DAZED #3 AND SLUT FEVER

GETTING DUMPED ...AND MOVING ON

Since my last post i've had Slut Fever. Blame the maid from my last post?

 For Example, going to the DAZED Pandamonium Party last Friday with gaffa tape 4 nipples then opening my top at every stranger camera opportunity like a sexually evangelist swan of the disco lake.
See below.

Its the photo which makes me think I am I finally over break up blues. They always take painfully ages, and however many times you try and flush your ego down the toilet the flavour stays in your mouth. No matter how many “I know its for the best deep in my heart” moments, your stuck in the house of Ego Deflato Hell.

Seven months ago my boyfriend of five years dumped me. Via email. I’m not really sure why. Probably to become gay. Who knows? But I can honestly say that I’ve handled this break-up with the least amount of dignity and grace that I possible could. Yup, I’ve taken every available opportunity to continually embarrass and shame myself, never turning down the chance to look like a total psychopath madwoman from break-up hell. In hindsight, some of the things I did were probably a bad idea. Actually, “bad idea” doesn’t even do them justice. But being the nice and thoughtful person that I am, I’ve made a list of some of my regrettable actions, just incase you ever find yourself in my dumped position and want to know what to avoid avoid AVIOD!~

Wicca
For some reason, weird, annoying fat-girl witchcraft seems like an appropriate thing to get into after you’ve been dumped. Well, it did for me anyway. I tried it all—rocking the blackish lipstick, making voodoo dolls of my ex and then cutting off their little voodoo penises, holding weird, masturbation rituals with the purpose of making my ex fall back in love with me. Nothing worked. Not to mention I wasted the first two months of our break-up (AKA prime rebound-fuck time) looking like a loser high school emo gangster with an unhealthy obsession with ADIDAS. 

Shameless Begging
I have no shame. Because of this, after the break up up with me I had no qualms about texts, emails and every other form of social hacking, whilst involving as many people as I possibly could.
He normally just slammed the interweb door in my face (Apparently desperation isn’t sexy- whatever), but this didn’t discourage me. At one point I actually announced, “I’m PREGNANT YOU FUCK.” **Despair.

False Pregnancy

This is just a bad idea all around. Did texting the ex up at random and cheerfully stating, “Hey! I’m pregnant! Is it cool with you if I name our first born child Mötley Crüe?” get me some of the much needed attention I so desperately desired? No.

Break-up Sex

In my deluded head, break-up sex seemed like a free ticket to an alternate sex universe where all the horrible, disgusting, filthy sex moves I was too scared to pull during our relationship were now totally up for grabs. And realistically, I was sort of right. However, if at all possible, you should try to refrain from break-up sex. You end up getting back together, and then you have to break up again. And suddenly, without realizing it, your in the “pretend break up sex area”, which sucks even more.

Getting Crushes on High Profile Celebrities in London

We live with Celebrities. It's London.  Get a crush on one and its bound to send you bonkers, send you friends bonkers,  and set a new wave of internet staIking to a crashing new scale of +1000ILOVEYOU. The internet is bonkers forever and so are you . This kinda suckle lover love is super convienent and weeeeeeee -  you're off! 

Everything's suddenly sorted because you have a new lover, totally accessible through the internet. You  develop your own GPS of there whereabouts habits (what a coincidence THERE HE IS RIGHT NOW) and most importantly, no ones queationing your actions, least of all your new lover. 

Sounds fun? Yes. 

Good thing to do? No. 

Picking a complete stranger who is super famous, falling in love with him and making him the soul goal of my entire life seemed cool or edgy or whatever. He's hot, I'm hot, he's been checking me out, lets get it on etc... A distraction and a constant planation. If your lucky (like me), you will break into his party, and he will break you toe. Which is cool, because I LOVE HIM.... But then you think you're lucky when you bump into them in a convienience store where instead of you getting the attention you deserve(i.e. riding of into the sunset), they are as rude as a pig. 

In the end, its not really a celebrity crush, its pretend sleeping with an internet stranger, and it's not a good look. 
Alas, I love you, but I will never have you.

Don’t Force it.
Love is bullshit and these things take time. Letting your friends drag you out and trying to force you to “get laid and move on”, is a petty ego mistake made by us all. Actually, makes you feel or the more worthless, whether you come home empty handed or not. Having someone whisper, 

“ You have to meet him. He’s kinda perf. For you. He seems almost 100 % crazy, and he dresses like a mix between Prince, a personal style blogger, and an outdated gay sterotype” does NOT help.  

Whatever. Love is bullshit anyways.
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SPIDER CHAVS + MORE

SORRY I HAVENT POSTED for a while.

Has it been a while?

TA-DA!~! im back!!!

So many things have been happening actually. 

KMOSSED catches up with Spider Chavs, Frieze, Hunger Mag and the Dazed awards before getting busted by Mr Brainwash, and the whole entire time (a week) I haven't had internet! OUCHHHHH!!!!

So….there was Frieze. Anneliis Beadnell from P·P·O·W gallery NYC flew over to install  "Infinity Kisses" for Moving Image at the Bargehouse and I helped out. Haven't seen her since we both worked at Jack the Pelican Gallery in NYC 4 years ago so big catchups, liquor and hugs for everybody.

I didn’t actually make it to the Frieze Art Fair in Regents Park, however 4 of my best mates went and called it bland. The art I mean. What was NOT bland at all was the amount of plastic surgery and million dollar stretched to art oblivion smiles that froze out the entire fair. FRIEZE! 

Hung out with the Spider Chavs Friday night. 
Business as usual. 

 This time in honour of the Pussy Riots.

""Note- Flying Red Hat in background!""

Sighted them the next day outside  the Dazed Office on Old Street.

Snapped some more pics on further down Old Street. 10/10 Spider Chavs!!

Went to The Hunger Launch at RANKIN last Tuesday. The usual, manic, fun, free, everyone’s good looking and kinda blends into one big European drumstick.

My good looking friends @*HUNGER *Emmet Green, Alex Moon-Age and Louie Banks +2 *LOVE*

 So its the night after HUNGER, our internet is still on holidays (as our neighbours internet also). HMMM, what to do?!? Smoke a cigarette and pull out the magazine.  A Magarette.

Open to the page on artist computer geek CORY ARCANGEL. Can you imagine my luck? Its about art and the internet. THE INTERNET!!! Im sucked in straight away.

Cory is really cool. He hacks computer games in the name of art. Hes been shown at the Whitney, the Tate, MoMA and Neue. He talks about how social networks these days are like wearing teeshirts ten years ago, identification, advertising and publishing. He’s even got a blog “Sorry I haven’t posted”, which collects blog posts from around the world which begin with those very words. 

Interesting that self-publishing has bought out all this guilt.

“And its funny: to communicate the idea that you’re not communicating is that great paradox of non information.”

Other cool bit in conversation is how the presence of the web has changed art, and the global culture it has created. And how funny it is that the entire world loves watching cats on film (thanks You Tube - too true!)

“Why is it that cats unite the world in this way? And a lot of the time, you can’t even tell where the video is from, if the people didn’t put any identification in the text.

Its an anonymous bit of culture.”

Incidently, 10 years ago, in 2003, Cory sent his work to one of my best friends Thea Baumann, for an exhibition called Fragged in New Castle, Australia.

She was doing internet curation, and he was one of the first budding wave of artists reflecting on games culture in the internet world. She showed his work Super Mario Clouds, Super Mario Rave (dreaming of raving) and I Shot Andy Warhol, Nintendo Entertainment hacks (NES).

Cool huh! Now he's super duper famous!

Went to the Dazed G-Shock awards last night and have absolutely nothing to say about that, except that Holly and I lent against a wall which was actually fake (or maybe just for watches), and got busted by Mr Brainwash, from the Banksy Film, 'Exit Through the Gift Shop'  AND this absolutely beautiful creature with her KTZ purse and matching nails.

*

London Fashion Week ss13

JUST ANOTHER

FASHION WEEK

Highlights ARE styling at the PRIMAL SCREAM gig, working alongside and wearing Jordan Askill in the Rock Vault, dressing backstage at KTZ, Holly-Anne's handbag, breaking my heel at the AnOther party and sleeping the night (an entire 3 hours) in a Belgravian mansion after I kissed the wrong person goodnight.
DAY 1 is the eve before FW and the Primal Scream gig in the spirit of Ray Ban's 75 years hosted by DAZED. Styling job with friend and UBER Stylist Alexandra Moon-Age and we've teamed up with a Black Cab Photobooth!! 

If you came you might have seen a Black Cab out front.

And if you did, you might have found yourself in the back seat sporting a killer outfit (styled by Alex and I) cast with trademark RayBans. 

In which case you were probably immortalized in a photograph. Or four.   

Sunglasses at night anyone? 

Just in case it's still not ringing any bells, here's the link!

https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151191522899406.463193.81958664405&type=1

Into the gig I go! The collaboration of Primal Scream and Sonic Youths Kim Gordon was mindblowing. It blew my mind back to being 15, under the covers cracking jokes; that time when you fall in love with your eyes closed and nothing is ever too loud. Which is the way it should be.

Day 2.KTZ Show @ Somerset house and im hungover. Me and the Holly Trap are dedicated dressers of tonights show! 2.5 champagne trips and finally there is mayhem backstage, the heels are 2 small and Elena, our little russian model, is not impressed. Im not either and nor is Holly. I've still got Primal scream blasting in my ears and Holly has a new hangbag. Which she made herself.

Holly Anne's Handbag X Collagism X

 NO PHOTOS ALLOWED.

On stage,the show itself was dark and heavily textiled. With lace up shorts, thigh high boots, alien-esque body suits and otherwise otherworldly street wear pieces like cut-out bike shorts and patent leather baseball caps gave this Art Nouveau-inspired collection that little extra kick.

 The Accessories. Outstanding and Unexpected. Armour baby armour. Couture glam with sharp claws, shapes and silhouettes, pearlescent tones against harsh blacks shiny like gothic presents, the attention to detail creating the sense of a second skin.

CLAWS

OUR ELENA

Backstage, We munched on quarter model sandwiches, which were actually quite yummy and calorie packed. 
Which is why there were so many left over.

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J·O·R·D·A·N  A·S·K·I·L·L
"My natural instinct is to create objects that are my way of translating what I see in the world"

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Jordys work, like love, transcends the every day world.

 Preciousness. Fragility. Strength. Its SS13.

  

The Power of Flight. The beauty and freedom of avian creatures, the swallow and the macaw.

"the swallow. an icon in literature and poetry, in Oscar Wilde's Happy Prince. Poetry is the big wings that once landed- cant take off.
I find that so poetic."

"That whole thing of how a stone might have once been owned by Spanish princes, but then become a gift for Elizabeth Taylor."

  But mostly its about love. falling in love, long lasting love. 

And the best love story is just two love birds in a cage.

MY GIFT FROM JORDY *LOVE*
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The Party.

Annabels - the Mayfair haunt so upmarket that it's the only nightclub ever visited by the Queen,  - usually a place where you cant where anything (but you cant be naked either.)

The usually dignified members only institution - NO tits/legs/leggings/runners strict fabric policy/was now adored with the unseamed confidence of jeans, leathers, skin and sweat.

BOY GEORGE!!!!

Ben and I sipped our vodka cocktails and played the "What Annabels is wearing tonight game." Ben kept pointing to jeans. I won after spotting a pair of Nikes.

No - actually I won twice when, on my way up the stairs to heaven (the smoking section), my heel snapped! Death on the stairs becomes her.

....I've come along way since last year. This time I was actually on the list, I didn’t need a bunch of Italians in Paris to break in and then get my toe stepped on (and broken) by the host himself. 

No, this wasn’t a “you break into my party i'll break your toe kinda atmosphere”. 
It was "heel n toe heel n toe they will party lalala - clearly.".

Incidentely, I ended up staying in Belgravia that night, somehow my heel ended up in Edinburgh, now it's being sent in the post.

JUST

FASHION WEEK

what can i say, Carey M is the heel to maaaa shoe.

··············Laterz···············