All this FMA must be bad for my brain.

I kind of dreamed that I wanted to wear this outfit - my new baggy green pleat flares, baggy shirt, blue fairtrade belt - as you do, you know? Outfit dreams aren't up there with hearing voices or anything. (Shirt and blouse are both from Anthro, so I'm not going to bother labelling anything.)

The thing is, I've been getting rather deeply involved in an online FMA roleplay. By FMA I mean Fullmetal Alchemist, and if you honestly aren't familiar with it, here's a wiki for you. It may or may not be harming my brain in subtle ways, especially if you consider that my main character is an Ishvalan man, and here I am - posing in front of the tennis courts, dressed like an Ishvalan man.

Don't believe me? Here's some Ishvalan garb for ya, in a couple of freeze-frames from the anime. See? That's what I look like.

It seems I'm taking the phrase "getting into character" to brand new heights, so help me Ishvala...

On the appropriateness of... stuff.

I fell behind with blogging my remix for three reasons, two of them very sad ones. Firstly, we were mega-busy, one house-guest replacing the other, so even though I found the time to take pictures, editing and blogging them was another matter. That's kind of a pleasant problem, really, when you're having too much fun to want to waste any time in front of the computer.

But then, I suddenly got a text from a friend. There had been a bomb outside one of the government buildings in Oslo, did I know if all my friends there were okay? Suddenly, Facebook was my favourite website in the world, because it let me know instantly that almost all my friends were safe. Almost. One guy, I had to wait several hours to hear from. I almost wept with relief when I saw he was okay.

There was a second tragedy in Oslo that day, an even bigger one - the same psycho who set the car-bomb got away, went to the Norwegian labour party's summer camp on an island outside of Oslo, and opened fire on the teenagers there. Over seventy kids and tour leaders were murdered. The youngest boy was fourteen. There are not enough tears in the world.

The psycho has long since been caught. He calmly informed police that he's trying to start World War III, because he thinks Norway has been "occupied" by non-white immigrants, and that we will all thank him in sixty years' time. I've always been proud that Norway doesn't have the death penalty. Now, I'm not so sure.

But, the psycho aside. There has been more psychotic activity, this time in London. Rioters have ripped this city apart - allegedly out of anger for a man who was shot dead by police, but that was quickly revealed as a lame excuse. What they are doing here is using a person's death to start riots in order to rob shops that sell things like computers, TV's, phones and video-games. Days of riots and robbery, all across the capital. Days of fearing for the safety of loved ones who live in or near the riot zones.

So, in the light of all this evil and mayhem, I felt it would be a bit... inappropriate, really, blogging about clothes and shoes. I finally pulled myself together and uploaded the last of my remix pictures in one long stream because well, I started it, so I might as well finish. Ironically, having such a long break from blogging has made me realise what I want this blog to be about. Comics and clothes, baby. Yeah.

Sorry about this wall of depressing text. Even looking for pictures from the riots, or from the ruins of the Norwegian govenrment building, or the piles of flowers and letters for the dead teenagers to paste in here, feels wrong. One girl was quoted in the Norwegian press saying, "I hope I will never again have to choose between the funerals of my friends." Those words clutch at my heart like desperate hands.

Done, at last!

Beholdens, the last of my 30 for 30 outfits! A little late to the party, but what the hey, better late than never.

This is another outfit I like that I owe entirely to the remix - would not have thought of pairing this dress up with purple stuff otherwise.

I especially like how my necklace ties the whole blue and purple thing together. I paid £2.50 for it on Portobello road, which equates to what, four dollars? Not bad, right?

Whew! Glad that's over and done with for now!

Does this count...?

Does it count as recycling if a) essentially the same outfit, only b) not the same pair of black pants? I basically wore this at the end of my last remix - well, with a wider belt, actually - but it's an outfit I happen to like.

The pictures aren't exactly good, and the location isn't exactly exciting. What can I say, I think my energy was just running out a bit at the end of this remix.

Only one outfit left now. Ironically, I still have ideas for even more outfits I could have made out of all these clothes...

Sort of a Grechian vibe...

That's what I was going for with this outfit - except I couldn't find my brown leather sandals for some reason. But still, with my bun, my white dress and my silver bracelet, I felt sufficiently Grecian to go to the British Museum with my mum.

In the bathrooms there, they have those fan heaters that you put your hands into, and then you watch your skin move around as it blows your hands dry. It never occurred to me to take my bracelet off, but it turned out the thing isn't solid silver after all, only brass coated with silver. And so the bracelet overheated and burned my arm!

It was just a little burn, mind - I yanked my arm out pretty quickly when I felt the bracelet heat up. But yeah, I am officially the most accident-prone person ever...

Pastels and patterns

When I was about seven years old, combining purple and pink was the most exciting thing ever. Obviously things have changed since then, but I still got a little excited about wearing this:

It's just a shame I could barely get any decent pictures - after three days of being photographed by my man, I was all rusty on my good all "press-the-shutter-and-run" technique.

But you get the gist. Pastels and patterns, oh my! If I didn't induce migraines, I'm sure I was responsible for at least one nosebleed - not too shabby, I think.

Radness

Photos snapped on the way to meeting friends in Shoreditch. Same skirt two days in a row, le shock!

But anyway. This map. Radness incarnate. I want to break this graffiti down from the wall and take it home.

I suppose it's kind of topical, too - the England is always bossing poor Ireland around, isn't it?