Rosemary’s Babydoll

by Valerie on Wednesday, June 30, 2010

“This is your pick, right? It’s either going to be a classic or gay.” That’s what Francis said as he peeled open envelopes from our latest Netflix shipments.

“Am I that predictable?” Close enough, the first was Wet Hot American Summer—a cult classic including the gay sex scene that will never again let me revere Bradley Cooper in a devilishly handsome heartthrob sort of light. Instead I will only ever picture him—him, with those piercing blue eyes, that wind-swept dirty blonde hair, my god the titillating five o’clock shadow—taking it IN THE BUTT.

Way to ruin it for a girl.

Spot on, the second was Rosemary’s Baby—a classic horror/thriller/drama. Except it wasn’t all that scary as I anticipated. I kept waiting for goosebumps crawl up my arms like the way it did when Georgie winked through the photograph in It; or the closet scene from The Ring when the school girl is curled up at the corner in a fetal position—nothing could prepare you for an expression of sheer terror like that. But the truth is, although very suspenseful, Rosemary’s Baby wasn’t scary at all. Discounting the idea of having super snoopy next door neighbors, which is pretty alarming in itself.

Instead I found myself distracted by protagonist Rosemary Woodhouse’s wardrobe and styling—teeny trapeze minis, over-sized lapels and collars, dainty pea coats, timeless Ferragamo flats, strappy summer skimmers, and best of all, babydoll silhouettes galore! *Sigh* She had a closet made of dreams.

Images above courtesy of

In one scene, Rosemary arrives home with a fresh pixie cut and asks her husband Guy what he thinks of the iconic new ‘do. Without a doubt, Guy says something along the lines of, oh, idk…it sucks. A familiar reaction. Just then, Francis and I both sneak sideways glances at each other. He must have caught some glare from the light bulb hovering over my head ’cause right away he says, “Nope, don’t even think about it. You promised you’d grow your hair out!” What’s it with dudes and a preference for long hair? This is an argument I can never win because a promise is a promise. Even though I’m terribly tempted to hack it all off with sewing shears in the next room.

braided hair headband – eBay
bow tie – self-made
gold onyx ring – heirloom from Mom
dress – reconstructed vintage

Black and Blue

by Valerie on Thursday, June 24, 2010

photos by Francis

We chased clouds until sunset, but I only managed to capture the sun and it’s hidden up my sleeve.

leopard cardigan – Ross
floral dress – reconstructed secondhand
leather belt – Polo
rock bracelet – gift from Michelle
silver rings – gifts from Loraine
shoes – Keds

Mark as Flagged

by Valerie on Thursday, June 10, 2010

photos by Francis

At the Micronesia Mall movie theaters, the early bird special is the first show of the day. It usually accommodates very little people. The kind of people who prefer to watch a movie in quiet than with a huge crowd. The ones who’d like their pick of the best seats in the house. They’d rather sneak in a footlong Italian BMT with the works on honey oat bread and extra provolone cheese than order a large popcorn at the concession stand. Also, they are willing to wake up 3 hours earlier than usual to save the extra 3 bucks. Hard times, man.

This is what I wore to watch Ironman 2, which wasn’t bad by any means, but wasn’t mind blowing either. The climax might have been seeing Scarlett Johansson in a catsuit. What-a-babe. Robert Downey Jr. is a curious fellow. I think I like him for his character flaws just as much as his razor sharp wit. I guess it’s just a whole lot more interesting to read the stories of people who have colossally screwed up and come back better for it. Rather than the ones who’ve done things right all the time from the start.

neneee carnival dress – (self-made)
neon glitter bracelet – gift from Kristen
classic friendship/beaded bracelets – thrifted
silver studded bangle – self-made
aqua bike shorts – flea market
sequined bowler shoes – wantedshoes

One Small Girl in a Tree

by Valerie on Wednesday, June 9, 2010

On the coffee table, there’s a mountain pile of tissue soaked in green phlegm, 1 Logitech universal remote control, 36 short films amounting to 11 hours on 4 DVDs of Charlie Chaplin’s short films, 1 copy of The Entrepreneur’s Guide to Sewn Product Manufacturing by Kathleen Fasenella, 8 caplets American Fare Cold & Flu medicine (may cause drowsiness), 2 empty wooden coasters, the Maxx Barry novel Syrup, 1 Webster’s New World Pocket dictionary, and a tube of cherry-flavored chapstick. On the couch, there’s me and a black corduroy comforter. Bah, it’s been over a week. What the duck, antibodies?! Get with it!

After we took these photos some few weeks ago, I asked Francis to scrap them because my outfit was sort of plain Jane. Thank goodness he didn’t because today I’m caving to the sound of those awful chirping crickets.

Sometimes I find myself more open to an outfit/collection/artist/opinion/everything if I can see where it’s coming from:

Cover art for the Broadway musical Once on This Island. This also prompted me to blast the original score on repeat for three-days-straight. You should have seen Francis’s head explode. Poor guy.

I’m not quite sure what’s what with teenagers these days—somehow I get the impression it’s gotta involve that Michael Cera dude or forget about it—but back then, professing your love for Broadway musicals was tantamount to committing social suicide. The art kids created visually stimulating drawings. The band geeks made magic brass and string harmonies. And the choir could lull you off to oblivion like Sirens.

But the theater guild (read: drama freaks)—we were like the bottom feeders of the fine arts electives. Not the surgeons saving lives and stuff, just the dentists pulling teeth. The irony was that people I’ve met through theater were always the most genuine and sincere in real life; they were the coolest. Either that or they were really good actors. Which, let’s face it, is not the case particularly with live theater when everything has to be over-exaggerated for the stage.

Reena used to say, “I have no room for drama in my life,” but she lied because our lives revolved around it.

peasant dress & wooden necklace – self-made
beaded bracelet – Gallop USA
silver rings – gifts from Loraine
mint green sandals – Ecote


by Valerie on Friday, May 28, 2010

Photos by Francis

Babysitting duties and a conversation with my boyfriend and niece… babysitting my boyfriend, not my niece, just to clarify.

Francis: You wanna watch Alice in Wonderland?

Kristen: Oh, I watched that! There’s a rabbit with the watch and it’s ticking. Then she falls in the hole and her hair’s upside down…

Francis: I don’t think she’s seen it; it’s not even out yet.

me: She probably saw it in the theaters. Listen, she’s explaining the entire plot.

Kristen: And then she gives the monster back his eye. And the white queen—

me: Play something else. What about The Fantastic Mr. Fox? Have you seen it?

Kristen: Oh, I know that

Francis: Hmmm… I doubt you’ve seen that one, what happens then?

Uhhh, their neighbors are not like, that fantastic.

striped top – Comme des Garcons
necklace – originally Francis’s pocket watch (I used it as a pendant xD)
trousersuit – self-made from men’s trousers
silver rings – gifts from Loraine
socks – eBay
checkerboard shoes – Betsey Johnson

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