Monday, November 29, 2010

floral and plaid, green and tangerine

floral & plaid in pukey green & tangerine
gold glitter
lookin spooked
not sure why I look so spooked in that last photo. I wore this outfit on Saturday to run some errands. I hardly ever wear these socks, but I saw them hanging out of my sock drawer & then I saw this 60s floral wiggle skirt & I thought they'd go well together. I had just washed this boxy cropped 60s plaid jacket, and so I added it to my ensemble. I love when an outfit comes together like this -- in little over 5 minutes. I have had these 70s platforms for so long now -- goodness, maybe up to 7 years. I have lots of shoes & for some reason, I always come back to these.
There is no way a pair of new platforms would hold up for this long, which is why I am forever committed to vintage.

Outfit: 60s cropped jacket, 60s floral skirt, and 70s platforms (thrifted), vintage gold round sunglasses (Long Beach Veteran's Flea Market), green seahorse brooch (boutique in Nashville, TN), floral socks (can't remember)

Sunday, November 28, 2010

nakedcowgirl vintage: SHOP UDATE

OMG. That took forever. I just added 9 pieces to the shop and it took several hours, and now my back aches & I feel old. But then I think about the awesome pieces in the shop, and I feel better. I bought a photo-studio set up this weekend. It was unspeakably expensive, and I still don't think the lighting is very good in these photos. Pete said that I should take it back, and will just rig something up ourselves. we'll see.

anyway, here are some of my favorite items from today's shop listings:

1950s botanical print dress w/peter pan collar & pintuck detail

50s botancial print dress

Vintage Mauve Mini Trench Coat
vintage mauve trenchcoat

1980s sequin stained-glass bustier (I kept a very similar one for myself)
80s sequin bustier
80s sequin stained-glass bustier

Vintage Handmade Knit Autumn-Colors Cardigan
Autumn Knit
Autumn Knit Long Cardingan

Be sure to check out all my other listings here. I'll be adding more delicious items to the shop throughout the week.

ciao for now,

Crystal Lee

Saturday, November 27, 2010

a nostalgia for innocence






I spent my Friday in the Orange Circle, browsing the antique shops, with my niece Anna, and my girlfriend, Desiree. Anna found a pair of porcelain doves in one store that she was very fond of. She coddled them & pet them as if they were real & we had to visit them 3x while in the store. Then we got hot chocolates, which Anna spilled all over the cute little 50s dress that I put her in, but I can't be that mad - I'm equally as messy. Then we went for pizza, and I ate until my tummy ached, while Anna picked off the cheese & basically only ate that. I don't know how that gal has so much energy; she truly eats like a bird.

I recently thrifted the innocent-provincial dress I'm wearing in today's post, and instantly thought of this dress from Charles Anastase's Spring 2011 line:
Charles Anastase Spring 2011

Yay! My own almost-Charles Anastase dress. I'm giddy!

Outfit: AA tights, Elie Tahari shoes (thrifted), dress (thrifted).

Thanks to Desi & Pete for taking the photos.
Image from

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Swans in Love

Long Beach
Pete is sick of posing
Swans in Love
Thanksgiving w/Family
San Pedro, CA

Oh hi! I hope all you Americans had a delightful Thanksgiving! I spent a lazy, mellow afternoon with the family. We went out to eat for our Thanksgiving meal, which is a first, but it was actually pretty nice. Then we went to San Pedro, one of my favorite little towns, just over the bridge from Long Beach. It's a hilly, quiet town, frozen in time. The weather was perfect. We threw around the football (you should see me throw a football; it's quite a sight), and walked around a bit. My dad wasn't there because he moved back to the South (after 33 years in California) about 6 months ago. My other brother didn't join us in San Pedro because he had to go home for a nap. Before the family came over, Pete & I went down to the beach so that we could take some pictures (all my idea, of course). I think Pete is getting a little sick of posing. Thank you for being such a sweetheart, my Peteheart.

Wearing this mini dress & "swans in love" hair clip, I feel a little like Margot Tenenbaum. Isn't this hair clip insanely cute! I got it on Etsy a couple of months ago. I'm dressed like a 12 year old again, and I don't care, and I'm thankful for that!

Outfit: everything thrifted

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Do you mind if I don’t smoke?

Title quote from Groucho Marx.

over half my life

Picture 5

Picture 4

Picture 6

Picture 3

Fashion Park was our hood, but we came of age just over the cement block fence, where Holy Family Cathedral & private school could be found. Here, we learned about life and vice. The playground was for “scamming”, the rooftop for talking about sex and boys, and the grassy field for smoking GPC cigarettes. I was 13 years old, drunk off two Zimas, and I decided I’d smoke a whole pack of cigarettes so as to get a mild high. I’d have to puff fast and I’d have to smoke a bunch if I wanted that light-headed feeling that all the older kids were talking about. On these holy grounds, torn out pages from porn mags were always strewn about, and here I was, the daughter of missionaries – a heathen – "puffing the hell fume in God's clean air”. Little did I know that this occasion would mark the beginnings of a enduring and volatile lover affair with cigarettes.

Smoking urchins bode well in those day: It was never hard getting an adult to buy my cigarettes, and they were so cheap then - a mere $2.75 a pack. I could bum that money in a few minutes. Plus, I didn’t smoke much then, so a pack would last me a couple of weeks. And if I didn’t have my own cigarettes, well, I could always take drags, puffs, hits, off of others’ cigarettes. I’ve now been smoking for what seems like a lifetime; my comically long Capris – a time line – marking the different stages of my life. My memories unfurl through clouds of smoke.

I suppose I was rebelling in those days and to some extent, I still am. In Jr. High, I got caught smoking in the girls’ bathroom. Mr. Leon, the school counselor, who never, otherwise, scolded me and, in fact, always seemed to find my antics amusing, dragged me into his office, and this time he was irate. “Do you have a death wish?” I felt awful but his disapproval didn’t outweigh my desire to smoke. Did I believe in the virtue of vice even then?

In my teens, I quit smoking during my “straight-edge” phase, an ideology I had really only embraced as a means of meeting cute boys. And I may have quit for a boyfriend or two. But real conviction cannot remain steady on the shifting tides of pubescence.

During my roller derby days, my coach asked me “Do you want to be a smoker or an athlete?” I wanted both. I loved to announce my desire for a cigarette after a particularly grueling practice, hoping to intimidate my opponents. Similarly, I haughtily rode my bike from London to Paris smoking a good deal of the time. I was not a statistic. I was a smoker and more fit than most.

And were not the first flickers of love’s fire ignited on account of my smoking habit? Had I not burned several cigarette holes into the interior of my rental car and called Pete seeking his expertise, would we be together today?

Let’s get real here: The other day, I spent damn near $8.00 for my “luxury” brand Capri 120s. In 2012, all cigarette boxes will feature a heinous picture of cancerous black lungs. Smoking is frowned upon more and more, and I find myself drifting alone, further & further from the scene that I am in, just so that I can have a smoke. I am starting to feel like a leper. And then the desperation – like the frantic search for a lighter when I want to smoke while driving. Crooked fingers desperately probing every crack and crevice – the mad sweaty life-threatening search. After 31 years, I am compelled to quit smoking once and for all, and the day of reckoning is January 1.

I invite personal growth, and I expect to learn a lot about myself when I quit smoking. When I can’t retreat into the shadows to smoke, maybe I’ll find that I’m not as social as I think I am. And think of the strength I will gain when I finally engage my will-power?

It ain’t going to be easy, that’s for sure, which is why I have a plan. I’m going to start cutting down on the number of cigarettes I smoke daily, read “The Easy Way to Quit Smoking,” get hypnotized, go to more yoga classes, and cut down on driving for the first couple of weeks that I am cigarette-free. I suppose I’m telling ya’ll this because it’s been on my mind lately, and I also want to hold myself accountable.

Thanks for reading along.

Images from an art deco textiles book (I forget the name) &,

Friday, November 19, 2010

Woody Guthrie in New York, 1943

Picture 7
Picture 8
Picture 11
Picture 10
Woody Guthrie in New York, 1943
Picture 13

He was a Dust Bowl refugee, a working class hero, a fascist hater, a union man, son of the mad, a train hopping, boxcar riding, guitar wielding, heart mending, song writing, story-tellin, foot-stompin, jig-dancin, true American. Woody Guthrie, on the sea, and on the land, you sang our song, and my heart bleeds with yours.

Images from

I feel it all

this is what I wore:




and this is what I feel:

“Classic blue” gal has taken over my style and put me in Levi’s 501s (the only jeans that fit me right, even my 70s jeans by JTF, an acronym for Jeans that Fit, don’t fit as well as the classic 501s.), and late 80s/early 90s indigo-blue crop knit sweater by Express Tricot. Express (Tricot), known for their adventurous prints & great fit, did some great things in the late 80s/early 90s. I have a lot of their bandage mini skirts in my wardrobe, and I adore em. Today, Express is somewhat of a bland brand, but in their heyday, they were right on. Maybe, I look a little grungy in this outfit on account of the ripped jeans, but generally, I don’t embrace that style. So as not to mislead, I stuck a stormy blue flower in my hair. I hope ya’ll aren’t bored to death of my room, but there was good lighting & it’s not as embarrassing for me posing in my bedroom as it is out on the streets.

I feel inspired and full of life, and I’m taking this energy to the dance floor tonight. I’m going to a monthly juke joint called The Fish Fry. I’m going to wear a bullet bra. It should be a real hoot!

Happy Friday, friends!

Outfit: everything thrifted except the flower from Gardens of Whimsy

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

orange and gray daze

I have the hardest time waking up early in the morning. How I've managed to hold a 8:30-5:00 p.m. job for as long as I have is beyond me. I can't wait for the day when I roll out of bed at a decent time and head to my own vintage shop. My head is filled with songs & this is one song which plays most morns: "Waking up is hard to do" to the tune of Neil Sedaka's "Breaking up is hard to do". So, this is me in the morning wearing orange & gray. These days (as in this week) I'm interested in the contrast between bold and muted colors.
orange & gray



Outfit: Missoni slouchy herringbone sweater (thrifted along time ago. I found 3 Missioni sweaters in the same thrift store on this day; I sold 2 on ebay), vintage Anne Klein orange silk shirt w/perfect pointed collar (recently thrifted), vintage gray skirt (thrifted),Calvin Klein pumps (thrifted) and gray tights from Target.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

a few of my favorite things

this knit jumpsuit. this sheer polka dot wrap. these dead stock Bass oxfords. (last two thrifted in Joshua Tree)

new vintage Bass oxfords
Hope ya'll are having a great weekend so far. I'm happy with mine. Fight Crew won their game last night. I nearly wept to see my old team play with such heart. Today, I'm going to go play some bingo on this perfectly sunny Sunday.

Friday, November 12, 2010

the contents of my brain

are strewn all over my house.
Bacchus in a hat







a room of many horses

Our home is always a work in progress. I'd like to note that I HATE Blinds, but I've yet to find curtains that fit the size of my windows or that look right. I've found many vintage curtains at the thrift store & when I try to hang them, they look awful. I may have to make my own, but I fear I'll be half-ass in the execution. Any advice on this issue would be appreciated.

Bon weekend, gang!
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