my lookbook diary for new year. [scheduled post] ♥

my lookbook account; go there if you want to hype any of these looks. thanks:)

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with new year knocking on our doors, time has come to reassess things from back then and hopefully start anew. i'm aware that there's no more blank paper left for me to start over, but all of us got plenty of new papers, erasers, glitters, and colorful pens to rewrite and refine.

unlikely fates and crazy decisions, strong hands and nimble fingers; i will still retain them all for new year. my resolution is just one: to stay firm; firm is such a mighty word, and it goes well against several cynical paradoxes. firm; milestone of strength.

hard-work is the best thing a man can do to stay firm and challenge fate; it is arrogant but is forever weak-kneed to the key-holders of shimmering new days: hard-workers.

stay firm and believe in hard-work. we are born to be ourselves; to challenge manual labors and programmed routines. we deserve the fresh air and marvelous changes.

apple and cinnamon for my dark christmas.

ph by dev

it happened to her one day when it rained. she was alone, or it was something inside her that was alone. a soul filled with distractions, she was searching for a love which would shot her towards illusionary heavens in flame; bursting, blazing, burning the endless sky.

probably it was the connection, probably it was a physical connection after all. he drew her close, he really was. he spoke of the stars and let the calmness of the rain washed away/cleansed his inner doubts. he was simple, he was in no way sugar-coated; but her thoughts about him that day weren't justifications, they were doubts. she always believed in internal doubts as the right hands of paradox.

they were connected somehow, it was through a channel so dark, so lacking in hopes she could hardly recall the lingering hunger of youth, but their hidden affection was something de profundis/in excelsis thing. she was more Wilde, and he possessed Bosie's beauty, vainness; he got arrogance, too, but it was something he wished he could hide over time.

they convinced themselves to believe in crossed stars, because their Uranian love didn't meet her standards while he was just too perplexed for that.

she smiled at him and said "love, some of us are looking at the stars."

you could predict the tail of the star from here,

i breathed the longing of the stars and infused live into the various lights brimming the tones of vanity on the dance floor. you could predict the tail of the star from here.

"a secret is not a real one until it takes the form of dark blood and leaks under water."

sarah jessica parker in my eyes,

(imgs credit to GWAS, elle, clcheapshoes520)

we who declare ourselves lovers of fashion, must've at least heard about carrie bradshaw and sex and the city (and those who tap deeper must've heard about the great patricia field, too), and how both figures influence the world of fashion. but sometimes we care too much about carrie we forget about the equally powerful, inspiring, amazing figure behind the character: sarah jessica parker, aka. SJP; talented fashion icon, a mother, and a remarkable actress.

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here in this post i am featuring two covers of her, one from may 2010 edition of Vogue and the recent january 2011 issue of Elle, which focuses on her as the cover star. i've read and re-read both articles and arrived to a conclusion that she is not only a typical hollywood celebrity who thinks she is able to cross to the world of fashion just because she is a celebrity (hello, Emma Watson, i'm talking to you, my love; no pun intended), but she is also a down-to-earth, even parker herself admitted that she is not a person who's very good at socializing.

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but what impresses me most is the fact that she is a hard-worker (stated in both vogue and elle) who loves challenge, and thinks that challenges should be taken seriously as a part of a bigger success and a leap forward (this one reminds me of designer prabal gurung's success philosophy). and parker does; she takes the challenge and put herself under the bigger limelight by being the creative mind behind the classic brand halston, for its halston heritage line, creating affordable, classic, classy pieces that grown-up women can easily fall in love with. anyway, chic is back, our inner rockers desire a momentary break:)

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enjoy her halston heritage designs, as featured in the january 2011 issue of Elle:

but we're not yet; not free yet.

ph by dev

hype on lookbook.nu

someone once told her that he would sacrifice everything to gain a life that's free, that resembles something out of a wild 80s movie: parties, sex, rock-n-roll with nobody giving a fuck about what he's doing and what will become of his life. she laughed. she laughed and nodded that she, too, was willing to lose an organ or two to gain that kind of freedom. he said let's make a pact with the devil and claim that long-lost freedom we deserve. she said why should we, because the devil has long been a part of everyone walking the planet earth, and all of us are busy taming it.

nite out.

ph by dev

i was wearing a vintage leather jacket, mango tshirt dress, topshop corset top, and i.s.o wedge booties.

yesterday's nite out with friends. the lights in the smoke-filled lounge were indigo, slashing bright blue, and stark red, just like the lined destinies of our youthful days. tons of laughters, but i hid tons of fears. one of them was fear of falling. with me it was never fear of flying. never. the story of my life doesn't exist; Duras would be proud of me for echoing the line.

featured: ALMOST SOBER, vol 02 for blogger interview.

thank you so much shebelle.

check out her lovely blog and the online magazine on ALMOST SOBER, a rad Thai fashion magazine. don't forget to follow;

you don't want to miss her great style and pretty pics! ♥

night of the wolf.

ph by dev

night of the wolf. she is going to haunt the dark alleyways tonight, against the cold, against the controversies. she is going to smoke her usual pack of cheap menthol cigarettes. people expect her to have fangs. people expect her to eat the entire world and spit it again in pieces after series of cold bites. they are wrong: she is just running towards her stellar dreams. she got her head among the Cassiopeia, and her eyes blinded by the unforgiving silver rays.

for my wonderwall,

ph by dev

for every intellectual thought there's a great humor waiting to be laughed at. fifty years later you'll find yourself consigning your fate to the same sky and the same dawn regardless of many alterations you've done. love is consisted of atoms, you said, and nothingness binds them together. 

come to think of it; boy, boy, you're never really a believer. 

old ph session:)

squander in pieces.

ph by dev

it was such a strange thing, this love. to breathe or to suffocate, to ignite and to burn, to leap towards heaven or towards hell, i could never conjure up a world to perfect the imperfections. the distant sky whispered nothing. it was cold in my heart, cold, this love, because i was going against myself, against fate, this love. after all, never a shadow he was, although not prominent. he was beautiful, he, the young workaholic man. you could throw him down on a random wasteland and you'd still recognize his melody. he, the young workaholic man, he didn't know how much me and my bones longed for him i had to kiss the rain to imagine the taste of his chilled lips. it was through him all the pleasures in the world should be channeled into me, deep, rooted, against all the force of resistance, the force of gravity. it was through his frail, delicate, beautiful body all the lovers in the world should taste the real meaning of infatuation. he, the young workaholic man, he was forever confused and world-weary. 

"this tainted world would never again laugh at me."

you have the most marvelous youth,

lungs filled up with smoke and the melancholy smell of rain, we lined our fates with silver threads. dreams and visions are one, at least in our youthful hungers. they are merely cousins, brothers, one is inseparable from another. one is a fragment of other's core.

"we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."

tonight i'll burn the sky like fireworks.

"we remained here; locked.still.trapped in convictions. but before the night reached its zenith we slided into reverie.we fantasized how it'd feel to be alive. to shed blood. to commune our souls."

today is the right day for me to suppress jealousy and act right. play virtuous, tough, and perfect; clean slate without a single dust, in the brink of losing who i really am. tonight is the right time to play good-girl, because the next morning my inner devil will come to haunt you back. i am here but not exactly here; here i'm burning as your perfect little vermilion rose, with my petals blazing in golden flame. one day you'll have to step forward and lead me somewhere.

i can't retain this fake Basil/Dorian infatuation forever.

flower children.

last friday with my model friend Gabriella raissa. she's such a sweetie. she baked both me and dev beautiful cupcakes which tasted really really delicious. i and dev took her pictures for her recent portfolio then spent time at our favorite resto/lounge talking about beautiful nonsenses and young love. we left fifteen minutes before seven to the other heaven. they know where the other heaven is. i do know where it is.

my lovely photographer/bff dev. she looks very pretty here ( i took this picture of her. heheh)