“Bite” Inspired Makeup Look

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So you know how you get bored and have random makeovers/photoshoots?

Sure you do. Or if you really don’t, try living alone in rural Japan for over a year. You take up a shitload of hobbies.

This little endeavor exercised like three of my hobbies/interests – fashion, makeup, photography. Note that I’m still learning/experimenting with all of them.

In this case: baby plays with aperture for the first time. Gives a nice 90s, polaroid look to my despicably unaesthetic apartment.

Nothing can be done for that horrific couch, though.

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Shit, did I say three interests? I meant four: music plays a role in this as well.

I’d been meaning to do a look based on Troye Sivan’s “Bite” for a minute (is it not the sexiest fucking song ever?) and finally threw this together with additional inspiration from Glam&Gore‘s pointed lip look (video linked at the bottom).

The song has a sort of funhouse-y feel to it, so the look’s a little clownish and…well, the word “unsettling” comes to mind. Off-putting. Pierrette meets vamp.
Still, personally I would totally wear this kinda look out. Stranger things have happened.

Couldn’t resist including the “sex” industrial.

Also btw (bonus points for continuity) I used the Dutch Braid Pigtails from my last tutorial, this time binding the braids off at the nape.

bite makeup 1bite makeup 2

 

Makeup-wise, I used an Urban Decay Book of Shadows palette for the eyes, some crazy Japanese drugstore liquid liner, an Anastasia Brow Powder Duo, and…well, believe it or not Mac’s Matte Royale for the lips…

They’re blue, okay, just…purple in the pictures. (Hi aperture I still don’t really know what you do or if this is even your fault.) And for lack of black lipstick/paints I just made due with different eyeliners for the pointed lip. Not ideal, but it worked fine for a random weekday night photo-op.

The lashes were my first foray into Dolly Wink products…and holy shit they are incredible. The glue that came with them doesn’t dry totally clear though, so no bonus points there.

The dress (yes the same one from my first Halloween post ages ago) I got at a thrift store in Japan, and the jewelry is all random crap from the fabled 400 Yen store (RIP T_T) and shops in Shibuya. The gloves, laughably, I believe are from Claire’s from like…how old am I?…10 years ago Jesus.

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This is what happens when I try to stay in on a Friday and be responsible. I still end up caking myself in makeup and wasting time.

I’m an adult.

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2015 Playlist

In the absence of hard drive space (and a functioning computer) I spent far too much of the past year listening to the same music I’ve had for ages. That’s not to say that it’s bad music of course – just that I’ve exhausted it all through years of excessive love and repetition. Not to mention that ever since I got drunk in Okinawa and lost my iPod a few years ago (oops) I’ve been stuck using my phone as my only portable audio device. Whatever I can fit into its 2 KB of memory is what I have to work with.

In the last few weeks of 2015 I grew thoroughly sick of everything I had on my iPhone. No one artist or album or playlist could work its usual magic and keep me sane or motivated. I had resorted to shuffling through the comprehensive song list, which served as both a refreshing reminder of how much I love this music, as well as a catalyst for a massive flashback.

The few thousand songs on my phone constitute old favorites I can never go without as well as some of my more recent acquisitions (not new songs necessarily, but new to my collection). Some of them are insanely nostalgic; others inextricably remind me of times or places – or people, for better or worse. For the sake of posterity, here is a rough playlist of my 2015.


January

2015 rolled around to some old tunes, mostly Hole and Bikini Kill. (If my first post on this blog is any indicator, the end of 2014 + beginning of the new year had a lot of Bikini Kill.) My magnificent friend Cat came to visit me in Japan and brought with her a dose of college nostalgia. I was blasting 90s grunge all month like I was in my dorm room again.

February

Sometimes I download music just because Noel Fielding tells me to. The Kills gratefully fell into that category, but despite owning all their music since college I never had the patience to fully explore them until this year. I hesitate to admit that it might have been “Gossip Girl” that steered me in their direction anew…Hey, the show had good music, okay?

March

By March I had been in Japan for about half a year and was beset with as much culture fatigue as could be expected. Grasping at straws for entertainment – and, it has to be said, redemption, after a bad breakup – I found myself a new, fun “romance” in which to entangle myself. Naturally it was all a huge mess, but before everything blew up it allowed me a degree of vindication, which paired magnificently with The Zolas’ music.

I’m not even ashamed to admit that I first heard them in season 2 of “Hemlock Grove.” Season 2 was good, okay – and the music even better. What an anti-breakup song.

Unfortunately, with the dissolution (which was not unfortunate) of my weird pseudo-courtship, I couldn’t listen to this band for quite a while. I think I’m most bitter about that over all the other drama. Ruin “Cultured Man” for me? Fuck off.

I’ve gotten it back though. Finally.

Continue reading “2015 Playlist”

Death of a Rebel

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I will never know what it was like to lose Bowie as a husband or a father or even as a friend, yet here I am, one of the many thousands of people who loved but never knew him, distinctly poisoned by loss.

“Along with anyone who’s been awake during the last 45 years,” as my dad puts it. As for why, I think Amanda Palmer says it best:

 

A hole has been cut in the universe. The Earth’s energy is off-balance, as if some critical element has been removed. A man who as much proclaimed himself inhuman is dead, ultimately mortal, like the rest of us.

In creation myths gods may die, leaving in their wake a sense of devastation and loss. The world that they created and governed somehow goes on.

Music lost a god this week, as did fashion, eccentricity. A figurehead of rock ‘n’ roll and weirdness.

Often in these myths the death of a god entails some second coming.

I don’t expect we’ll have another Bowie, in my lifetime, if ever.

It’s not like me to soliloquize like this – much less to make public what are essentially irrelevant personal thoughts. I like to tell myself to save my breath, keep my feelings private, and ultimately squash them entirely. I like to moderate how I’m perceived for what I think or how I feel.

This is, therefore, an exercise in what Bowie stands for to me, more than his musical presence: self expression. Standing before whomever comes your way, unapologetic for what you are.

However undeniably sappy – and some might say unwarranted – this post may be, I get to express it. It’s how I feel. Thousands of people feel Bowie’s death, some much more than I, and plenty have been vocal about it. Even though I didn’t know him, never met him, wasn’t alive when he started changing music, I feel his passing, and I’m adding my voice to the thousands of others. It changes nothing. It harms no one. It’s an exercise in futility – but in expression, and if Bowie exemplified anything it’s that expression can be powerful, magnificent, ethereal.

There is a hole in my universe.

My world goes on – with the memory of a King and his influences in stone.

You will be missed, Bowie. May I hope to live half as unabashedly and authentically as you.