POST-APOCALYPTIC HOODIE-VEST NOW SOLD IN REAL LIFE STORE. BELIEVE IT!

Now, you can find these sweet vests (and a few other designs - like this coat) in a fantastically cool sf boutique! And, uh...people are buying them.

My lovely friends, Holly & Michael, opened 'SHOTWELL' in downtown San Francisco (36 Geary Street, between Kearny and Grant). And this joint is definitely worth a visit! Great store, great people, great designers. waa-haa-haa :)

These fab hoodie-vests are all hand made by me and no two are alike (so far)! Reversible and muti-faceted, these little #'s are mostly 100% wool (some are wool blends). *i'll be experimenting with knits soon*. They're great for all seasons and all outfits {I wear my vest with old over-sized T-shirts, tights and boots or high-wasted skirts and dresses}. But i hear they go with everything.

Also, while in the process of finagling my garments into other sf boutiques, I'd be happy to create a lovely custom vest for you...or your girlfriend, mom, grandma (etc.) ~shoot me an e-mail if you're interested~

And boys, don't worry! I'm in the process of designing a sweet man version inspired by my excessively cool friend Daniel (see troll-king picture below).

DANIEL THINKS YOU SHOULD BUY A HOODIE

See Daniel Hetschel's artwork at 'Shotwell' too!!!

YES; THIS IS A FASHION BLOG, AND YOU MAY BE THINKING, 'WHY DOES SHE KEEP POSTING PICTURES OF HER FRIENDS?'

Meet Jen.
Since hiring Jennifer as my 'life coach', my attitude has improved tremendously. *uh...that's a joke. although it might not be a bad idea*
Besides being a fantastic lady; Jen inspires me to move forward...to think about future possibilities. She is a rare source of genuine and meaningful advice; a gem of a friend! A shout out is necessary; my appreciation is bursting!

BAM.

* WATCH OUT MASHSF ! ! ! *

Zombie bike messenger. Oct. 31, 2008.

SABRINA, DON'T JUST STARE AT IT, EAT IT.

Meet Patrick Bateman, an ultra-successful financial analyst who only surrounds himself with the most aesthetically pleasing, beautiful, and costly artifacts. Patrick's acute taste inspires my modern rendition of the power suit; a type of ladies suit stereotypically associated with the 1980s and characterized by sharp cuts and stiff rigidity. The magic of the power suit lies in the way you feel when you wear it: invincible, professional, grown-up. Thanks YSL!

AN ADDITION TO 'THE LAST DREAM LEFT WORTH BELIEVING STARTS WITH ANIMALS SHAPES'

A different set of carebear sheets used in this blast-from-the-past jumpsuit...
...belonged to a small christian boy in Fresno, CA and served the same purpose as the below carebare sheets. Same existential dilemma, different way of dealing. The star button was salvaged from a little girls pink fairy costume and it's probable that this nice christian boy...grew up to dress in drag.

A LONG SHEAR OF LIGHT AND THEN A SERIES OF LOW CONCUSSIONS

It's the end of the world...and you still look hot!
Inspired by some of the most fantastic dystopian science fiction artistic endeavors, these fully reversible post-apocalyptic brobdingnagian hoodies (with optional fold down collars), are protective and fashionable.

This fully reversible wool coat...
...is also ideal for the day that chemical spill from a rail car releases an 'airborne toxic event'. Don't forget to take a picture of yourself as a souvenir, because by the end of the day you'll be dead!

THE LAST DREAM LEFT WORTH BELIEVING STARTS WITH ANIMALS SHAPES

The most common thrift store bed sheets include...1. flowers, 2. plaid, 3. 80's splatter paint/pastel tribal prints and 4. sleepy childhood prints/scenes of cartoons which were popular when I was leedle (my current favorite). I initially started making clothes from second-hand bedsheets to save money. But through the process of salvaging these fantastic bedsheets, my designs became inspired by the story's they softly whisper and the people I imagine they belonged to. These garments represent a magical world of possibilities; the circle game we play...the sweet nostalgia of the past, and the...uh, potential for an amazing future. Bam.
The collar on this double-breasted, over-sized casual shirt...
...is alive with carebears. I imagine these particular sheets belonged to a sad boy in Santa Cruz, CA. His agnostic parents purchased sweet 700 thread count sheets in an effort to provide comfort during the year his first existential dilemma finagled it's way into his dreams.

The potential for the interaction of these stories is also inspiring. i present to you...
...a tailored shirt (complete with pin tucks, hidden placket, fisheye darts and whopping big cuffs). The back of the shirt and collar are constructed from hello kitty sheets that belonged to the tragic 12-year-old daughter of a poor, single woman in Colorado Springs. She dreamed of snow skiing and having sufficient funds to buy new sheets. The collar stand is a red plaid sheet that belonged to a freshman boy at University of Colorado, Boulder...a snowboarding anthropology major from Ashland, OR. The shirt speaks of the day the little girl and bigger boy collided on the sloops and the scandalous/star-crossed love affair that blossomed.

The sleeves on this raglan shirt...
...are made of the same red plaid sheet (belonging to the same boy - 6 years later). The collar is a 10-year-old flower sheet (the year is 1998) that belonged to the snowboarding boy's parents. The shirt tells the story of his relationship with his mom and dad, who died the previous year. Shorty after, he stored his parents sheets in a closet he doesn't open...next to the his nostalgic plaid ones, and switched to soild black.

IF I'M SEWN INTO SUBMISSION, I CAN STILL COME HOME TO...

Nikki & Anna

Deep in the the depths of heartbreak, I discovered 2 gems. I met Nikki and Anna at school. All working towards graduate degree's in fashion design, we possess similar philosophies on making things. Nikki is from Portland and Anna from Baltimore. They are fantastically talented and beautiful people. A few months into our friendship we embarked on a lengthy road trip from San Francisco, through Montana and across Idaho and Washington to Portland, Oregon. Upon reflection, the trip can be summed up as a gluttonous whirlwind of thrift-stores, drinking establishments, rivers, lakes, rapids, trees, trading posts, strip clubs, coffee, dancing and singing. Portland, which until this trip had reeked of bitter nostalgia, began to transform into a place of hope and new beginnings.

Celene & Mcnulty
I met Celene when i first moved to San Francisco via a random craigslist living situation. We initially bonded over; 1. similar upbringings in dingy surf towns, 2. independent pasts (and recently turned dependent presents) and, 3. a strong resentment of our 9-5 jobs. I left the home we shared for a medium-length stint in bed at my parents house/a heavily self-medicated trip to Berlin. Upon returning to the united states and eventually to San Francisco for a weekend, a spontaneous decision was made to move back, so Celene and i signed a lease and (after suffering in an alternate existence for quite some time), I returned to the city of my ultimate discontent to suffer deep inside the actual reality of my situation. Celene (perhaps against her will, but with no resentment), became (pardon the cliche) my shoulder to cry on. Recently, while sitting on our porch one ghetto Friday evening...we shared a chuckle in reflection of my condition during those, uh...several months. Our conversation quickly and naturally changed gears to something fantastically not serious, but it needs to be said (as loud as cyber space can scream it) that Celene saved my fucking life! I am forever indebted to her. Mcnulty (Celene's dog) is an eccentric little creature who came into my life 6 months ago. his neurosis includes; making gremlin noises, howling, not being able to rest without a pillow for his tiny head, possessing only 2 teeth and weighing 4 pounds. I love him dearly.

Leonard Raymond Bessemer

I met Leonard in Thailand...both of us confused children at the time; him with a dirty blond bowl-cut and me with a peace-turtle tattoo(which naturally and unfortunately continues to exist). When we returned to the US of A, he became my roommate. Leonard is a true individual...a refreshing breath of authenticity when everything in the world looks plastic. He is an escape from my sometimes lame reality. I believe Leonard and I are searching for something similar...some kind of harmony between two intangibles, a form which we haven't yet designed and a context which we can't properly describe. Har-har-har.

The Fam

They say you taught me how to talk, I bet you wish you'd taught me how to stop. You're far away now, wish I could take a walk with you someplace.

If I were a more talented writer, I could articulate the appreciation I have for my family with graceful words, but I'm not.
I love them very much.