#narcisse magazine

[knittinganddrinkingtea]

Emily DiDonato by David Roemer for Narcisse Magazine Issue 6

[celebratingwomen]

Charlotte Lawrence for Narcisse magazine, 2023

[unes23]

Daphne Groeneveld for Narcisse Magazine by Aingeru Zorita

[redcarpet-streetstyle]

[fashionfotos]

[fashion-boots]

Boots by Juunj

Joan Smalls by David Roemer for Narcisse Magazine, Issue #7 2017.

[houseofbrat]

https://twitter.com/UKRoyalTea/status/1658985098492928000

This is so brilliant given how much media is based in NYC. 

Everyone can send reporters to verify footage all over town.

[alpojones]

[inspirednarcissus]

Joseph Bach in Narcisse by Julie Marie Gene Gobelin for Bizart Magazine.

[notinlove]

Eartheater for Narcisse magazine

[knittinganddrinkingtea]

Emily DiDonato by David Roemer for Narcisse Magazine Issue 6

[celebratingwomen]

Tinashe for Narcisse Magazine

[modelsof-color]

Nyajuok Kueth by Carla Coste for Narcisse Magazine Issue 13

[heavenlyyshecomes]

misc readings pt. 11

tech edition

It's not your fault you're a jerk on twitter, katherine cross, wired

Becoming human again: a reading list for the extremely offline, lisa bubert, longreads

The internet is rotting, jonathan zittrain, the atlantic

ambient cruelty, linda besner, real life magazine

Searching for lost knowledge in the age of intelligent machines, adrienne lafrance, the atlantic

Ghosts of the future: the smart home is a haunted house, julia foote, real life magazine

The internet is flat, charlie warzel, galaxy brain

How TrueCaller built a billion-dollar caller ID data empire in India, rachna khaira, rest of the world

Vivid hues: what does it mean to think of the internet as a color? anna rose kerr, real life magazine

Singapore’s tech-utopia dream is turning into a surveillance state nightmare, peter guest, rest of the world

The $2 per hour workers who made chatgpt safer, time

I cut the 'big five' tech giants from my life. It was hell, kashmir hill, gizmodo

Social media is not self-expression, rob horning, the new inquiry

The narcissism of queer influencer activists, jason okundaye, gawker

On losing perspective, or, why i don't give a fuck about geronimo the alpaca and nor should you, rachel connolly, novara media

The exploited labour behind artificial intelligence, noema

The class politics of the instagram face, grazie sophia christie, tablet

Google, amazon, and meta are making their core products worse on purpose, ed zitron, business insider

All advertising looks the same these days. Blame the moodboard, elizabeth goodspeed, eye on design

Seen by, megan marz, real life

[cwgl418]

My mother taught me English on her own until I was 6. We used an English learning program called: “World Family”. It was an interesting program. Filled with songs, videos, and colorful textbooks to learn from.

Each of them had different levels. And if I pass the test, I could move on to a different level and I’ll receive a cap as an reward.

My mother told me, “We were learning English very optimistically when you were a toddler.” But I don't have any memories about that. The only thing I remember, is that she would yell at me, constantly.

Why? Because I couldn't remember the meaning of a word.

She would yell at me for the smallest things, I feel like her yelling could be heard for all of the neighborhood. And when she gets extremely mad, she would lock herself up in her room. I would cry and write an apology letter to her.

She would never hit me, she never did. Because she thought it was cruel and wrong. But what made this abuse worse was when she told me “That's enough, I'm going to move to New York and leave you.”

I knew my mother loved New York. It was her obsession. But she would never actually leave me, right?

Until I couldn't find her.

I panicked. I thought to myself, “Did she actually leave me? Is she really gone?” I searched for my mother, but she was nowhere to be seen.

So I took my grandmother into the night, being piggybacked by her, and searched for my mother.

I did find her eventually, I suppose she was just in somewhere in the house and I just happened to missed her presence.

Nobody remembers this. Not my grandmother, not even my mother. They think I made it up. I'm the only one who remembers.

Do I like English? I used to think I do. Because that's what I excel at. I even majored in English. But the truth is, I don't. It’s just my way to communicate.

Then why did I continued to learn English, you say? Because I was a fighter. I didn't wanted to just quit. My mother used to yell at me, “Then why don't you just quit?!” when I said, “I don't like this!”. But then I’ would yell back at her and reply, “No! I WANT to continue!” and that's why I didn't quit.

I graduated this program when I was 6 years old.

My mother wrote on the graduation paper magazine, that “They had moments when they cried and tried to quit, but they managed.” or something alongside that.

It's gone now, but I vividly remember reading that. That was my only evidence for my child abuse.

The thing is that, I was so proud of my English level. I was constantly being praised by my classmates and my teachers. I thought no one, no one could beat me with my English. Even the students who lived abroad would ask me, “Have you ever lived abroad?”

And oh, I loved that moment so much. I felt like I was the superior one.

However, I was such an anxious, shy child. I was always alone. I tried and make friends and have a conversation through my art. But I was always so anxious. When my teachers told me to make a pair or a group, I always ended up being alone. And then I would feel so guilty and think, “Oh no, I've intruded them. I know they don't want me in their group…”

But the moment when someone praises me for my art and English, I felt so proud, it almost felt like my personality completely changes when it came to something I excel at. Looking back, I was being so narcissistic. Maybe not as extreme as Narcisstic Personality disorder, but my narcissism was definitely there.

I wonder, how could these two personalities co-exist? But they did for so so long.

One day, in my adulthood, my mother told me, “The reason why I wanted to teach you English was because I had an English complex. I pushed my dreams onto you, and I'm sorry.” I didn't accepted her apology.

Do I hate her? Yes. But do I love her? Also yes.

I don't understand why I feel this way. My love and hate relationship of her is so so complicated.

At one hand, I don't forgive her for what she made me face. But then, I don't even dream about it or have nightmares about it. I barely remember my childhood. So does it even count as trauma? Does it count as abuse? I would constantly think and wonder.

And then there's part of me, that I'm obsessed with her. I would kiss her on the cheeks and hug her every single day. I would even age regress when I'm around her. I wonder if it's some form of trauma response.

I did read a similar experience in “My Lesbian Experience in Loneliness” by Nagata Kabi though.

I'm disabled and mentally ill. I have autism, OCD, Social Anxiety, insomnia, and Bipolar II disorder. I do wonder time to time it is the result of my abuse.

My mother is so overprotective about me because of that. She always try and do stuff for me since she loves to be in charge, but I feel like she overdid a lot. And the lack of experience makes me feel anxious when I try something new and legal, because I don't know how to act and where to start.

But on the other hand, I do feel like I'm safe with her and I’d rather stay with her and make her do everything for me since I don't even know what to do on my own.

Part of me is saying, “Lilith, you should leave her and try and live on your own and prepare to live without a family.” but the other part is saying that “No, Lilith. You need to keep depending on her. You don't even know what to do on your own. And what about your precious stuff? There wouldn't be any space.” My mind is conflicted.

I feel like I'm obsessed with my mother too much. But I do hate her for what she's done. And I do hate her some times how she tries and brush off her past abuse to me. So why do I keep staying with her? Why am I so obsessed with her? Why can't I be independent?

So I ask myself again, “Why do I hate and love my mother?”

I will never not know.

[mysewingadventures]

Making the ✨Lioncourt Gown✨ (Part 2/4)

I'm glad I started making this gown early because things... have not exactly been going according to plan.

In my last post I mentioned I had ordered some satin tape for the color details, but yesterday my order suddenly got canceled and I couldn't find tape anywhere. I scowered the entire internet for some 10mm ivory satin bias tape but I got absolutely nothing. Finally, I decided to settle for 15mm and now I'm waiting for that to arrive and crossing my fingers it won't get canceled again.

In the meantime, I've been left to do minor work on everything else, but wasn't really able to actually make much progress because I can't do anything before I apply that tape. I sewed the boning channels on the inside of the bodice and put some boning in (artificial baleen - I used to use cable ties for this but the artificial baleen is just much softer and easier to cut/work with).

I also attempted to make a sleeve pattern by altering a sleeve pattern I found in The Voice of Fashion (a compilation of magazines with sewing patterns from the turn of the century. Highly recommend if you're into that time period!). Now, as I've probably mentioned in every other post of mine, I absolutely suck at making sleeves so this was the only way it could turn out somewhat okay, so I made the pattern, made a mock-up to make sure it fit and also because I couldn't afford to waste any of the black base fabric, and once I was happy with it I cut it out of the black fabric with the help of my lovely assistant.

Maybe I should mention that my assistant is rarely helpful, but we're a family business, what can I say.

Then I drew a line down the center of the sleeve along which I was going to lay the color details and then went to cut them out. Once again, a super tedious process that took me about two to two and a half hours just to cut out 32 individual triangles. But towards the end, i started to get the hang of it and was able to do it faster. Maybe the skirt details won't be as tedious now, hopefully (who am I kidding it's going to be hell).

I also decided to make a little detail I would add to the bodice later. It just felt right to inscribe the name of the gown (and its original wearer in a way) with fancy letters, because it just wouldn't be a gown inspired by Lestat without a touch of narcissism, now, would it?

This morning, my skirt fabric was finally delivered! I was worried the color was going to be too bright but it's this perfect terracotta shade that I was looking for! I'm always a little wary of buying fabrics online, especially when I need them in an exact color, but this one's truly beautiful and I'm so happy I got it. Immediately, I went to work on the skirt because I thought finally! I can make some progress!

18th century skirts are super easy and quick to make. You just need two rectangular pieces of fabric, some pins and that's pretty much it. The sizing is also very forgiving so you'll be fine if it ends up being a few centimeters too big or too small. It is however better to make them on the bigger side if you're unsure. So I cut the fabric according to my measurments and went to pleating.

You'll want to do one big pleat in the center and then go from there. In my case, I cut the fabric into a 1x1m square, and pleated from the center to the edge to get the 1m down to around 37cm (half of the waist circumference). Since the fabric was around 1,40m wide originally, I thought I'd just pleat the 1,40 edge down to 37cm and get a fuller skirt as a result, but it was really difficult to get it down to that size so I decided to shorten it down to 1m. So you'll just have to just try and see what works.

Next up, I folded over the pleated edge to create a more finished look and sewed that with a sewing machine. Then I finished the outer edges before connecting the sides while the skirt was inside out. Technically, you could do this differently by doing a flat-felled seam which would give you a nicer finish, but that required a lot of thinking and pinning on my part which, to be completely honest, I wasn't feeling, so I decided to do it this way. This method requires more thread, but to me feels 'easier'. Either way, when you connect the edges, make sure to not connect them all the way to the top, or you won't be able to put it on afterwards. Leave a small slit of roughly 15cm (I eyeballed it, no need to be precise here) on each side at the top of the skirt.

Lastly, I finished the bottom seam and added some cotton tape to fasten it, and voilà- the skirt.

I pinned everything I have so far to the mannequin, the sleeves and the color details are all just pinned for now so apologies for the messy look, i just wanted to give you an idea of what it may look like when it's done. Hopefully, I'll get the tape by the week end and will be able to continue with the work.

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4|