BETTINA, UNLEASHED

Bettina comes in through the window, her body crumpling briefly into a fetal bundle as she makes her passage through the portal. Alighting on the sill, Bettina rests on her haunches, surveying the space before her. There she finds paint and a fan and an electric guitar. First, she stands before the fan, basking in the artificial breeze. Immersed in the fantasy of a steady wind, she reaches for the paint. She slathers sky blue on her eyelids. Looking a bit gaunt under the influence of the bright blue, she reaches for the cherry red and traces over her lips again and again until the surface of her painted lips begins to protrude, millimeters thick. Her lips are tacky and heavy with paint. Her arm, slender and serpentine, stretches for the electric guitar. She spreads her legs and bends her knees, sinking into a powerful, stabilizing squat. She holds the guitar against her and as it slips down her thigh the guitar pulls her lower. She is curled protectively over the thing and with a blissful, crooked smile Bettina plucks out a tinkling melody. The music stays close to her body and dissipates before it can reach the opposite end of the room. In spite of their faintness, Bettina continues her strokes. 

80s MAMA

 

Dressing is a daily pain or pleasure, depending on where I'm going and how much time and energy I have to spend thoughtfully putting an outfit together. Under this project, however, living and form have to swim in the same waters, allowing dressing to feel like an art when I want it to, and allow art to be dressing when I'm feeling inclined. I've found this approach to be exciting, and I think it will ultimately be productive in my effort to push myself farther and farther outside a daily norm. I've been inspired a lot by drag, and as a personal goal I am working to dress more inventively and more artfully. I am excited because I really like my direction as of late, but I also know that there's so much room for me to grow. I'm excited to push against the boundary of normal and see where I end up. 

I bought makeup for the first time in a while with the intent of adding to a collection of materials. This is indicative of how I've been approaching my wardrobe and the idea of dressing lately: more like my craft and less like a quotidian diversion. This changes the way I approach acquiring both makeup and clothes. Instead of buying for pleasure, catharsis, or any other reason we consume, I've begun thinking of my purchases as adding to my cache of potential materials. 

This is the first of the outfits that saw no one. 

ANGELLIC

When I was nine my grandmother taught me to brush my hair as she had learned to do. I was to stand with my head hung to my knees, with my hair flipped over the back of my head, and I was to brush my hair in steady strokes. I returned to an upright position, my hair would cloud my vision with its new buoyancy. Consequently, I never brushed my hair like this, nor do I frequently brush my hair at all due to similarly flouncy results no matter which technique I use. Today, I flipped my hair à la grandmère. I'm feeling very Pre-Raphaelite and hope you are, too. It's a wonderful, romantic way to be.