Fashion show

So today around 7pm I was invited to go to a private clothing sale of some store called J2 by my brother's girlfriend. Dope shite right? NO, well at first it wasn't. We had to wait outside the mall waiting for them to get ready because unbeknownced to us there was going to be a fashion show. Wow trendy clothed people everywhere, I'm talking kinda HK trendy. I've never seen so many converse shoes worn with Arab scarfs. And by the way IMO Arab scarfs are Done.

The show opens with some amature dance crew (clearly didn't get paid) that look like they are still in high school. The attitude of the dancers are varied from "so smug you wanna smack'em cause they aren't that good" to "what am I doing here". Their execution of the moves are lackluster but still enjoyable in a "omg did the worse dancer just get a solo?" kinda way. After what seems like 15 minutes of limb wriggling they send out the first model. And the models are not that much better than the dancers. One male model is walking so slow it's like he just got out of bed. Another male model laughably leads with his shoulders every step. A female model decides that the best way to show off her outfit is to canter like a horse down the catwalk, arms straight down, and chin up. And the another female model decides that no she doesn't need to pull her shoulders back, they are fine just where they are in front of her chin.

Some bitchy things I say during the show:
"DOWAH! No she didn't just do a mid runway pageant turn and pose!!!"
"Bitach, just pull back your shoulders!"
"Why even turn up if your gonna sell it like that?"
"Whoa there horsey!"

The clothes they send out are.... trendy. They are okay if you like that style. They did send out a long coat that I would describe as "homeless chic" in that it was too big and had over sized saggy pockets, it wouldn't be out of place if you were Mila Jolavic in resident evil and needed to kill some zombies. And they also sent out a Metallic grey suit, *yawn* no more metallics, they are also Done. They tried to dress down a dress shirt and bowtie with a baby blue hoody and black windowpane on white shorts and suspenders. Needless to say they missed the mark.

Finally entering the first store I find nothing I like. It's all very japanese/HK style clothes with bright colours and bold cutsey graphics and busy designs. This store does not design it's own stuff it just carries the overprice products of other labels. In the second store I see a white fedora, I put it on a scoff and instantly like the clear plastic top hat shaped stand it was placed on, I try it on and love it and then get my brother to wear one also. Clearly we were the ones having the best time in the store. In the final store I do find a jacket by Obey there for $120. It's medium grey, double-brested with metal buttons, and has a large rounded collar ( imagine if you layed it out flat it would look like a semi circle). I didn't buy it deciding that I already have a lot of jackets and that I'd rather save my money and buy a really kick ass Burberry Trench like this one. But what was more disturbing than the $70 t-shirts that they sell there was that there was blood on the floor, I mention this to a sales person there and this is our exchange.

Me: "Did you know there there is some blood on the floor?"
Her: " Yeah I know it's disgusting." then she walks away. Classy right?



So we've spent about 3 hours there and the only things we take home with us are some fun memories. Naturally I strut out of the mall combining what I learned that day, leading each step with my shoulder and lifting up my leg like a horse. Then I realize the the models are walking in front of us and are leaving the same way. Pure Gold!

God I'm Depressed

What the hell is wrong with me? Maybe my oldest Brother was right. I shouldn't have watched so much television when I was younger. How could it not affect me? It's 3 am and I'm looking through modeling blogs, dredging the photo sections of model Myspaces I find, and trying to figure out how to gain access to the Facebook profiles of pretty people I come across. Dozens of photos downloaded awaiting to be sorted into folders never to be looked at again. Why do I do this? Why can't I go make my own happy memories instead of trying to steal them from others? Just now I've saved a bunch of photos of the model Matt Loewen and his girlfriend. Their smiling faces surrounded by the New York City club scene and their fellow model friends. They so effortlessly look great in these pictures. Perfect smiles and perfect skin.

I wish I could have what they have. Why do I feel like I'm old, like I've lost time. I'm going to be 20 June 8th but I feel like I'm turning 50. I want to stay 19 forever. I know that life could be worse and yet this is what I want. I know that there are far more important things in life, but how come I can't have this unimportant thing too? Is it because I know the truth, that looks aren't as unimportant as we hope they are, that people will in fact treat you and perceive you differently because of your race, because of your sexual identity, because of your money, because of your education, because of your height, because of your weight, because of your muscles, because of your teeth, because of your voice, because of your hair, because of your clothes, because of what you seem to be. Why can't I just be one of those happy soon to be 20 year olds? Thinking the world is great and they are going to be young and attractive forever. Why can't I have that ignorance? When was my innocence stripped from me?Why wasn't I protected from horrible truths. Why was it taken from me so young? I was only a child and it was taken from me... and I didn't resist. Now this is who I am, for better or worse.

Envy

Here I stew, 5:35 in the morning, in envy looking at the myspaces of pretty people; fashion people. When did this come about? When did I pick up this cancer? Was it society? Probably. Telling me I'm not good enough because I'm Asian, Gay, 5'9'', and not rocking a body ripped out of it's gourd. Why do we let this happen? B.Scott here says it best. If you haven't heard of B.Scott he's a gay YouTuber that makes regular posts and has a website of his own. I vehemently recommend that you check him out. He's no jock but he sure is jocular :D .



B.Scott says it best here. If only those words could penetrate my dense cranium and diffuse into the crevasses of my mind. I must remember my blessings and gifts and believe in them and myself and know that I AM a good person and deserving. I need to focus and know where I am going and push ahead, PUSH HARD.

"Where are you going?"
"I'm going to get what I want"


If you are wondering what was so envy inducing, here they are:

http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=96004053
http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=148595112
http://www.justjr.com/

Maybe I'm just like this because I ate a whole chocolate man. No it was not the Archangel of confectionery goodness that is bittersweet chocolate, but the Beelzebub named milk chocolate. Ingesting this homme du chocolat was a purely symbolic gesture as thanks to my lesbian friend for crafting it pour moi.

Volunteer Symphony

Today I went to the symphony with my lesbian couple friends. They are some of my best friends in the world I might add. I did make the kind gesture to invite my 56 year old Mother along with. Basically because in her sheltered life, she has never been (nor have I but I'm 19) and she really doesn't go out much and I thought this might be nice for her and also a chance for her to meet my friends so that she feels like she can trust me with them. It's such an ordeal going out with my Mom anywhere, first she takes forever to get ready but has the gumption to yell at you scornfully to "get ready quick!". I ended up dressing her because that was what was taking her so long to get ready. I know that's so gay that I dressed my mother *sigh*... not that it's a bad thing :). She also talks about things I usually don't care about and I feint interest in the form of gazing forward and nodding. Adding to the aggravation we went down town, a place she doesn't know how to drive around so well, but we have a map and know the address which would seem like comfort enough but she still freaks out and I have to get her to breath in and out for me and tell her to just trust me and we will be fine.

The symphony was good, but not bone chilling good. Maybe if they played Beethoven's 9th, that's always a crowd pleaser and makes me all watery eyed. This was a Volunteer's appreciation event, my lesbian friends love volunteering, so do I but in a very different way - I'll write it later, and it was hosted by some woman comedian. She was alright but not that mind blowing, she talked between pieces. The conductor though was French Canadian and was tiny as hell(5'2 is my guess...well i was looking from above....) The last piece of music they played was really beautiful and thrilling and of course my mother was about to fall asleep.

On the drive home we picked up some Churches Chicken, which by the way kicks the shit those dry salty pieces of turds people call KFC. When I eat it I take off the skin because I'm not crazy, but then suddenly I have a psychotic episode and end up eating them anyways.

Hot stuff!

Wow, that's pretty damn hot!!! And their clothes haven't even come off yet!



I stole this from GayClic a French Canadian blog that is about all things gay on tv and movies and more.

Daft Punk

So if you haven't seen this video you really need to. I won't say much of what it is but it's evident once you get in. All I will say is that someone needs to do this in a club for all to see!





I think they are eastern European judging from their facial features and the preamble. I've seen that "Kiss" thing numerous times from Czech people. I won't say from where but it involves a web cam........ I didn't buy any!!! I just talked to them sheesh!


Also I realize that yesterdays post I was a bit over zealous. But the over all gist of it is true, I idolize then try to completely copy that person. which sounds like I might steal your life and then kill you and then live it as my own but I would never go that far, I don't have the organization and multitasking abilities it takes to do that. Maybe Tony Robins could help me with that.

Stuck

I feel stuck, I feel like I have nothing to give, I'm trying too hard to be other people. That's always been my problem, I have a strange combination of urges to stand out of the crowd but at the same time to emulate, even copy, someone I like. I want to be different from 'normal folk' and yet I want to completely assume the life of people I think are perfect. Idolizing them really gets you no where because they have flaws in real life and they aren't perfect. And that right there is my problem, I want to be perfect, and that's why in my mind I try to convince myself that these people are perfect so that I can copy them, so that there is a black and white way to live your life, a guide to living perfectly, but we all know there really is no 'right way'. I keep letting other people define my reality and it's just upsetting that I'm so easily swayed. At one point I wanted to be like Eylse Sewell, I wanted to have her combination of beauty and intellect, I wanted to be her, she skipped grades because she was so smart and graduated with a double major and then went on to become a model. How cool is that? I still do idolize and envy her. Then I found London Preppy and thought he was funny, attractive and fun. Secretly I'm disgusted with myself that I first went to his blog because there were pictures of him and his friends shirtless, could I be more stereotypically shallow? I never became 'attracted' to him but I wanted what he had, I wanted instant acceptance even if that was only based on looks, I wanted to have hot guy friends, I wanted to have a hard gym body, I wanted people to look at me and my friends and think we were hot and cool,I wanted people to come to me, I wanted to be wanted.

But what made me realize all of this? Today I found another blogger named JA who has a blog called Gym Ra(n)t. I found it because he posted a comment on London Preppy and his picture was of his chest. So then I proceeded to look at his blog to see what there was to see. Secretly I wanted to look at it and find flaws in it(him) so that I could make myself feel better about not being as ripped as he is. So I'm looking through it, I read the description (the gist of it is : self acknowledging hedonism) then I start to look at the posts taking a cursory look around and he has pictures of himself topless and in brand name clothes. Then comes a series of changes in my thinking, first I become attracted to him from his pictures, much the same way I did with London Preppy, then I already started the process of idolizing him so I start to read his entire blog from the beginning, but then I start to notice that his blog is very much like London Preppy: pictures of himself but the face is blocked out, the hedonistic description, talking about going to the gym a lot, brand clothes. This then made me start to dislike him, "What a fool and a poser!" I thought "he's trying to be London Preppy". Then the sad realization, I wast starting to not like him because I projected myself onto him. That's not to say that JA is trying to bite London Preppy's style but that I was going to dismiss him because of what I thought he was doing, what I'm doing.

This is all very distressing. So what now? Well I still like London Preppy and Eylse Sewell. As for JA I'm going to read his blog from start to finish. Why? Because I think I owe him that for judging him so hastily. What am I going to do now? I donno blog, because clearly I need some attention? Try and be my own person I guess, what ever that means.

On a side note, I was doing laundry and one of my T-shirts had this kinda weird brown stain on it, I decided to use bleach on it, the reason I used pure bleach on it is because I FALSELY remembered that I used bleach on it a different time when I stained it and got out the stain, in actuality I used baking soda and vinegar. The shirt is off white so the part I used bleach on is white white now, and the shirt is fucked. I guess that'll be a lesson for me. It's not too bad, the shirt I got for real cheap at Value Village for 2 dollars. Yes I'm whining over a 2 dollar T-shirt, but I really liked it, it was a graphic T that said Bass in your face and had an old style marching band bass drum on it and two deer and grey sleeves and a grey collar, trust me it was all very hipster cool graphic t. Sigh. I think I'll still wear it, you can't tell that it's there if you don't know it, after all it's just slightly whiter than the off white shirt, especially when the shirt is all ripply, the way that T-shirts are. Except you can see it when you flatten it out. This is just like the time hydrochloric acid was split on my diesel jeans and dark grey, short sleeve V neck shirt I was wearing in my chem lab. And when I woke up in the morning there were holes in them. Sigh. Maybe with this shirt I can just hope that the spot gets dingy to match the off white colour of the rest of the shirt? Wow all my OCD and Anxiety disorder come in to disturbing focus here. GOD damn it , it's just a freaking 2 dollar shirt!

edit: I've read the gym ra(n)t blog and I think I like it so far, I was too fast to judge.