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Are you staring at my breastplate?: How to feature your best accessory.

By: Bethany Walter

10-02-2012

Traveling all the way from the hills of Tibet, this ethnic breastplate has had quite a history. I do not know much about it yet except that is old, possibly a lot older than myself. Ethnic jewelry has a way of making me feel linked to another place and to the distant women who handmade and wore the jewelry before me. So far I have never seen any Tibetan breastplates like this one. It was crafted by people from the Naga tribes in East India. It is made out of shells, colored glass beads, and leather. Last week I discovered it when I was on a buying trip for my jewelry company Armor Bijoux.

For the last 10 years, I have been collecting ethnic jewelry. In the last few years, I have noticed modern jewelry designs based on antique ethnic jewelry. As much as I like what I see, I prefer jewelry with heritage.

Old Tibetan breastplate made out of shells, leather, and glass beads beads

Vintage Tibetan breastplate: handmade by the Naga tribes of East India, Armor Bijoux

Some women might be too timid or disinterested in wearing vintage ethnic jewelry because they don’t know how to incorporate it with their wardrobe. Ethnic jewelry is bold either in color, size, and intricate design. It is easiest to wear solid colors and make the jewelry the focal point rather than just an accessory. The advantage of bold ethnic jewelry is that you can wear something as simple as jeans and a t-shirt and still look intriguing.

Tibetan Naga breastplate

Gray boots: Report
Gray slacks: Sinequanone, purchased these 11 years ago from Russia
(Notice the pintuck pleats in knees)

Gray slacks from Russia and Bethany's Ass

The backside of these slacks are pretty awesome too.

Tibetan Naga breastplate

Antique Afghanistan silver cuff: Armor Bijoux

If you are interested in getting this breastplate, I’ll soon be adding it and other jewelry finds to Armor Bijoux in the next few weeks.

Photographer: Kelly Lynae Robinson

For more advanced styling of ethnic jewelry, stay tuned for this outfit that Kelly is wearing up above. She is glorious with her layering aesthetics.

HOW IT MELTS DOWN – Photographed by Matthew Wade

By: Bethany Walter

21-12-2012

Bethany, Kelly

Kelly: Why do we fight each other? A thought bubble rises from some bottomless pit of soul to explode at the surface with resentment.

Bethany: As I get older, I am recognizing the fight is sometimes more within myself than with the other person. My insecurities skew how I interpret or relate to the other person’s actions. If I am worried about being likable or interesting, I am sensitive to when the other person doesn’t ask me questions about my life.

K: Nine times out of ten, it’s all me. When some truth becomes newly clear to me, I want to pass it around like a bowl of candy or a tray of Kool-Aid in paper cups. I can have trouble tolerating someone who doesn’t understand my most tender discovery.

B: I wrestle to accept my shortcomings. And I often find a way to resent those very same shortcomings when I see them mirrored in a friend or lover. I feel as though the success or failure of my own personal growth hinges on the self-awareness, or perceived lack thereof, of the people I care about. I’ve been known to drive myself crazy with this line of thinking.

B: When I see someone where I have been before, I feel connected. It tortures me most when I can’t understand where someone is coming from, why they did what they did. Past memories morph. Did we ever like, love, or know each other? The ground dissolves.

K: It is a profound loss. Itching like a lost limb, a phantom consciousness natters on inside my head: What if there were some outside thing? A rock, a shoe, or a shovel? A hammer or a mirror? Could we have found a touchpoint to bring us back to ourselves?

B: The only thing we control is our own perception.

K: We cannot come together without losing something. To get a sacred amulet, you must surrender a sacred amulet.

B: My desire to be close again is frantically noble. I struggle not to compromise to the point that I muffle my self-respect.

K: My life is in a state of flux. As I rapidly unearth a new self, my relationships struggle to adapt. Newer friends like Bethany are giving me the courage to let others go.

B: Over the last year, I lost a best friend of nearly ten years. Very rarely did we ever talk about our hurt feelings. Two of the the last times we did is when I gave up. Her interpretations of my actions were so far off from any motives I would ever have. I didn’t know what to do. I wouldn’t be friends with me if I was who she thought I was. I grew distant. Things festered. My own understanding of her actions were probably wrong too. In the end, it was our insecurities that eroded our relationship.

K: Who knows why it ends? Who knows what steers our actions? Maybe I too am addicted to Samsara. For better or for worse. Till death do us part.

Peace. Peace. Peace.

SECOND HAND AND THRIFT STORE FASHION

Bethany:

Yellow XL nightclub dress; Vintage Tibetan Naga ethnic headhunter necklace from Armor Bijoux; 70s Ship N’ Shore vintage polyester blouse; 70s Ship N’ Shore vintage maxi skirt; Mexican silver and lapis necklace; Chinese Ver Marai Cheongsam lace dress; vintage Russian fur hat; vintage palazzo pants; Bamboo yellow vinyl platforms

THE BEATITUDES for the burnt out and blighted

By: Jessica Holmes

04-10-2012

Jessica

Approximately one year ago, I FU‘d for the first time. Back then, I had such grand ideas about what the year ahead would bring. That I would be able to do anything, and everything, at once. That I would not trip up, and fall. Now that I am in the future also (nod to Mike Birbiglia) all I can do is laugh, at myself. In a dark and rueful sort of way.

This year was brutal, of a scorched earth variety (pack). In my life and in the lives of those around me: apocalypse in all arenas. All extant weak spots in relationships, partnerships, habits became blights that burned out the sky or broke the back of the camel, so to speak. Until nothing remains but heavy change, and a little hope for a brighter future built on firmer stuff (because really f*ck this year).

In latin, “beatus” means happy or fortunate or blissful. In the Bible, as a cruel twist of fate/root word, the Beatitudes are written for anyone but. They are written for the me, for the we. Though not religious, I now identify with the passages wrought so beautifully in iron script on the door to the Cathedral of the Rockies. Eternal maxims for rough times.

Blessed are the poor in spirit.

Blessed are the meek.

Blessed are the pure.

Blessed are the persecuted.

Blessed are they which hunger.

Blessed are they that mourn.

Blessed are the merciful.

Blessed are the peacemakers.

Photos by the unbelievably spectacularly beautiful Bethany Walter.

Outfit:

Banana Republic lace camisole (thrift store $2). Anne Klein II silk tie-waist skirt (thrift store, $3). Hugo Buscati Collection red silk jacket (thrift store, $3-never worn, with original tags). Tibetan turquoise, coral and beaded breastplate ($140, Armor Bijoux, the ethnic and vintage jewelry collection by Bethany Walter). Frye Boots dorado short ($200, after $200 parental figures gift).

Now, may we embark on the journey of restoreth-ing our souls.

For more cheap fashion and what-nots by Jessica, check out her other blog love, Cheep.