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bird, elephant men, men

Whenever my friends and I went to dinner together make decisions very important and complicated elaborate theories (which, by the next morning, when we call for phone to laugh last night, normally no longer remember) and usually revolve around men. Mainly. Only. Basically. Yes, I admit. I've never seen a gathering of more than five women in which the main theme were not the guys. There is also talk of other things, of course, but often builds our friendship, which causes the greatest laughter and conversation is always, for all women, the topic of men (another good thing that we should thank them). Well then, this weekend, my friends and I have decided that, aesthetically speaking, there are only four types of man really exciting: the Bird, elephant men, men with a human face and the men they fell in love .
Category 1: Men bird, like Samuel Beckett or David Bowie or Peter O'Toole, for example. Tapered faces painted with fine brush, strange eyes and turbid (Bird), beak nose, feathery hair.
Category 2: Elephant Man: a massive head, large, almost prehistoric, carved in stone. Oh, the absolute elegance elephant head Churchill!
Category 3: Men men, men with a human face (but that does not mean they are men ...). It seems obvious and simple, but not many (men too). Men faced man, do not have to be handsome but remind us of the many reasons why we like men, remind us that we too we are animals. Humphrey Bogart and Anthony Quinn for example.
Category 4: The men who fell in love (which may or may not belong to any of the above categories) and wipe out all the shadows.
And today, photos of Beckett, Churchill and Bogart (Have you noticed the jackets they wear? Virtually the same in all three cases. We speak of men's jackets!), Three men have shown that the style ( what we do with what we are) is more important than beauty.
Happy Monday, dear.

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a little porcelain PORCELAIN, DECOUPAGE AND REA REA

Hey guys! THANK YOU ALL FOR REA GREETS IN THE DAY OF MEET! Was a special day.
Here I show, A LITTLE BIT OF WHAT I WAS PAINTING, LES NEXT WEEK SHOW MORE PHOTOS, AND EVERYTHING TO TAKE BAKE.

THESE HANGERS ARE OTHER, THAT WAS MY DAUGHTER FLOWER PAINTING, AND A LITTLE BIT OF MAKING DECOUPAGE IN THESE PIECES OF WOOD TO GIVE.

REA AND HERE, MEET YOUR DAY!
I WISH YOU A BEAUTIFUL WEEKEND, KISSES AND THANKS FOR ALWAYS BE WITH LOVE AND GRA
REA

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How How to be a dick be a hippy

pijería

The only interests me is the one that comes from culture, not money. The matches for free (all matches for free), not the polo club. Which bastardized (bastardized everything), not entering Semon as if it were conquered territory. She who laughs at everything (Reírse. Everything. I am increasingly convinced that the only real and unmistakable sign of intelligence in the day to day, and the only luxury that really exists), not the illustrious parents transcendence and tearing his hair. He sits in public banks to think, not what he knew by heart the list of people who had a Rolls Royce in Barcelona (my grandmother). Well, roll and cut the philosophical, this is a fashion blog, do not forget (if not a fashion blog, today's post is titled "How Gadhafi settle"). Stylistic recommendations for today: Oscar Wilde, Tolstoy, Saki, Dinesen and Proust, Proust, Proust. Or alternatively, do what I do: staring for ten minutes a day this picture of Count Luchino Visconti, to see if I get something.
Happy Wednesday, ladies.

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Every time I start to explain that basically I'm a hippy, everyone laughs. As a teenager and still had hippies Cadaqués (say that one day they put them all in a truck and taken away, but wonder, is a measure of some radical, right? even for the inhabitants of Cadaqués), I knew them all: the one who said he was the reincarnation of Dali, who gave massages (once I forced my poor brother left holy give a shoulder massage in the square and became dizzy and very bad), who had been in jail and was full of tattoos, wearing feathers in their hair and slept in a kind of rock that was shaped like a bed, the quiet blond Yugoslavian selling the drug. .. and did not know hardly any of the posh, and he did know, would often do not know them. I also went to dinner with the hippies at the campsite (which for me was the most exotic, mysterious and fascinating world), I did not set foot on the famous island of Port Lligat hippies because my friend Sarah was in charge of going and I was waiting on the shore.
Anyway, all this stuff is for you to understand that I am a hippy since I was born in virtually Bonanova. There is an English expression I like very much, "ones inner channel ...", to mean something like" channel your inner whatever. " I will tell you how I'm going to channel this summer my inner hippy. Yes, every time I write and speak worse, I know, I think it is due to spend the day arguing with people under 12 years and over 75. Well, I'm going to buy, or I to dream that I buy, unless you want to be eating spaghetti and fried eggs to the summer-leather bag Doligé Laurence hippy photo and the wonderful hippy Isabel Marant jacket in the other photo. What do you think?
And I hope that from now no one dares to doubt my hippy. Happy
week.

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How many are we, really?

This summer (and life in general) I was torn between two things: the pale pink handbag Loewe and the sprawl of these outstanding banana Prada. On the one hand, the softness, beauty, the extreme delicacy, shyness, light, the fragility of the rose (it Pink loveliest I've ever seen, the picture does not do justice, I had to control not to start to kiss right there in the store). And secondly, the joy, energy, strength, audacity, the desire to play, the apathy, the Carmenmirandismo of these small banana-shaped earrings.
One corresponds to the attitude of "living life" and the other on the attitude of "Death in Venice." Are incompatible, but both are in me. I think we all have two ends, two opposites between which we navigate, two borders that somehow contain us, we limit and define us. I probably would never buy or bag or earrings, and in any case never take them together, but they are a pretty clear picture of who I am (and do what we do in life, basically, all you do is look for non-stop, on the other, on the slopes of bananas, whatever) . Well, I leave you a clip (do you still call it?) Very "Live your life" campaign in summer 2011 Prada is just what I want for this summer, but without the clothes.
Happy Wednesday.

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When clothes do not understand us.

Guys: I have returned the white jeans I was talking about the last day. When I appeared again, the clerk, I had endured my questions two days before, made a face very rare, but hey, it's not my fault that the Texans who sold me did not speak my tongue! Yes, they were beautiful, elegant, and everything else, but not for me (and impossible love are a roll). Do you not it happen that some items you do not understand? My list:

-white cowboys.

-white T-shirts. In theory, I also like. In practice, with a white shirt look like a boiled potato.

black swan-necks: I made an entry a few days ago, I love, but I can not take something that I compress the neck, puts me in a foul mood, I can not breath.

"The Talk. Another classic that I like much, but every time I taste one I feel like Donald Duck (I like Donald Duck, but say it is not exactly my style intake), the sole is very white and very thick or so something happens. Then, when the street I see girls with Converse, I love, why not for me? I do not know.

-The trench or trench: I've had several, from Comptoir des Cotonniers to Burberrys (which I bought second hand on ebay) and I always finish giving to a friend. I like them, are the most elegant of the world, yet make me bad.

-high boots. Riding boots. Terrible claustrophobia. But are precious. The other day my friend Clara took them and was great. I've had several pairs and have not left the closet. I guess it's because the boots and I stomp. Snif!

-La "Marinière" marine blue-striped shirt and off-white or raw. Another absolute classic. They are great, but I do not understand, make me feel stupid.

Well, stop, my old blue jeans (and my risers children) call me.

Happy Sunday.
PS: The photo of today: I loved John Wayne. I: his jeans, boots and, above all, the dog walking behind.

The Taker Denudas .com

HAPPY 11 YEARS!

HOLA! TODAY I WANT TO SHARE WITH YOU, THE JOY OF OUR Celebrate MEETS REA, 11 YEARS OF LOVE!
WE WISH YOU A BEAUTIFUL WEEKEND, MANY KISSES TO ALL! REA AND GRA

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gifts, a little wooden and porcelain

Hi Guys! Today I want to share the gifts, I RECEIVED IN JANUARY. THIS BEAUTIFUL CARD FROM THEM, I RECEIVED FROM MY FRIEND DORIS of Oaxaca, MEXICO. IS BEAUTIFUL EMBROIDERY, DORIS MAKES SOME GREAT WORK! DORIS THANKS!



THIS MIMO, I received from my friend Andrea, APAXIONADA BY PONTO CRUZ, AS ALWAYS SHARE WITH ALL. THANK YOU ANDRE!

THESE BEAUTIES ARE THE GIFT MONI-dream fulfilled, FLOWER OF MY DAUGHTER. Under the chair, THERE IS A BOX TO SAVE thingy. TANO MONI LOVE THANKS FOR MY FLOWER!

TELL THEM THAT DAY SALI AND WANTED TO PAINT SOME FLOWER HANGERS, SO YOU LEAVE OTHER HANGER LILAC AND PINK, WITH A FEW FOR YOU MAKE NAPKINS A DECOUPAGE.
When he returned, I ran into these creations, SHOW THEM IN ANOTHER ENTRY OTHER HANGERS THIS PAINTING.

Here I show you, some little gifts I was ready.
I WISH YOU A BEAUTIFUL WEEKEND, ALL GRATEFUL FOR EACH OF YOUR HEART VISITS, AND MANY KISSES TO ALL MY FRIENDS TO LEAVE COMMENTS. GRA BESOS