last of the pic spam / do the crusher
Oct. 7th, 2004 11:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
'kay. Think this is all the requests.
For
ravenluvxlex - TV set, thinking spot, impulse purchase:

I am a lazy girl, so I do most of whatever I do that doesn't demand action!!! from a recline, or cross-legged and hunched-over. Thinking is no exception, position-wise. Since I already did a picture off the back porch (porchlette, slab, whatever), here's the thing itself. I have decided that I like going and sitting out there for a few minutes first thing after I get up, even if I don't have to let the dog out any more, so this is my new thinking spot. Either that, or the chair or the cheesy little twin bed in prior photo sets. Or, for that matter, the coffee shop also shown in earlier, blurry images. I almost never sit in the "public" rooms of the house without Mr. Glove or company around.

As for the impulse purchase...well, just about anything I've got could potentially be called an impulse purchase, including the house. However, I think I'll try again tomorrow to take some tiara pictures. I have a couple shots but, on review, even I shouldn't look so cranky to be wearing a glittery crown. I may take a new set of official State portraits, preparing with both makeup and a hairbrush, in which case I will post those as the most impulsive purchase of recent years.
For
astrea9562 - fashion doll fun:
Well, I don't have anything currently on display for a number of space issues, but these girls were in a box at the front of the closet, along with the little couch (note the pushpin legs!).

The fanatacism and tedious minutiae of collecting is so hopelessly uncool.
I was, for several years, a rabid collector of Barbie dolls, particularly those which were roughly my age or older. It's a very expensive hobby, even more so now that Mattel, the manufacturer of Barbie dolls, has finally begun to really respond to and address the interests/desires of the fan/collector market. Additionally, a number of larger-scale dolls have been introduced specifically for the adult collector market by various companies, and all of those require a fat wallet, as well. Much as I used to have drug toxicity criteria and chemotherapy regimens memorized, I once knew which years the doll had intaglio markings on her ass, which years the markings were in relief, and all the variations in what they said. I don't know any of that with certainty any more (not the cancer stuff, not the doll stuff).
The doll on the left is Barfly Stacey. Stacey is Barbie's British friend. Barbie has a teenage British cousin, too, Francie. Francie was, at one time, also available as a black British cousin. It was kind of cool that Barbie had a black cousin in the mid-1960s, though apparently no one really thought too hard about it at the time. Anyway. Mr. Glove used to go to these big doll shows with me and we'd wander around the dealer tables and, well, buy lots of stuff. Little plastic stuff. Barfly Stacey was purchased wearing this "dress" which I believe is actually a negligee. Her hair, which was originally curled in multi-directional flip, still maintains some original curl, but it's kind of fuzzy, and I never went to the trouble of "restoring" it to perfection because 1) I'm lazy, and 2) I liked how frowsy she looked. Mr. Glove helped me pick her out, and we agreed that her natural habitat was a bar with burned-out neon and a sticky counter and vending machines in the bathroom that spit out flavored condoms. She is, if I remember correctly, circa about 1969.
The doll on the right is named Dahlia. She actually has a long name to go along with the elaborate history I concocted for her, but I think it's enough to just let you know that I bothered to do such a thing rather than actually humiliating myself by recounting it. This specific doll sprang fully-formed into the world at the same time I did, i.e., 1966, though her identical siblings were being churned out starting in 1965. Unlike prior issues, these dolls had bending knees (three loud, distinct clicks, to a full 90 degree angle), which any kid who plays with dolls can tell you makes all the difference in the world. There was an earlier model, Miss Barbie, who had bending legs, but she also had a self-melting head and was ugly, and I think Mattel prefers to forget all about her. Dahlia is what is known as an "American Girl," apparently because of her pageboy hairstyle (no, this makes no sense to me, either). When I was still in the thick of collecting, the "AG" was the doll of choice, especially the side-part variations which would sell for thousands of dollars. My doll cost mere hundreds, and she was a gift to me from Mr. Glove on my birthday. I never would have bought such an expensive doll for myself (and never did, actually), but when I opened the box, my heart literally stopped, stumbled, and then went merrily along. As far as AGs go, she's not a particularly desireable or special model, but she's mine ;)
Her "playsuit" and shoes are original. Her original "geranium" lipstick has faded to "lemon" (which any vintage Barbie collector will understand and has seen a zillion times), which is expected with these dolls. I did a (very good) touch-up some years back, but when I took her out of the box today, I see that the oxidation has progressed such that I need to redo them again. Or not. I could just leave her alone.
I don't know where the box of all the vintage clothing is at right now, so basically they just have to wear what they were put away with (not in, because dye leaches from the clothing into the vinyl of their "skin").
Cramps! Normally, I'd post a bunch of songs after seeing a fun show, but I don't have any Cramps songs in digital format or on CD. Everything is on vinyl.
Fun, fun, fun. Mr. G and I got all teenage and jumped into the pit. I like to be on the edge of that circle, enjoy the pushing and shoving and anonymous touching, and I don't mind a few little bruises or spilled beer. The last Cramps record I actually bought was Smell of Female back in...1988 maybe? A long time ago, at any rate. However, they've continued to produce perhaps paler versions of those old songs ever since, so I got the gist of the newer things they played. Lux and Ivy both appear well-preserved, also tiny. He wore much more makeup than she did. He gave his microphone fellatio in a way that made me think he found it comforting and familiar to be still pulling this "shocking" old trick. I jumped up and down and up and down and up and down and screamed and shoved guys who elbowed me and protected smaller girls from being squashed and danced around.
What is it with tiny, tiny girls who get in a mosh pit and then get all upset when they're bumped? I don't like to see anyone hurt, and I'm tall enough and strong enough to be hard to push around, but when someone obviously thinks it's her "right" to be up front and yet still unsullied...well, that's just foolishness. I'd appreciate a petite person's viewpoint here, actually.
I had beer dumped on me three times, got (chastely) felt up by many anonymous hands, and was treated to the happy sight of a beatific Mr. Glove smiling and shoving and bobbing up and down in a sea of sweaty guys, which is probably as close to seeing him have sex with guys as I'll ever get... I know the mosh pit is many people's worst nightmare, but it had been awhile, and I had so much fun that I'm almost okay with the fact that my ears are still ringing 24 hours later.
For
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)

I am a lazy girl, so I do most of whatever I do that doesn't demand action!!! from a recline, or cross-legged and hunched-over. Thinking is no exception, position-wise. Since I already did a picture off the back porch (porchlette, slab, whatever), here's the thing itself. I have decided that I like going and sitting out there for a few minutes first thing after I get up, even if I don't have to let the dog out any more, so this is my new thinking spot. Either that, or the chair or the cheesy little twin bed in prior photo sets. Or, for that matter, the coffee shop also shown in earlier, blurry images. I almost never sit in the "public" rooms of the house without Mr. Glove or company around.

As for the impulse purchase...well, just about anything I've got could potentially be called an impulse purchase, including the house. However, I think I'll try again tomorrow to take some tiara pictures. I have a couple shots but, on review, even I shouldn't look so cranky to be wearing a glittery crown. I may take a new set of official State portraits, preparing with both makeup and a hairbrush, in which case I will post those as the most impulsive purchase of recent years.
For
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Well, I don't have anything currently on display for a number of space issues, but these girls were in a box at the front of the closet, along with the little couch (note the pushpin legs!).

The fanatacism and tedious minutiae of collecting is so hopelessly uncool.
I was, for several years, a rabid collector of Barbie dolls, particularly those which were roughly my age or older. It's a very expensive hobby, even more so now that Mattel, the manufacturer of Barbie dolls, has finally begun to really respond to and address the interests/desires of the fan/collector market. Additionally, a number of larger-scale dolls have been introduced specifically for the adult collector market by various companies, and all of those require a fat wallet, as well. Much as I used to have drug toxicity criteria and chemotherapy regimens memorized, I once knew which years the doll had intaglio markings on her ass, which years the markings were in relief, and all the variations in what they said. I don't know any of that with certainty any more (not the cancer stuff, not the doll stuff).
The doll on the left is Barfly Stacey. Stacey is Barbie's British friend. Barbie has a teenage British cousin, too, Francie. Francie was, at one time, also available as a black British cousin. It was kind of cool that Barbie had a black cousin in the mid-1960s, though apparently no one really thought too hard about it at the time. Anyway. Mr. Glove used to go to these big doll shows with me and we'd wander around the dealer tables and, well, buy lots of stuff. Little plastic stuff. Barfly Stacey was purchased wearing this "dress" which I believe is actually a negligee. Her hair, which was originally curled in multi-directional flip, still maintains some original curl, but it's kind of fuzzy, and I never went to the trouble of "restoring" it to perfection because 1) I'm lazy, and 2) I liked how frowsy she looked. Mr. Glove helped me pick her out, and we agreed that her natural habitat was a bar with burned-out neon and a sticky counter and vending machines in the bathroom that spit out flavored condoms. She is, if I remember correctly, circa about 1969.
The doll on the right is named Dahlia. She actually has a long name to go along with the elaborate history I concocted for her, but I think it's enough to just let you know that I bothered to do such a thing rather than actually humiliating myself by recounting it. This specific doll sprang fully-formed into the world at the same time I did, i.e., 1966, though her identical siblings were being churned out starting in 1965. Unlike prior issues, these dolls had bending knees (three loud, distinct clicks, to a full 90 degree angle), which any kid who plays with dolls can tell you makes all the difference in the world. There was an earlier model, Miss Barbie, who had bending legs, but she also had a self-melting head and was ugly, and I think Mattel prefers to forget all about her. Dahlia is what is known as an "American Girl," apparently because of her pageboy hairstyle (no, this makes no sense to me, either). When I was still in the thick of collecting, the "AG" was the doll of choice, especially the side-part variations which would sell for thousands of dollars. My doll cost mere hundreds, and she was a gift to me from Mr. Glove on my birthday. I never would have bought such an expensive doll for myself (and never did, actually), but when I opened the box, my heart literally stopped, stumbled, and then went merrily along. As far as AGs go, she's not a particularly desireable or special model, but she's mine ;)
Her "playsuit" and shoes are original. Her original "geranium" lipstick has faded to "lemon" (which any vintage Barbie collector will understand and has seen a zillion times), which is expected with these dolls. I did a (very good) touch-up some years back, but when I took her out of the box today, I see that the oxidation has progressed such that I need to redo them again. Or not. I could just leave her alone.
I don't know where the box of all the vintage clothing is at right now, so basically they just have to wear what they were put away with (not in, because dye leaches from the clothing into the vinyl of their "skin").
Cramps! Normally, I'd post a bunch of songs after seeing a fun show, but I don't have any Cramps songs in digital format or on CD. Everything is on vinyl.
Fun, fun, fun. Mr. G and I got all teenage and jumped into the pit. I like to be on the edge of that circle, enjoy the pushing and shoving and anonymous touching, and I don't mind a few little bruises or spilled beer. The last Cramps record I actually bought was Smell of Female back in...1988 maybe? A long time ago, at any rate. However, they've continued to produce perhaps paler versions of those old songs ever since, so I got the gist of the newer things they played. Lux and Ivy both appear well-preserved, also tiny. He wore much more makeup than she did. He gave his microphone fellatio in a way that made me think he found it comforting and familiar to be still pulling this "shocking" old trick. I jumped up and down and up and down and up and down and screamed and shoved guys who elbowed me and protected smaller girls from being squashed and danced around.
What is it with tiny, tiny girls who get in a mosh pit and then get all upset when they're bumped? I don't like to see anyone hurt, and I'm tall enough and strong enough to be hard to push around, but when someone obviously thinks it's her "right" to be up front and yet still unsullied...well, that's just foolishness. I'd appreciate a petite person's viewpoint here, actually.
I had beer dumped on me three times, got (chastely) felt up by many anonymous hands, and was treated to the happy sight of a beatific Mr. Glove smiling and shoving and bobbing up and down in a sea of sweaty guys, which is probably as close to seeing him have sex with guys as I'll ever get... I know the mosh pit is many people's worst nightmare, but it had been awhile, and I had so much fun that I'm almost okay with the fact that my ears are still ringing 24 hours later.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-08 02:10 am (UTC)One year I actually had a budget, and sunk about ten bucks into Barbies and paint, and decorated one 'alleyway' section of a haunted house with giant spider legs, webbing, and red-splashed Barbie bits hanging from fishing line. It so worked. I still have a lot of the Barbie mutilations in a box somewhere.
I'm a sick person. :)
Cat's no help in this department. She takes over what's left and places them in weird lesbian tableaux around the house.
Not that you needed to know that...*shrugs*
no subject
Date: 2004-10-08 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-08 07:29 am (UTC)I miss you. That is all.
no subject
Date: 2004-10-08 09:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-08 09:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-10-08 09:16 am (UTC)I have the biggest grin on my face right now
Date: 2004-10-09 11:08 pm (UTC)I have definitely forgotten so much at this point too. Betcha have as many reference books as I have too.
BTW, that's love all right. Mr. Glove picked out an American Girl on his own and gave her to you as a birthday present? I'm seriously impressed, even without her being a sidepart or high color. She's still bright, unless like me - 'cause I did repaints too, that's all the result of the restoration you mentioned. She's still very pretty.
Stacie in her flowsy condition is still damn lovely and crisp.
Pushpin sofa? Not counting the feet, is that a Bratz piece?
You make me miss my AGs, a mint complete Truly Scrumptious, the one and only Billy Boy Mdvanni I had (now maybe people will believe I have combo near and far-sightedness. *g* Remember I didn't place her in your icon? If an icon image is too indistinct to me I usually have to wind up pulling and enlarging it to appreciate it), my ponytails. Heh, closest I got to a number one? A Titian number four and a brunette number three. All sold off.
Don't ask about the outfits I had to sell off too as I also had almost complete run of the 1600's outfits and a wonderful mod almost complete Francie outfit run plus two octagon cases. *sighs*
I'm still addicted, even without the valuable pieces left. What do I do instead because I can't buy any more? I sew, a lot. Really a lot. I adapt patterns, I draft patterns, I take apart junked but rare pieces of Barbie clothes that get dumped for free or up to a buck for people exactly like me and recreate patterns. Yep, it's an obsession as deep as slash and it's pretty life-long.
Ask
See what looking at just two of your girls did to me?
I don't know if I ever commented on your costume design and seamstress skills, but I'll say it now, I truly love your work. I hope you keep linking when you do more costumes.
Thanks for the very, very fun tour through your life. What this meme has shown me with everybody is that; neat or messy, other obsessions besides slash included or not, spouses and children, furnishings, books, places indoors and out, towns, etc., more connects all of us than not - merely by what pieces of our personality are revealed by our surroundings.
That could be scary but I'm weird enough to think it's fun. Thanks.
*hugs* :D