Fancy meeting you here…

Why hello world, nice to see you again.

I know it’s been a while, but life just caught up with me. It’s been a busy few weeks (months really), but I’m taking this lazy evening to compose a long overdue post. I’ll officially be finished my clinical year soon, in four weeks to be exact. What’s more scary then being released into the real world, with no guaranteed job prospects, is the idea of actually having a job that requires taking on life altering responsibilities without the safety blanket of someone way smarter then me.

But the idea of being a REAL adult… one who has a career, a house, a home, a family, or a “forever” relationship (maybe even a car, or at least a bus pass) – is straight up effing daunting . Allegedly there’s no time stamp on these things, but when the world around you is walking in the same direction (supposedly I am of “that” age), you can’t help but want to follow along. Plus, secretly behind this computer screen I really am just another human subject to implausible romantic comedies. But luckily, the pull of societal expectations does not supersede my drive to ultimately do “whateva tha hell  I wan'”.

I had wanted to say Happy Chinese New Year, when it actually was the advent of the New Year. Unfortunately at the time I was actually studying (seriously, I am not joking). But hey it paid off cause eventually I ended up with 100% and 94% on my two presentations, and yes I am totally bragging. After all, you are your own biggest fan (besides your mom of course). Anyways, better late then never: Happy Belated Chinese New Year!

So in late celebration, I’m highlighting fashion photog Chen Man. I read an interview/article about her last year, and have liked her ever since. Beijing born and raised, this 28 year old fashion photographer aims to combine traditional chinese culture with modernism in her photos. Using 3D-photo-fixer-upper techniques (i have no idea what this would actually be called), she has created her own style and has been featured in many different fashion mags. And here I am, JUST getting started.

Sigh.

Self portrait

Chen Man self portrait on the Great Wall


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Excerpts from  A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments:

“Am I in love? –yes, since I am waiting. The other one never waits. Sometimes I want to play the part of the one who doesn’t wait; I try to busy myself elsewhere, to arrive late; but I always lose at this game. Whatever I do, I find myself there, with nothing to do, punctual, even ahead of time. The lover’s fatal identity is precisely this: I am the one who waits.”

_______________________

“I look for signs, but of what? What is the object of my reading? Is it: am I loved (am I loved no longer, am I still loved)? Is it my future that I am trying to read, deciphering in what is inscribed the announcement of what will happen to me, according to a method which combines palaeography and manticism? Isn’t it rather, all things considered, that I remain suspended on this question, whose answer I tirelessly seek in the others face: What am I worth?”

― Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse: Fragments

Breathing Class

The other day during my pulmonary rehab rotation, I attended breathing class.

To better understand the relevance, I shall explain.

Pulmonary rehabilitation is usually attended by people who have breathing problems. Most of the time there are issues with the lung, and disease within the airway itself. Basically, the people here can barely walk a few steps without feeling short of breathe and starved for some air. If they’re not already on oxygen (it’s a drug, you know), they’re pretty much heading down that path.

Truthfully, I was slightly nervous because I actually have no idea what goes on in breathing class, and I’m always afraid someone will ask me a question to which I will respond with a wide eyed blank stare. So at 9 am, I walk into breathing class and quickly notice that everyone around me is a legal senior citizen, with the exception of one girl who must have been in her forties. Everyone has oxygen, a cane or some sort of assisted walking device.

Now before I continue, I want to point out that I have a highly competitive nature. Keep this in mind as you judge me. Please.

As class progresses, we learn different breathing techniques, how to cope with attacks of breathlessness, the best way to breathe etcetera etcetera. To be honest, they work us kind of hard: we walk around a bit, stretch, make ourselves short of breath while applying and perfecting our breathing excerises. We even do some tai chi; which, might I add was deliciously free. I mean all and all, as a twenty something, somewhat healthy female whose only real (yet significant) ailment is laziness, even I was tired.

So what do I do? I try to compete against the old people for who can be a better breather. At everything. I try to make my tai chi flowier, I try to walk faster, stretch further.

“Teacher: Breathe in and out, and if you can handle it stand up”

And this, my friends, is where I realize what a competitive loser I am. Why? Because I am obviously the only person standing since clearly I have no lung problems, require no oxygen and can walk freely on my own. In my mind, I think I’m really pushing the limits, when really here I am, trying to outdo these nice old people who just want to breathe. I am such a monster.

But seriously, there are so many things in life taken for granted, and I can definitely say breathing is one of them. It comes so naturally, that the idea of it taken away is so unfathomable, that it’s not even possible. Imagine how dreadful it must be to not be able to walk more then three steps without stopping, or suffocating just to brush your teeth or change your clothes.

Lesson here? Love your lungs. (also, nobody likes a competitive boar)

So, in conclusion of a slightly depressing subject. I will continue the pattern of “insert-here-somewhat-relevant-yet-completely-irrelevant” photos that I like. As we need air to breathe, and the whole jumping in the air photo pose thing is so popular now a days (notice how I cleverly bridged that with an enormous stretch), I’ve decided to post photos from the Fly Series by Melvin Sokolsky who very creatively did the jumping in the air thing way before of his current day counterparts – in 1965.

Harpers Bazaar Spring Collection, 1965.

Harpers Bazaar Spring Collection, 1965.

Harpers Bazaar, Spring Collection, 1965. I particularly like this one because of the models expression, the background and the candid cuddling couple in the corner.

I particularly like this one because of the models expression, the background and the candid cuddling couple in the corner.

Harpers Bazaar Spring Collection, 1965. I just think the model here looks like she's having a blast.

I just think the model here looks like she’s having a blast.

Basically, he made his models jump, took mid air shots and made it look awesome. Since I believe all artists deserve some recognition, I’m going to post a link to his blog for some free time perusing – http://sokolsky.posterous.com.

And then again.

I was told I uploaded duplicates during my previous fanatical Lillian Bassman rant. I remedied the problem, and had intended to replace the two photos with two different ones.

But then I realized I ran the risk of them going completely unnoticed, which would be such a pity.

So I’ve decided to just upload them in a new post. If anything, this helps get me back into a more stable regimen of constant posting.

Translucent Hat, 1950

Translucent Hat, 1950

Blowing a kis, Barbara Mullen, c.1950s

By Night, Shining Wool and Towering Heel. Evelyn Tripp, New York, Harper´s Bazaar, 1954

By Night, Shining Wool and Towering Heel. Evelyn Tripp, New York, Harper´s Bazaar, 1954

More Fashion Mileage Per Dress, Barbara Vaughn, NY, Harper´s Bazaar, 1956

Plus, why bother with a new topic when the old is just so damn good. It’s like they say – if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.

And yes, I am aware that my two photos, actually turned into four. I couldn’t help but overcompensate a bit, that combined with the fact that I couldn’t narrow it down to two; and spending anymore time trying to decide would result in a complex.

Why?

Because I look positively beastly in hats.

The Bird Crap.


I wrote this whole post, with this whole story and all this other crap… but truthfully it sucked.

So, I deleted it.

My absolute crazy favourite fashion photog obsession. I love her. Love her photos. She is a creative genius. Drum roll.

Lillian Bassman.

A little bit of a brief bio (and I mean brief because 1. I need to be up in like five hours and 2. I’m very important you know):

  • Started off as a textile designer, after a bunch of other career flipping landed a job at Harper’s Bazaar and went into creative photography
  • A majority of her photos are from the late 40’s to 50’s, and she would alter her photos in a dark room, bleaching them, blurring them, hand adding stuff here and there.
  • They’re stunning, elegant, and simply classic.
  • Photos regained popularity in the 90’s and she went at it again.

Unfortunately there’s way too many too upload, so I just picked some of the ones that I like to look at over and over. And even that was hard. I hope you enjoy these babies as much as I do.

The HB Look, Harpers Bazaar c. 1955

The HB Look, Harpers Bazaar c. 1955

It’s a Cinch, New York, Harpers Bazaar, 1958

lingerie series, 1951

lingerie series, 1951

Lillian Bassman, 1947

Lillian Bassman, 1947

The dressing room

The dressing room

The Little Furs, Model: Mary Jane Russell in a cape jacket by Ritter Brothers, New York, Harper's Bazaar c. 1950

The Little Furs, Model: Mary Jane Russell in a cape jacket by Ritter Brothers, New York, Harper’s Bazaar c. 1950

The Spotted Furs, Barbara Mullen, NY, Harper's Bazaar, 1954.

The Spotted Furs, Barbara Mullen, NY, Harper’s Bazaar, 1954.

Carmen having tea, c. 1950

Carmen having tea, c. 1950

Evelyn Tripp, 1958

Evelyn Tripp, 1958

The personal touch, Evelyn Tripp, c.1948

The personal touch, Evelyn Tripp, c.1948

Paris Gala Night, Barbara Mullen in a dress by Patou, Harper's Bazaar, 1949

Paris Gala Night, Barbara Mullen in a dress by Patou, Harper’s Bazaar, 1949

Dior Hat on Barbara Mullen, Ritz, Paris, Harper's Bazaar, 1949.

Dior Hat on Barbara Mullen, Ritz, Paris, Harper’s Bazaar, 1949.

The V-Back Evenings, NY, Harper's Bazaar, 1955.

The V-Back Evenings, NY, Harper’s Bazaar, 1955.

Untitled (Model in gloves and pearl earrings), 1950

Untitled (Model in gloves and pearl earrings), 1950

Across the restaurant, 1949

Across the restaurant, 1949

Fantasy on the dance floor

Fantasy on the dance floor

The line lengthens, 1955

The line lengthens, 1955

Barbara Mullen, Paris, Harper's Bazaar, 1949.

Barbara Mullen, Paris, Harper’s Bazaar, 1949.

Model Unknown, Paris, Chanel Advertising Campaign, 1963

Model Unknown, Paris, Chanel Advertising Campaign, 1963

Anneliese Seubert, NY Times Magazine, 1997

Anneliese Seubert, NY Times Magazine, 1997

The Well Dressed Leg, Dorian Leigh, NY HB 1948

 

 

 

 

wedding Lillian Basman(Disclaimer: I think it’s pretty self explanatory (and painstakingly obvious) that I do not own any of these photos. So obvious that even putting this disclaimer is embarrassingly redundant. Rather, I have collected them from various sites when I went on a, and rightfully so, Lillian Bassman rampage.)

Quarter century

True to my word, I am back for my monthly post.

Turns out, today is my birthday. I’m officially 25 (I don’t know why I was surprised, I knew this day was coming, but still… it was a shocker).

Birthdays are so weird to me, because I don’t usually feel any different. But today, I actually do feel older. Maybe it’s because everybody keeps referring to it as my quarter century. Thinking of this way almost makes me feel like I’m quarter of the way to dying or something, since who really lives a full century now a days.

Having a sister 10 years older then me, I’ve always seen 25 (or dare I say it… late 20’s) as something of the far off future. But now I’m here at what seems like lightning speed, and man I really feel like I’m running out of time. Or like I haven’t accomplished or done anything at all except perfect my finely tuned academic facade.

So you know what this means right?

1. Tonight is gonna be quite the party

2. It’s time to see the world

3. Starting tomorrow, I’m going to eat healthy (this is more a goal, but thought I’d throw it out there since I’m on the theme of aging. And let’s face it: with one hip surgery under my belt I’m no spring chicken!)

4. It’s time. To see. The world. So important of a point it gets another mention. Which means it’s time to start planning my next trip.

Me thinks I’m going to asia!

Anyways, happy birthday to all you other late birthday bloomers out there. Trailing behind the age pack sucked when it defined your legal status, but you only turn legal once and everyone else will always be getting older first. So I guess it’s not so bad after all.

Birthday or not, hope everyone has the best day ever… because this is, without a doubt, a special day for someone somewhere. And that in itself warrants a few smiles 🙂

These photos by Luis Monteiro puts me in a colourful birthday mood :)

These photos by Luis Monteiro for Tatler puts me in a colourful birthday mood

If it was warm outside, and I had these balloons.. this is what I'd be doing.

If it was warm outside, and I had these balloons.. this is what I’d be doing.

Takotsubo

Dear world, you know what I’d really like right now? I would really like to sleep.

I have been trying to for the last two hours, and no matter how hard I will my eyes close… I just can’t.

My head hurts, feels like there’s too many things going on right now. Which is crazy.

Cause all I wanna do is dance.

Wait on me: Clara C

Been trying not to be conned
By your sleight of hand
Been trying not to be tricked
By your sleight of hand

But you smile, then you prowl
Then you go for the kill
And you open my eyes
Just to keep me nearsighted
Your waves they are holding
My head by its mouth
Peace flows through my veins
‘Cause I know
I’ll come up for a breath

So wait on me
Wait on me
Wait I’m being tossed to and fro
But I’ll be a polished stone
Gemstone

I, I’ve been broken in
But I sure ain’t been broken down
I, I’ve been broken in
But I sure ain’t been broken down