#also I fucking loved learning about how my first graphic job (printing) came to be

[gothneighbor]

Doing the course eval for the basics class: yeah it was fine. The physical projects kinda sucked. (Forgets to mention how making videos also sucked)

Doing the course eval for the history class: FUCKING LOVED IT. NO NOTES. 1000/10 CANT WAIT FOR NEXT SEMESTER IM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH

[sassypotatoe1]

I've always been like this too when I was 11 and 12 I worked in the school library, and only 12/13 year olds were technically allowed to work the computer, and covering and labeling new books as well as collection rounds and laminating files were the teacher's responsibility because children can not be trusted typically, except I was a crazy perfectionist and since the first grade my mom and I have been covering and labeling my school books and folders together at the start of the year, every year.

So one day the teacher asks me, 11 at the time and the only "staff" available in that moment, to laminate a few posters for her class while she graded some tests. She wasn't worried about me fucking it up because it didn't have to be perfectly straight, just all within the laminate sheet and not crumpled, but then it was perfectly straight. All 16 sheets. And so laminating became my responsibility at 11 years old for 2 years, because I could do it neater than the teacher herself. She charged R2 (like 10% of a Usd) per sheet and I got 30c of that for my labor. I had like 80 bucks by the end of the two years and learned a lot about basic debtors and creditors sheets keeping track of the payments from teachers and students laminating their shit and the cost of new orders of pockets.

Given how neat my laminating was, when I was 12 and the book fair came to the school, and the teacher acquired about 50 new books, I was responsible for covering and labeling them, because at that point I also had the Dewey decimal system down pat and knew exactly, without having to be told, how to label the books. I've forgotten it completely since but I suspect if I just scanned through it again I'd remember it all. I also figured out the electronic checking system in like an instant, by watching the teacher use it, so I was given early access to the system and checking books out and in.

So little preteen me was basically a fully qualified librarian at that point, and I rode that high all throughout my teens, taking jobs with school admin during school holidays, doing graphic design, printing, laminating, filing and organizing. All unpaid of course but I didn't care I LOVED it and I was GOOD at it, and if my disabilities ever catch up to me I would be perfectly happy and content working in the local library at the checkout counter or as a secretary.

I also got involved in office drama really young imagine a 13 year old student at your school is there for the holidays because their parents couldn't get off work or a babysitter and got bored and asked if they could help you in the office, and you're like yeah whatever I'm swamped, and this kid just whips up the design for the next prestige evening's certificates in between tasks, and the school uses it, and then you're bitching about Susan in accounting refusing to release budget for an order of printing paper and said 13 year old goes "oh I know right? One time I had to ask her for" and continues with an insane story about Susan from accounting and suddenly you have a gossip buddy... In a 13 year old student from your school who got bored and wanted to help out.

I ended up becoming a journalist for, hopefully, obvious reasons but teacher or librarian were top contenders at one point, and I think I'd make a great one of either of those if journalism doesn't work out for me.

[owlmylove]

I love your fashion sense and obviously it's not something you deal with yourself but I was wondering what you would suggest for someone who is pretty fat to kind of clean up their look because I mostly wear like graphic tees and like my nicest trousers are a pair of plain boot cut jeans lmao

Thank you so much for your kind words darling!! But, before you get too entrenched in the quicksand of comparison, I actually have dealt with that precise scenario. Multiple times to be honest, and while I’m fortunate enough to be able to find fitted clothes more easily than a few of my friends, I’m still bigger than most of them and have always been very aware of that growing up. There have been periods of my life (including right now tbh, #quar) where the function and comfort of my clothes has become overshadowed by the frustration and low-level embarrassment they inspire

That doesn’t mean the clothing is bad, or I was silly to wear it previously. It just means I’m changing, and so are my tastes. You can love your graphic tees and still want to try fancier pants on for size, and that’s all okay! Don’t let hyper-consumptive disposable culture try to guilt you into despising anything you may have once enjoyed, or been comforted by. Like foods, there’s no such thing as good or bad clothing. It’s just finding the clothes that fill your current needs and make you feel as good as you deserve.

BUT you came for fashion advice and fashion advice you shall HAVE babe. for cinematic purposes, please picture the following advice as a voiceover to our dressing room montage scene as i throw hangers over the door & applaud every time you do a lil catwalk spin

1. Fuck trends. They’re bullshit!! Unless you sincerely like the look of something and feel good in it, don’t fall into the trap of needing to wear the newest spring/summer anything. There’s nothing wrong with trying out a new style, but always remember the clothes’ job is to fit you; you don’t need to fit the clothes. If something doesn’t feel comfortable, or flattering, or right, that’s a failing on behalf of the clothing (and, most often, the designers’ limited understanding of the human body) and never on you.

2. Try stuff! I highly recommend trying on absolutely anything you have the faintest interest in*, trends included. Also: things you never in a million years would’ve tried on, but a friend/partner/random telepath recommended for you. It can be frustrating when things don’t work out, but that just teaches you something about what does and doesn’t work for you. Don’t think of your fashion sense as a pass/fail test, but a language you’re gaining fluency in. Learning what doesn’t work for your body can be as helpful as what does.

*Sidenote: This can be tricky in quarantine, but try online stores with free shipping/returns, and/or local stores that you can breeze through for returns. At-home try-ons also allows you to compare what you already have & see how new pieces could be incorporated into your wardrobe.

3. Learn your type. I hate categories of any kind but fuck me, my body type actually does serve as a helpful guideline for what does and doesn’t work on me. For instance: I’ve been wearing exclusively high waistbands for the last, oh, 6 years, bc I wanted to contain my lovely soft stomach and delineate my waist. But this actually just cuts me in half like a magician’s assistant, and I counterintuitively look better in one-piece swimsuits and un-tucked (but fitted!!) shirts. Hence: learn your body type, research what works for your body type, and try some of what they recommend. 

3.1. Break the rules. Anarchism baby!!! Everyone knows that learning the rules is the first step to breaking them. Research what science says is supposed to look good, but also trust your intuition on what you feel good in. Datasets can’t allow for individual tastes, and that’s where real fashion comes from (rather than just algorithmic minimalist capsule wardrobes)

4. Look for patterns. Obviiiiiiiously not just in prints (though I’m weak for stripes and polka dots, everyone around me is well aware) but in the cut, drape, and construction of what you love. Breaking down the elements of what brings you joy helps you recognize more of it out in the wild. But think about function too! What do you like and dislike about the fit of your shirts? Do you like the flair of boot cut jeans? Hate their length? Which elements of construction would you like to avoid in the future, and which would you like to see more of?

5. Find inspiration. If you don’t already have a sense of what you do and don’t want to add to your wardrobe, try giving Pinterest and/or moodboards a whirl. Look to people whose style you admire (and try Instagram [but avoid the identical influencer mill], Pinterest, cool Etsy boutique owners, etc). Compare their builds as an artist might, focusing not on comparative aesthetics but form. Do they use certain waistlines that would complement yours? What about colors? Finding someone with your exact body type & coloring can be extremely difficult depending your race and size, but you may be able to find influences who can guid you in one regard but not the other. Let them help you learn what you love without limiting you to just one style.  

6. Go (bargain) hunting. I maintain some things are worth spending money on — facial moisturizer, a tailored white button down, and well-fitted pants to be precise — but I almost exclusively shop clearance racks. If you’re still in the process of figuring out what you do and don’t like, there is something to be said for starting with inexpensive brands as training wheels. Discount stores like Marshalls can yield a lot of good stuff, while Etsy, resale platforms, and thrift stores can do the same for relatively low prices (and yield some p. unique pieces.) Once you know the silhouette, colors, and cuts you enjoy, that’s when I recommend investing in a $100 pair of jeans that you know will serve you for years.

Finally: Once you have a collection of things you love, experiment with them! Try them on in different combinations, add a hat, try different earrings, etc. etc. As you settle into your new wardrobe, new outfit formulas will emerge that you know you can rely on in the rushing, early mornings without feeling stressed by the question “what do I wear???” (honestly, the biggest unsung benefit of a good wardrobe is just the decrease in anxiety)

Also: I recommend looking for pieces you love first and foremost, rather than entering the fray with a shopping list of “gray blazer, navy blazer, white shirt, black shirt,” etc. Not to say I don’t own each of those basics (which are good to have!) but those kinds of Pinterest minimalist capsules work best for instant-professionalism sans personality. If that’s you need, go for it! But if you’re excited to develop your sense of style, give yourself the time and space to discover what brings you joy. Learning your tastes should be an ongoing experiment throughout life. Don’t let previous ensembles dictate future purchases (unless they’re inspiring them!!)

And, for what it’s worth, I actually still have a bunch of the graphic tees I was once so embarrassed of wearing when I was younger. And for what? They were comfortable, convenient, and expressed what I was passionate about at the time. The ones I really loved, even if I no longer fit into, still make me so happy as records of the person I was. I think taste and selves grows outward, like the rings of a tree, and there’s nothing wrong with remembering your roots c: 

Excessive tree pun alert, and sorry for being sappy, but I hope this rambling love letter to style could help! I’m sending you all the fairy godmother energy I am capable of from afar darling<333

[laputaindefrenchgirl]

may we meet again.

I was confused. I am confused. Words fumbling around my head while a turmoil of emotions make me both want to cry and close my walls towards my own self. I’ve been there I think, but I forgot. I’ve been told that I am over sensitive, and that’s not an insult, far from that. It’s okay to not be okay. 

I am 24 and constantly evolving and digging into myself to find something greater. 

The past two weeks were, confusing. I mean- when the Academy of the Oscars follows you on Instagram, but at the same time, someone the closest to you hurts you the deepest. 

My scale to the fucking worst to the fucking extraordinary is broken. 

I never lived normal, probably never will. How do you know then? How can I expect my life to be average, safe, bliss when everything I’ve encountered (through the worst and the best), is nothing but normal?

Last week-end, I met precious souls. I went to We Are Grounders 2, a convention dedicated to The 100, held by Royal Events in Toulouse (France). I met Eliza Taylor, Ricky Whittle, Lindsey Morgan and Christopher Larkin, (though there were also Jessica Harmon and Rhiannon Fish but we didn’t really properly met). I’m having a hard time writing about this week-end. Did I mention I was confused? Yep.

The thing is, I feel lonely. I’ve been feeling this way for a few years now, I can see that just be reading my previous posts. It has its ups and downs. I found a way to work through it. Lots of amazing people told me it was okay to feel this way, and that someway, it was a chance to get to know myself, to work harder.

I know. Easier said than lived sometimes, tho.

First, I met Ricky Whittle on saturday. The guy is basically the sun. He has a very kind aura, lot of charisma and seems genuinely happy to do his job as an actor, and be there for his fans. I just felt like I gave him as much as I received from him. When we met, I gave him a small print from my art which I framed, and basically he hold it in his hands and looked at it without saying anything for like 30 seconds, which was so freaking long okay. I blurted hesitantly “Do you like it?” and he replied “Yes, I’m just impressed.” #relieved haha. He is easy to talk to, always smiling. I felt just happy by hearing him talking about his upcoming show, American Gods. I was happy he was happy. That’s how great the guy is. 

Then I met Eliza Taylor, and she’s so kind and easy to go. She represents something very strong to the fandom, and she does it so well. We exchanged a few words on saturday and she told me her mom is a graphic designer. I met Lindsey Morgan, so radiant and beautiful Lindsey. Before leaving the con on sunday’s night, she came to me and said to never let go of my art. That was really thoughtful of her. I will hold the last words she said to me very dear to my heart.

Also, one of the best met from this week-end was Lanie, she’s one the manager from IDDS, and she said it herself “we’re soul sisters”. We have literally so many things in common, from wearing Wildfox to having a Mad Max obsession, and her dream is to do a photoshoot with Project Mermaids. Lanie is bubbly and sweet, I loved to get to know her even it was only for two days. She told me “Your art is what I hope my soul looks like.” and it made me so happy.

I felt understood, and my kinda art useful, meaningful.

On saturday, I decided to take an autograph with Christopher Larkin, and that was just a moment I’m not close to forget. When I entered the room for the autograph, he was smiling and super nice. We exchanged a few words, I gave him one of my small art printed too, and he said he would definitely put it in his bedroom. But then, the conversation someway changed and his words struck a chord in me. For some reason, he spoke about loneliness, and not in a sad way, far from that. It did confuse me because, even though I feel the way I feel, I was all smile and confidence at this precise moment. He said “It’s a great thing to be lonely, you’ll learn a lot about yourself in these moments.” and I was even more confused. I left the room, wondering why did he said this? I understood the meaning laced underneath his words, which was okay weirdly.

On sunday’s night I had an appetizer with the cast, and I found myself sitting between Lanie and Christopher. I was shy at first, but then thought “fuck it” and told Christopher that what he told me in the morning had me very confused but that at the same time that it was extremely spot on. He laughed, and then we had one of the best conversation I’ve ever had. 

We were total strangers talking about life, its ups and downs, and why we were never ever giving up. 

I know life is full of surprises and disappointments. But I really didn’t expect to heart words from a stranger that hard. It felt natural, talking about such personal stuffs. Chris asked me if I could show him more of my art, and I did. 

He thanked me for showing it to him, which was unbelievable, “Man, thanks to you!”. It was really nice to just sit there and talk about my works, explain how I started drawing, why I was so keen on being a creative. He told me he loved making music, and even if he wasn’t sure about it that it felt great creating something. I completely understood that. I asked him, “Are you happy?” and he said “Yes, but it’s still work in progress.” ; again, I get this. We tend to over think everything and anything. We’re our own enemies. But when you keep going, as far as you can, then something happens and it feels just right. Having this conversation was like a breath of fresh air. 

Then came the time to leave, and he stopped and hugged me, before saying “Thank you for this conversation, it’s so rare.”

I didn’t know what to answer. I answered simply thank you, and left with a smile, feeling strong and hopeful all over again. I found myself back.

Lanie told me “We need more girls like you.” and I felt empowered. It’s tiring on the daily to be ourselves and yet- to handle all the shit thrown our way. It’s hard to feel that fierce pull, to know racists, misogynist assholes and try to be polite in front of them. I don't hold back that much and try to use my voice to be better person, make the world I live in a little lighter, shiny and nicer. So yeah, these kind of feedbacks are so important to me, to hear that I’m on the right path.

Things are hard, they were once too, and probably will be again. YOU are here to create something. Maybe it’s not even for you. But it’s here and that’s your job to keep going in order to reach something greater. Don’t lose hope.

#audreytheartiste

[hellobarbarellauniverse]

Starting from scratch...at 31

When you feel like you’ve faced it all and it can only get better from here. But it doesn’t.  I was fully aware that all new beginnings are hard but I was not ready for this. The months of July and August had me bent over, staring blankly at walls in rooms that were not mine to keep, crying, wanting to give up and go home, not knowing if I have enough money for food, wanting to keep fighting because I have always pushed through no matter what, feeling alone, feeling thankful for my friends and feeling hungry. But mostly, feeling depressed. After victoriously returning from my 4 months in Longreach thankful that I have made it back with no major injuries (well, I did loose a toe nail but that’s a small price to pay) I imagined that just like everywhere else in the world I was living before, I will land a job easily. Finally get this Australian dream going. Get a car, start surfing, live in a cool shack. After all, I did suffer enough, right? I have the motivation, I have the experience, I have the skills. Let’s do this. Man was I wrong. Noosa is a paradise. It is also a spot where everyone from Australia and overseas wants to live so the competition is crazy. If you don’t have your own business or a history here, your options are pretty much hospitality or tourism. If you are not a certified barista (like everyone beyond the age of 16 seems to be) or a knowledgeable cocktail barman, there is the option of waitressing (if you can gracefully carry at least three full plates and casually entertain your posh guests). If none of those apply, plus you are an immigrant (”What visa are you on? Oh, sorry, we don’t really like that.”), there are the options of dishwashing or cleaning the resorts. I shrugged at that thought, thinking never-ever-ever will I sink this low. I did not come all the way here to wash dishes or scrub toilets (which I will learn later is not all that bad when your account is cleaned out).

Long story short, I have spent two months looking for a job. It does have a (hopefully) happy ending, but I am certainly not there yet.

To avoid being too pathetic, these are just few moments and things I have learnt along the way. I thought it would be good to have them somewhere in case I should get too comfortable with life again. 

I have moved five times during two months. I was living with a girl that pretended I am not really there and watched cheesy American teenage shows and stupid movies way too loud. For someone who needs their own space to keep their sanity this was also the time when I got that psychically unstable that I made myself sick and ended up projectile vomiting a whole night through. Holding on to a glass in my bed at the end of that madness because I was too weak to run to the toilet and there was not enough liquid in me worth making it all the way anyway. I think I was suppressing the stress both from my living situation and being unemployed and running out of money.  I was told that I should stop hoping that I will get a normal job and should go stocking the shelves in supermarket. Apparently, that is the “price you pay when you’re living the Noosa lifestyle”. I would be spending hours filling in the applications for dream jobs in Melbourne and updating my LinkedIn. And 5 minutes later, I would be compiling an excited cover letter saying why I am the right candidate to clean rooms in resorts. Which never worked out anyway because I “don’t have the right resort cleaning experience”. I did not know that there is a special technique to scrub the toilet but OK, fair enough.

At one point, I considered packing my stuff and fleeing to Melbourne since I thought there must be more job opportunities, also in my field. I did not go through with it as I did not have enough savings to get me going not even the first month and I couldn’t go through this all over again. Plus Melbourne in winter is misery.  I received the best feedback from a dream job application to a conceptual design studio in Melbourne saying that “as we are looking for a candidate with around 5-6 years of experience, we did feel that your background was not yet extensive enough to fulfill the needs of this role, though given your enthusiasm and work history so far, I am sure in time you would grow into the perfect fit.” I did not get this job, but I was given hope that a) being foreign does not necessarily disqualify you b) I have got what it takes to apply for these kind of ambitious jobs. 

This made it so much harder trying to understand why none of my applications and walk-ins in Noosa were successful. Not even a freaking job in a shitty restaurant! OK, I was a bit selective but what’s the point of living in Australia when you slave away in an Indian joint? I basically begged for jobs, saying that anything would work for me. 

At this point, your whole persona starts to slowly fade. The self-esteem and believing in your skills are gone. 

I have spent a few nights on a couch with friends, depending on them to feed me, cheer me up and keep me going. Bless them. I have moved to another room that belonged to a surfer dad with a small child who is surfing in South America at the moment and was kind enough to rent me his own room. I have photos of his son next to my bed. I have shoved all toys, kids books, Lego castles and other random shit into shelves and under the bed, as I couldn’t see myself living 5 weeks in a room of a bachelor without losing my mind again.  The Lego castles went, the fleas came. The fat grumpy cat George infested the whole house with fleas. Me and the two other girls living here have dozens of bites all over our bodies as the fleas have spread from George to all the carpets and rooms and thrive. When I finally forced the girls to clean and flea bomb the whole house after days in agony we washed George and pulled (I’m not kidding) what would have been close to 300 fleas out of him. I fucking hate living with cats. And since I was the only one following the requested routine to keep cleaning for the next 14 days, they are back. I will be out. I got excited that I can exhibit my photos from Longreach during the Horizon Underground festival. I got so excited because I love this project and I want to go places with it. It’s the first project I truly believe in. Then the curator shut me down claiming that “ he thought that they were not significantly linked to the other material planned for display ”. The other material next door was an exhibition about how we perceive death. I guess my raw images of dead lambs and dingos hanging from sign posts are not a very obvious link. All right then, I will find a more suitable place. I don’t have the money for prints anyway.  I am an occasional babysitter. I am not that person who thinks kids are cute and uses silly kids language. I think I was not too bad with Izzie, she is a cool kid. Until her sleeping time when she realized both her mum and dad took off to Splendid in Grass festival and I was afraid the neighbours will call the child protective services hearing her agonised screams “Mommy! Mooooomy” for almost half an hour before I gave up and rocked her to sleep again (what killed my back a bit). Or that moment when aa old lady asked me on a playground “How old is your girl?” and I replied “Dunno, 15 months?” :D 

I can hardly talk about living healthy as I am far from buying all good stuff I would like to have including fresh veggies, smoothies, quinoa salads with feta and such. Meat-what? One positive thing is that I have hardly touched sugar as I’d rather buy an apple or bread than a chocolate stick. When you have budget of 10 bucks and are hungry, you weigh your options carefully. It’s actually fun looking back at my emotional rollercoaster. I am also surprised I am not in an institution yet. Here is where I would like to thank my loyal friends (you know who you are) that let me pour my heart out and keep me going. JULY 11 Homeless and living out of my suitcase again. Squatting at Anna’s before moving in to Andy’s. JULY 12

Hi Barbara yes I would like you to exhibit in the green room at the old Ambo and to be on our volunteer staff during Horizon. Publicity! Please someone buy my prints. I got invited for the interview from the mysterious graphic design studio in Noosa that had no info on who they are but their requirements matched my skills perfectly!

JULY 13

I think I can’t make it anymore. JULY 18

Interview with Jaxon and Megs from Clandestino Roasters. Not so casual as expected, they made me sweat with tasks questions and “tell us something about yourself” questions. Somewhere along 50 minutes into the interview I gave up and pulled out my Longreach card. I really want to work for them, such lovely people and such a cool company. JULY 24

I think I’m done. I have no money, I am in debt back home, I owe money to my friends. I have no job. I eat the same breakfast (on a good day it is the same ritual of adding a quarter of an apple, stolen honey and three almonds to muesli, on a bad day it’s a discounted bread with butter). I am not buying basic things. I have no insurance in case something happens. I have no car. I ride Anna’s bike. I take buses together with school kids that don’t have a drivers license yet and an old guy with a catheter coming from his private parts that is ducktaped to his thigh who smells like lemongrass air refresher (I’m guessing to cover the smell of urine). I think it’s time to think about giving up and flying back.

JULY 25 Jaxon called me and offered me the job! Starting August 14. Hallellujah!!! Things might be happening! FAKE IT TILL YOU MAKE IT. Happy but still broke. I went to a bottle shop go buy prossecco to celebrate it but then I realized I got no money. But I still wanted to celebrate. So I bought myself a body lotion instead, since I haven’t had one for a couple of weeks considering it a luxury. I might be broke but I’ll be smooooooooth.

JULY 26 The worst 8 hours shift at Skal cafe that left me thinking that hospitality (especially busy bistros) might not be my thing after all. Too many orders, zero training, too much stress and no lunch break. I was bugged. Since my first interview with Kelly, I had two trial shifts of 3 hours and this shift. I still don’t have a definite answer if I have the job. I am starting to think that building doors in a factory is the way of less resistance.  JULY 27 I might have a job on the horizon but it’s only 2 days weekly which will not give me enough to cover my basic needs. And I want the luxury to have the insurance if I ever go to the ocean on a board again. I keep looking.

JULY 28

I wrote my artist statement. It is taking shape. When does this end and I can finally eat like a normal person and sleep without having nightmares of how much money I already owe. JULY 29

Brankos B-day bonanza. Fun. Patrick told me that they hired someone for the factory job who had a forklift license. That’s out of the window too then.

...........

August is a bit of everything. I keep being broke, I need to move out by 16th (somewhere), I had to turn down offers from friends to rent out cool places because I have no idea if I can pay the rent. But I also started this job this week and some of it is just too good - I feel like a person again and I am doing what I love to do. I also have an occasional cleaning gig. It least Donna talks to me like I am a person and not just a cleaner. The highlight of this week was meeting that local who was sending me to go pack carrots at night at Cole’s and telling her how much I love working for one of the coolest family businesses in Noosa while she snorted that she has to go to a staff meeting at a bar.