Think like a child.

Sometimes I feel that our crazy childhood ambitions make more sense than our adult ambitions. It's almost a play on the whole "experience" factor. Does experience really make you better, or worse. It's the children that are more creative, it is the children that can get over their grudges quickly. Children are simple, adults are complex. Think about this.



Don't let anything stop you, just go.

-Fréd

betseyville or bust

when people talk about heroes or heroines, they are usually referring to some super human figure in tight, shiny polyester that possesses a keen ability to read human emotion and save entire cities in 3 minutes flat. and typically, fashion designers are left in the dust with their sewing machines, pins, and needles.

however, i have decided to completely disregard super heroes. they mean nothing to me. in their place i have put fashion designers, well one fashion designer in particular.

betsey johnson.

she is crazy. anyone who has seen her, or her clothes, or her typical cartwheel on the runway knows this. but who cares? certainly not me. her crazy blond locks and intense personality make her that much more enticing.

she's fashion's darling. she's what i aspire to be: crazy, with no inhibitions, and a flare for creating art in clothing.

Different

"What on earth are you wearing?"
"I'm wearing what I want...why?"
"Won't you put on this nice polo shirt? Or how about this nice sweater! With some beige pants!"
"No, I don't like that. It's not me"
"But isn't that what the other kids wear? What will they think when they see you?"
"I want to be different, I don't care what other people think"

Yet, if I didn't really care what others thought, why would I push myself to dress so differently?

-Fréd

i will possess your heart

with my mind. (ideas like no other)

with my body. (looks like no other)

with my soul. (love like no other)

-h. dawg

Passion goes.

Boredom remains.

Or so said Coco Chanel.

This weekend, I'm going to dye my hair.
I'll go from my dark reddish-brown hair to blond or maybe even pink.

Why such a drastic change?

Because I'm bored.
I'm so bored that I feel the need to do something fabulously reckless that I will no doubt regret in the morning.

Coco understood that life is segmented.
There are some segments where we are so in love with life that we wouldn't dream of changing a thing.
But when these end, we don't feel that we have anything left.

So be it fashion, music, or art,
we create to fill the void
and open the door to the next era of passion.

just breathe.

take a deep breath.

let it go.

tell yourself

you can't fix everything

if everything doesn't want to be fixed.

Turtleneck.

Remember when mommy used to dress us up herself? And pick out all of our clothes?
I used to wear the dresses, and the colorful tights, and my hair was always in two little braids.
And I remember in the fall, when I would have to start pulling those turtlenecks over my head.
And I would cry "MOMMY! I CAN'T...BREATHE...WITH...THIS...TURTLE...NECK...!!"
And then I would pretend to pass out on the floor.
And Mommy would laugh, and assure me that wearing a turtleneck would not make me stop breathing.
And then I would march off to school, and play with my friends in the playground.
And we all had our colorful clothes.

Those were the times when nobody cares what you're wearing. Nobody cares how much it costs, or who the designer is.
I guess, to me, it just goes to show that fashion is more than status-defining.
Fashion is art, and the best of it, to me at least, is carefree and fun.
It contains those innocent qualities that we all once had.

Whatever, that's just what I think.

-Fréd

in loving memory

COLD in the earth--and the deep snow piled above thee,

Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!

Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,

Sever'd at last by Time's all-severing wave?

Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover

Over the mountains, on that northern shore,

Resting their wings where heath and fern-leaves cover

Thy noble heart for ever, ever more?

Cold in the earth--and fifteen wild Decembers

From those brown hills have melted into spring:

Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers

After such years of change and suffering!

Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee,

While the world's tide is bearing me along;

Other desires and other hopes beset me,

Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

No later light has lighten'd up my heaven,

No second morn has ever shone for me;

All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,

All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

But when the days of golden dreams had perish'd,

And even Despair was powerless to destroy;

Then did I learn how existence could be cherish'd,

Strengthen'd and fed without the aid of joy.

Then did I check the tears of useless passion--

Wean'd my young soul from yearning after thine;

Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten

Down to that tomb already more than mine.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,

Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;

Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,

How could I seek the empty world again?

Remembrance

Emily Bronte = genius.

Bethany

ticktockticktockticktock

I think it's funny how time plays with us. In the end, time controls all. All sound, all movement, all emotion. Everything. But here's what I've noticed. Everything seems to have a beginnnig, climax, and then end. The longer it lasts, the more it challenges time perhaps, but Father Time will always prevail. It just seems so interesting that this format can be applied to almost everything that ever happens on this planet. THink of a piece of music. It starts out, it grows to a climax, and then it calms down again. Think of a poem. Think of a flower. It starts out as a seed, sprouts out of the ground, grows, blossoms, then shrivels up and dies.

Ooh here's a scary thought.

Think of you. Think of us. Think of everyone.

We are still growing, like the flower, like the music, like the poem. And then it seems that we'll reach our climax, and after that it is finally time to go.

Which I guess makes me a little nervous. I know this is all going to happen to me, but wouldn't it be scary to know EVERYTHING about your future self. But how do you know when you've reached the climactic point of your life? When will I know? When it's too late?

-Fréd

love is not some victory march.

it's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

it's a word thrown around too often.

everyone says that.

but you don't realize how true it is.

until you've "been in it."

i love my friends.

i love the movie, v for vendetta.

i love staying up on friday nights.

i love talking for hours about nothing.

i love spending time with people who will listen.

i love people who are different.

i don't know what love means.

can you tell me?

salvad- wait, who?

salvador dali. he was a famous surrealist painter, or well he still is if you're living in the art world. his twisted images have become staples in the world of surrealists. his melting clocks are forever seared into art rooms around the world. and even though his surreal paintings are beautiful, the ones i am most inspired by are his simple portraits of women in his life.

dali does a complete turn around. his dark images morph into romanticized portraits. he creates a different persona, and if you think about it, we should all be able to do the same. we should be chameleons in our style, in our views, and in our everyday lives, because if we fail to change, well how can we make the most of our lives?

curious and curiouser!

tenniel was genius.




lewis carrol created alice, but tenniel iconified her with his brilliant black-and-white illustrations that captured the spirit of the curious, intelligent little girl.

-gayatri

So what?

Last night my best friend dyed my hair. Prior to yesterday,
my hair was a very light brown with an auburn touch. I am
now the proud owner of an (almost) black mane. If I'm honest,
last night, I wasn't so much proud as embarrassingly dramatic.
I was close to tears and the wall very nearly felt my fists
meagre wrath.

You know that old cliché 'Everything looks better in the morning'?
It really is true. I woke up, looked in the mirror and felt ashamed
at my behaviour the previous evening. I wondered why I had had
such a change of heart and I just realised that it didn't matter.

So what if the darkness of my hair gives me a ghostly pallor?
So what if people disapprove and criticize?

Ah, and it is within the latter question that we reach our problem.
The opinions of others do matter to the majority of us. I've
now realised that last night I didn't really have the problem with
my hair -in truth it doesn't even look that bad- but what people
might think of my hair. Alas, call me a sheep - but I am fairly
confident that even the most gusty of us have felt insecurity at
one point of their lives.

I suppose the message is to do what you want and as you wish.
Live your life without conforming to fashion rules and the majority.
Inject a little diversity into life.

So what is you don't wear what the fashion magazines 'advise'
you to wear?
At least you'll stand out in a sea full of followers.

So what if your make up isn't perfect?
At least you're having fun.

So what if my hair is black?
At least I look mysterious...kind of.

By the way, I'm Laura. Nice to meet you.

Stylemarauders

Like what you see? And want to be a part of it?
We are looking for new photographers, and writers.
If you feel that you can write up to the standards, give us an email at styelmarauders@gmail.com

Thanks!!

-Fréd

DRESSED TO IMPRESS

Well let me start by introducing myself....i'm alyssa and i'm new to the style marauders so i'm just going to write about fashion mostly and issues around it. So lets start with the fashion issue that every teenage girl or boy has. It's almost summer time and school is almost out and you know what that means...yes summer jobs. May and June are the months that friends go out job hunting together, filling out thousands of applications hoping that at least one will call you back but what happens when you do get called back? What do you wear? They say a first impression is a lasting impression and how true it is. Even what you are wearing when you hand in the application can determine if you will get called back, sad but true. So i'm here to save those teens who stay up late going thru outfits to wear to the interview

When going for an interview it's important to show them that you are capable of being professional. But for interviews such as teenage retail stores like forever 21, wet seal, charlotte rousse, DEB, etc. it's also important to present to them that you can one, be up to date with the latest fashions and two, be a walking representation of the style the store presents. thats why its good to go with basic color clothing and then dress the outfit up with accessories to show a little bit of your personality. It's always safe to go with black skinny jeans, there's no worries of anything being revealing and black is always professional and skinny jeans are in. Shoes can also be an attention grabber, along with accessories they should stand out since your outfit will be simple, and these vintage shoes with a spice of 1920's american gangster dress shoes will certainly get a nod approval from the boss.

For stores such as hollister, abercrombie and fitch, aeropostle, gap, buckle,..etc they take pride in employees that wear thier clothing however, that doesn't mean you waltz in sporting a hollister tank and jeans with flip flops. BIG NO NOOOOOO!!!!!! just pick up some khaki's and a polo or nice blouse and you'll be fine. there not really that concerned if you are fashion forward.

Well if you have any questions or comments about what i wrote your welcomed to scream at me, either on the blog or email- chocoangel0821@juno.com

XOXO Alyssa B

homework oh homework

Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!
I wish I could wash you
away in the sink.
If only a bomb
would explode you to bits.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You're giving me fits.
I'd rather take baths
with a man-eating shark,
or wrestle a lion
alone in the dark,
eat spinach and liver,
pet ten porcupines,
than tackle the homework
my teacher assigns.
Homework! Oh, homework!
You're last on my list.
I simply can't see
why you even exist.
If you just disappeared
it would tickle me pink.
Homework! Oh, homework!
I hate you! You stink!

-Jack Prelutsky



-Fred

some things take time

but i dont want to take the time
i want you
with my body and soul and spirit
and i want you in my life
so let go
the doors open
i'm ready to let you in <<<3




photo of me
by me

new era.

so i'm graduating in a little over two weeks.

scaaary shit.

i know i'm going to miss my school because i'm used to it.

i tend to take things i'm used to for granted.

but honestly, i'm so ready to take on a new town.

i've done all i could do with this town.

besides, it is so straining seeing certain people every day.

i'm so looking forward to living in my city.

Coping.

I get stressed.

Easily.

But what's worse, is that most of the time, it's my fault. And I know that.

I ignore this paper, pretend like that project isn't due tomorrow, forget about homework...these aren't healthy habits.

Sometimes I wish there was a way out of it all. But there isn't.

There's no universal mechanism that can instantly erase all the stress.

It's about learning how to deal, how to cope. And for me.

My coping mechanism...is you.

to the hilt.

I have been to 5 funerals in the past year.
5 funerals for people who have died far too young.
5 grieving families.
5 caskets to kneel next to.
5 gravesides to stand by.

Naturally, this would prompt the statement "Gosh, life is short."
But that's wrong.

Life is not short.
Life is long.
Every second, every minute, every hour, every day is long.
And each seems to fly by,
wrought with missed opportunities and unreached potential.
Life is not long.
Life is unique.
Life is rare.

Every moment of your life offers you a chance to do something great, something unexpected, something fabulous.
Be it bursting into song in the middle of the street or wearing hot pink sparkly shoelaces with blue high-tops,
the opportunities that each minute offers are irreplaceable.

As Audrey Hepburn once said, "Pick the day. Enjoy it - to the hilt."

i am a deeply superficial person.

over the past week, i've become obnoxiously obsessed with andy warhol; and honestly, i'm not quite sure why. he was weird. he was crazy. he was eclectic. he was extraordinary. he was witty. he was intelligent. he was a genius.

he fascinates me, most likely because he understood the paradox in society. he understood that nothing is as it seems and that everyone longs for the chance to live in his or her fantasy world, where love affairs last forever and where there are 10 pictures of marilyn monroe on every wall.

andy warhol and his paintings are immortal; and in his honor, i hope that someday we will all have a chance to find our everlasting love affair or 10 marilyns.

its harder than it looks

to take a self portrait... especially when you are a photographer but luckily i have a little remote control that takes the pictures. i needed a senior pic but i just really liked the tones, so i thout i'd share.... also i have a great quote right now too: "I was the one you always dreamed of/You were the one I tried to draw/How dare you say it's nothing to me/Baby, you're the only light I ever saw"

yahh but i am taking some more fashion-y pictasss soonish or as soon as i can get my friends to pose for me!

new york.

I went to NYC for the first time yesterday.

The art was amazing.

The buildings were amazing.

The lights were amazing.

But honestly, I am so glad I have Boston to live in next year.

New York is dirty. Boston is classy.

And creepy men go into those XXX peep shows (with suitcases) in broad daylight!

And there is 8.25% sales tax.

And, when someone walks into you, they don't say excuse me. I hate that!

I had been a little bummed that I didn't get into the Brooklyn school that I applied to.
Seriously though, it was for the best.
And now I truly know that everything happens for a reason.

scraped knees and scary dreams.

You know what I loved most about being a kid? The fact that almost everything in the world was the way I wanted it to be (with the exception of the occasional time out, nightmares, or scraped knees).

Growing up was fine, I guess, but the worst part about growing up, the most painful part about growing up, is discovering that things in the world are different than you thought they were when you were little.

Like when I thought it was magic how those big maps at the zoo always knew where I was, whether I was looking at the lions, or the hippos.

Like when I thought that your food went down into your stomach in big chunks so the reason why you could eat icecream after you were full was because it would melt in your stomach between the big chunks.


I guess I'm writing about all of this because I am in a transitional stage in my life, leaving my childhood behind, and growing into an adult. A cultured, sophisticated, glamourous, fancy pancy adult.

And the other day in french class, when my french teacher told us that crumpets and english muffins were the same thing I went crazy.

"What!" I gasped.

"You didn't know?"

"But...I thought crumpets were little cookie like things... crumpets and tea? anyone? anyone?"

This realized misconception was like a shocker. A slap in the face.

"Hey Fred, you're growing up! You don't have time for misconceptions and make believe anymore"

I wanted to go back. Back to the days when I would make "crumpets" out of play-doh and pretend that I was having tea in England with all my dollies.

But instead, I had to take out my french homework, and begin the lesson.

-Fréd

i'm so lame.

This has by far been the craziest week of my life.

Everything has built up to it

Now the dust is finally starting to settle.

Completing things to help other people

And learning how to forgive

Make me feel so light.

[toldyouiwaslame]

let them have their tea.

Don’t you wish you lived in London,

where afternoon tea was as common as skinny jeans?

-hannah

c'est pas tous les jours que...

"I am the passenger and I ride and I ride

I ride through the city's backsides

I see the stars come out of the sky

Yeah, the bright and hollow sky

You know it looks so good tonight"

LOVE
lee

blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blahhh

Yeah.

I talk a lot. Like, all the time. Even before I could say words, I would talk, in my own baby language.
All the time.

No, I'm serious.

But the times when I tire myself out (my friends are like WHEN IS THIS?!), and when I sit and listen, it surprises me each time to see how much I learn.

Sometimes, I wish I were more of the quiet type. The type that understands the value of each word. But I still continue to blabber.

Maybe when that bug flew into my mouth during recess in 4th grade while I was talking, I should have taken the hint.

Oh well, I think I'll always be talkative little fred.
Silly, blabbering, rambling fred.

This makes no sense.
But at least I said it...


-Fréd

oh darling, darling

there are so many choices

the world is immense

take a good look around

and decide what makes sense

It may sound corny, but sometimes i just get so wrapped up by the world and what I see around me.

toodles--

hannah

colourful dreams.

lately the oriental feel seems to have been left behind. japenese designers seem to be going for simplicity. sleak lines and light flowing colours. there is a lack of dramatics. the photos by josh olins, like this one, bring back the clashing colours and the pattern crazziness. the bold silks and funky hats have a uniqueness about them that isn't american one bit. the overall tackiness works and becomes beautiful. there is a return to nature that still has that urban feel. anyway, i'm glad it's back.

LOVE
lee

i'm a people watcher.

i find people so interesting. overhearing conversations on the bus or on the train feels so enlightening most of the time. the quick glimpses into other people lives is an experience that is so hard to explain. there have been so many secret glances at the human heart. I think a lot about something i read from Charles Dickens:

"A wonderful fact to reflect upon, that every human creature is constituted to be that profound secret and mystery to every other."

maybe it's a bit far fetched but i believe that through style there are quick flashes of personality every once in a while. just the same as when one goes through an art gallery, reads poetry, or any other form of self expression, visual representations or even ones that are heard help us to understand human beings. whatever we really are.

LOVE

lee

?

I think that sometimes people aren't afraid of asking "stupid questions" but rather, they are afraid of what that question will reveal about themselves.

Something to think about.


-Fréd

tweedle-dee

ho hum.

recently, ive realized that im not so much interested in fashion as i thought. im more into art and culture. i cant keep up with trends at all. its the same ripped skinnies, leather jacket, worn out punk band tee, and combat boots or heels. im too lazy. and its bores me. i cant follow trends. seeing everyone with the same skirt from h&m, trying to be luella esque brings me to the doldrums.

art is so very tantalizing to my tastebuds. drawing, painting, sculpting. anything. of course fashion is an art. but so trendy. i cant stray away from my punk roots. so i stick to art. the very life of it all. its so real to my eyes.

hmm. i really want some tight leather pants. from trash and vaudeville. sure. i look innocent. dont let my little dutch boy looks fool you. and really. i want a platinum blonde mohawk. what a bad -ass thing to have.

opinions?

clothes aren't shallow, get over it.

it is not sufficiently realized that fashion is not accidental and arbitrary but is founded upon a definite and psychological basis. dress, in short, is the outward and visible sign of the inner spirit which informs any given period and nationality. the comparative uniformity of dress adopted by all people who have come under the influence of modern industrialism is a case in point.

one might say that our conception of the world must deeply influence our appearance. it appears that dress, quite as much as buildings, books or pictures, can be a manifestation of man's urgent desire to express ideas and satisfy his mental needs, which transcend any consideration of physical comfort or convenience, and all considerations of sensible economy. in this way man can alter the appearance of all things, including himself, to fit closely to an ideal, which is always of dissolving parts, fluctuating in its distinctness.

the human body is the basis of all fashion. each epoch develops its own aesthetic conception of the ideal human shape. this is demonstrated most clearly by the variations in the ideal of feminine beauty. one need only compare ruben's buxom beauties with the tall, slim and elegant line preferred today.

clothes can accentuate as well as tone down certain parts of the body, so as to make the silhouette approach as nearly as possible the prevalent ideal. they can correct faults and create an illusion. characteristic examples are the medieval predilection for a slightly protuberant belly in the female form, as can be seen in many contemporary works of art, and the preference in the rococo times for an exageratedly tiny waist.

the apparent bodily proportions, too, can be strongly influenced by the composition of the attire. the most frequently ecountered tendency in the history of costume is a striving for an increase in stature. the optical illusion of an increase in height served to enhance dignity and social importance. occassionally the length of the dress of the amount of material used pointed to the social position of the wearer.

in one way or another the clothes we wear are affected by tradition even today, and historical events have played no small part in influencing fashion now as in teh past. under the guillotine of the french revolution not only heads, but wigs rolled - literally and figuratively. not to wear a wig henceforth became as obligatory as is the wearing of jeans among most youth today. clothes have a meaning; they reveal secret attitudes.

LOVE

lee