THE BAKERY: 2009

Sunday, June 14, 2009

forever is a long time

I recently got two new tattoos of a bunny rabbit on my right index finger and my brother's nickname on my left wrist. Ok, yeah, they're bootleg. One guy told me I was thrifty in the fact that everything I own isn't more than ten bucks. Including my tattoos. We had a little giggle over it. To any normal person, my wrist tattoo is less than desirable. I fucking love it. It's childlike and well, bubbly.
These pictures are shit, you can't see the turquoise on it at all. Eventually I'm going to finish it, by adding lighting effects to make it look like actual bubbles. For now, I'm down with just the outline.

Getting a tattoo on your wrist fucking hurts.

The bunny is by far my favorite.

Don't ask me why I got either of them. I'm not the kind of person to have some deep, heart wrenching story, or life lesson behind it all.

My name is Cupcake. I'm addicted to cute and I love my brother.

My ass is simple. The way to my heart is anything pink and sweet (no sprinkles fuck that shit), and a fluffy puppy.

Friday, June 12, 2009

big shit poppin

FLOYD JOHNSON & MAGGIE P.

So, there. A few pictures from Sexy Sunday, which, is now formally The Living Room. There's actually 8 thousand and a half more pictures but it's around 5 in the A.M. and this is about all the patience I had in me.

Keep checking Floyd's site and/or his facebook for updates on his photography and future projects. If you are currently not "friends" with him, no big. http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/profile.php?id=206300753&ref=ts

If that seems long and excessive, I'm sorry. Blogging is as technologically aware as I get. I'm only human.

For now, I'm off to pretend to sleep the rest of the darkness away until I have to wake up in a few hours to tend to spit up and diapers.

Mama's gotta eat.

Always on tha grind.

return the favor

Sunday, June 7, 2009

BLAME IT/IT'S LADIES NIGHT

It's been a while, my bad. I'd like to start things off by thoroughly apologizing to anyone and everyone I came in contact with at the Mt. Vernon party. I went and let my ass get way too rowdy for my own good. The punishment for which was a not-so-love affair with my best friend's bathroom. Face first. I was going to be all cute and say blame it on the alcohol but really, I can't blame anyone else but me. I was the one who drank my weight in vodka. Through a silly straw. I'm not a fan of the Party 'til You Puke! lifestyle. I like my insides to be just that. Inside. Also, getting that fucked up leads to this alternative personality that only comes out when provoked by WAY TOO MUCH liquor. She's not very quiet, a little rude, and dances on anything moving. To anyone I generally party with, I really hope that is the last time that She comes around. I don't really like doing damage control for myself the night after an amazing party.

So, sorry again. I promise to honor my limits next time guys, and hope to have a nicer, less confrontational time at the next party.

Fast forward to today.

I call it SEXY SUNDAY. I was asked to do the hair and makeup for a *photoshoot for Floyd Johnson. Who (or whom? I'm not up with my grammar lately), by the way, is THE coolest guy on the fucking planet. He's one of those guys that you walk with down the street and you just feel your cool points just ticking higher and higher. And he has no idea. His "cool" is unassuming. Which makes him that much cooler.

He had this idea for a sort of vintage 70s provocative feel meets todays designer heels and lifestyle. It was seven hours of hairspray, false eyelashes, fur coats, and half ass cheeks. My best friend, Kelsey Wing and the lovely Miss Shannon Yoho did the styling. WITH THEIR OWN CLOTHES. Believe me, the caps lock is necessary. All in all there was about 6 outfit changes and each one is just sexy sexy sexy. I dare say some shots might even be drool worthy.

Floyd doesn't use anything digital. He previously had a showing at Base Cooperative Gallery downtown on Main St. called We Still Use Film. Basiclly, he uses this tiny ass 90s style point and shoot camera. The product is a nostalgic representation of today. It's as if what we just did happened years ago but with everyday relevance. Instant memories. In a way it sort of sounds sad. But when you see the pictures, it doesn't give off that feel at all. It's like taking polaroids, only less annoying. You know what I'm talking about, everyone takes a polaroid and thinks they're a photographer. His style and ideas about photography are so simple yet progressive.

I say remember his name.

Because one day his bandwagon is going to be huge.

*the pictures will be developed and posted fairly soon.

Monday, May 25, 2009

twisted teal

@ CIRCLE K.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Kanye or nay?

So everyone talks about music. Everyone debates and rationalizes why they in fact are more musicaly aware than you and everyone they know. I personally think I have a VERY extensive collection of EPIC music stored inside me, but I'm probably preaching to the choir, right?

But then, there are those times where for some reason how we react to tragedy is abandoning the things we love. Like, I've had a shitty year and stopped listening to a lot of music because I couldn't be happy. Mental, I know. I've since recovered from the shit storm and am getting back to that sassy center of gravity I'm apparently known for.

Having said that, pardon my lateness on the subject, but I have to ask:

Do you take Kanye West seriously?

Honesty is the best policy, and I can honestly say if I ever met the guy I think I would have a hard time finding anything to say to the guy that wasn't a little rude.

His latest album is yes, the best he's done. In my opinion. Which I'm allowed to have just like you. I however, can not listen and fall in love with every track and apply it to my life like everyone I know. Same with Weezy but I SO will not touch that topic right now.

I love beats, and synth, and music that just sounds like a party. I like catchy hip hop and witty rhymes. I have serious love for underground/pop culture. (thats kind of an oxymoron no? haha) The "I took the road less traveled" cinderella stories of artists, musicians, who marched to the beat of their own drum. Genuine outcasts of sorts who prevailed over whatever that invisible foe is we rebels without a cause spend our lives bitching about.

Because of this, I can not show much love for our Mr. West.

All I get out of his Louis V. name dropping, "hater blocker" wearing, overly confidant rhymes is WANNABE HIPSTER. He would be like the kid that you see at a show with 20 billion accessories from all sorts of fashion trends that totally don't go together, who's never heard of this band, or that artist, but knows everyone loves it and goes to say he went.

A nice try, but not quite sort of thing.

Now I know, Kanye West could have totally touched you and has a good grip on your heart. To that I say, awesome! and don't let me or anyone else ruin that for you. But for me, there will be no touching. I get my kicks elsewhere. I just can't get into it so far as to say that I love one of Kanye's tracks.

Love is a pretty strong sentiment to be throwing around.

I'm just not that kind of girl.

(All this was brought on cause I heard that Flashing Lights song. Which is so far, the only song I can semi-get into. Mainly for the chorus. And the line, "..Martin with no Gina". I will admit I thought that was cute.)