I know I am but summer to your heart, and not the full four seasons of the year

It might be not surprise if I tell that we´ve been invaded by a box flood. 

It´s more like an ocean, actually.

 There are so many boxes at home right now that there´s hardly any space for us, and we (poor souls!) have to swim among the cardboard waves to do anything.

Ok, maybe I am exagerating a tiny bit (me, really?), but The Gentle One and I are feeling a little bored about all this packing up madness. Indeed, a couple of days ago we started needing  to do something else than placing our personal belongings into boxes, so cheerfully decided to go out for a coffee or at least some fresh air.

That´s the good thing about Spain: you always find the opportunity of having both things at the same time, even on September. 

For a few more days, we won´t feel the coldness of Autumn coming. Instead, we can still wearing summer clothes while we have cool drinks on a sunny terrace. And that´s exactly what we did, we flew to our favourite private garden, a place where you can spend the evening surronded by bunches of precious flowers.

Sunglasses : Primark  / Dress and belt: New Saks /  Tights : C&A /   

Shoes : H&M/
  Bag : DIY (mum´s work) /  Necklace: DIY (me) / Tiara:Claire´s

 We were just enjoying the day and taking the chance to make a smallie photoshoot when I heard the most funny comment coming from a lady: 'Oh look, she is all dressed up. She must come from a wedding!'.

She was staring (and pointing an inculpatory finger) at me as she passed through the street with a friend.

Believe me or not, it took me a couple of seconds to understand I was the focus of such a comment.

Well, I think this person was not being intentionally negative.
She couldn´t just assume that my clothes were a normal/daily outfit to me. These days anything other than jeans is considered "overdressy". And if someone judges you are overdressing, it automatically means you are a frivolous person, who is looking for extra attention and can´t be interested about serious issues. After all, if someone makes such an effort to dress up, this person must have no responsabilities at all, right?

Over the years, I have dealt with tons of comments like that (and not to mention about the gothic-look).

Not a long time ago I received a similar comment from a colleague: 'Don´t you feel akward on your dress with this rainy weather?' No, I didn´t. Indeed, I think stocking tends to get dry easier than jeans.

The way in which we judge other people´s appearance is mad, making all kind of weird assumptions.
 Are you a goth? You must be promiscuous!
Do you pay "too much" attention to your look? You must be superficial!

I consider myself a well-balanced and professional person. I have lots of other interests apart from fashion, and (oh, surprise, surprise!) dressing up is not an effort to me. In fact, is not dressing up at all. It´s just my way of dressing. I don´t know why, but I find more comfortable wearing dresses and skirts than trousers.

I don´t like being judgemental, but maybe those comments come from people who feel a bit threatened, only because they mistakenly think you did some effort to look nice and they didn´t.

For instance, in one occasion I even heard a girl excusing herself for wearing non-gothic clothes (I was wearing a black silky dress that day. We had met the previous weekend on a gothic-friendly party, where she would wear a very radical outfit). Of course, I didn´t care about her clothing. I don´t pay too much attention to other people´s look, but this girl kind of felt bad about her appearance.
 Obviously, that was her fault, not mine, but it was a little sad she thought I was judging her...

I´d like people to stop asking if I have a job interview, a Halloween party, or a fancy cocktail just because of my outfit. Clothes represent an artistic and creative way to externalize my personality, but it´s not the only one.

Wouldn´t be everything better if we could forget about first impressions?

Wouldn´t be everything better if we could just be ourselves?

There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it

Well, it looks like the boxaholic period has finally begun.

Just before last weekend we got some of these awful cardboard boxes and started packing to face our future. I´d like to say that we are making a wonderful job but actually, the ONLY things we´ve packed so far are The Gentle One´s books. Just his books, not mine. Didn´t even try.

'Why?', I can hear you intelligently asking.

And the reason is, to be completely honest, that I don´t want to do so.

Please, do not get me wrong.
I am dying to move to Romania and start this atonishing adventure, but if only we could wake up one fine morning in our new apartment without all the Last-time drama...

The idea of packing it´s truly hard to me because, as soon as I place the first book, dvd, or framed picture in a box, I´ll be saying goodbye home and I am not ready, not quite yet anyway.

I might get started to freak out a bit here. A little bit. OK, maybe a huge bit.

We are supposed to be moving in less than a month. A MONTH, do you understand? And by then I won´t be sitting in front of this desktop computer anymore, I won´t bake cupcakes on my old oven, I won´t read books by the window (here we go with all the Last-time drama again...). Indeed, in less than a month I´ll have left this house forever.

Yes, I know this house is old (older than Matusalem, actually), and we (well, that´s The Gentle One) spend a lot of our spare time fixing up ruined supplies, but the thing is that we´ve been living here for the last seven years and a half. This house was our first house, the place where we first moved when we started our relationship. 

This shabby house is our home. And now we must leave. OMG.

Ok, I´ll keep breathing, I promise.

[Uses the asthma medicine again]

So, I decided to start documenting the little things that make me happy all around the apartment.
Like my summer reading refuge by the window, the light in my boudoir, or the glowing purple colour we painted the walls many years ago. Because someday I won´t probably remeber the place clearly, and then I´ll have my pictures at least.

Aurum Masquerade

 Happy Sunday, everyone!

I´ve been pretty busy lately as a consequence of  job overload.

Pre-Easter evaluation is a nightmare for teachers, I can tell you: suddenly you have a large pile of exams to correct, plus half a hundred reports to write. Besides (and as an English teacher), you are charged with the responsability of deciding who is going to take the Cambridge exams and who is not.

Result? No time for reading, sleeping or eating properly.

But now I am done with it and I have one entire holiday week (hurray!) so finally I can tell you about the great masquerade ball which was celebrated last 9th of March.

♥ The Gentle One and I plus my friends Ana and Sade at the photocall, based in one of the Venetian gardens of the palace.

Aurum Masquerade was born as an annual event (this year was its first edition) and designed to gather recreationist, steampunk, lolita and fantasy comunities in a dream location. For this purpose, the amazing Hostal de los Reyes Católicos, a beautiful 15 th century palace in the heart of the city, was chosen. The place is a mixture between Renaissance and Baroque arquitecture, full of charming ballrooms and gardens that inmediately transport you to a glorious past.

 ♥ Some of my favourite assistants (amazing ensembles, don´t you think so?)

 ♥ The amazing organization team. I love her Marie Antoinette style!

We were received by a royal crier, who announced our names before entering to the great ballroom.

After that, The Gentle One  and me were blessed with the honour of opening the ball as dance teachers!

Well, we got really nervous but I have to say that it was an amazing experience to see all the guests following the minuet steps together. 

♥ Funny ball-opening!

After a lovely music selection formed by precious waltzes, minuets and polkas, we could taste the supper.
Dessert was yummy, with lots of cakes and fruit brochettes.
 We could also participate in a draw!
Many amazing prizes were raffled, such as brand lolita gowns, steampunk appliances and historic jewelry.
I was not lucky this time, but my friend Ana got a beautiful necklace.

♥ The girls of the local lolita comunity together.

♥ This moment looks like stolen from Sofía Coppola´s Marie Antoinette.

♥ I truly love her hairdo!

♥ My friends and I (and too much red wine at that time).

I can say that we had the most wonderful of the nights.

The general feeling was the one of being inside the pages of Cinderella and I can´t really stop thinking about next year´s edition.
 

So if you truly want to experience a fairy tale, come to the north of Spain next year!

Tales from a Bookworm

 

This is how a wormbook looks on a Friday evening.

The last past weeks have been a madness.
Stuck on a metaphorical pillory of duties those including seminars, job, essays, private classes and a brand new little bussiness of my own, it has been kind of hard to find spare time for little pleasures. Sadly, this means no time for blogging at all. Modern times demand an unrealistic efficiency from everyone.

However, sometimes one have to stop and breath.
In my case, there is a huge breed of things I use to indulge myself. No eccentricities neccesarily but just small treats. From a luxury capuccino with floating marshmallows to a single walk under the autumn trees, everything may help to relax. One of my favourite things in the whole world consists on spending evenings in a library just for pleasure. On Friday night I had to go to the public library to pick one of the novels I previously booked for my American literature classes. So I decided to transform commitment into a chance to enjoy.

It´s kind of fascinating the way in which these places have changed in the last ten years.
As a curious child and a remarkably antisocial teen, I got used to see the same kind of people consulting books day by day. They were mainly retired people, undergraduates or just solitary kids like me. Nevertheless, the net grew up and computers were introduced even in the most conservative book stores. As a consequence, you can find hordes of teens checking their emails every Friday night nowadays. Little coffee shops have been even installed, offering a smart variety of sandwiches, tea and other refreshments to have while you´re reading your favourite novel. Funny thing this new and modern world.

Anyway, I exploited the opportunity and met my fiancé there.
Being another paper-eater, we simply toured the three level floor building snooping the shelves. What a delight! I like to learn the new material everytime and - oh, man!- in this occasion the horror department was full of shinning trasures. Somebody asked for the beautiful ( and expensive) gothic editions from the Spanish publishing house of Valdemar. And there they were! The complete works of H.P. Lovecraft on that very desirable edition. A chip on my shoulder. Actually, I do not have spare time to read random books now. I have a stressing reading schedule because of my classes at university, so I won´t be able to make it until Christmas.
I simply was a modelic school girl and picked my copy of The House of the Seven Gables by N. Hawthorne. Yes, Hawthorne is a genious and I know it but sometimes you are not happy reading the works that other people chose for you.

At the end of the day, The Gentle One and I got home carrying our paper provisions. And yes, I must confess he was happier than me about that.

 

Fuzzy and lovely reader looking for new treasures

She Spoke and Winter Left

My friend Elisa and I on a semi-melted mood.

As my readers know, I mentioned the early coming of fall a couple of times.
It could be thought that my words played as a hocus-pocus, as long as the season magically dissapeared. Literally. One day we woke up and Father Autumn had just vanished! Its grey beard made of wind and mist was replaced by the burning sun and its lovely golden leaves cloack is not here anymore.
Usually, I smile when people say climatic change is just politic maneuvre. I had never have so strong impression about this truth. October is here but cold is not coming! Many of you can think this is a regular thing in such a warm place like Spain but not in the north. Galicia isn´t a well-known region out form our boundaries, so try to imagine a fairy-tale kingdom full of green woods and gardens, the most similar landscapes across Europe can just be found in Ireland. Evidently, the situation is uncanny.
On a personal level, one may consider the obvious consequences of unusual weather for an academic gothic-victorian lady: on first place, attending classes is a nightmare in the stuffy rooms inside the faculty building. I heave a sigh every morning while choosing an outfit and look with dreamy eyes at the vast variety of wooden shawls, soft knit jumpers and dresses. Of course, they´re not an option these days, unless you wish passing out.

My dear friend Iago getting annoyed by weather and pics.
But he stills so cute!

I am concious that many people would be glad about it, however the little spooky girl inside me is praying for her favourite season: Halloween. And honestly, I cannot conceive it without a former period of dead leaves and misty grounds for getting me ready. There are so many details to inspire me!

• A good cup of cinnamon tea or hot mint chocolate.
• Silky cashemere shawls.
• Tartan blankets.
• Sacher cake.
• Victorian tea rooms.
• Reading by the fireplace.
• Flaper hats.
• Synthetic furs.
• Twilight walks across haunted woods.

My beloved sister (who, by the way, can be read here) want me to upload some pics inspired by the romantic beauty of autumn, but I am just in the position of posting these summery impressions at the moment (sorry, darling). However, inspiration is in the air and I´ll be making my best as soon as cold comes back. One of the new projects in my mind include a wintery Victorian picnic. Just imagine a bunch of ladies and gentlemen sharing hot drinks served from silvery teapots in a magnificent park, surrounded by golden trees... I just need the proper background.

So, please, please, send the season back to me!

Habits make the man an old monk

The pleasure of learning.

Going back to rutine can consitute an unexpected pleasure.
A relatively long period far from daily life is very similar to discover an old pair of shoes in the closet which we forgot but still fitting perfect. I spent September at my parent´s, I did not suspect it when I moved away but discovered a wide range of new feelings: one can learn to value little things, even those that you normally don´t think about.
I missed my apartment, my books and films, my teapots and cups, my collection of shoes, my cds and even my sheets. But materialism is not everything. I specially felt melancholy when I thought about shared dinners and breakfasts with The Gentle One (my soulmate), naps on my little and unconfortable sofa accompanied by my two charming kitties and the never ending wine parties with friends on the living.

Autumn´s light is already here.

Fortunately, this forced holiday period is done and I went back, not only home but also to daily life. Seminars at university started on Monday (meaning to meet with my friends after a complete year of social isolation) and I returned to job this evening. The huge change of habits cannot be ignored as long as I went from being completly idle to have almost too much to do. However, being useful is always very nice.

Am I the only one with an antithetical post-holiday syndrome?