Underlying Intentions

In my last post I had something to show you. Something absolutely delicious and desirous. It was a fabulously overwhelming gift from the friend I mentioned.

It was one of those rare and treasured  occasions when a girl is surprised by something she could have only dreamt of calling her own. I had not mentioned my preferences to anyone, and it was only vaguely referenced here in my blog, so it was a wonderful surprise. What makes my dear endowerer even more incredible is that the selected sizing was impeccably accurate.

Most of you are familiar with my preference for many of the delightful items at What Katie Did. For a few years now I have been secretly lusting over a particular design in their corset range. What a very lucky girl I am to be able to cinch myself with the gorgeous Morticia.



If you have ever received a parcel from this gorgeous boutique, you will know how the pleasure begins as you unwrap your delicate items from the volumes of black tissue, which has been carefully beribboned and subtly marked for posting. Their corsets also come in lavish satin bags for safe keeping.

You can imagine how overwhelmed a girl could be to learn that her divine friend had been busily sourcing both the US and UK collections for such an indulgence. More than this, it was to be a part of an entire lavish ensemble!

After examining it on-screen so often, one would think that I would know the items in my favourite What Katie Did range by touch. But with my eyes averted and my fingers feeling those lines of stitching, soft satin and powermesh I could not believe my lingerie fantasies were being realised. I am entirely enamoured with so many of the items in the delectable Maitresse range. Can you believe what gorgeous things I found?

The Maitresse Bullet Bra

An essential item in a vintage girl's wardrobe

The Maitresse Knickers

Tasteful and glamourous

The most perfect Fully Fashioned Stockings

Authentic, specially made on rare machines, and with a keyhole welt.

and to hold that beauty in place

The Maitresse Girdlette

with six very fine quality garter tabs for a sure grip.

What a very fortunate girl I am. However, at the moment they are being admired in my drawers as I wait patiently for a visit from my very generous gifter.

A girl shouldn't wear them for just anyone.

xx

A Very Restrictive Souvenir

After arriving home last Monday I have been thrown back into my university obligations and have not had time to tell you all about my most perfect holiday. But I did get myself a little souvenir from here:

After browsing a very arousing selection, the Fairy Gothmother herself chose something for me and whisked me into the change room before I knew it. She laced me so tightly in this corset, but in ivory satin.

So tightly that she reduced my waist by six inches. I don't think I have ever moaned in pleasure as much as she tightened those laces so powerfully and without remorse. Well, perhaps not until I arrived in Barcelona a few days later.

I will have to tell you all about it soon.

Be good, my dear watchers.

xx

Basque in Barcelona

Sometimes a girl has to be a little spontaneous. And a little wicked. Sometimes she has to stretch herself a little further than she should. She should grasp a gorgeous opportunity when it is with such divine company.

She should not resist.

And so I have acquiesced.

                                                        Naughty, naughty me.


I do not mind how imprudent it is. I think that makes it nicer, and my inviter is so enticing.

A girl can sometimes do things she should not.

Or perhaps she should, after all.

I can't wait.

In just a few weeks I shall be here:

Can a girl have too much that she loves all at once? She might need you to hold her down.

I love it when you do that.

xx

Vargas Video

Some of you may remember my post from November last year on the gorgeous Vargas dress.

The creators, Kiss Me Deadly, are asking for videos in their loveliest shape-wear.

Without a boy in the boudoir, a girl needs to ask nicely if there is any kind and discreet person out there in my ethernet who is handy with a camera (or vidphone) and has a few luscious ideas to make a fun little film-o-matic.

 ... but you have to promise to be nice because I am a very good girl.


xx

Art and Tradition of Cars and Skin

This city is fortunate to have many exhibition spaces which cater for diverse interests. During the weekend I was able to indulge both classic and more subversive curiosities in its most modern and traditional venues.

One of our distinguished postmodern buildings hosted the Austin Healey Car Club. Normally these rounded English vehicles do not garner my attention, but I appreciate their period appeal and similarities to those more audacious American models.

Even in the 1950s the conservative Austin is remains reminiscent of 1940s styling, which we can see in this 1954 Somerset convertible.

If someone came by in one of these, who could say "no" to a country drive?

Her cousin was a utility vehicle, with customised spats and hubcaps.

And why shouldn't a girl like running boards on a car like this?

Look at the hardware on the steering wheel!

I liked some of the recurring features, like the inset turning indicators, and Bakelite knobs on the interior of the more prestigious models, like this 1950s Atlantic.

The Austin badges and emblems were variant and rarely ostentatious, even when applied in multiples.

Interestingly, in the space-age conscious design of the 1950s the badge became more reflective of  Art Deco streamline on this Cambridge.

The general conservatism of this make, and this exhibition was starkly contrasted by my second exhibition of the weekend: a Tattoo and Arts Festival.

This had Madame Lash's vehicle for a mascot: A hell-fired 1959 Chevrolet.

Although there were also bands, clothing and merchandise, the focus of the festival was tattooing. Artists from United States, United Kingdom, Singapore, Indonesia, New Zealand and Australia whirred and buzzed in scores of stalls, as living canvasses lined up to be indelibly coloured. The array of design was surprising, from the fantastic to the traditional, applied to head, feet, nether regions, and everything in between.

I watched stoic youths, burly men, and an array of women quietly succumbed to the artists' needles for hours.

Most interesting was a traditional Indonesian application of ink by a needle attached to a wooden pole and hit with a small mallet. The tattoo artist and his assistant stop every few minutes to wipe the fluid that raises to the surface of the skin. It is a laborious process, but reiterates the traditional roots of this art as forms of initiation, commemoration, and its related spiritual connotations as well as its aesthetic value.

I did not want to encroach on the privacy of the artists or the people being tattooed, so I do not have any photos of the individuals. Even when I asked to photograph merchandise, I was firmly rebuffed. I have, however, a collection of their commercial presence, which also manages to give an insight into their work.

xx

Holiday Hootenanny

My oh my, what a busy time it has been these last few weeks.

Besides the usual festivities and feting, I have had the opportunity to indulge in some favourite pastimes and challenge myself in activities I would not otherwise have contemplated.

Being in a different city where many of my old friends live allows me to fill my dates with visits across town and suburbs. But this can also prove a challenge, especially is there are other enticing activities playing here for a short time only. And thus presented my quandary. Fortunately I am also graced by the benefaction and generosity of many friends and family who either share my interests, or are willing to oblige them. So I proposed an open invitation to a photography exhibition and was pleased with the disparate but comfortable little group which kindly joined me.

The exhibition exceeded my expectation, as did the positive and varied perspectives on the work when we reconvened in a noisy bar a few winding streets behind. Conversations continued from afternoon through evening as we revisited places we used to frequent for pre- and post-dinner drinks.

                                           *        *        *        *        *

Conversely, I was invited to a family event at an activity park. Such venues are usually a little off my radar, but I decided this might be a fun way to extend my perceptions and my physical abilities. Heck, in the borrowed clothing I had to wear I could be assured no-one would recognise me if I made a blazing fool of myself.

Did I say I thought this may be fun? It was a downright holiday hootenanny! I leapt, dived, careened, tobogganed, bumped, glided, and bobsledded my way through the park. I ate and drank naughty things and somehow didn't mind a bit. I saw happy people from such a variety of diverse and colourful demographics constantly around me. Opposing re-visitations to activities were all jovially accommodated within our group. We arrived home tired, in need of a long warm shower, and sated. In fact, the fun may have rivaled my convivial cultural excursion.

Such can be the dividend of disparity. Surprising and opposing components in these unfamiliar environs made for some very propitious opportunities. Perhaps that is why I like to subversively challenge my perceptions of normatives, whether personal, social, or ideological.

I would love it if you could share some of yours with me. (I promise I won't tell!)

xx