CTFO

First of all to start off this entry I hope you all had a very merry Ludacrismas & an enjoyble yet disappointing New Year's eve.
I know mine was, well.. at least it was lovely up until a dreadful glittery boob fest I attended against my will post countdown. I entered 20 (legs) 11 in the most fed up grumpy biatch way ever, cursing, crying and falling asleep home alone at 3am!
Before the point inwhich I went insane I had made up a motto for the new year, Chill the Fuck Out... Which I do need to do a lot more, stop getting irratated and unecessarily upset over tiny things in life. I wrote it on my knuckles, I fist bumped it throughout the night.. yet I didn't stick by it for longer than a few hours, hopefully it can follow me for the rest of the year.

JANUARY PLANS:
Just to stop myself waffling on about my unpleasantness in generally I want to share with you some exciting plans for January.

11th Jan- Brooklyn Queenz are djing somewhere in the city, (faux) Versace clad and dazzlingly orange for the occasion.

And... I plan to have a few dinner parties, eat more cheese, drink more wine and live the very few spare hours to the fullest!
Oh I've also totally lost my lust to write, I want it back.

Kicks n Corsets

The idea of a singing modern day burlesque troupe has been poorly executed by The Pussycat Dolls (only one member actually can sing) but I have big ideas to start a burlesque femcee troupe. Kicks and corsets is what jumped out of my friend's (Ran-D one half of The Jump Rope) mouth the other day over coffee when I was sharing burlesque class stories, seems we were on the same page. It's perfectly wedged between my two style obsessions... (no pasties sorry),and I think it would be cool to spit a mean verse posed upside down on a folding chair.
Tricks, kicks AND CORSETS.

The world of burlesque is associated with old music, vintage costumes and cutesy/cheeky persona attached, it would be interesting to put a hardcore "bitch" spin on it and maybe cut out some of those "Oopsy doopsy I just popped" faces.

Of course props to Kim for absolutely mincing a track in an air constricting corset and a suffocating wig (it's like a ballet concert all over again! I can feel the itching!) She's truly committed to a costume.

Oh and I didn't even go into the gory details of burlesque, after my first lesson my thighs were painted with hardcore bruises, I looked like a street fighter and quite frankly I enjoyed it.
So... wouldn't that just make the whole thing more "gangsta"?

kidding kidding... bruises are not an upside to the art.

GREEN MEANS GO, YELLOW MEANS SLOW, RED MEANS STOP NOW DROP NOW ROLL

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JA-MAKIN-ME-CRAYZAY

Pucci Pucci POO!

Hi, not usual that I blogfash but I'm excited by my recent find! Early 60's Emilio Pucci, cotton PLAYSUIT aka Jayne Mansfield takes a bloody vacation!
When Something fits like a glove and matches your French vintage bikinis (and you have a pool party the following day) ... you can't really say no!
What do you think?






It was a lovely sunny day in Williamstown, spent the afternoon post work with my darling sister and we had a ball drooling over beautiful vintage clothes and bitching. My Pucci just topped it off!!
p.s. Bruises on my thighs are from Burlesque CLASSES... to be in next blog

\/\/EST

Hey ho lets go back to last night when I saw Ice Cube at the palace (unexpectdly alone) ... where I was completely surrounded by boagns and wanna be thugs alike, breaking in my hot pink Nikes in a top notch colour co-ordinated outfit that would scare the hell out of the average monotone sack wearer and dancing my little heart out with my not so committed 'dubz' in the air (only for Cube). The night began shakey with my friends experiencing a heartbreaking ticket fuck up, leaving me on my lonesome and them feeling ultimately shitted off.
I soon found my nook in amongst tough looking Islander ladies with plenty of tude and a charming woman who pretty much high fived me every two minutes but things got weird when she licked her spilt bundy and coke off my arm.

It's not the first time I've ended up alone at a gig so I block out the crowd and appreciate the music more, and more importantly block out the man singing Black or White to my two tone stockings on the way out of the venue.
GOOD TIMES

Dutty Dutty Dutty Dum Dum feelin' like I'm letting go

Hey, I'm pretty much going mad. Not sure if it was the pumpkin spanking or the hours I spent laughing at a picture of a German Shepherd wearing a Raiders cap and sunnies... ahhh Oh dear...
I think I have more passion in my dream life as always, ripping flesh off the arms of other women.

Dis is a dubz cee produkshizzle

Yo Yo... last night went off at the Glasshouse, my first performance with CCR and it went off.
Here is some backstage footage--

Besides the sell out show and knock'em dead parma, I got all inspired to start writing my mixtape... and Camp Camp got all excited to produce it n shit yaaaaaay.
So.. I'm not being funny because I have to get down to business. Start writing and shit. I'll hit y'all back once I get my macbook pro. xx peace mudaz