Days of being Gold

Dear nostalgic of (or allergic to) the seventies,

After my last post which exuded hate and anger, I truly needed something shallow and funny. “You should be dancing” told me Cayden. Happily he didn’t try to sing like one of the Bee Gees. But he was totally right! Music and dance are the best way to forget everyday problems, have fun, meet people, burn calories and wear our best “party dresses”!

I listened to this Grandadbob song which always makes me dance in front of my mirror, then I decided to go back to the seventies.

Fashion for Revenge!

Dear « messengers of peace » readers,

Please let me open your innocent eyes to introduce this post: If you’ve always thought Second Life was a world exempt from any kind of violence and aggressiveness, a world where people would be able to communicate and share their space with no prejudice and no bad intentions, a dream world then, let me tell you that maybe your real name is Laura Ingalls Walder (from Little House on the Prairie) or that you must immediately stop taking your anti-depressants (Don’t be ashamed! French people are one of the first consumers of these pills in the world, so if we can deal with this addiction, why couldn’t you?).

Yes, Second Life just like the real one is the place where all aggressions are possible! I won’t talk here about the way our fashionable eyes can be hurt seeing an avatar who wears the proof of its terrible bad taste on its shoulders. I won’t explain how some fashion faux-pas can wound a sensitive SL soul forever. I won’t demonstrate against some designers worse than the H1N1 flu trying to contaminate our wardrobes with the ugliest clothes ever imagined. No, I just want to talk about a stupid, basic, even not original case of aggression.

BIG is Beautiful!

Dear skinny, obese, thin, fat, small, tall, medium unidentified-reading-objects, please listen to this song and read this post…

Weeks ago as I was eating my breakfast (one diet cup of tea, one diet orange, one diet-nature-yogurt and one diet-mini-bowl of diet-organic-cereals with some drops of low-fat organic soya milk… yes my life is very exciting) and reading some news, some lines caught my attention: “Karl Lagerfeld doesn’t like fat women”.

Was I fooled by my eyes still paralysed by my last Botox injection? I’m afraid my vision was perfect. And here is a short summary of what I read : According to Karl (interviewed by the german magazine Focus), “nobody wants to see plump girls in fashion (…) There are fat old maids sitting in front of the television with their crisps’ pack saying that thin models are hideous. (…) The world of Haute Couture is a world of dream and illusion and must remain like this.”

Wow! I had a terrible headache trying to understand what the f*** had happened to Karl!

Interview with a Vampire

Here’s the perfect song for your reading…

Dear brave readers,

I was looking for a subject in my brain’s depths, and all I could hear inside my jellied mind was the echo of an abyss. When some weeks ago, as I was shopping at Atelier AM for my Mimikri post, I received a weird IM : “May I ?… I need blood, may I bite you?” What the hell was that?! A voice from hell precisely: a vampire called Eloindir.

My first reaction was to laugh, a bit too nervously maybe: I have never been into role playing games or other obscure existences in SL, except if you consider with a sure sharpness that the SL fashion world and the relationships between SL models themselves or agencies are nightmarish role playing games. But this Eloindir was so polite, asking for my precious fluid of life when he could just have gone for my throat like a wild creature, drained my veins, and made a wonderful necklace with some drops of my frozen blood… Yes he was such a gentleman that I decided to accept.

Well… I must say I did not feel anything special, while I had imagined something sultry like a scene from the Coppola’s Dracula. My kiss of Death was… short… very short. But as I would say to my rl lovers : “Length (double meaning) doesn’t matter”. The experience was new enough to be satisfying. Except I needed something in return. Come on! Now he had my non-expired blood running through his virtual dead body! I’m a shopaholic : you give money you get a dress, you give your blood, what can you get?… And here rang the bell! Halloween was at the end of the month (okay, now it’s over, but this is my usual french delay), I was looking for a post to succeed the one I was going to write about Mimikri: The next one would be something about vampires’ fashion.