Big whaaa.

So I got a new blog on Tumblr, so subsequently I've ignored Crumbled Maps. But I really love this one because it's where I can fixate on all the materialistic and frivolous aspects of my existence.

Hmm. I'll be back later with something more interesting. Like those whacky Gareth Pugh sticks walking down the runway this spring?!

Fly Guys.

Note to all boys--dress like this. Finally ! A New Year's Resolution worth keeping.






















Comme ca !

Source

Class, not crotch.

I'm not one of those virtuous Victorian-esque prudes who are so fixated on propriety and take fashion so seriously. But I don't think that my ideas of feminism dissolve simply because I would like to see women... um, WEARING CLOTHES.

Sienna wants you guys to take her seriously as an actress. The part that mentions taking her seriously as an occasional stripper remains unsaid but understood.

I'm all for feminine liberation from archaic concepts of homemaking and the expectations that women should be nurturing, unquestioning ninnies. I truly believe that if I had lived during the late 19th century/early 20th century, I would've been one of those self-righteous, broach-wearing protesters thrown in jail, petticoat and all. But I strongly oppose the belief that female liberation must equate to the oversexualization of the arguably more objectified of the genders.

Towel dresses are the new LBDs. Audrey Hepburn must be rolling over in her grave.

More specifically, why don't women keep their freaking pants on anymore? What's so glamorous and sexy about being nude in public? I lack the understanding of just how this new "bare" look is attractive in any way whatsoever. Anyone considering this new "trend" and showing more than their share of skin would look better if they taped a sign to their back with an arrow pointing down at their ass cheeks hanging out that says, "Opening tonight: watch my cottage cheese jiggle. Limited tickets."

Paris Hilton, a constant offender. I'm tempted to assume that she keeps her bottom bare in order to easily have access her ninja throwing stars in case of any paparazzi. But maybe I'm being too optimistic.

It perturbs me even more when I realize that I am actually hesitant to tell my opinion to others, as if I don't want to them to see me as a prudish grandma who finds even turtlenecks scandalizing. I also realize that this is what current culture has evolved to and I, as an individual, can do little to change this new vulgar representation of women. I'm just disappointed that instead of women looking up to beautiful icons (Grace Kelly, anyone) and dressing like them, they are resorting to replicating their outfits based on the transvestites on a Jersey City street corner.

You have to wonder what's going through her mind when she chooses this to wear and knows she will be on stage. She would've been more subtle if she had just lifted up her dress in mid-speech.

The mother of all flashers.

An possible Oscar-worthy documentary that could rival Al Gore's climate project tribute: what goes through her mind when she's putting on clothes (or... not) in the morning.

The holiday season's not quite the same without those puppies wishing you a Happy Hannukah.

Oops, she did it again. (Couldn't resist.)

So I'm at a loss for words. As fashion becomes less and less about clothes and as women continue to believe in showing more and more skin, I still don't feel compelled to change my opinion that coverage is old, outdated, outmoded. There nothing classy or appealing about vaginas flapping around in mid-air. Oui!

Short commentary.

Bad thing about being too busy to blog, then making a comeback two months later.
No one remembers to check your blog anymore.

I guess I can't blame anyone but myself.
Like that's going to stop me!

[See below for most recent post on Shanghai.]

Shanghai Surprise.

From the 700 photos I took on my trip to China this past summer, I've selected the ones that best evoked the spirit of my vacation in Shanghai and the south (and it's only taken me three months to do it!). Some are fashion-related, while others pertain to culture. But I think the most identifiable thing about what I've captured on film is the idiosyncratic nature of everything I encountered. Voila!

Where the city meets the sky.

I spent about a week in the heart of Shanghai, in Pudong, shopping in the Oriental by day and strolling down Nanjing Road at night. But the most interesting part of city life was people-watching. There are surprising people around every corner, from a gold-digger 20-something in leather stilettos on the arm of a plump American baby boomer smoking a cigar, to young hipsters in skinny jeans with beautiful skin and even more beautiful smiles.

Rich colours dominated fashion in the city.

Stop two: the art scene. Painters trying to "make it" in the art world sold their works in side shops in narrow neighborhoods. I was surprised that many of their styles were influenced by western impressionism and not Chinese calligraphy.

Miniature painters in the Shanghai historical museum.

A whimsical art shop in the middle of Cheng Huang Temple.

A crafts stand on the side of the street. Wonder what she's reading...?

Of course, if it weren't for the food, half of my reason for visiting this country would be lost. There's something to be mentioned about the mindset of the Chinese when they use the phrase "Have you eaten yet?" to say hello.

Delicious dim-sum and dumplings.

City romance.

As I backpacked around the eastern coast and got lost in nature and living spontaneously, there was always something that could catch the corner of my eye. A man fishing on the side of a lake and forgetting about it as he dozed off with his glasses askew; his wife fanning him during his nap. A broken bicycle left in the middle of the road. Romance under canopies of trees.

As great of a city as Shanghai was, I was glad to leave for someplace more quiet and peaceful. I spent the rest of my weeks in southern China, where street style was abundant. The following girl I photographed jumps to mind immediately when I think of the modern young generation of China.

In bloomer-esque jeans, rolled up to show flashy sandals, with a one-of-a-kind leather satchel, she evokes an intriguing type of sentiment.

And so my trip ended. I was disappointed, and nostalgic at first. But dwelling on the past isn't very practical, if comforting. More adventures to come, I'm sure.