1. S(w)ing when you’re winning is what Robbie Williams used to say in his songs circa 1999. Life is a game. You win some, you lose some, they say, and for that matter, most of losses are wins too.
2. The writer’s condition is inextricable. You want to be published, you long to touch someone, to deliver your allegiance of fate to whomever is out there. Then, when the show is done, you realize nothing can save you, not even writing. Sorry Buk.
3. Being honest, and honest as an artist can bring you a lot of trouble. Like alienating friends, pushing people away, giving way to a lot of paranoia. Something you’ve written can turn tables every moment of your life because today’s general perception is so much oriented towards the author’s own life and its translation in art through writing, and not towards the manuscript. I see this all the time. I’m not gonna say – okay, I can write anything, don’t take me so serious ’cause it’s not real. It’s fucking real, but once reality took its toll, it’s just a good or bad piece of writing. Meant for people to read and connect with it. Made for others to criticize or enjoy. And people who truly know you should never be affected by what we still call today postmodern fiction.
4. Any torture chamber is better than the chamber of your own mind.
5. Remember, every woman dressed as a playboy bunny or a sexy nurse once dreamed of being a Disney princess.
6. If you have a hard time letting go of a painful moment in your life, pour yourself a class of champagne and sort it out with your own mind. Or just engage yourself in Cheekybingo.com fun. And win.
this is my tumblr. use it wisely.
I saw this trend on Facebook and blogs where people in the creative industry make tops and lists of their achievements at the end of the year. I was
lazy busy enough to skip that in December but then I thought any time is a good time to brag in public count your blessings rather than no time.
Before I get this started I want to explain myself a bit, because in 2012 this blog has taken multiple directions and for a long time it was actually hard to focus on only one or two of them. Which isn’t half bad, when it gives you the chance to discover hidden places of your personality and deep ends of your possibilities.
Ruffles for Breakfast began in 2010 as my style diary. I would post outfits friends photographed me in in the city and post them here. I have to tell you it was boring as hell. So I changed turns and put a bit of life into this spiritless website by adding sketches and short notes from the novel(s) I was working at to the pictures, now themed.
This got me much more readers than fashion pictures ever did, and I was happy to see what a deal breaker writing is. I met many people through the blog. I got encouraged to write even when I had a shitty 1 year time of writer’s block.
In the beggining of 2012 I styled the first editorial for a local brand, ZAZA Boutique. Collaborations with LaChatterie, BIPOLAR, Alina Ene and Coolta, Macramoi and other brands followed.
I basically tried to use the blog as a platform for aiding uprising young brands in fashion to get promoted.
This short campaign for SUBSET t-shirts is one of my dearest projects in 2012, because it speaks truly and authentically about the nature of things we love. It was also my first attempt to make a short movie. I still need to really learn Premiere pro.
Alexandra Diaconu and I did a couple of shoots for the pretty clothes at IDELIER. And there’s more where that came from, just wait for the surprise to land.
I was asked to write a column for the ALL HOLLOW blog. Seasoned with pictures of me. It had my name on it, which was fancy, but not motivating enough because as 2012 was reaching a start I realized I want to stop with the modelling and use any experience I gained in becoming a fashion stylist. And I did, and it’s the most challenging and practical experience I’ve had since I started to properly work in publishing and online. Ruffles for Breakfast will keep all the prose fragments but the fashion posts will be replaced in 2013 by editorial work.
I ended the year at the DALLES GO Styling classes with Ovidiu Buta and a bunch of wonderful people I am really glad to have met. My colleagues are now chilling via Berlin Fashion Week while I am home writing this from the comfort of my bed. I raise my glass!
Since the 4th of January I’ve been getting busy with things of all sorts and got in that strange mood where a tiny time off leaves you feeling weird because you have FINALLY nothing to do. I think that’s happening when you’re a workaholic, no? I hope not.
As for me, myself and the other people who live in my brain, 2012 was an awfully changing year. 90% of my friends left the country to greener pastures. I miss them a lot, flights are expensive and that’s all I have to say about that. Places and people changed around and even if this was a HARDER year compared to 2011 (I hear this a lot and I actually think it was the shittiest year in the history of mankind from oh so many points of view), I was grateful to rediscover flowers where dust laid on. I saw some of the best concerts in my life and traveled, and wrote new pieces of a novel, and met miraculous people, and loved.
For 2013, I have made up a list of resolutions in my head starting with last year, but for now I’d rather keep it in the privacy of my mind and add up various things on it as time goes by.
I can say however that I hope to eat a lot of avocados with butter and pepper, apple tart, fish, ice cream and pasta, because food is AMAZING and I am a gourmand and the simple thought of feasting on a plate of anchovies with champagne makes my mouth watery.
I also hope to learn how to ride a horse, because in a dream world, people would take horses to the club at night instead of cabs (like Bianca Jagger) and stroll on them to work (I REALLY ENVY THE POLICE PATROLS IN BUCHAREST); ride a bike and play tennis because it’s the only sport I would do without being bored.
I wish to read more books and see more films and get the chance to leave the country or the city more often so I can gather inspiration to turn into more captivating visual stories for you to see (and for potential magazines, you hear that, ALL HOLLOW, ELLE, HARPER’s BAZAAR, COCKAIGNE to hire me).
I wish you all a lightweight year and a lot of beauty of sorts to hang on to.
PHOTO ALEXANDRA VACAROIU @ IDELIER
Am retrăit, pe repede-înainte, toți ultimii trei ani pe care mi-i amintesc. Mi-am crescut și mi-am colorat unghiile și părul după asemănarea celor de atunci. Am făcut și am simțit lucruri atât de asemănătoare că m-a înțepat rutina sub coaste. Am învățat pe de rost circuitul oamenilor în viețile noastre și mi-am amintit de Ioana Nemeș și de ale ei povești pe care lumea le repetă de când pământul ca pe anotimpuri, fără ca noi să putem face, cu adevărat, prea multe în privința asta. Aș vrea tare mult să îmi tai părul și să arăt iarăși ca un băiat de 17 ani, dar n-aș face decât să sădesc semințe suficiente pentru încă trei ani de repetiție. Aș putea să dansez cu și mai multe fete cu care am împărțit, fără să vreau, farfurii, furculițe, săpunuri, șervete de bucătărie și locul din dreapta al saltelei, dar asta nu mi-ar dezlipi etichetele de fostă cea mai bună prietenă.
Când am mers pe podul Basarab aveam Little Black Submarines în urechi și șoferul băgase cea mai oportună viteză, de-mi fluturau aproape urechile.
Jumătate de raft de măști de păr pe care le țin în baie îmi aduc aminte de momentele în care am dat bani pe produse scumpe ca să nu par mai puțin snoabă decât cei cu care împărțeam canapeaua, patul sau prosopul de plajă.
Când m-am îndrăgostit mă gândeam la pantaloni oranj Marni și a trebuit să înghit în sec și de sete, de parcă nu aș mai fi vrut niciodată să sărut pe cineva pe nepusă masă.
Prima întâlnire ne-am dat-o în față la biserică și tot acolo ne-a găsit și prima ceartă.
Tristețea e o virtute de care, personal, m-am săturat.
Sfârșitul lumii m-a prins la ora 18.30 în Mini Prix, luminile s-au stins când eram la cabina de probă cu o cămașă lungă și neagră din mătase pe mine, afară câinii au început să urle ca la lună, clienții să se foiască ca termitele și eu să mă întreb dacă asta înseamnă că fac cumpărături proaste.
La Marea Neagră aveam costum de baie ca de la Cannes din 1967 și l-aș fi lepădat oricând pentru că în fața celui mai bun prieten nu îți vine să te ascunzi niciodată.
*Altfel, mi s-au mai întâmplat o seamă de lucruri bune, rele, frivole, tragice, comice și simbolice, dar chiar nu simt nevoia să mă laud cu ele.
Fotografie de Alexandra Diaconu la IDELIER
Am căutat marea cu sarea în diverşi oameni fără să ştiu că ele sălăşluiesc mai degrabă în animale.
Mi-am spus că încă un pahar nu strică sufletul, aşa că l-am dat peste gât şi mi-am închipuit că sunt Alice cu licoarea ei magică.
Când am urcat Coloana Infinitului ningea şi nimeni nu m-a avertizat că la coborâre eşti mai greu, mai plin, mai umflat de ambiţii şi prohibiţii dar cu sufletul golit până la pământ.
Cunosc trei femei care şi-au înlocuit ridurile cu văi ale plângerii, mirării şi exaltării.
Am găsit o rochie în care să îmi netezesc coatele şi să îmi întind pielea de pe spate. Hainele în care m-am simţit acasă nu erau ale mele.
În Control se dădea în stambă Silvia Dumitrescu, iar eu mă gândeam la un sărut şi doar atât.
Rochie de sanatoriu şi Katherine Mansfield, Silvia Şerban
Poveste pentru IDELIER BUCHAREST
Foto de Das Sasha
We’re supposed to celebrate Romania today, but the only thing I actually believe it’s worth celebrating is my Mother‘s birthday. Let me tell you the story:
She was born in ’58, on a blizzard-ish first of December, from a Dad and a Mom who were else born on the 30th on November and 2nd of December. She came out in the middle, like the missing piece in the puzzle.
My mother was never conventional. She dressed up in a way that got her simple yet stunning all the time. She was the definition of unconventional luxe. She and my Dad got married at the City Hall, when they were in their twenties, and celebrated in a same out-of-the-pattern party at Hanul lui Manuc. She wore a simple blue dress that was handmade and unique.
My mother would smoke a lot and she was the heart of the party. She wore bright red nails and Russian red lipstick with an Audrey Hepburn pixie haircut. My Dad was tall, skinny and looked like he stepped out of a 1960s rock’n’roll band. They were FABULOUS together.
This is my grandfather. What a man, huh? I never met him, but these photographs of him are Hollywood like and so dramatic.
This is him with my Mother while she was still in school. Notice the sexy classy roarring white socks.
THIS is my favorite picture.
My Mom and her high school mates. Lean back and learn, hipsters!
Graduation party dress
This could have made for a great album cover.
This is me, around the age of 3. Notice the way I wore my scarf. Natural born talent lol.
Happy birthday, Mom, and after you see this I hope you won’t make a scene. I HAD to share you to the world.
In other news, the chosen one who will attend the FASHION STYLIST CLASS offered by Universul Dalles Go is Sorina Ghiţă. Congratulations and see you soon!
Growing up, I never had an actual clue about what I want to do with my life. At some point, writing became a job and not just a college after hours hobby, and some years later, I still know and am more convinced than ever that I want to keep making wonders out of words. However, this year got me thinking and reevaluating my priorities. I stumbled across the leap, again. And I found myself again, in the early hours of the morning, grabbing coffee in bars (Control should know how many coffees were made in the service of killing my morning demons) and thinking my perspectives out loud with friends or just replaying them in my mind.
If you are like me, then you had and possibly still have multiple trial and error attempts to figure out yourself. I tried to be a photographer, designer, seamstress, painter AND fashion blogger. None of them stuck to me as writing did, and this year I decided that however long these passions will stick with me, regardless the measure, I will use them. Then I realized something that changed my perception. In order to be a successful blogger, you must know how to write. If you don’t, that’s it, you’re screwed. People will eventually get bored with pictures, if they’re not sustained by a story. But don’t imagine the picture themselves shouldn’t ALSO say their own story that gets your attention. You must know photography, have image editing skills and be really good with SEO. You must know how the light falls in a photograph, even if you’re not the one who takes it. You must be a stylist, which means you need to handle knowledge of art, fashion and aesthetics like a pro! Finally, you must remain true to yourself, so that at the end of the day, people won’t feel that what you created belongs to someone else.
And that was when I realized how many things can be done at once, IF you can use them in one meaningful direction, that before getting you awareness and readers, gets you fulfillment. My advice is to hold on to everything you’re learned, even in the weirdest, shittiest, most impossible moments in your life, because if you make even 3 little steps forward and 2 steps back, you have still achieved something better and you are closer to finding the truth about yourself.
This may sound encrypted and just bla bla bla meaningless chatter but let me get to the point. This is one of the other surprises I was preparing for you:
A few days ago, Universul DallesGO sent me an invitation to become part of their official bloggers team. For those of you who don’t know, Universul DallesGO is an institution that specializes in teaching grown-ups passionate about fashion, photography, styling, art of make-up and other branches of the creative industry to take their hobbies to greater professional lenghts. As an after school platform, it’s easy to attend if you work 9 to 6 and don’t normally have the time or resources to fulfill your passion. It’s a great way to meet professionals in the industry, learn actively from them and also get to know people with similar interests and begin fruitful friendships and collaborations.
I was extremely glad to be able to speak about how great these schooling methods are because I know so many people out there who haven’t had a proper background in art or fashion but who are eager to learn and experiment and build their way into the industry. I also know that self teaching can sometimes be 100 times better than the classes you get in the Romanian state system and that few are those who afford an education in a a college abroad that actually does something for your future. But I do know that however much you can learn by yourself, you still need guidance and the help of someone who admitedly knows more and better. And I think these classes are a good way of either enlightening yourself whether you are suited for your creative extension or discovering necessary stuff about your true calling.
Earlier this fall, I realized I want to focus on becoming a stylist. Meaning I want to continue my abandoned endeavor in photography and my practice with fashion from the position of the concept creator and so much less of the model. It makes me passionate and happy and it took me out of a very weird place where nothing made sense in terms of the general mid-late twenties What the fuck will I do with my life crisis. I am going to take DallesGO’s stylist classes and this blog will hopefully get through a series of changes that speak of this challenge.
I recommend it to any of you who don’t know what they want to be when they grow up, and who are of course keen about building up a way in the creative industries.
Follow your passion, feed your courage, it will take you to great lenghts!
If you are passionate about photography, styling, make-up or design and you want to learn more about PR, Advertising and how to seduce targeted audiences, apply for Universul Dalles Go afterschool. I promise it’s worth it.
My chatter now done, here’s the information you need to apply:
www.dallesgo.ro | 0769 041 711 | str. Ion Oteteleşanu, nr. 2, et. II
Lover from Ukraine is the name of the wonderful curve I used to polish these after Catalin took them in January. Still I couldn’t find the time to edit them until tonight. After I typed the title it made sense, with the fur and all.
Since some of you asked me if I can post new excerpts from my second novel in progress, here is something from April that I’ve been contemplating for a long time without enough resources to finish:
“Mama pleacă la operă. E o balerină stricată, o păpușă rusească cu chimir și văpaie în obraz. Cântă un disc cu Maria Tănase și ea cântă cu el. Romanțe bulevardiere de epocă trecută. Mama are jupon, cum aveau femeile pe atunci, și își toarnă din sticla de parfum peste piept, botez fragrant de emoții atee. Își trage rochia peste cap și un val de muselină neagră o înghite, cu mâini subțiri și tors subțire și părul tot numai bucle și valuri ca fumul, se îndreaptă spre mine și spre Dara, ne sărută apăsat, se îndepărtează furnicător ca o femeie păianjen și ne face cu mâna suav din ușă.
Până la trei ani Clemenceau nu a vorbit. Nici mama nu a vorbit cu tata trei luni, pentru că tata l-a bătut pe Clemenceau că nu vroia să vorbească.”