I heart Jayne Mansfield

I super do. So much that I dare write two blogs in one evening! I love busty blondes from vintage movies. The trashier, the better. Jayne's great, she's the embodiment of Hollywood Babylon. Hour glass figure, platinum cotton candy hair, sex fiend, SATANIST, B-movie queen and a morbid death. I really couldn't ask much more from a celebrity. Do I even need to mention the fucking Pink Palace? Ahh yes, she's a Goddess of sorts. I have every intention of turning my bathroom into a shrine to her kitschyness .Basically, pink with pictures of her, eventually, that's a long time dream I've had for years. I wish I could have her heart shaped bathtub <3

We recently got the Wild Wild World of Jayne Mansfield I do believe it's on the bill for tonight. Its essentially a mondo film about Mansfield. Pure unbridled exploitation. Muy excited!

Anton Lavey and Jayne, wow.

I really need to see this movie too while I'm at it. I'm kind of obsessed with her exotica hula dance...









Dance right on into my heart, Jayne!

Black as Midnight, Black as Pitch, Blacker than the Foulest Witch

For the past month Venus, my planet, has been in retrograde which as far as I know supposed to make life a little more complicated. I could concur that assertion but I'm I don't necessarily think that's a bad thing. Since last fall, around this time actually, Saturn has been in my chart. For the first time since I was a baby. I noticed a huge astrological impact from Saturn before I even read up on it. Despite Venus representing art and beauty I've found more inspiration during this Saturn period than ever before. All of my classic paintings came from Saturn and all of my complicated jewelry.

I've felt so strange since last month. I assumed it was the move but now I'm thinking that in reality, Saturn is a big part of the reason I made the decision and was able to press forth through the painstaking process. With Venus being out I've felt almost completely ruled by Saturn which I've decided I absolutely love. Some Librans have issues with Saturn but I feel energized by it's strange cosmic energy. My interpretation of certain things are different and I find myself inspired by things I'd never given any thought. This past month having so much Saturn while living in a completely new place has been an adventure. I feel different in Southern California. I realized today that I feel much more at home being near mountains than I ever did being near the beach. Every day on my way to work I drive through a hilly area with an abundance of oriental plants and old buildings, in the distance I have a photographic view of a gorgeous mountain scape. I'm sure it's taken for granted by the locals, the way I grew tired of hearing tourists rave about white sand and sunsets.

As I mentioned, my taste has changed, but not really "changed" it's just become more defined. Lately I've felt very romantic, not just with my husband but also with myself. An abundance of positivity and imagination. I feel my inner craftress coming out. I feel inspired by colors, aromas and simplicity in a completely new way. I've made several jewelry racks recently out of scraps I've found in the back yard. Upon completion I've decided that I despise jewelry boxes. Some are nice decorative items but really, who even came up with the idea of storing your fineries in a dusty old box like they were meant to be hidden. Not only do I feel more inclined to wear them when they're in plain sight but it also seems to brighten the room up quite a bit having reflective metals and crystal prisms catching the light (which is very little since our window is blocked by a big tree).

My latest obsession is Mystic Topaz. Can you think of anything more amazing? A true rainbow crystal. A unicorn's talisman. I never really knew what they were called but every I'd seen one in the past I gasped at it's stunning beauty. I seem to recall the ones I'd seen in the past being somewhat pricey and only now have I been able to put the name to the stone. It is MY stone. My birthstone is opal, which I love, but it's so it's own thing. It's pearlescent and it's also extremely soft. My first engagement ring was an opal by my request and in less than 6 months, wearing it day in/day out, I cracked it opening a box of wine. Can you think of anything more tragic and tacky? It was quickly replaced by a diamond heirloom...but still.  White diamonds may be relatively indestructible but there's no magic there. How could they be? Liz Taylor named her stank ass old lady perfume after them. ANYWAY... the mystic topaz is like the opal of the crystal world. I realized that I don't have many nice rings. Mostly costume jewelry and a few nice gifts from my mom. But I don't recall ever buying a nice ring for myself. So I just got over it and bought myself this...

..oh mah gawsh..

Is it not superb? It's a little big. About half a size up from my ring finger but coming in right under two inches it's probably meant for my middle finger. This ring will complete my journey of becoming Queen of the Unicorn Wizards.

But back to stinky perfume. I can't standz nastay cheap stuff. As I've mentioned before, I'm a connoisseur of fine colognes. I usually gravitate towards light florals with subtle hints of vanilla and citrus. Lately, with this change of cosmic energy I've been wanting something different so I decided to finally order some things from For Strange Women on Etsy. Since her fine oils and solid perfumes are somewhat pricey (although I'm sure totally worth it) I decided to start with some samples to get a feel for what I can and can't live without. So I ordered the following...

Mix and Match three samples. I chose:

*Winter Kitty
*Moss and Ivy
*Astral Projection

I greatly anticipate trying these lovely handmade oils. Better yet, I ordered a sample of a solid perfume that sounded so lovely from the description, how could I resist?? Antique Settee...

"This blend reveals the past with hints of roses, violets, and everlastings lingering on velvet upholstery from perfumed guests that have come and gone. Freshly polished wood trim is woven throughout, finished with a deep base of Earl Grey tea (spilled on the cushions over the years). The essence of black tea leaves soaked in bergamot improves with age while lending a comforting character. This aromatic interpretation offers you the opportunity to embody this classic heirloom’s history."

Oh.My....must have. I got a "pine cone" lip balm as well. Which leads to to my current favorite lip wear.

Lately I've been wearing this black YSL lip gloss. It is BLACK. But don't fret, I don't wear it like that. Just a little bit goes a long way. Blended evenly it casts a smokey shadow on my lips that I love. With a layer of translucent purple Anna Sui lipstick is absolutely gorgeous. Just thought I'd mention it...

I'm not sure what the story is here but I can't help but be a little worried by it.

I was just informed that Rasputina put out a new album a few months ago. Where the heck have I been? This discovery couldn't have come at a better time.

Until next time my Unicorn Minions...

Invoking the Spirit

A while back I mentioned the possibility of reviewing movies I feel aren't Atomic Caravan worthy on this blog. It's hard to explain what exactly a movie like that entails since I obviously have no problem reviewing complete garbage but today I think I'm going to explore one such film. The epic, the life changing, The Craft.

Ok, so it's 1996, I'm 10 years old. It's been a good decade for teen movies which isn't helping to prevent my wanting to grow up too fast. I remember wanting to see this in the theater SO bad! My mom, being the concerned parent of a pre-teen wouldn't let me. Hummph. Thankfully, around the time of it's video release, I was now 11 and she herself had become curious about it so she decided to let me see it. How can I describe how this movie effected that small, under developed version of me? In a way it validated Mom's reason for originally not wanting me to see it. I had no interest in Robin Tunney's boring good witchery. I was all about some Fairuza. I wanted to BE her! I had just begun wearing make-up and made sure I applied far too much black eyeliner any chance I could get away with it. The clothes in that movie really effected my taste, even still today. White button up shirts with long tapered collars, black vests or suspenders and of course the signature plaid skirt with knee to thigh-high stockings. I remember thinking Nancy's cross earrings were so cool. I still have the onyx and marcasite cross necklace I bought a few years later which I viewed as the "perfect Craft inspired cross necklace".

Years passed, I had my fair share of slumber parties featuring "light as a feather, stiff as a board", at least three gothic phases between middle school and early college and still to this day endless quoting and fond memories of watching it with friends. It's not even a movie I'd say I'm proud to be a fan of, it's beyond that. Like many girls (and some very special boyz) my age, it's just apart of us! Anyway, this isn't exactly a review. I just had my annual viewing so I thought I'd emblazon my undying love for this movie on my public blog. I watched it with some first-timers, both were somewhat freaked out by it. Or taken aback at least, which completely confused me. COMPLETELY. Maybe I'm desensitized but the Craft, to me, is a semi-juvenile fashion oriented fun fest. Forget that whole suicide and murder sub-plot. There's ... um ... magic and cool clothes. Whaddya' want??? Besides, I can't take any movie seriously with Jewel on the soundtrack. C'mon!

"HE'S-SAWRY-HE'S-SAWRY-HE'S-SAWRY-SAWRY-MY-ASSSSSS!!!"

Hortense the Horrible Hag

When I was in third grade I had this awful teacher who I'm pretty sure was a witch. She was old, ugly and evil. She was the kind of mean spiteful teacher that you see in Roald Dahl story. Think Miss Trunchbull from Matilda. No, she never put me in the Chokey, but she made my entire third grade year feel like a Chokey. She even had a Roald Dahl villain name, Hortense Hair. Perhaps being given a name like that is apart of the reason why she turned out to be such a terrible teacher. I imagine she had a favorite student to pick on every year but in 1994/1995, I was her target. Other students noticed and made comments to me privately about how they also weren't sure why she treated me differently, but they dare not have spoken out about it. She had a general meanness that no kid wanted to aggravate.

Last night I went to a local arcade that's been around since the late 70's called Funland with my Mom and two little cousins. It's known for being covered wall to wall with loud neon clown imagery. Being there reminded me of a Hortense the Horrible Hag story, which inevitably leads to me reminisce about all of them. Being a 10 year old mortal enemies with a 70 year woman should be a thing of fairy tales not a daily routine that will haunt the child well into her 20's. One day we had an assignment that I guess I misunderstood. It was writing project about a clown. I can't remember his name, but let's call him "Jacko". There was a list of words and were supposed to write a short story using those words. I was under the impression that "Jacko" was an example and that we were supposed to write our own original story. So I wrote about a subject I always like, GIRL clowns, which there aren't enough of. I always thought that women seem less menacing and fewer people would be scared of lady clowns so why is it so rare you see them? I was still at an age where I loved clowns so it seemed like an appropriate subject. I wrote a story about Sassy the Clown, because she was Sassay. She had unicorns, living teddy bears, hot pink yarn hair and was always on the outs with the boy clowns. Well, I was wrong about the project. Everyone else wrote about "Jacko", and rather than just taking points of or GOD FORBID letting it slide since I still used all of the same words in my (much more imaginative) story. She proceeded to scowl at me while reading it allowed to the entire class making a point to repeatedly say that the person *shifts crooked eyes at me* who wrote this obviously doesn't know how to follow directions, before inevitably drawing a big red 0 on it. I believe that was the day I asked her after school why she hated me, she kept her eyes down at her desk and brushed off my question with an "I don't know what you're talking about". Like that's a proper way to respond to a question like that anyway.

Perhaps this should be a story for my private journal but I felt like sharing it here since it's about witches and clowns. I've built the life I live around imagination. Those aspects of my personality which were still in early stages of development were under attack. Maybe I had my head in the clouds, but why shouldn't I have? Your 10 year old school career shouldn't play out like a rigid boot camp. And your teacher shouldn't act like the fucking Gestapo. My interests at the time included India, the vintage stuffed animal collection I had just started, building forts, pretending to be a princess, writing in my diary and drawing mermaids. Having a personality was strictly verboten. I was a burdenless kid and I felt like she wanted to tear that down. I suppose she failed, though she left me with a lot to think about. Mostly about what I hoped to never be.

Thinking about all of this reminded me another Hortense Hair story that makes me smile. It was around Halloween and we were given a worksheet with a witch on it. And wouldn't you know, the witch was named "Hortense the Horrible Hag"! I was one of the few students who knew her first name because my Mom had to call her to bitch her out so many times. After she gave the instructions she asked if anyone had any questions. Not even knowing what I was going to say, I raised my hand as knee jerk reaction. She glared at me with the wrath of Satan himself, scrunched up her shriveled lips and shook her head "NO!". She knew exactly what I was thinking. Perhaps this is why she hated me? Maybe I was the only one who knew she was a witch.

Things that come up when you google image search for "Hortense Hair"....

wtf?

And BEST of all....

This looks JUST like her. Amazing.

So how did it end? She was old and died of natural causes a few years later. I wasn't really effected by that obituary. I was glad she didn't have some terrible ailment but there was a strange sense of relief that she wouldn't be around to torment anymore children. Is that wrong? How do you mourn the Hitler of elementary school teachers?

I grew up and managed to forget everything I learned in that class except a few lessons of morality based on the strange isolation and punishment I had to endure. It's amazing how a a great teacher can effect you in wonderful ways. You remember their warmth and take it with you. A bad teacher leaves you with an antipathy that you won't forget. People like that are the example of what I know will never be so in that respect Hortense Hair served her purpose in my life and can now be filed back away in my memory bank along with Sassy the Clown.