Archive for the ‘IKON’ Tag

A Moveable Feast   Leave a comment

I was intending to do something much more casual this time, but I fell in love with this month’s Tres Chic, and so here I am glammed up again.

“…There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it ….”

— Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast

“When good Americans die, they go to Paris.”

— Oscar Wilde

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Puttin’ On the Ritz   Leave a comment

If you’re blue an’ you don’t know
Where to go to
Why don’t you go where fashion sits
Puttin’ on the Ritz

You can definitely “put on the Ritz” in Kelini Couture.  I’m sad to get the announcement that the haute couture side of the store will be closing down, but there’s still the chance to pick up one or two new dresses; while Jem, who had only been to Kelini once, found an opportunity to grab some of the highest-octane gowns on the Grid at a very affordable price.

More in-depth shots and the details after the fold.

Tales from INSILICO — For the Working Girl   Leave a comment

Taking a smoke break outside of the strip club near the station’s main promenade, the bleached-skin woman tries to gather her energy and determination for the next round back inside ….

I work in the chorus doing three shows a night
Wearing fishnets and feathers under blinding white lights
I’ve served shots to hard hats who had booze on their lips
Been fondled and leered at for an occasional tip
And it don’t get no better, but it can’t get no worse
For the working girl’s world is the size of her purse

From Detroit to Des Moines it’s the same ugly scene
I’m a cog; you’re a wheel
He’s a king; she’s a queen
From the smokestacks to the meat racks
When you’re eyelined and curled
There’s a lot to be said for the working girl

Sweating for sweet water just to run through your hands
Six kids in Cleveland for one wedding band
Tied up to a mill loom for the minimum wage
A nest egg’s a daydream that never gets laid
And it don’t get no brighter, but it’s clearer to see
There ain’t no working girls like the ones on T.V.

From Detroit to Des Moines it’s the same ugly scene
I’m a cog; you’re a wheel
He’s a king; she’s a queen
From the smokestacks to the meat racks
When you’re eyelined and curled
There’s a lot to be said for the working girl

 

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I’m wearing:

  • Head: Akeruka Monika 2.5
  • Body: Maitreya Lara 4.1
  • Skin: Fallen Gods Pure Ivory
  • Eyes: IKON Sovereign (Quicksilver)
  • Hair: Letituier Samba
  • Nails: Absolut Vendetta Elisa
  • Attachments: Vista ProHands hands 2 Maitreya Lara feet 4.1
  • Outfit (including shoes): Violent Seduction Erebus (dress, heels, panties and pauldrons) (gacha) (red)
  • Jewelry: Zuri Rayna Shazney earrings and necklace
  • Makeup:
    • Eyeshadow: Zibska Didane (slot 3)
    • Lipstick: Zibska Sable (slot 4))

Photographed at INSILICO region

What is Reality?   Leave a comment

What is reality?
Is it the cool embrace of winters chilling winds?
Or is it the tingle you get while walking in the sun on a summer’s afternoon?

More photos and verses on the next page.

Crossroads   Leave a comment

They say that magic becomes real at the crossroads
The places not quite here
Yet not quite there
The balance points between “was” and “will be”
When the doors between worlds open
And possibilities are unleashed

The twilight is like a crossroads
The borderland between
The light of day and dark of night
You may slumber through the night
And drift through the day
But then the sun truly descends, and the shadows lengthen
The day’s cares are abandoned
As if they had never been

As the magic grows
You race for your home
But oh, only for a span of time
The power swirls about you
As you shed the weeds of workaday
It caresses and teases, the sweetest of lovers
As you gown yourself in glory
It sings sweetly to all your senses
While you touch paint to your lips
Shadow to your eyes
Roses and musk to your throat

And then the door is flung wide
The spell is set
And it shapes your night like a sculptor’s hand to the marble
You give yourself over to gaiety
Drown yourself in music
Reel in the dance’s intoxication
You flirt and flaunt, tease and tempt
Till you capture the one
Who has in turn captured you
And when that moment strikes
Upon the chimes of the night

Then…a new spell begins

— Harper Ganesvoort, 2017

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The Ivory Dame Caper   Leave a comment

Full-size photos at my Flickr stream

It had been a long day, a day in a string of days filled with lots of nothing. Business lately was flatter than a Martian flat cat; and brother, that’s flat. Even the weather was depressed; it had been spitting rain all day, the kind of rain that ate holes in ceramacrete here on Chania 3, nice and acid.  Anyway, I was sitting in my office, fighting the latest battle in the age-old war between income and expenses. As usual, the expenses were winning; I hadn’t seen a clipped credit in weeks.  I was already a month behind on the rent; the landlord was beginning to give me the fish eye and tap on the commlink on his belt every time he saw me, which was turning into every morning as I walked in the lobby.  I knew what that meant; he kept the name of his favorite bouncer on speed dial there, some critter big and blue and with six arms.  When that guy bounced you, you stayed bounced.

I was getting ready to give it up for the day, when there was a knock on the door.  A knock on the door meant one of two things:  the landlord’s bouncer, or a paying client.  Right at the moment, I couldn’t be fussy.  If it was the bouncer, he’d just rip the door off if I didn’t open it, and the landlord was in the right, anyway.  If it was a client, I might just make enough out of this to stave off Blue Boy’s advent.  I keyed the door….

…and knew that this case was probably gonna be worth big credits, and that I was in a whole lot of trouble from the get-go.

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I Am a Jem Girl!   Leave a comment

jem-girl-1

Me and my friends are Jem girls
Jem, Jem is my name
Exciting adventure
Fashion and fame
Once you’re a Jem girl
You’re never the same

C’mon, c’mon and be a Jem girl
Jem, Jem is my name

Jem Opening Theme (variant 1), lyrics by Barry Harman

Come on and be a Jem girl with me

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