Morphee, Ki Ki and I had a wow of a time last night at 202. We hip flasked it. I ate Oporto. We got off our trolley (quite literally). My earring broke. We scabbed drinks. We stumbled home. It was a good night.
Who would have thunk it was possible to draw a parallel between I Love Lucy, Amy Winehouse and Cholas, but apparently I found a way. And it was pretty funny. Hair all done up in a blood bandana, flano, crazy Wino catlike eyeliner, heartshaped gold bamboo hoops, red lips and nails matching... super fun. All I was missing was some rinestone spectacles. God I love taking the piss out of my own style.
I love Lucy's irony. The perfect little housewife who's always doing the silliest things (case in point - the grape stomping episode). I love her gorgeous hairdo and her perfect makeup. Those glasses she gets about in remind me of these gorgeous specs available through A-Morir by Kerin Rose. I've been meaning to mention Kerin for ages but just keep putting it off - she makes some gorgeous accessory pieces!
These frames kind of remind me of the midpoint between my Great Grandmother and Dame Edna Everage - only edgier. I don't have a scanned photo of my Nanna Clarice circa late 60s early 70s, but she did rock a pair of very thick black spectacles. Hence the midpoint between black specs and Dame Edna. God I love a blue rinse.
On to good old Amy Winehouse. Headscarf - check. Catlike eyeliner - check. Attitude - check. She can even rock a flano. Even if she is a junkie, she has some enivable style to copy for shits and giggles.
Even though these two lovely ladies dressed like Cholas for a Haloween party, I love the pisstake. Look at that sensational lipliner Little Miss Black Bandana is rocking. The headscarves. The flanos. The glases. The hoops. The 'no you di'nt' pouts. It's like they just stepped out of the party scene in Boyz in the Hood. God love the early 90s.
But seriously, real Cholas are mad cool. What I love most about this picture is the gang symbols, and how at one time or another, those symbols probably meant something really scary. Now, as soon as you try to take a photo, peeps throw up the weirdest shapes with their hands. It's almost like an instant reaction whenever a camera is present. 'Camera? Better get my finger yoga on yo!' Ironically, I'm probably the worst possible finger pretzel offender I know. No photo of me would be complete without scissors. Even whilst balancing precariously on a shopping trolley.
Note my awesome Valentine 90s.