish and not be abused.  Looking sexy, isn't a crime. Rape is. And the attitude towards women who wear a short skirt, high heels or low cut top – or a combination of all three – as being one who is out there asking for an invitation to sex. Well it might well be, as much as I am not an advocate for revealing all, there is nothing shameful in being proud of your body and wanting to show it off, and to happily want to have sex with multiple partners. Just as there is no shame in covering up. The girls may be dressing up like dolled up peacocks, but that doesn't mean she is putting herself out there as a signal for rape, that somehow she was always asking for sex, so it doesn't matter. No means no, just as yes means yes. The attitude of, if you look like a slut, you're asking to be raped, is an insult to women, men and children who are raped, the world over, despite this. So the Slut Walk to me, is about the freedom to dress as one wishes to, slut or not and to raise the point that women don't get raped because of what they wear, rape is about domination, power, not really ever about sex itself. And can I add, the culture of accepting violence towards to the woman who looks like a slut, is presumed by default a reference to sex workers, and infers the argument that sex workers deserved to be raped. Which is not on. There is nothing wrong with female sexuality, or the right to be safe at work.

This is just before I went out, thought I'd add it to the post, showing the outfit with the coat! 

Sorry for the Stevie overdose... I've just had this song in my head all week!

 

Utterly Relaxed

Can you tell? I've got my hair down, I dried it naturally and it's gone super wavy, which just makes me feel über girly. You can't tell that much in the picture, but it's a full head of mussy frizzy softly formed waves...Last night I went to see the Kills at the roundhouse wearing my mother's 70's maxi dress, and super messy hair, I felt a bit like Stevie Nicks..  But back on feeling relaxed. It's a gorgeous day which I've spent out of the sun - as it's bad for you other than in small doses. And I've literally leisured in not doing anything at all, which has become a rare occurrence of late, so I'm not complaining. Book, music, balcony windows wide open, hummus, salad, and plenty of squash.... have provided a lovely safe place to curl up in and enjoy the day from the safety of home, and not on one's feet.  I've totally forgotten  about the smack head who was shooting up, in our bottom stairwell this week (man with no teeth and just wearing socks) and I'm looking forward to perhaps having an evening stroll. I've had a couple of projects on the go, one I had to put aside to make time for uni work. So seeing as I've pretty much finished for the year, I want to keep my brain on the go, and pick it up again. Good news, I am going to be a weaver and not a stitcher/multimedia textiles as I initially thought, which is all good news as I am actually getting pretty excited about starting weave next term. Plus the onset of summer, getting out of London, and having a knees up in Manchester... Can't speak too soon, as thats not until two weeks away, and Work on Trial is due on the 4th July, which I am looking for artists at the moment to exhibit down at the Resistance gallery. I think I myself am going to do a little piece about the textile industry in the North, mainly Lancashire, and how the industry was the epitome of capitalism, poor factory workers in an industrialist society, but also probably making a comment about how manufacturing has disappeared int he U.K and moved to the South Asia, and the Far East, where labor is cheaper... I'll have to do more research, as I know fairly little about the subject at the moment, but it's something I've always had an affinity with. I remember the Quarry bank Styal Mill visits we had when we were in primary school, seeing the factory floors where children were employed and worked 14 hours a day. It's now preserved as a museum of the cotton and textile industry, a relic of the industrial revolution. It has most of the original machines still in situ, making it one of the best preserved textile mills in the country (that's what wiki says...but my textile historian tutor told us that too!) I went back a couple of months ago for a woodland walk... and really wanted to go on the weavers tour...but we didn't have time, so I might make it my mission to do that in the next week or so... Good stuff. Hopefully I'll have a better blog post than this one next time, but I'm quite happy to ramble on. It's just been one of those days. Have wonderful weekends!

 

Scrabble

I don't want to say much more than; I miss wearing this dress often but since it's literally falling apart at the seams,  and that means it has limited wears before it disintegrates, (I wore it safety pinned together here) I love wearing my hair like this, I think red lips are a great failsafe, I still fucking love blue and red, and that H my flatmate, B our friend from over the road and I, all got slightly squiffy and played scrabble last night to inaugurate the new dining table. Plus life is nearly getting sorted, and my degree might just be worth something at the end of it all...Photos from Friday Morning. I'm off to an anti-islamophobic conference in Whitechapel today, and then meeting people for some Vietnamese food hopefully, and seeing a friend's band... Positive outlook for a bright and sunny Saturday morning!

Scrabble aftermath....

 

Home Sweet Home

I'm suffering from a minor cold at the moment, head feels fuzzy indeed. These photos were from just before the cold hit. This is me having a play with plaits, as I said I was going to in my last post, god knows why I decided to go for the milk maid look, and then a couple of days after, I saw on Milk Teeths, Ashley looking lovely, and sporting the exact hairstyle, it's been around a while I know but Fashion is a funny one, simply in the way it infiltrates ones subconscious, without even realising...  I'm sure many people will be acutely aware of what new hair trends are... and as you all know, I couldn't give a monkeys, but I do have silly long hair, and am too tepid to even consider going near a pair of unqualified scissors, and I just don't have the knowledge or the money to spend on good hair. Therefore, milk maids, plaits, buns, bee hives, up dos, pony tails are going to have to do... What I do need is a trim, and an assault on my fringe (I can never decide between blunt, or side swept and by the time I've done side swept and am ready to grow the fringe out to get an actual hairdresser to cut it, in I go with my golden swallows and chop it, really badly across the eyes) and some sort of style cut into it, so I can least wear it wavy and down. My hair eight months ago, http://look-know.typepad.com/look-know/2010/09/venus-in-furs.html so I reckon I'll just get it styled in a similar fashion.

Hair is such a big deal, this may sound shallow, but good hair and shit hair, really make all the difference between feeling vulnerable, and hair so coiffed you might as well be wearing armour (Anna Wintour anyone?). Hair is powerful full stop. It's the first thing to get experimented with as a teenager, trying to muddle through your adolescence in a bid to figure out who you are. Hair is such a vivid lollipop-traffic-light of a sign, of who you are, who you want to be, or perversely: what other people want to think of you as. When I was about 13 my hair was very short and I was accused of being a lesbian, as of course it's a derogatory affliction right? And was bullied horrifically, all because I had short hair and kids being homophobic - but it was the short hair that triggered the violence, as it was an out and out symbol of proof that I was queer. Which is disgusting behaviour, and I blame a school that wouldn't believe a young girl was being bullied for being gay. But none the less, I kept it short, and for a long time, the length of my hair fluctuated from super crop, to shoulder length and back again...till I was 16... and I had a fair few different styles...

Rai aged 16 (excuse the 16yr old graphics)

I kept it short and cropped, I had it spiky, I had it flicky, I had it curly and bobbed, and then it grew and grew until in a mad panic aged 15 I cut it all off in a bizarre mess. I got marched to the hair dressers, wearing my mod crimpelene orange mini dress, and the hair dresser, Gary – how I miss you in my time of need!! – ingeniously cut me an asymmetric Vidal Sassoon-esque 60's bob to match it. The pattern has been, super short hair when I've been single, and short bobs lending to longer lengths growing out, when romantically entangled. By the time I was 19, I'd kept it in a blunt bob for what seemed like aeons...and gradually as love blossomed, the hair kept growing. (I must add my hair grows VERY fast, I could have a crop and six months later I would have grown it out completely) I now find myself with the longest hair I've had since I was 12...and even though I have had it trimmed, with those scant trips to the salons,  I've invariably kept it mid length to long.

The relationship between hair and identity is a long and well established one, and if I look at my hair right now, it doesn't feel exactly healthy, or even look good, it's a sprawling mess atop my head most days, I hate washing it (it's such a bore to wash long hair) tons of it fall out, and I've got the flying grey hair or two shining in among the black mass, what that says about my identity, lord knows. I don't think I could cut it though...Yes, I know it's a dull boring hair cut, and it mustn't say much about me as a person, but for me... it seems like my hair is this mad symbol of stability, comfort, and a soft billowy constant.  I'll wear it up and show my face, but to cut my hair now would be a brave and bold thing, and maybe I just can't be that right now, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I love the fact that there are so many cute girls wandering around with cropped hair, and if I'm honest, I smile and think fondly of my own hair cuts, and the mad wonderful memories with them. Hair is such an emotional thing indeed...

Contemplative, wearing my trusty vintage polka dot shirt, with a H&M ruffled navy skirt, MaxMara knitted stockings, and black canvas lace ups from Topshop from when I was at college.

Do you like our new dining table? I upholstered the seats myself... 

Camberwell

 

Just before leaving the house to go to a gig in Brixton....

God I do love Camberwell, and it's been lovely house sitting for L&B, not to mention poor scaredy cat Oliver, who is just a wreck of nerves (seen in the last picture) but is very cute despite being a temperamental being and a wee unpredictable. J called him the devil cat, which I reckon is slightly unfair! After getting to know him, he has his ways, and likes affection, but may lash out when grumpy... fair enough, as I've met a few human beings with similar patterns of behaviour if you ask me!

 

Clothing wise, swishing around in wonderful amounts of skirts, is a new love of mine, Mixing a patterned trouser with a dark shirt, helps keep the top half slim, and the bottom half, floral and floaty and bright.... it felt like a good mix. I really enjoyed wearing my hair down today, (not very visible in these pictures) I felt like I had the ironed hair of seasoned 70's girl. I can't bring myself to cut it, so after to talking to some friends, I might start experimenting with plaits, or different ways of putting my hair up (and not just a scruffy bun as I'm prone to at the moment) 

Will have to say goodbye to Camberwell in a few days and return back home, to Stokey, but its been lovely down here, but I miss my bed and my flat mate! Not to mention my sewing machine..

Wearing red and blue floral culottes, blue loafers, velvet smock coat, printed scarf and knitted turban head wrap, underneath is a silk navy shirt and striped jersey jacket.

Fucking love this tune....

 

Hear me, See me.

The problem with some disability charities, is that in order to raise funds, its easier to hold a campaign that treats the subject as helpless, and in need of help from the able bodied, as something to pity and look down on, so donators feel obliged to feel sorry for that unfortunate person/cause and give money to the charity. That is how some charities work, despite the all very well and do good claims of providing support/care/services to those in "need" and somehow benefiting those in "need". If the whole process is patronising, and say a disability charity claims to help disabled persons live a better life, but in order to procure funds, it needs to keep disabled people looking helpless, in need, and therefore keeping a lid on progression. They do not stand to normalise disability, but instead feed off it, by maintaining the pity campaign, of "look at this person's poor story, and then we stepped in and saved the day to make the world a little bit of a better place!" Congratulations. 

Positive campaigns don't work they say, if you're so ready to fight in solidarity, then why would you need our help, and our donations of £2 a month? Is it people's attitudes? Or is it that certain charities hold the power, of image and message, and crucially how they spend it? I know that charities exist because of the gaps in social care, and the extra services they provide can help thousands, not to mention research, and influence they can have as lobbyists. But I'm sorry I'm feeling angry here, I'm fed up being looked at as a charity case, as undermined and pitied. And this is how people raise money? To keep people down, to maintain a negative image in peoples eyes.

It should be a fight for equality, to champion what the disabled can do, and on their own, with support of systems in place to help, yes of course, but with individual thought and intelligence. For too long, a seen disability is the centre of a pity party, and is skirted around as a difficult subject to handle, and for too long, those with unseen disabilities are not taken seriously, or accommodated to at work. Is it a contradiction? That in order to be taken seriously, I have to really push the fact that I'm in severe pain, and make it known. Most of the time I am shushtm, I don't complain, I don't let others know, because I feel the pity party descend on me, I feel I don't get the chance to prove myself. Yet the discrimination you face when seen with a crutch is brutally disabling. You take on the mind set of others, that others are feeling sorry for you, but would rather they didn't have to see your disability.

That is something I don't have control over, and I cannot change everyone's minds. But if certain charities keep the link of  being helpless and unwanted with disabled people needing the help of abled people, then I'm sorry it impacts the overall message of how a minority is still fighting to be seen and heard in this 21st century society. 

Written by a Rheumatoid Arthritis sufferer of nine years, an unseen disability. 

Painting in the Garden

This is what I wore to a barbecue, the other day, and for sunning around last weekend. Not done much on this bank holiday, sort of wish I went back up to Manchester one last time before term starts. But then I realised I still had loads of work to do, and wanted to go to a book opening and perhaps go to one of the screenings of the East End Film Festival this weekend. Did I manages to do any of the aforementioned? Nope. I'm house sitting for some friends, and they happen to have a lovely garden, and it happens to be lovely and sunny. So, I've just been sitting out in the garden, with Oliver the cat, having a read, and drawing a bit.... Sometimes, you just need to be on your own for a bit and just not have to be doing anything. Well, I do have plenty to do, so you could just call it procrastinating to be fair!

I love this little vintage dress, as it really does feel very summer in the garden, it's been put to good use in this fair weather we've been having. Plus the ruffles on the sleeves are just one of those details that make me covet something even more. Statement sleeves are always a winner for me. It looks pretty twee here, with the flowery tights and brogues, but I never think these things through very much. Although, it does looks great with the turquoise platforms, bare legs, blue toenails, and a printed jacket on top to boot... but I was off to a garden party – the kind where everyone gets sloshed sitting on the grass wrapped up with blankets, and candles are lit when dusk arrives, not the kind where you eat sandwiches and politely drink wine – so I felt like triple floral was the way to go. Do as the heart says.

Not particularly looking forward to going back to uni tomorrow, so I'm just pretending I'm still on holiday in the next two weeks, while I camp out in Camberwell.

This is on one of my favourite playlists to get me to keep working...

 

My New Favourite Suit

Ok last night was brilliant. This is what I wore to chair my session, and to get a bit rowdy. As you might know, I've been dying to get my hands on a printed suit – a proper jacket and trousers combo – and here I am. I bloody love it as a suit. I've never had a good relationship with trousers, but even these light coloured printed ones, are cut to a flattering fit. I got a size 12 to be on the safe side, and I'm glad. In the end I wore orange tights, and purple lips. It looked ace.

Wearing a suit, is always seen as, "look I'm here for business, take me seriously" and since I'd done very little public speaking, or addressing an audience whilst sounding coherent, maybe at the back of my mind, I didn't want to wear a dress. You all know I'm small, and I do make a bigger deal out of it than I should, but that's mainly because if I don't say something first, then usually an ignorant bystander/bully has done in the past – I must say I wasn't worried about abuse last night, as it's such a safe space for alternative thinking/discussion – hence this little chip on my shoulder about my height, has created a complex about people not taking me seriously (evidence in my heel addiction). I have to say donning this suit, I felt more excited to wear a matching print than anything else, and I really loved the outfit, and I think it's that, that gives you confidence. No matter what you're wearing, if you feel great about your outfit, and know that it doesn't need fiddling, and you feel comfortable, then that's going to be a massive boost to helping you stay assertive, and just generally confident in your knowledge to cope with what's being thrown at you. I don't think I've ever felt so relaxed in an outfit in a long while, even whilst challenging the limits of what I thought I could do! 

Elephant printed suit, cropped tapered trousers in a loose fit, with a light pyjama jacket, both from Topshop, worn with a navy blue silky shirt from Zara, and my trusty Office platforms.

 

Do I think that by dressing in clothes that have male undertones, this then creates the thinking that to be taken seriously you need to wear a suit? The answer is no, I would say this suit felt more fun than anything, and the heels added stature and were really comfy (wore them all night) and maybe there was an element of power dressing, but this isn't about my femininity, as I think it's quite a girly outfit, but I definitely believe it was about putting on a costume, putting a brave face on, and knowing the suit would somehow egg me on! 

But yeah not watching wedding, couldn't think of anything worse. It's two people I don't know getting married, and I'm not invited...? Yeah... and? BUT I am going to enjoy the day off with some lovely people, hopefully in their garden if it stops raining! 

Some Kills for you...

 

Bondage Up Yours

Landed in London with a thump, an armful too many bags to carry, (as a result of not using a proper suitcase and lots of little bags/backpacks/totes instead) straight off the train, to a meeting, and then scrambling back into the flat at around quarter to ten in the evening. Arms weary, curry that was lovingly packed in my bags from my mother, was eaten, and to bed I went. I forgot to see that the package from Topshop with stuff I'd ordered a while back, was waiting by my desk. In it was this waftingly chiffon 70's print top, plus the exciting suit I'm wearing to chair the debate on Thursday night. You'll get to see that later.

So I've paired it with my old pleated silky midi, and as a result, feel quite 1930's in this ensemble. The sun's out, but I've got shit load of work to hurry up with today, not to mention tying up all those loose ends for tomorrow night. I have had the most relaxing, indulgent weekend in Manchester. I have to say, I spent most of it either eating, or drinking... care of beer garden drinking, eating out and the culinary delights J cooks up for me.

Our bank holiday number one consisted of a lot of this, shown below, and not much else! On Saturday my boyfriend laid out a fantastic feast of oysters and prosecco, dressed crab, and a glorious moules marinières, made with a stock from the left over crab legs. Which was beyond delicious, and shamefully when we nipped out for drinks after, I had some pudding, in the form of a pecan and white chocolate brownie. Happy stuffed pigeon of girl I was indeed! And even though we have cans of Magners out on Chorlton green, we've enjoyed a lot of lovely real ale, and cask ciders & perry. No wonder I left feeling about 5lbs heavier. 

Wearing my lovely vintage 60's dress with sandals on the green, and look at the little (HUGE) fellow who joined us. Ah to be relaxing in the sunshine with nothing more to do than meander down to the pub, was so indulgent I can't think of any other words to describe it. 

 

Ok back to sewing words on to Niqabs. Reality hits.

Just a video to commemorate Poly-Styrene, who died yesterday after a long battle with cancer.

R.I.P Poly