Rijeka Adventures

Friday evening, we set out on a great journey.
The Grand Vizier, the EvilCatTM stayed behind to hold the fort, while husband, Pupastis first the Magnificent, our Basset and I set out into the far away lands of the sea (or as far away as an hour and half drive will get you).

The first stop was somewhere around midnight, on a petrol station by the highway, where we engaged in a half an hour long mystic ritual known as Changing The Car Lightbulb On the Driver's Side Of A VW Golf.  Seeing how there is about 5 cm space between the car lights and the car battery, this was in equal parts frustrating, puzzling, hilarious, and dirty. The Magnificent one helped keep us on our toes by sitting on the driver's seat and occasionally switching on the blinkers.

We arrived in Rijeka somewhere around 1:30 AM, to be greeted by the Grand old Bug, the family Labrador Grand Duke of some 15  years, and the horrible monster Doctor Ferdinand TinyCat, the resident evil scientist in feline form.

Now, Pupastis first the Magnificent has already met this creature some weeks back, while it was still learning it's evil crafts, and had defeated it successfully by covering it in her drool, the stickiest, ickiest substance known to man, but now the monster had grown, and it was clear that she will have her work cut out for her. All through the night we could hear her muttering to herself and scratching on the door, anxious to face this foul fiend.
In the morning, we bade our brave ally farewell and good luck, left her with the Queen of the house and Dr TinyCat's human henchman, and set off to get some culture.

We visited the Naval and History Museum of Rijeka, situated in the Governor's Palace, where many strange things were witnessed.
Amongst others a pair of odd statues:

And a desk that seems more fitting for the office of the Patrician of Ankh Morpork:

 We  learned more about Mr Gabriele d'Annunzio, an Italian poet who on the 12th of September 1919, led the seizure of the city by 2,000 Italian nationalist irregulars of the city, leading them on in his red Fiat 501. He then proceeded to throw gigantic parties all over the city and in the Palace itself, declare Rijeka/Fiume an independent state, and declared himself a Duce. D'Annunzio ignored the Treaty of Rapallo and declared war on Italy itself, only finally surrendering the city in December 1920 after a bombardment by the Italian navy.

We also visited the Museum's exhibition of all things sailboat, where husband, an old sea wolf that he is, instructed me in the names of some knots, and where I completely failed to recognize any ship types in the numerous paintings hanging on the walls. Really, what is the difference between a barque and a galleon? I am ashamed to say that I do not know.

We then drove to the nearby historic town of Kastav, 378 m above the sea, filled with strange narrow, winding streets and remnants of old churches and thick city walls (though, who could have reached the city that high up is a mystery to me). We also visited the churchyard, with old marble graves set in an arched hallway leaning on the church, and where I hung out with some old church bells:

 When we finally got home, (after meeting some friends of ours who we see all too rarely), we witnessed the horrific balcony-jungle battle:

 The image itself is somewhat obscured by the smoke coming from husband's cigarette the burning wreckage of evil Doctor TinyCats laboratory, and we watched in shock and awe at the epic battle before us. This horrible duel continued all through our lunch, but Pupastis First the Magnificent emerged, at last, victorious, the evil fiend once again defeated by her awesome drool-powers and then promptly dispatched to the bathtub by the Queen of the house, all under the watchful eye of The Grand Duke himself.

We departed soon after the victory celebrations of ice cream and Turkish coffee, our brave heroine firmly asleep under my feet.

Henky's amazing Henna adventure

brace yourselves, this is a long one.There are pictures though!

It all started a long long time ago- last Friday, when I finally decided to say goodbye to artificial hair dyes and go natural and use henna. It can't be that difficult I thought, there is a bunch of India shops and herbal hippie new age establishments that are sure to stock it. After all, I used to use it all the time, for body art, and even made money that way one ancient summer (wouldn't you just love to know that story, eh? ). And after all, henna is henna, no?
So I fired up my internets, opened the chat window with my friend, who hennas her waist-long hair for years now, and thought, cheerfully, over my morning coffee- this will be a breeze.
You can guess by now, that this was just the beginning of my troubles. My henna-haired friend informed me, once again, that finding decent henna is next to impossible, that those mostly offered are fakes, and proceeded to crush my enthusiasm.

Oh, I will not be thwarted so easily, I proclaimed, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and attacked internet forums and henna-related websites, ebaying for all it's worth, using domestic sale sites, all in search of the elusive high quality henna. The pure stuff, the Goooood stuff.
"You used to be able to buy it on the market, straight from Turkey, but you can't get it here anymore", said my henna-haired tormentor, "but if you know someone in Bosnia you might have better luck."
A-ha!, I thought. I know a BUNCH of people who are sure to be able to help me. So I asked my work colleagues from the Balkan south, and one of them informed me that yes, she used to henna her hair, and that she could get me some, and send it over my way as soon as someone will be coming on a business trip to my city. But the problem is, she said, they only sell it by 3/4 of a kilo. My henna-haired friend said- get me three boxes.

But me, being me, could never ever wait so long. So on Friday night, I tried dyeing my hair as close to my natural hair colour as possible, proudly proclaiming to my husband- Tonight, you shall see a rare and unusual sight, which nobody has seen since the last century- My real hair colour!
"Cool...", said he, with little faith.
I'll show him, I thought, and slathered even more mousse dye in my hair. But it was difficult to stay serious and determined with a bunch of foam in my hair, and even more difficult to take the dye seriously, due to he previously mentioned fact that it was... brownish foam.

Would you guess it, I didn't show him. Turned out that two applications of the moosey goodness were not enough to kill years of red pigment loged deep inside my hair, so I went to bed, crestfallen, swearing revenge in henna-form, first thing tomorrow.


First thing Saturday morning, I got dressed, in colourful clothes, put my very-colourful  hair up, and off I went to town, on the hunt for the elusive BodyArtQuality henna.

It took me 3 hours to find a shop that had it, and after battling a very self- important and rude new-age saleslady (and being almost kicked out of one India-shop by the hipster employee for even daring to ask if they stock henna), I had the two green and red packages in my hands.
And when I finally got home, drizzled upon by the anemic rain , i remembered the lemons. Which I seriously needed for the whole process. And which I had, naturally, forgotten.
Luckily, the shop downstairs had some (which is a miracle in itself really), and after I overpaid them, I pranced back home proudly.
And while the chamomile tea was cooling, and the lemons were getting intimate with some apple vinegar, I mixed up  henna and turmeric and red paprika powder,feeling as excited as a puppy...

well, ok, maybe not THIS puppy. She is just slightly puzzled by those new strange scents in our house.
The lovely colourful powders

eventually turned into this, after I added the unholy love triangle of chamomile tea, apple vinegar and lemons.
I'm pretty sure there is some olive oil in there too, which seemed like a good idea at the time.

And then I let it all alone for an hour, circling around it and giving it strange, shifty looks.
An hour and 15 minutes later, I was wrapped in cling-wrap and a stylish turban.

And smelled like a salad. A delicious, pigmented salad.
After that I took a short nap. A five-hour one.

This is going great, I thought when I woke up, I could maybe leave it in even longer, maybe even overnight. Ooohh what glorious colour I could get then!
And then the running started. At first I didn't even notice it, all nice and warm that it was, dripping from the back of my neck,down my back and chest, mossy-green and full of pigments which I knew make pretty marks on the skin. About half a second after that, the second running started, that of me, to the bathroom.
Buggerit! Millenium hand and shrimp! I exclaimed, wiping it off as fast as I could and stuffing tissues up the back of my neck because I had a friend waiting for me downstairs to have coffee. I survived, amazingly stain free, and as soon as my hair was half-dry, I took the first photo:

I knew it would take me three days for the colour to fully develop, which, naturally, didn't stop me from glancing at the mirror every chance I got to see if something changed. Shockingly, it didn't change hues every half an hour.

This is what it looks like tonight, so I suppose this is what I get for my first henna attempt.

  

And this is what it looked like on Saturday:

You can't really tell the difference, can you?
But I'm not giving up, and you will be informed of my further progress.  Though never again in such a great length.Never, ever again...
At least the puppy seems to like it. She tried to eat it several times already.

Something saved, something blue...

Two more pairs of shoes saved, mostly last week.

The first are my red New Yorker pumps

The photo is far from impressive, because it was taken at midnight, after my lovely designer friend and I went to see Leptirica (She-Butterfly), a Yugoslavian horror film, part of the Fantastic film festival.
The cardigan and capris are Zara, my blouse is custom made by Azdaja, who also took the pic and who was my movie-date, and the bag is from a second hand shop. The label says it's by Fixdesign and I love it to pieces!
Heat and air moisture ruined my hair, but I seriously have no explanation what's going on with my pant leg or face.

Speaking of weird, here's another totally unflattering pic of me for you to enjoy (in for a penny, in for a pound I always say)

This one was taken in our friend's garden, post-very large meal, and I am proudly displaying the skirt I made myself a few years ago. The shoes must be one of my favourite pairs, mostly because of their shocking pink colour.

I am quite fond of this design, with the strange inverted pleats, and I'm thinking of making another one. But before that, the lovely Azdaja  is helping me improve my meager sewing skills. This is what I made so far, under her tutorage:

It's supposed to be a pair high-waist shorts to match the lovely blue bag, since it turns out I don't own a single blue garment in my entire closet. And I can't wait to finally have a pair of trousers that won't leave most of my midriff bare. So wish me luck everybody!

Sugary temptation

I tried so hard, oh I promise I did!

I avoided shoe sites, and I did my very best not to go window-shopping or any other shopping, anything to avoid the temptation. But I guess the Universe had other plans*. I was browsing a small underground mall looking for some nice faux-vintage bangles, and I just happened to pass my local Iron Fist stockist. And they just happened to be having a sale. 30% off. So I went in there, took a pair of Iron Fist shoes I was sure  won't be what I want, took a look in the mirror... and was in love.

But really, who wouldn't be? I mean, look at them!

I walked out of the shop, certain I won't be buying them. I mean, why would I need a new pair of shoes? I'm still doing the Shoeper Shoe Challenge! My skin is already pale, what would I do with a pair of nude-ish shoes?
But you guessed it: I bought them today. And they are called Sugar Hiccup! What a sweet and slightly disturbing name!

So hooray  for a new pair of shoes! I think this brings my total shoe count to.. err.. 36 pairs? 
Oh my!






*Not that I believe in "the Universe" or "Karma" or "Fate" or anything like it. This is just to illustrate a point.

Shoeper Shoe Challenge

Finally I had the time and the opportunity to take a pair of heels out for a walk, and take a picture of them.

The pair saved is Iron Fist's Mombasa platforms:

 

The photo was taken just outside the local shop next to my flat. 

As I was uploading this photo I thought to myself: Didn't I already wear an outfit almost exactly like this one for the challenge? And so I did, while rescuing another pair of Iron Fist shoes- the Thelma booties. 

But I also came across the first post for the challenge, the one where all my shoes are nicely displayed, and remembered some lovely sandals I didn't wear in ages. Shame on me. No wonder I keep thinking I need new shoes- I keep forgetting about the old ones all the time!

Well, time to take more shoes out for a walk. I would really hate to part with them forever :(

Witty knits

A little while ago I was browsing the internet in search of nice vintage pullover or a cardigan. Unfortunately, all the reproductions of original 40's and 50's design were way over my budget. But then, while browsing the blog of the lovely Yesterday Girl I saw this post and thought-oh, I could learn that!
Well, I admit, it wasn't really like that. I saw it, thought it was wonderful, lamented over the idea that I cannot produce anything like it, and went on with my life, albeit somewhat mopier. Then, a month or so later I had a dream about that blog post. Amazing how straight-forward my subconscious is.

Naturally, I thought " what a splendid idea, I shall learn how to knit!", and set off to town, to find yarn, needles, and books on knitting.
My first attempts were miserable to say the least. I couldn't get the casting on right, no matter how and what I tried, and even my clever-as-clever husband took a look at the instructions and said: "What on earth is this?! This makes no sense whatsoever! How do they expect you to learn anything? Where is this piece of string supposed to go?!".
But after some online video tutorials, some in-depth studying and a lot of wasted yarn on experiments, I got off to a (somewhat shaky) start.
And this is what I made so far:

I Went with a very deep, rich, pine green yarn and number 4 needles.
My lovely seamstress friend informed me, however, that I should have used thicker needles,  but by then I was deep into the scarf-to-be and decided not to bother with switching, or undoing all I did.

So tonight, after a somewhat longer knitting session, I took out my tape measure to check just how much of the scarf I managed to knit, and the result is as follows:

 Please excuse the few stray bits of fur, the animals find my knitting fascinating, though for completely different reasons. The cat likes the moving needles and the non-moving me, so she snuggles up in my lap, while the puppy thinks a ball of yarn is the best ever toy in the world.

So wish me luck, I seem to be 1/4 done.

Switchblade Stiletto

I spent the last few days swooning over Switchblade Stiletto.

Particularly over this skirt:

There is just something about that bow design that makes it irresistible.

It also comes in red, for the more daring.

and with a matching cardigan for those somewhat chillier summer nights. :

And if you prefer dresses over skirts, but love the design, their Darling dress is now on sale

for 40$.


Get them while they're hot!

Edit:
I got the black and white skirt after all, I couldn't resist it. It should arrive soon and when it does, I will make sure to show you how it fits.