Candy Perfume Girl/Istanbul Girl

Uuuugh. Okay, okay, like any other female, I have watched the entire Sex and the City series and I did see the film and tonight I saw the sequel. I would like to state for the record I think the women portrayed in this series seem like empty-headed, selfish robots who don't know the first thing about acting rationally (freaking out and thinking the relationship is over because you farted in front of your boyfriend? Really? Show me the girl who actually thinks like this and I will gladly show her the back of my hand) and I greatly dislike the protagonist Carrie Bradshaw. She's neurotic, whiny, obsessive, superficial, and just plain dumb. I have never agreed with any of her choices on the show and I truly hated how she went batshit crazy over just a man and after the hell he put her through (and vice versa) they got married and somehow it was happily ever after.

So why do I watch it? Well firstly, it's pretty entertaining television and as someone who majored in TV (see how I slipped that bit of pretension in? Yeah, it's in cases like this where I can actually do that and feel I can get away with it) I can appreciate the occasional campy situation comedy a certain plotline may introduce. Secondly, I started watching it when I was quite young and it was kind of a "risque" show and I was purely curious but then I felt I had to follow it through because I invested enough time into it that I wanted to see how it ended. It's like a trashy novel; you hate it for the time it makes you waste and for the pure anger and rage it may inspire, but you need to see it through to the end because it's secretly kind of fun, in a masochist self-loathing kind of way. It's not the same as a badly written book, no that you can toss aside and never think about again. It's not even like a bad movie (though for all intents and purposes, the movie I saw tonight was definitely a bad movie) which you can turn off or walk out of. Bad books and films don't quite know how bad they are and operate under the assumption that they're quality material. Like Orhan Pamuk novels. I'm sorry, but when a story is ten pages of run-on sentences highlighted by 45 metaphors, that is not good writing. That's bad writing that thinks it's good. I don't believe Sex and the City believes it's good in any way. The fans are a different story. Especially the ones who identify themselves by certain characters ("Oh I'm a total Samantha!") The series itself is crap. But let me get to the third reason. The clothes and hair. Okay the third and fourth reasons I guess. I know many a person, say my boyfriend, who rolls their eyes and can't understand the idea of watching something just for the clothes. It sounds really, really stupid and like a lame excuse for wanting to watch something you know is bad. Okay, then why do people watch porn? That ain't real sex ladies and gentlemen. Sex and the City is one of the many visual sources for clothing and hair porn that I like to watch. I don't watch real porn because meh, I'm not interested in watching unfamiliar people get it on (as opposed to watching people I know get it on? Yeah don't ever need to see that either). But I do like flipping through Vogue, I do like browsing through various tumblrs, and I like watching TV shows and movies that cater to my want of seeing pretty clothes.

And yes, there were many, many pieces that my mom, cousin, and I oohed over. Though this wasn't as fun as the first movie. With that one there was a good long pause between the series ending and the reintroduction of the characters and everyone knew exactly what it was going to be. This one...well, I think it's time to stop beating this particular dead horse. The movie itself was horrendous and I've never felt such second-hand embarrassment during a film ("It's just like Aladdin and Jasmine but with cocktails!" Augh GAG ME). Nor am I a "Big" or an "Aidan" girl as I disliked both characters and their relationship to our protagonist. I'm not any type of girl really, not in relation to this show or in general. And I don't care how much money the Emirates and Abu Dhabi have, when you don't have taste opulence just looks tacky not rich. I just kept comparing the architecture and decorating of the hot shit hotel (22,000$ per night) with places I've visited in India and no contest. But seeing as how this is the point of this blog, I feel I should call attention to this:

Oh yeah, even they know who the first fashion queen was. Pure shades of Madonna. I'm going to sound like a terrible human being but Christ is Sarah Jessica Parker an unattractive woman. I mean, she's done amazingly well with what she has but she is not a pretty lady. Or a very good actress. I pretty much hate her character the most actually. Why did I watch this show and the movies again? I think I might just be a masochist.

Oh and New York is highly overrated, not that they were in the "City" long enough to showcase that. But that's another bitch for another day. Just saying though, tall buildings do not a romantic and wondrous city make. Oh, that's what kind of girl I am; an Istanbul girl.

Impressive Instant

When I'm back home in Istanbul, I usually have to get dressed up and attend events throughout the summer. I'd like to think I make myself look quite presentable (for the opening of the Istanbul International Music Festival I wore a gold dress! I'll have to recreate that look as it was one of my best/favorites) so here is one hurriedly taken photo right before I left for another evening out yesterday. I recently got my hair cut and my Cruella DeVille streaks given a boost and this was one of the few times I had worn my hair straight for an event. My dress was a short-sleeved black on black polka-dot mod-inspired dress from Mango from a couple seasons back and the necklace I paired it with was one I found at Aldo with 18 different colored strands of stones.

My shoes, my fantastic shoes which made my legs look so, so long and toned, were a gift from my aunt. I'm 5'5' more or less and these heels were a good 5 inches but with the platform they were so comfortable to walk in. They're the first pair of heels I didn't feel like a foal just learning to walk in as well as the first pair that didn't give me any blisters or scratches or anything. This is kind of a big deal as I have such sensitive skin, especially on my feet, that the slightest bit of discomfort will quickly become a huge pain in my ass. And foot.

My other jewelry consisted of the simple stones I wear in my ears almost all the time (I have 10 piercings and rarely change them except the first two when I wear dangly earrings), my neon orange/pomegranate blossom watch and a bracelet and ring I also picked up, coincidentally, in Aldo. I don't really shop there much but I always stop by as there is a store so close to where I live and every once in a while I find cheap but irresitibaly fun pieces like this elephant ring I'm sort of in love with and my Hindu deities bracelet. I took the photos of the latter objects just before writing this entry which is why I'm in my comfy Misfits shirt in the pictures. God I love this ring. It's huge and loud and so me. The store clerk even said he could see me wearing it when I bought it and he doesn't even know me! It's shiny and an elephant, I'm quite content.



The bracelet has five parts to it.





The Borusan Philharmonic Orchestra performed with world renown pianist Lang Lang and since we were the sponsors we got to sit in the front row and secretly wave at the orchestra members we knew. Lang Lang played very well and I'm no expert but I'd say he's a pretty terrific piano player, especially at age 27. After the show, my mom went to congratulate everyone and we hung back but we told my little cousin to go with her. She's been playing the piano since she was 11, 5 years now, and apparently when she told Lang Lang he high-fived her! Isn't that the cutest thing?
It was also my mommy's 51st birthday so when we got back, we had a late dinner at home and made her blow out a candle on a cake my grandmother had sent over earlier in the day. We were all in our pajamas watching Frasier and eating warmed up food at 11:30 pm. and it was just a nice moment. My mom and I tend to have pretty terrible birthdays so I was happy we could give her a good one (though, we did take her to Venice last year so she really can't complain about her birthdays anymore!)

Today was the opening of a new art exhibit at the Music House and if you're in Istanbul (doubtful but hey, maybe someone secretly reading this is!) please do check it out. I'm going to try to get photos but some of the installations are truly so original and beyond marvelous, they deserve to be seen in person. It's called MADDE-IŞIK/ MATIERE-LUMIERE/ MATTER-LIGHT and some of my favorites included a piece that combined light and sound vibrations to show patterns in water, and a 3-D photography exhibit where you climbed aboard a makeshift "car" and guided yourself through various locations in Turkey by pushing the buttons and steering the car (3-D glasses and imagery made it seem like you were actually driving and exploring the landscapes).

We also ran into our old friend Mercan Dede (whom I've talked about here) who was in town visiting and he's actually doing a performance piece combined with a reading by Elif Safak, the writer of The Forty Rules of Love; A Tale of Rumi, (which I wrote about here) in Brussels on the 25th and my mom and I might be going!

I want your skuuuull/I need your skuuuull

Yes I keep playing with the header. I will also keep doing this because I am hard to please and I enjoy copy-pasting on Paintbrush as I am photoshop retarded. Have some nice pictures from my favorite tumblr.

Oh look it's a "vintage" version of me.






I sleep in this shirt.

It occurrs to me I never had a fondness for skulls or skull-prints in high school when I should've but lately I am quite enamored by them. Find all the skulls in the header! Correct answer wins the prize.

Should I carry on/Will it matter when I'm gone.

With that last post, I realized I'm halfway done with the tasks! I had 30 written out and that made fifteen. I've only got a few huge ones left like, oh write a book, a few small one like learning to tie a sari, and a couple dumb throwaway ones I put down just to have a good pile of tasks to get through to start me off, like creating a Warhol-esque print or getting a long wig and having a "mod" day. Which still sounds fun and I'll probably do. Because I want a wig. But this isn't the end. I like to read books that are either about traveling and the adventures that ensue or books about self-discovery via a certain goal like cooking through all of Julia Childs' Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year or a certain book I read that was sent to me through my agency. This project, adapting Madonna and her various accomplishments to suit me and my life was to get the ball rolling in an effort to emulate books like the latter one mentioned. In a way, it worked. By going out and sticking with my tasks I now have a job (though some might think otherwise on the subject), a more or less permanent home, and a better mental state of mind. I also have plenty of stories and anecdotes like learning to drive with a burly Russian man sitting next to me and calling me honey and encouraging me to go faster while screeching in his native tongue to someone I assume was a family member. Though this started as a way to get me to actually get up and do stuff while my Elliot was away, it's morphed into a year-long pursuit of dreams, so to speak. I want to sell a script, I want to lose weight and get a body I'm actually comfortable living in and it's only June. Hopefully, I will push on and I have faith in myself that I will try. For now, I leave you with the song that started it all (from the tour I actually attended) and these words; like a dream, no end and no beginning.

Task 28: Die Another Day (hur hur), Or: [Mina] Love(s) New York

Look what I got after only 12 hours of driving classes and a couple days of studying the manual. Mind you, I'd never been in the driver's seat of a car before those lessons either. Well, except for the one hour my uncle took me out to show me the rudimentary stuff. But hurrah, I can drive now. More or less. I should practice.


Heh, you can see my sister's graduation photo in the background of the picture. That's why I came back to Istanbul actually, to see Miss Mina finish high school and for our entire family to joyfully scream, "GOODBYE ISTANBUL INTERNATIONAL COMMUNITY SCHOOL," for one final time. Now, I'm not one to brag...no, actually I am. I was referred to FOUR TIMES in my darling sister's speech. We don't have valedictorians or whatever at IICS but student speakers are chosen to represent the grade and say a few words every year. It's a tiny school, my graduating class had 24 people and my sister's had 36, so the speeches can actually be heartfelt and mean something and I also gave one when I graduated too. With two other people but ahem, I did most of the work. I composed a rhyming couplet for every goddamn person in that graduating class even the ones I didn't really know. Mina's speech was really great. It was funny and personal and sincere and not at all sappy or cliched unlike some other speeches we had to sit through that day. My aunt, uncle, and cousin along with my grandparent's and another cousin all managed to come to the ceremony too and we were such a loud, happy bunch. Tons of pictures were taken including one last shot of the banner with my graduating class and my name on it too as we're probably never coming back to that school again. Good riddance.

My sister's graduation dinner left mine in the dust though. We had an awkward meal crammed in some hotel with everyone splitting up and ending in different places at the end of the night while I was stuck in downtown Istanbul at midnight on a Saturday night getting groped at the Burger King as I waited for my best friends to rejoin me so we could go home. Mina's was poolside by the Hyatt and had cocktails first and then while we ate dinner, two belly-dancers, a silly game of teacher facts bingo (which our table; us, Mina's boyfriend, and a boy from her grade and his family, won), and music. The music was such an odd mix of really, really old songs, songs from our parents' generation, and newer stuff but it was so fun. All of us at one point were up and dancing with my sister and her friends and their parents and I've never danced with my daddy but we more than made up for it by prancing around to songs from Freddie Mercury's Berlin/disco years. My dad is a huge Queen fan so it was doubly perfect. After sending my sister out to celebrate with her friends, we happily, though tiredly (my mom and I were still jet-lagged) came back home.

So, my leetle seester is a big girl now and she's off to NYU in the fall. We'll probably visit each other if we can get off our lazy asses as it is only a four hour bus ride between New York and Boston. My poor mommy and daddy are going to be lonely without their delightful, and sometimes trying, daughters in the house. They should get a kitty! Not mine, even though Egg is so in love with my parents she practically drools all over herself in her excitement to get them to pick her up. They probably won't and hey, they will have our 13 year old turtle and our 3 month old goldfish to look after but they should have no worries. Family is forever, we'll never drift apart.

Deja Vu

I'm back to the black background, I kind of like this look better. And since I'm slowly moving from the tasks to a regular blog too I've added my boys Rob Halford and Bruce Dickinson to the header. I had some more Polyvore fun tonight and I have grand plans to recreate this outfit this winter. Maybe not exactly, but close enough. That's quite enough out of me for the past couple days, good night all.

Charlotte the Harlot by leylahamedi featuring Givenchy shoes

Task 3: Hanky Panky

Four posts in two days?? Most people would say their muse is back. I say mine never left, I think she just took some speed while on a caffeine high. I even have more ideas for re-writes for my scripts! I just need someone to physcially chain me down and make me write. That was the good thing about college and grad school; deadlines.

So, I decided that along with being brave and admitting all the stuff I believe and have faith in, I should speak up about another subject I tend to stay mum about. The subject of loooooove.

I've never been a "wild child," so to speak. I never terrorized my parents with my crazy teenage behaviour (though taking the minibus home from downtown at midnight might fall under this category but in comparison to others' actions at my age, I'd say that's tame sauce. Huh, I've never said that before. I don't know why I chose this moment to start), never acted like a floozy, never did drugs of any kind (beer doesn't count and I've smoked pot maybe two or three times in my entire life) hell, I've never even been sent to the principal's office. I think this is why I love reading groupie biographies so much, it's like a vicarious high. They got to sleep with rock stars and run around the world without care of consequence, and though I'm not the sort to ever do that, sometimes I get that twinge. It's somewhere between jealous and envious but not strong enough to qualify as either and definitely not strong enough for me to go out and do it. It's not me. But sometimes, I wish it was.

You see, I've only ever been in one real relationship; my current one. I've been with my Elliot for almost five years now and before this, besides the odd flirtation that may or may not have lead to a bit more (come now, I AM a lady, I ain't gonna write about everything), there was no one else. Don't get me wrong, I have the type of relationship I often feel smug about. He's my best friend, and was even before we were dating, and though we have so much in common we never stop finding more things to enjoy together. We're also individuals that have our separate tastes that may or may not go over with the other but it's nothing that ever becomes a huge issue. It's always a delight to hang out with him whether we're having a nice movie date or just relaxing in the apartment while he plays video games and I read. We have a balanced life together that includes a circle of mutual friends but also allows us to have our own friends and to keep being ourselves so that we don't succumb to the dreaded couple curse; becoming a "we."

So what's the problem you ask? Well, there is none. I am quite content and wouldn't trade us for anything. But I also feel like I'm missing out on stuff. On the whole dating and love trials that everyone else seems to go through. Yes, I know I'm pretty lucky so don't roll your eyes. I'm well aware of my, "unique" situation. I've never been cheated on and I never will be, because I trust my boyfriend completely and he should too (me, not himself). I've never had a broken heart in terms of a relationship, never had to endure any of those cliches like waiting by the phone for him to call, and never had to worry about "competition," from other girls. We're also a little different from other couples in that throughout our relationship, we've had to put up with being apart for long portions of time. He spent a semester in Istanbul while I was in Boston, he was working in Iraq while I was home, and we've celebrated each others' birthdays and our anniversaries probably only once or twice in the same location. Which doesn't really matter because neither of us particularly cares about that stuff other than to go, "Hey! It's been so long! Yay us!" and neither of wants to be with anyone else either and this whole notion of long-distance relationships not working is moot (and bullshit) because hey, look at us.

So again, what's the probelem? I guess it's just the notion of the grass is always greener. What would it be like to be with other people, physically, emotionally, etc? What would it be like to just be a brazen free spirit? I don't to find out, I assure you the thought of not having my Erriot as a friend, let alone a boyfriend, is enough to make me horribly depressed, but the brain wonders and wanders, so to speak.

It goes beyond just the relationship aspect of wondering though. It makes me wonder about my whole personality. Sometimes I think I'm just so plain and boring I should just crawl into bed and stay there. Others have had such amazing lives and journeys and I wonder if I'm just in this closed off shell? How can I want to be a writer when I don't have anything to write ABOUT? Most inspiration comes from experience; Pamela Des Barres' whole career comes from sleeping with Jimmy Page and Mick Jagger and then turning it into literary gold. What have I got to write about? "Today, I went to school. Then I went with Kit and Deniz and Destine to have nargile (hookah) and tea. And since it was a Friday, we reaaaally let loose and had ice cream as well." I'm not exaggerating, this was me in high school but even my three best friends did more than that. I'm not going to reveal their lives because that's none of anyone's business but honestly, why did I end up with the short end of the extremely boring stick in every aspect of my life?

But the thing is, I really wouldn't, even if given the option by some magic genie, change my life. I love my family and the people I'm surrounded by. I love my relatioship and love life. I adore my friends. I know this, and I know I wouldn't change this but that niggling voice at the back of my head is so fucking annoying sometimes and you can't really ignore that voice because it's YOUR voice so it knows exactly which buttons to push. When I read Julie and Julia I almost wept with happiness because the author was also like me. She was so like me. One boyfriend her entire life, close family, wanted to be a writer, hell we both even have polycystic ovaries. But then she goes and has a torrid affair and manages to publish two books! What. The. Hell. I don't want to have an affair! I don't want to whore around with rock stars because as much fun as that sounds (and that's part of the problem, it does sound fun) because let's face it, the rock stars I would sleep with are all way past their prime and probably infested with new undicovered varieties of herpes and hepatitis. But why do I still feel this way!? UNIVERSE ARE YOU LISTENING?

That's not to say I haven't had many adventures I particularly treasure. I did go to college after all. A partiuclar night comes into mind. Let's just say it involed a friend's birthday, a hotel room, and about 10 of us in various states of mind. My mom reads this so I will not elaborate but don't worry it was perfectly fine, harmless good time. See? Even when it should be off-the-wall and illicit and exciting, it isn't because oh hello, Leyla is involved. I used to write for a variety of music sources and got to interview some of my favorite bands so there's me chasing my music dreams (no I didn't sleep with them, it would be kind of hard seeing as how they were all phone interviews). But while everyone has lifetimes of stories, I have these tiny gems that I hold close to me.

But these are fleeting thoughts and I know I have more ahead of me, maybe I'm just a late bloomer? I fucking hope so. Besides, it's better to have a handful of really priceless gems than a whole collection of tarnished costume jewelry, if that metaphor makes any sense. And I know there are at least a few more adventures ahead for me and Elliot because our Japan trip deserves several sequels. I think we're going to Hong Kong next. I should just stop whining and be thankful for what I have or shut up and actually go after what I want but that's part of the problem. I don't know what I want and I don't want to be a disappointment to myself and others I care about. Right now I'm caught physically between Boston and Istanbul but I think it's mental too and I don't know how to decide because decisions are the bane of my existence and I always seem to make the wrong one. Like when I missed the screening of a biopic about my grandfather and with 2,000 people in attendance I was the only one not there. Everything good seems to come with a sour edge to it; I'm an official reader now but am underpaid and haven't been receiving any books and the money's not even enough to live on! We're moving past the "Hanky Panky" aspect of this task but I guess it's all connected. I'm afraid of missing out on anything. I'm only 24 but I feel my time is running out but I don't know what the countdown is for.

Screw it all, let's just go back to India. I miss you Rajasthan.

Task 24: Dress You Up

Task 24 was to get glammed up Hollywood style and go out. Well, what's more Hollywood glamourous than a film premiere? This was way back in February but I kept putting off writing about it and now it's June and I probably should stop procrastinating.

My mom's friend did the PR for a new movie that came out about Ataturk. She sent my mom tickets to the premiere and my mom gave them to me and my cousin Beril and we got all dressed up and attended and made it a night out. It was a pretty big event with photographers and the writer/director, actors, distinguished guests, other filmmakers, and about 2000 other people in attendance. I should probably explain who Ataturk is before I go on though.

Ataturk was the founder of modern Turkey and he introduced the new alphabet, language, modes of dress, and various other laws and principles that made Turkey the country it is today. Lately, these principles are getting put to the test as certain individuals are hell-bent on turning Turkey, to put it bluntly, into Iran by flaunting religious tactics that were outlawed in 1923. We are not in good shape right now. My grandfather has always been the strongest Ataturk supporter and his love of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk has been passed down to all of us. Mustafa Kemal was a great man and this might sound lame, but I honestly can't read or or watch anything about him without tearing up in pride and joy. Even occasionally thinking about him and allowing my mind to wander can make me get all choked up. He made my country the place I love and I hate how people are trying to warp his views and words to better suit their needs. I'm not going to go on a political rant but my views on this are iron; Mustafa Kemal Ataturk made Turkey the best it could be and no one else can compare to him. He had his reasons for everything he did and yes he had his faults too, he was human after all, but I firmly believe his actions pushed us to become the wonderful place and people we are today and those who stand against him are the enemy. Yes, the enemy. They represent the narrow-minded, ignorant, backwards-thinking jackasses who'll have us living up to the worst examples and stereotypes of Islamic folk. And I'm done.

Anyway, the film, Veda, was from the point of view of Ataturk's best friend Salih Bozok. It's in the form of a letter to his son and it takes place over the course of Ataturk and his life together; beginning when they were kids and Mustafa Kemal protected him from the wrath of a teacher and took a beating in his friend's place, to the day of his death November 10, 1938. It was quite well done with an excellent score and good actors. We, as a country, tend to take the melodramatic route especially in films and TV shows but this was an elegant biopic from start to finish. I had some problems with the casting as the actor playing his later, and most recognizeable, years looked nothing like him and they did not do a good job of aging his mother, Zubeyde Hanim. But otherwise, I really enjoyed it. I loved being in an audience who were as big Ataturk supporters as we were, who clapped when he was coming up with his laws during the birth years of Turkey (especially when he banned the headscarf and adopted modern dress), and when he danced the Sari Zeybek. Of course, when he died, my cousin and I were among the many who bawled. The entire film kept giving me goosebumps and making me beam in pride. Ataturk reminds me of my grandfather in some ways and I'm in awe of both of them in the same way. Watching his life and death is akin to watching someone I know personally live and die and it hit me hard right in the gut. He makes me proud to be Turkish and it was a night that made me reflect on that and the place my family has in our country. It was an honor to attend.

It was overall a very good night, but of course, since this is my life, it had it's element of extreme awkwardness and just plain wtf-ness. Before the film started, a young guy came and sat next to me. It was one of the few free seats left so I didn't think much of it but when the lights were dimming, he held out his hand asked me if I minded holding it throughout the film. Yes, a total stranger asked me to hold his hand for the duration of a two hour movie. Of course, my first thought was, "Augh our hands would get so sweaty!" but then the smarts kicked into action and I politely told him that that was very sweet but my boyfriend probably wouldn't appreciate that. He kind of harrumphed and withdrew his hand. At the same time my cousin, who couldn't quite hear what was going on, loudly told me to watch my bag. Heh, I guess she thought it was a diversionary tactic and then admitted she got all nervous thining what if they guy kept bugging me. Well, no worries of that. After sulking for ten minutes he got up and left and didn't come back.

What is my life sometimes?

Oh, I did get all glammed up though and we did go get dinner beforehand and flaunt our prettiness haha. I wore one of the Indian tunics I have that's embellished with gold thread and beads and is a beautiful turquoise-blue color and wore turquoise heels and made my make-up all fancy and colorful and had my hair half-pulled back and decorated with a gold flowery headband. Unfortunately, I don't have any good photos except these last minute photobooth pictures I took in my room and bathroom as I tried to get a good enough light.

Fashion! Turn to the left...

I know, I know, I keep saying I want to start a fashion blog but I just don't have the discipline to update with an outfit photo everyday like the awesome ladies I follow. They're really inspirational and make me wish I could do it but I don't think I can wangle that. Getting dressed is also a matter of inspiration for me. Some days I got it and some days, eh not so much. Plus, the last thing I want is to be photographed these days so I'm more likely to break a camera rather than smile for it. But, it's one of the tasks on my list and I would like to give something back to the bloggers I follow in return for the excellent daily readings they provide me with so I will get to it at some point and maybe keep it up as a once in a while thing rather than all the time. For now, here's an outfit I have planned for summer and one for when it gets cooler because I want to play with Polyvore and I love fall/winter and am already missing cold weather clothes. Damn the heat and humidity, I want my coats and scarves back. yes, I am odd like that. I just really hate hot weather.

I recently felt yearnings for that classic metal staple; the studded denim vest. My boyfriend supports my whims so he surprised me with the vest, it's a cropped Levis classic and is quite snug and flattering and I did the rest. The backpatch came down to a fight between a classic Motorhead patch or the viking metal band Ensiferum. In the end Ensiferum won out because I have fond memories of seeing them in Boston for free as I covered the New England Metal Festival for a magazine, and then riding on the Chinatown bus to NY with my Elliot and spending the weekend together with our best friend Rob and his family and seeing them again at the House of Blues. Motorhead will have to wait.

I had to put this Iron Maiden, Seventh Son... patch in the front because, well do I really need to explain? It's my Iron Maiden, I had the space, it's my first and favorite Maiden record, and the logo IS PINK.

Paired with the girly dress and the summer update of Converse sneakers, we have a pretty me outfit. Recently I keep picking that nail polish color when I get a manicure (and I thought it was an amazing coincidence that it was from OPI's India Collection and called Monsooner or Later) and I have this watch which is more pinky orange in real life than the picture and I've never really done this color but I feel it's summery, for me at least. And there you have it; girly, hints of metal and India, comfy shoes, and I'd probably even more jewelry-fy it and voila, classic me outfit when I'm feeling it.

Monsoon Summer by leylahamedi featuring Dahlia dresses

I splurged and got this Obesity and Speed sweatshirt as a sort of, "Hooray I am an official paid reader," reward for me (oh yeah, my internship ended and they've kept me on and now pay me per book). I love Obesity and Speed but managed to keep myself to only buying one t-shirt but I loved the image on this sweatshirt and after they sent me the free tote with it on it, I had to. My love of 80s heavy metal also lends itself to fashion sometimes because I can't help but like acid-wash, skin-tight jeans. This grey version kept calling to me. I don't have that elephant bangle, but I have several of the same ilk from India and I can't help but add some little India-love into every inspired outfit (and elephant love as I adore them) as well as metal-love with the Piece of Mind Vans. Chanel nail polishes are kind of crappy quality, despite the brand name, but I love this deep blue that actually is much darker on my nails and is a winter staple for me. Simple H&M t-shirt for some layering, and scarf for that little extra warmth needed when it's still not cold enough for full-on jackets and coats (fine, and I just love shawls and scarfs in general anyway), and this is a classic cold-weather uniform for me. The scarf, earrings and other jewelry will probably be switched up but I have a feeling this combination in particular will be heavily in rotation this year.

Is it Fall yet? by leylahamedi featuring BDG jeans

Telegram Sam

I'm back in Istanbul and spent the day at the mall with my mom, sister, aunt, and cousin. My other cousin, the aformentioned's brother, had his high school entry exam today (it's one of the most important exams in Turkey, if you do well you can apply to attend whatever high school you want), and after months of studying he's finally free. He thinks he's done very well, he got to go over the test afterwards, and to celebrate we all went out to eat. Afterwards, he and his dad left and us girls had the entire day to ourselves. I rarely go to malls and have never been in one for so long (8 hours, we ended up eating dinner at a restaurant there too) but we had a lovely time. I got some treats for me but oh God, some of the stuff in the designer section (it's regular huge mall on the one hand with a food court, but it also has various restaurants, cafes, and a separate courtyard with every big-name designer brand from Dior to Burberry, and our local department store has its designer corners as well) just made me go waaaant. Allow me to indulge my girly side for a bit.

I am a sucker for anything studded, sequined, beaded, basically anything that is loud and gets attention. Yes, I do love fur too. Not anything from the feline family as that's my personal choice, but rabbit, fox, mink? Let's just say my mom hates going to fancy stores with me in the winter because I wander off and rub my face on anything that looks vaguely soft. And if I could afford it, I totally would've gotten a limited edition crocodile skin Dior bag but 14,000$ for a bag is just silly. Looks good, but still silly. I refuse to get sucked into discussions about animal cruelty because no, I do not agree with the way animals are treated, hell I love animals, more so than people. But I just never have had anything against fur or leather and hey, I eat animals it would hypocritical of me not to wear them. I know I sound rather crass and unfeeling, especially for a self-proclaimed animal lover but fur coats remind me of being little and watching my mom and/or my grandmother go out on cold nights. I remember one night, my parents left me with a friend's kids and I fell asleep there and when they came to get me on that bitterly cold night, they just let me stay in my pajamas and my mom wrapped me up in her fur and we went home all snug. I will never stop thinking of fur as anything but an elegant look for ladies. I mean, there are furs I personally wouldn't wear, or particularly like. There is a scene in the Ewan McGregor motorcycle trip show where he watches a group of Russian hunters trap and kill a bear and skin it right there. That made me cringe and kind of avoid watching the action for a while. I could go on and try to defend my views but eh, I don't owe it to anyone and I digress. Where was I? Oh, I like loud things. These are the treasures I lusted over today.

Givenchy booties

Marc Jacobs shoulder bag

Louboutin sneakers
I've never been cheap when it comes to anything or anyone, except for myself. I adore buying gifts and always feel they're worth their cost because I put a lot of care and thought into them and know whomever I give them to will appreciate it. But I can't justify spending so much money on just "things," when it's for me. Sure, a pair, two pairs, of shoes are a good investment, as is a good bag (are you listening Marc Jacobs? YOUR BAGS ARE POORLY MADE. I HAVE TWO AND THEY ARE BOTH MALFUNCTIONING AND ONE IS BASICALLY UNUSABLE AND YOUR CUSTOMER SERVICE DEPARTMENT SUCKS AND I WANT OTHERS BUT KNOW I SHOULDN'T SO STOP BREAKING MY HEART WITH YOUR SHODDY WORKMANSHIP.) but not every item in my wardrobe is, or ever will be, designer. Hell, sometimes I like the cheap imitation leather bags at Urban Outfitters more (though I do have a nice but small collection of name-brand bags because I am a bag lady and they're my birthday gifts from my sometimes too indulgent family). But it's nice to window shop every once in a while and even nicer to give in and buy. I guess that's why fashion and shoes and bags and jewelry will never be considered art and are often scoffed at as being too frivolous; the cost vs. the item is just hard too comprehend sometimes. What's the point of spending so much money on something when you can get the same for an eight of the price somewhere else? Or make it yourself as I will be with an old pair of Converse sneakers and leftover studs. I'd like to sit down and organize my thoughts on this (and touch back on the issue of fur) and see if I can explain why "designer" means so much and at the same time nothing, without sounding too self-contradictory but that's for another day and probably not for a blog entry.

I did however, get myself a treat today. These are crappy photobooth pictures/


His name is Telegram Sam. Because he's a T. Rex. Get it? Yeah, I'm a dork. Mina and I just call him Moe though. More updates on the Like A Muse Project coming this week, sorry for being a slacker have a dominatrix Madonna for your troubles.