the ugly earring

ug‧ly [uhg-lee] offensive to the sense of beauty; displeasing in appearance

head rush



(alexander mcqueen pre-fall 2009; by way of simply olive)


eight pieces of me


minirobot tagged me almost a month ago and yet this has been a difficult post to write.  dearest friends and strangers, it feels as if this blog has become a hyper-extension of myself to a certain degree. any of you who read this blog probably know me predictably well without even knowing me.

so, i’ve spent the last couple of weeks struggling with eight pieces to offer to you that are both new and not mundane.  my latest attempt:

1. the name of this blog came from the idea that i only wanted to make and sell ugly earrings that no one would ever want. the earring business went under but this blog remains.

2. i own several pair of flair jeans and still wear them…in public. (gasp!)

3. i haven’t plucked or shaped my eyebrows in more than three years. they’re an honest mess, and i kind of like it.

4. before my mother came along, my father had a girlfriend named leslie who embodied a kind of youth one stumbles upon while listening to jimi hendrix or janis joplin for the first time. a beautiful free spirit with long straight hair parted in the middle, holes in her bell bottom jeans and a fringe purse. she was a trained equestrian rider.
one day while my father was stationed overseas during the vietnam war, she fell off her horse and was dragged across a texas plain, leaving her face and body disfigured. my father quickly rushed to her side with a wedding proposal, but leslie said no. Instead, she asked him to remember her as she was.  
an  awakening came when i picked up jim morrison’s book of poetry for the first time. at the time, i was wearing thrift store 517s, and falling for long haired hippie boys who read jack kerouac and could juggle oranges. one day as i was suffering through a heartbreak, upset that my love was unrequited, my father sat me down on his pickup truck outside and gave me one of those heavy talks you never forget.
“you think i don’t understand you. but i know you. i’ve heard these poems before, the songs you listen to, and the clothes you wear. Even the things you say at times,”  and then, he told me about leslie.

perhaps it is true a piece of me came from a piece of them. 

5. yesterday, i thought how nice it would be to ride on the light rail and have lunch at haji-babas.

6. i  am oddly attracted to the female wolf spider’s parental instinct.

7.  i won’t eat a banana when there are spots of brown.

8.   i don’t have a middle name.

i tag bare witness because she is a whirlwind of mystery,  aesthetically pleasing because i am thankful for the risto introduction and even cleveland  because she has this thing about fisherman sweaters. on a side note, be sure to check out these eight things: royal quiet deluxe  and all things ordinary.

                                                        (barefoot with cat= my childhood)