The second Wednesday Favourite(s) post just fell right into my lap. Zoë Kravitz starred in this Eleven Paris Spring 2011 Campaign two years ago. Pretty images, beautiful people and fun concepts never go out of style or out of season and this lookbook is proof. I love the authenticity of the shoot; that it's not made pretty or "clean" or posed and in doing so fits in with Zoe's aesthetic -- at least what I perceive her aesthetic to be. The images was shot by Sune Czajkowski.
Go here to see snippets of her gorgeous father posing for Eleven's 2013 spring campaign
I couldn't go into work today because on top of feeling like varying levels of poo since Friday, I couldn't sleep last night so I decided to do my day's work from my bed. From this I learnt a couple of things: I need to replace my laptop (stat!), that summer colds are poo and that beauty sleep isn't a myth -- just because I haven't experienced it it doesn't mean it's a lie. When I was done with work I landed on the Mr Price site and came upon these lovelies... I want them! I hope your Monday has been better than mine.
The first Wednesday Favourites of the year and I had to feature this behind the scenes clip of Quirky Stylista Funeka Ngwevela from when she (along with five other blogger-stylists) styled the Henry Holland for Mr Price Denim and tees lookbook. Funeka is by far one of m favourite people on the internet, so unapologetically herself and doing her. Enjoy!
I have been 21 for a little over a week. I didn't have any coming-of-age celebration and I'm glad because I have in the past thought of them as underwhelming. I've found myself thinking of F Scott Fitzgerald's Letter to his 11-year old daughter. After rereading it I made a copy and will keep looking at it. My parents didn't leave me anything "to open or read" when this time came around but I think they taught me all they could, all we were brought together to learn from each other. What I remember from my mother is her saying "I want my children to get more education than I did. To study and study for me, cover the ground I missed." "Things to worry about: Worry about courage Worry about Cleanliness Worry about efficiency Worry about horsemanship Worry about. . . Things not to worry about: Don't worry about popular opinion Don't worry about dolls Don't worry about the past Don't worry about the future Don't worry about growing up Don't worry about anybody getting ahead of you Don't worry about triumph Don't worry about failure unless it comes through your own fault Don't worry about mosquitoes Don't worry about flies Don't worry about insects in general Don't worry about parents Don't worry about boys Don't worry about disappointments Don't worry about pleasures Don't worry about satisfactions Things to think about: What am I really aiming at? How good am I really in comparison to my contemporaries in regard to: (a) Scholarship (b) Do I really understand about people and am I able to get along with them? (c) Am I trying to make my body a useful instrument or am I neglecting it?"
This is an except from the letter. You can read the rest of the it here. What a lucky little 11-year old.
What advice -- dare I say words of wisdom -- have your parents impacted on you that you carry with you?
This photo, collage?, is from a while back, before I got scissor happy. Happy Friday! I'm currently listening to an assortment of Lana Del Rey music and occasionally looking out the window at the rain-beaten trees and gravel.
These are the images I've been loving and appreciating while I've been meaning to post. To say something, anything but the words just don't seem to come. Birth date time is always the weirdest for me. I hope you are all well.
I suppose I'll be able to sleep when I shut this computer off. I actually climbed out of bed to put this together; something about Amy Winehouse's Love Is a Losing Game, which I was playing speaker from my phone prompted me to do that. These images were taken earlier, I'd finally figured out to do the "winged" eye thing with eyeliner (eyebrow pencil) and ended up making a drawn-on 'stach. Awesome way to spend a Friday night.
After replaying Amy once while running these images through an editor, Eminem' Not Afraid comes on. It's such a great song!
"I'm standing up/I'm gonna face my demons"
My 20 before 21 list has been on my mind a lot lately because well, I'm 21 on Sunday and the list is basically still intact. *insert frowny snarky lip thing here* It does feel like a major failure. Huge! I couldn't tick off "make a friend," it's that bad.
I also have this neck thing, it hurts so damned much! I was in bed late last night watching Dr Phil and for a moment I broke into this anxiety thing about dying. Dying would really suck! It'd be a mild tragedy, I reckon. In the midst of thinking of taking better care of myself and going for a walk in the morning, if I'm up early enough I swallowed another glass of cooldrink. This shit is poison! I know that. But I did it anyway.
I think I should seriously start looking for a different job. What do soon-to-be 21-year olds with Diplomas in Advertising Management , a certificate in copywriting and have spent a year and a half writing on blogs, conceptualising and missing the brief on a few print and radio ads do? Help!
My mum's close friend, who was really kind to my sister and I during her illness and then her death has moved closer to us again. That's nice. I suppose...
I don't know what the fuck is up with my skin! I know, it's taking a beating from my lifestyle (diet, lack of exercise, lack of make-outs -- ha!) But I hope it gives me a break soon! I actually asked my fellow black and oily-skinned followers on twitter for some tips earlier and I got nothing. Social networks truly suck when they're not being great. Ugh.
I've concluded that though I was such a failure with my list I'm going to have another look at it -- I wrote it on a whim -- and modify it if I need to. I will then spend the next year fulfilling it. It's an OK compromise.
Tweet me @NomsZA
Gone by Kanye West is the track that's playing now. *twirls on her imaginary babe*
Lana Del Rey's music always makes me think of flowers. The beginning of spring where every plant has flowers ready to bloom and bear fruit. Summer where bees buzz looking for pollen. She makes me think of dying flowers. Vases whose emptiness represents what once was. Outdoor sex in fields with wild daisies and trees pretending to offer shade. I think of rose petals. Playing "he loves me, he loves me not" with daisies. Flower crowns. Death and impeding rebirth. Life. Loss. Wreaths. Love. Petals dried onto journal pages.