Thrifting Guide: Part 1

The key to thrifting is to take your time and look at every item on a rack. Don't just look at the first ten and move on. There are vintage clothes, expensive fabrics, and high-end designers to be found for a few dollars an item, but only to those who take time to read tags, look at and touch the garments.

Ideally, we like to have 2-4 hours in a large store like Savers or Re-Style, 1-2 hours in a small store like the Salvation Army or Idaho Youth Ranch, but any amount of time will do. If you have one hour, just look at tops and skirts. If you only have fifteen minutes, just look at accessories.

We love the Re-Style on Fairview and Five Mile, because they are having a sale for the indefinite future - $1.00 for any clothing item. They still get new items every day, so we're trying to hit it once a week until the sale is over.

Besides, who doesn't love helping the puppies and kitties?

 

So here's the rule: If there is one thing you like about an item, try it on. Sooo maybe it has a great print, OR it's 100% silk, OR it's a really vibrant color, OR you think it will fit, OR it has fancy details, OR you think it's hilarious, and so on. If there is one thing you like, try it. 

A Plea for Compassionate Shopping

One of my biggest motivations for shopping secondhand is the prevalence of the sweatshop industry today.  Here, human rights advocate Charles Kernaghan tells about we raised the standards for work safety and fair wages for U.S. citizens and how we can extend those rights to citizens of developing countries.

This breaks my heart, obviously. I don't think that many people could watch that video without crying, but what good are our tears if they don't motivate us to change our habits? There's a reason that corporate mega-stores like Walmart and Target are able to discount their items so much - the cost doesn't go away. It is taken out of the wages and working conditions of people in developing countries.

So shop secondhand! Next time you need a new dress, decorations for a party, wine glasses, a lamp, or a birthday gift, stop by a couple thrift stores before you go to the mall.

For example, say I want to wear a somber but fabulous outfit today in mourning for the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire:

Vintage Socialite patent-leather kitten-heels: Savers, $8.00
Leather belt: Idaho Youth Ranch, $1.00
J. Crew drawstring tee: Idaho Youth Ranch, $3.75
Not giving my money to companies who use child-labor: Priceless :)

HyperChroma

 

Raf Simmons' Spring line for Jill Sander was full of bright corals, magenta, emerald and sapphire in riotous combination. I love the ostentation of loading on eye-popping, explosive color. Here's Nicole in some fearless hues we dug up at Savers, Salvation Army, and the like:

Stand with the Teachers' Union

 
The average American income is $44,000 dollars a year. That's for those who are lucky enough to be employed. The national unemployment rate is 9% - that's 13.7 million people. The unemployment rate for blacks is significantly higher at 15.3%, and hispanics come in at 11.6%.

The high unemployment rates are not temporary. Our jobs have been permanently outsourced overseas so that corporations can exploit people whose governments do not regulate safe working conditions or fair pay.

The 400 richest people in America together have assets and capital to equal the combined assets of 155 million of their countrymen. They have not been pouring this money back into the economy, so that it can "trickle down". They are hoarding it. This isn't class warfare, it's genocide of the middle class.

Fashion Magazine Disillusionment

Jason brought home this month's In-Style magazine for me, because it had Julianne Moore on the cover. I don't buy fashion magazines anymore. I used to read Harper's Bazaar and Vogue like the bible, but then I got poor. It was impossible for me to contemplate the virtues of thousand dollar shoes and million dollar jewelry when I was struggling to pay rent.

Now that I've been out of the retail fashion world for two years, flipping through a magazine is a very different experience. It still offers the basics on cut, proportion and volume, plus guidelines for dressing one's body type. I always liked Harpar's Bazaar and Vogue because they dealt with fashion's hot-button issues too: age, beauty, femininity, and money.

In spite of these good things, the force that drives the existence of magazines like In-Style is advertising. If they can't turn around all of those topics to make you want and buy more new fashion, they're out of business.

Aching for Spring...

Nicole and I have been spending hours planning all of her spring outfits. We've found some amazing vintage pieces at thrift stores, and have been mixing and matching with last year's clothes. Here's a little preview of what we've been working on.

1. Simple, focused color palates

2. Masculine shapes with feminine details

3.   Loafers

Evolution: A Love Story

Seriously, evolution is so ballin'. I don't know what I used to think. I didn't think; I followed with my mouth open. Glug glug glug. I happily swallowed all of those lies about "Darwin's Black Box" and how evolution reduces us all to biological machines.

Evolution did not cause the holocaust, the brain of Stalin, or the 1960's (more like the 1860's). Evolution is not a morally corrosive theory, nor is it a theory in the sense that it is theoretical.

Evolution is a theory in the way that gravity is a theory. All scientific theories are unprovable but falsifiable, and evolution is yet to be falsified. It is heavily documented, supported by scores of evidence, and contains all of our gains in biological knowledge over the last 150 years.

It is happening all around us, all of the time, and it is beautiful. Its indifference and lack of consciousness makes the stunning reality of life on this planet superior to any concept of god I once treasured. It is the justice of our genes, the brutality of the universe, and the struggle to survive. It makes no qualitative judgements. It has not the mind to judge.

I can't teach anybody anything about evolution. I am just a student who's having my mind blown on a regular basis.

Ricky Gervais at the Golden Globes

 I'm ashamed to admit it, but I thought that Ricky Gervais had lost his teeth. After The Invention of Lying, I thought that Gervais went soft to get rich in America. All of the dense awkward moments and offensive humor from The Office was gone and replaced with a Hollywood rom-com, trite and translucent.

I'm not a big fan of awards ceremonies anyway, so I figured this year's Golden Globes would be the same old celebrity masturbation with Gervais hosting. But, no. He brutalized them.  He bashed the celebrities for their swept-under-the-rug foibles. He mocked the entire supercilious proceeding. He criticized the American people for their disinterest in anything beyond their borders.

Relax, everyone. Ricky Gervais is still a badass.

From Reverence to Rape: Tilda Swinton's Labia

Luca Guandagnino's I Am Love is the classic tale of an aristocratic woman, Emma, played by Tilda Swinton, who is oppressed by her domestic duty to an unloving and absent husband. Who can release her from her life of stifling luxury and expectation? A man! A man who's rescued many damsels in chick flicks and romance novels, the sensitive beefcake: Antonio.

This Isn't a Religion Blog

When did I stop believing in God with a capital 'G'?

I haven't stopped wanting the stability and purpose and comfort that religion offers, but I don't want those things at the cost of the wide world and its possibilities. I will not trade my fears and insecurities for compulsory shut down of my reason on matters of politics, evolution, social justice, and science.

It's not a fair trade.

So instead, I settle for a loose and ambiguous spirituality. It is far less comforting to me in times of despair, but, in choosing to cope with the occasional destabilization, I keep the full scope of possibility in which I can enjoy and love this life (and the plants, animals and persons who share it with me).

Outside of the restriction of organized religion, I have infinite range for my appetites, imagination and humanity - more freedom with which to devour this life and learn its surprising lessons. Whatever comes after, this mortal life is likely the only one I'm going to get and should not be wasted by the second, hour, day, or year.

My reality and my ideology were at war for the first twenty years of my life. Now I discard the ideology and choose to live in the sublime technicolor now.

I am not an atheist, but I reject religion.

Thrift Store Fashion Shoot

Nicole modeling, me taking pictures. We didn't save the price tags, so I'm not sure what everything cost, but I can tell you that the average item price was five dollars, and nothing cost more than ten. We also used a few items from our existing wardrobes.

Revamping the Blog

Here's the thing: my philosophy about religion and all metaphysical topics is this....

Experiences are more important than philosophies.

I want to experience life and learn as I go. I don't want to set up another set of maxims for myself just to tear them down later. I don't want to replace religion with evolution or atheism, because it's just another idealogical cage. I want to be free to learn as I go. I want my beliefs to be bound by reason, but fluid in that reason can always overthrow them.

All that to say, I don't want to write a blog about religion and philosophy. I want to live my life.

Occasionally, I will want to sort out ideas of eternal significance. Sometimes, coming from a religious home, I feel like I still have to translate in my own mind: this is what I used to believe - this is what I believe now. It's kind of like learning a second language. It takes a couple years before you can think in French without translating from English in your head.

Similarly, when you accept a certain set of beliefs from birth, it is not easy to stop seeing the world through that lens. It still requires force of mind. This blog has been very helpful for me in organizing some of those thoughts and struggles, but now I want it to take on another purpose.

I would rather blog about my life and passions: crochet, music, fashion, and embracing the poor artist that I have chosen to be.

I think I'll keep the name the same.

-KL

Aw Shucks

First observation: my mouth tastes like ass. Perhaps this is because I ate rice and sang soon thereafter. I don't know why, I just feel like that was a bad idea.

Second observation: I am working on every song except the one that I have a deadline on. I promised to contribute a song to this not-for-profit compilation album and, so far, all I have done is name the file: "Blind Spots." Yes. I have a song called "Blind Spots" and it is about our cultural blind spots as well as my personal blind spots.

...

I was going to go to Story Story Night tonight, but Jason has the car. He's playing video games with his gentleman friend.

My excellent friend, Jessica Holmes, started Story Story Night as Boise's counterpart to the Moth. Dan and I did a story for them (that was podcasted on the 22nd) about getting robbed in Sacramento. It's all about fantastical fandanglings and some such nonsense.

That's right! Story Story Night has a podcast, so I don't have to be super bummed about missing Story Story Night for the millionth time. I get to listen to it later on their awesome podcast.

Thank you for reading.

-KL

Remembrances

I turn 25 next Thursday. I haven't been dwelling on this. In fact, I've given it little thought. But now that fingers touch keys, it forces it's way out. This is my first year as an adult that I am ready to be an adult. This is the first time that I realize that I am not caught in a whirlwind of rampant, catastrophic change that will pass so I can start my life. Life is a whirlwind of rampant, catastrophic change, and if I wait for it to pass, I will be the one passing.

In November 2006, I was still at the Master's College in Santa Clarita, CA. I burned an effigy of Guy Fawkes in front of my dormitory on the 5th and was given strange looks. My personal journal entries are flecked with passages from the bible, and accounts of a spiritual struggle:

The Prodigal Daughter

I won't apologize for my three-month hiatus. I am going to blog as it suits me. You read as it suits you. If I turn this blog into one of my many obligations to the world, I will fear and avoid it.

Last week I had a beer with a long-lost friend of mine. For the purpose of this blog, I will call him William Cowper. Now Mr. Cowper was not so much long-lost as periodically-lost. For the years that I've known him, he has swept in and out of social life. He will delete his Facebook page, cancel his phone, and keep to himself for months at a time. Then he will call, announce that he is rejoining the land of the living, and after a few months, the process repeats. I take little notice. I am happy to be his friend when he is friendly, and I do not judge him when he withdraws.

Last Thursday brought one such call, "Hey Kelly, it's William. Are you going to be out tonight? Maybe we could meet up." Around ten o'clock that evening we met in front of Dawson Taylor and decided on a place to go. As a joke, Mr. Cowper suggested that we go to quarter-beer night at Mac & Charlie's. I said, "My friend tells me that is a great place to get laid," also joking. The significance of this exchange was lost on me until later.

The Gauntlet

After I wrote my last full blog "Father Carey" my Uncle Derrick wrote me an email. What a great blog, he said. It was entertaining and well-written. However, he wondered if my blog had lost it's purpose. I began with the intent to explain how I got from point A to point B, from the pious to the irreverent, from faith to good fortune. Point A has been covered, Derrick said, but what does my life look like now?

Indeed, what does my life look like now? I have been mulling this one over for a few weeks, intimidated by the gauntlet he threw down. What does my life look like now?

I would love to write a blog tonight, BUT....

I'm not going to.

I've had a hell of a day and I can't do justice to any subject, let alone subjects of eternal importance. Work was a madhouse. Then I did a shoot for this local access TV show called Boise Song Talk. Nothing is more draining than having three cameras pointed at you while someone asks you questions. He asked, "Does your songwriting come from inspiration, or is there a method that you use? Is it a process?" I answered, "It's really more of a bodily function."

Besides, I wanted to write a really good blog tonight. I think I've been throwing softballs recently and I promised myself the next post would hearken to the carnage of old. (Remember when I used to say "cunt"?)

Fear not. The next blog will be juicy with the blood of unborn children. I will not disappoint you.

I'm going to bed....

Father Carey

Jason is working tonight!

Not to sound so excited, but when Jason is working I can eat and watch whatever I want. Right now, I'm eating toast smothered in Heinz gravy. It's a dish that is only made edible by an artery-clogging slab of butter and years of conditioning. My dad introduced me to this dish before I could talk, so, for me, it will always be a delicacy.

I'm also watching Dancing with the Stars, a show that Jason scoffs at, and listening to Justin Farren's folksy jams during the commercial breaks. Jason would hate it - all vocals and lyrics, no robot sounds.

I played a show with Justin last spring when Dan and I were in Sacramento. It was my first tour and everything went wrong. Two shows canceled. We blew a tire on our way to Sacramento, and once we were there, my car was broken into and about $7,000 worth of our instruments and gear was stolen. This included my baby, my first guitar: Deano.

There is No "One". There are Ones.

I just got back from my run. I love running. It hurt's like hell during, then after, you feel amazing. It's like the reverse of binge drinking. Anyways, from now on I'm going to blog once a week. I'll write on Thursday during the clarity that follows a great run, and it'll be up for you to read on Friday. There! Now you won't have to obsessively check the page every five minutes to see if I've posted. (I, however, will still have to obsessively check for your comments.)

I've wanted to talk about my romantic past for a while now, but was never in the right frame of mind. How post-run, jelly-legged delirium is the right frame of mind, I don't know. Ahem.

When I was seventeen I fell in love with this beautiful 21 year-old-man I knew from high school. I stumbled upon his facebook page today while I was putting off running, and I could still see it! I could still see all the things that made me swoon when I was in high school and knew better than to date a non-christian.

Ideas that Divide

Last week I posted a bunch of news clippings from various sources. They dealt with controversial issues surrounding human sexuality. I chose each clip because I felt that they were all issues that we should be able to agree on, Christian or secular.

In the case of the canceled high school prom, I think its pretty obvious that the school board behaved inappropriately. I mean, why would anyone go to such lengths to humiliate one high school girl? If that high school's prom is anything like my high school's prom, there's going to be a lot of premarital sex happening afterwords (generally frowned upon), but they weren't canceling to keep out all the girls without hymens.

Likewise, no matter which side of the aisle you sit on, women deserve to know if their baby is going to be born with a disability or abnormality, especially if its life threatening. Oklahoma doesn't want to let them know, because abortion rates are higher in these cases. Apparently Oklahoma can't overturn Roe v. Wade, so they're going to add two wrongs to make a right.