Friday, December 21, 2012

w@t3vuR


I feel so lame being super into the 90s look sometimes. But I really can't help myself, I'm probably the biggest fangirl of the 90s ever... thats also probably a hyperbole. I wasn't even zero when 1990 happened, I spent five long ones in the 90s, but for at last half of that time I was realizing shit like: what my hand was, and holy shit a cardboard box is so dope. Yet I'm so nostalgic about the things I wasn't apart oF, I could quote myself whining  bring the nineties bacckk way more times than I need to.  And I don't mean bring my childhood back, I mean bring the adulthood I couldn't even comprehend back. I guess it's the fact that I never got it, that I could have, and that everyone else that had moved on from skydancers (I'll never move on from skydancers) was getting nineties fashion shoved down their throats. I remember in the early 2000 thinking that wide heels looked bad... why the hell did I ever think that? I really wish I was born just a few years earlier, or actually that my mom was born a few years earlier and then had me at the same age that she did... teen mom wasn't a thing in the late eighties, mtv was too busy broadcasting the "m" part. If I'm honest with myself, I didn't realllyy grow up in the nineties, I just existed in it. But god damnit I'm going to become an adult in the 90s and fulfill my dreams throw some awesome clothes, hear me roar.
Uh yeah you'd need a fuzzy cropped sweater if you were going to rock a 90s look. I found this guy on thevelveteencloset's etsy. It's sold... so sad. But seriously wear this with some faded high waisted pants a flannel and silvery lipgloss and you're 1995 all the way baby.

The tattoo choker. We all hopefully remember this one. They're a way cooler version of silly bands that came way earlier... but who are we kidding, silly bands will have their nostalgic comeback just like these lil poops.
                     
Okay if you're a dude and you're reading this, don't go out and buy one of these. This one is kind of s stupid one, but imagine if an awesome girl brought these computer graphics shirts back with weird leggings and cool shoes?? It would be amazing. If you are that girl please visit HumanNightmare's etsy. And there are so many goodies in that store beyond this piece. 

But the thing we all miss the most, setting aside clothing, are those computer graphics. So here you go:

Yours for evurrrzzz
L34H

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

C O C O x D U T C H 3 $ $

Oh baby, it's Coco, Manda, Amanda. If you don't know her by now, educate yourself, she is the next big thing. She believes that the best style should confuse you, and it is so true, because true originality should be so fresh that only the creator herself knows what the fuck it's about.

Coco interview from Leah Maldnado on Vimeo.


All of these pictures are by the lovely Frankie Tricamo-Palmer. 


















Sunday, December 9, 2012

Kimmie Oh No

Okay, I realize that it's still winter, but I like to plan ahead. And this spring I am planning on wearing a kimono jacket on the regular. Actually.. I'm not that patient, I'll probably start wearing them now (it's warm enough inside right? Who cares about how cold it is outside). I realized I needed one when I started to think to myself my outfit would be perfect with a kimono...every single morning when I got dressed. And god damn it it would be! Right now I can't imagine a cooler outfit than a sleek grey-ish (con muchos pretty patterns) kimono over a simple black jeans+lose black T/tank+heels combo.
Look at how perfect they are:
This lovely one teaspoon kimono is brought to you by my discovery of it on Asos, and it's on sale right now. Yes, I would get on that if I were you.

As much as I'm not that into UO, this kimono from there is pretty fly. However, fromt he look of it, it seems like the fabric is kind of starchy, kimonos need flow, so stick to chiffon/chiffon-like material.
And here my lovely friends, is my perfect kimono... waiting for me on Vintage Grime's etsy... I swear if anyone buys this (and it's not for me) I will, as Leslie Knope beautifully put it: "...rip your throat out." 

Disclaimer: I don't think the kimono will be too breath taking if it's used to aid a bohemian look, not in the winter anyways. I think a kimono should fall under "over-sized fashion", treat it that way, keep outfits underneath simple and clean cut. Geishas do not fuck around with too my accessories and do-dads and other unnecessary shit... they just let the kimono shine, take a note from them.

Forever and ever,
L34H $$


Monday, December 3, 2012

Anyone Can Know Everything

Anyone can know everything, we live online. Your entire personality is online, that is, if you're still the person you were when you had a myspace, and you're the person you pretend to be in your facebook pictures, and the contant steam of thoughts on your twitter are organic, honest, and totally not erased five million times until they perfectly reflect who you want to be perceived as. Admit it, this generation is socially retarded, we're literally hiding from ourselves while being exposed to the world in glass boxes. This is why I think having see through accessories is going to be the next big thing. I called it, don't forget that. It's totally a true prediction too, what's the difference between a see through bag where everyone can see what you carry and the interests section of your social media site? Absolutely nothing.  We both know that you pick everything you put in there carefully, staying mildly honest, but never straying from the fact that you're appealing to an audience. We're only honest in our heads and in the pages of the diary we only write to ourselves (not the diary you write kind of to yourself and leave somewhere for someone to find.... wait I'm the only one whose done this? Come on...). It's too easy to white lie, and way to hard to be ourselves. So I'm thinking, whatever, I'll embrace it, my form of honesty will be served to you on the platter of, I'm aware I'm pretending, so look at the things in my see through bag.


Who the hell says clear shoes are for strippers, they are so not, Cinderella rocked that shit in the first place. And if you wear toe rings in the winter (why) now everyone will know. Unless you're reasonable and wear cool socks with these instead of turning on every living thing with a foot fetish. I found these suckers on nasty gal, shop there for outrageous things only.


I found this lil' keeper on karmaloop. This Flud watch shows off the bones of your wrist (if you're normal) or the little fat rolls that lead to the start of your food shovels (if, you're addicted to drinking vegetable oil). A clear watch doesn't reveal much but it does act as a perfect accessory: it goes with everything.

Oh my god, statement piece of the year right here, literally pandora's box on your arm! This bag comes from aemiamore's etsy, and is straight from the god old days when being extremely fancy on the regular didn't take you look like a fool. God I need this.

And there you go you fake bitch, perfect accessories to match your "perfect" persona. I'm just kidding. You're not fake. How can anyone be called out for being fake when fake is the new normal? Like I said, let's just embrace this and continue editing our tweet.

Yours for always,
L34H



Saturday, December 1, 2012

Growing up in a vintage store





My mother seldom talks about herself as a young adult, she very much lives in the now. But when the rare nostalgic wind sweeps her thoughts I’m there listening to every word, because more than anything in the whole wide world, I wish I wish I wish, I remembered every single moment of my childhood when my mother was this woman that I can feel myself becoming.
At 23 she had me, and a few years later she made the best decision in my life. The memory is fading, but I can vaguely remember stuffing a car with hangers and boxes and taking my last glimpse of my grandparent’s house in Corpus Christi, Texas. From there it’s as if I teleported to my beloved city, Portland, because I have absolutely no memory of the trip. But poof, there we were in our small studio apartment on NW 23rd surrounded by the trees my mother says she moved for. In the mid 90s, NW 23rd was not the yuppie haven it is now. It was a little rough around the edges, a little faded, a little ripped, it was your favorite flannel in the form of a neighborhood. And I loved the hell out of that flannel. There was this guy that rode his bike all over the place and he would stop in front of you, curl his hand into a tube, put it to his eye, and intently ask, Can you see it?! CAN YOU SEE IT?! I really miss that guy, no ounce of sarcasm in that statement. He was part of the character of that area, I might even go as far as saying was the character of that area. I really miss a lot of things about the neighborhood, too much has changed.
I’ll miss nothing more than my mom’s vintage shop though, I continuously beg her to open it up again, but she continuously dismisses me, I already did that, I’ve moved on. I wish everyone could have seen her store through my child eyes, because only then do I think everyone would understand how lame it is that her excuse is I already did that. It was so amazing. The store was a few blocks from our apartment, past the hospital by a bit, and down two blocks on NW 21st and Northrup. Right outside of the shop stood her hand painted sign that read ‘Ropa Usada’ in warm colors (which she commissioned a homeless old hippy to do for her), and right inside were two mannequins (that I gave the final okay to in terms of outfits), and a staircase to mother fucking heaven. It was a little kid’s dream: endless options for dressing the part in any make believe game I could literally imagine. And it gets better! Below Ropa Usada was the best place to showcase outfits: Anna Banana’s. It was my LA, New York, London, and Paris fashion week that happened every week of the year. When I arrived at my mom’s shop, my first move was to inspect the new clothing, and if there was nothing that interested me, I’d revisit my old favorites, always putting a new twist on things as to not repeat myself. One of my favorites was this beautiful aqua mini-dress. It had a tight crew neck with an opaque body that was very boxy, very late 60s, and flowing chiffon sleeves that came in at the wrists with a band of the body’s material and a big round white button. I’d throw that on paired with a hat and whatever shoes I was wearing, at a young age I knew that walking with confidence took shoes that fit. And then, walking with all the confidence in the world (that my shoes could muster), I’d enter Anna Banana’s to be greeted by the smell of coffee and clove cigarettes. Everyone knew me, the regulars at least, and they’d chant, Princess Leah, Princess Leah! That might be a memory through a bit of a conceited lens, but dressed the way I used to, I couldn’t help but be a bit of a diva. The back room of the coffee shop was where all the Metropolitan Learning Center kids hung out when they were skipping school, and because they were teenagers, they were basically gods to me and I clung to them with every single one of my pint sized finger nails. I’d give them tattoos in sharpie, tell them their cigarettes would kill them one day, and more or less give them the best fashion advice a kid could give. I was the cool aunt they never had in a small child’s body. They loved me. But if only they could have got to know my mother, she was a little too busy to be giving tattoos and advice. She did make frequent trips downstairs for a “Doo Dee Doo”, espresso mixed with coffee (which enabled her to single handedly rip out all the carpet from the store and remove it, if that’s not a caffeine high… what the hell is?!). I’m sure they at least got a glimpse of her then, and if they hadn’t, they were missing out. Of course my mom looks good now, but I’m currently obsessed with the 90s, so my mother circa 1990-something looked fucking fantastic. She had short straight across bangs with a chin length bob, never wore (and still doesn’t) a drop of makeup except for the occasional deep, dark, rep lip, and always, always, a perfect outfit. Some might imagine a vintage storeowner to wear something flashy, something eccentric, something straight from the rack of the store, and a lot of owners do, but my mom kept it simple. She mixed in pieces, be it a broach, a jacket, shoes, whatever, she styled herself perfectly. Her favorite outfit was a long black skirt with a banlon turtleneck.
I keep the memories of growing up in a vintage shop way too close to my heart. The memories creep up on me every morning when I’m picking my outfit, every time I go shopping, every time I do anything just about. I’d never trade them for anything, except maybe a vintage Channel clutch… but I’d probably regret it in an instant if I did.