Nudists

Bloggers,
I come to you all on a serious note,
     As I sit in the school library trying to continue through with my studies at this very moment, I find it hard to do so for the simple fact that some couple are heatedly kissing and entangling thier bodies so frantically around each other I can not help but watch in full disgust for their is no other feeling that can come over my mind at this moment. As they continue thier escapade in the back row of bookshelves I am Casting dirty and annoyed looks thier way, I quickly realize that my disgust has gone completely unnoticed. It looks as if this gentlemen is trying to eat the face off this young lady, he looks quite hungry in fact, I feel the need to offer him a sandwich to eat instead of her mouth, maybe even an oxygen tank for I do not think they have come up for air at all in the past five minutes.  As I try to look back into my homework, the constitutional law is just not as mind catching as this couples scandalous affair. For I looked away for no more than five minutes only to be greeted with a breast dangling out of this young woman's blouse as I looked back up. In a place where a studious environment is provided in order to have quiet time to study and expand the mind is now filled with giant bosoms being fondled by some grotesque form of man.
     With heated emotion swelling through my mind, I quickly noticed that I in fact am not the only one whom is watching this scene in complete shock. With so many jaw dropping facial expression around the room I feel the need to do something. Maybe they will stop? Oh no! I am so wrong about them ever stopping for now they are on the floor doing acrobatic movements which would be quite impressive if they were part of the circus. How ever since we are in fact not at a circus but in a library I find this quite revolting and enormously inappropriate.
     I do not know what happened to this horrid couple for I left quickly left, unaware that the anatomy section of the library was offering live nudes for display tonight.
    Is this really our future generation?
   
 

Has Fashion Gone to the Underworld?

bonjour mon doux gitans rouillées

or, in the freedom language: HELLO MY SWEET RUSTY GYPSIES!

Today, the Rusty Gypsies reunited at last in sweet splendor! After months of longing for our friendship Casey ventured downward on a trip for new laces to use in some of her new creations. Rusty gypsy casey was struck with inspiration and is now making vintage lace BIRD BROOCHES! They're a catch so flap on over and take a gander.

Later in the afternoon, I, Hayley, got a ring on the telly from dear old Casey asking if I would accompany her on her outing. I, of course, accepted and was ready to go at a moment's notice. We made a quick stop at the mall to see what the commoners were wearing these days. It was an outrage! Ghastly! A travesty! It was FEROCIOUS! To think that the formerly upstanding members of our community are now dressing like heathen scoundrels weighs heavily on our hearts. Where are the days when showing less was more? When head to toe lace was the pinnacle of fashionista?? And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, we passed someone whose unmentionables were hanging out of her blouse and miniskirt so short it looked as if it were denim underpants. At a momentary loss for words, Casey and I both looked at each other with hands in air and scornful looks upon our faces. But then, finally, the emotion poured out of Casey. "AGHAST! AGHAST!" she screamed. The common prostitute look-alike turned around and quickly attempted to cover her womanly lumps, but the damage had been done. She was now the talk of the town and the talk of the rusty gypsies. 

Our message to all our gypsies is that THERE IS A FINE LINE BETWEEN SEXY AND SLUTTY. Some need not to cross that fairly thin line, because when they cross it, they have vanished forevermore. 

COMING SOON: book reviews, photos of they gypsies' daily lives, and an excerpt of our new up and coming novel! 

UNTIL NEXT TIME, STAY CLASSY, LACY, AND SPARKLY (of course!)

The Parisian Love Dream

I know it is quite late for blogging, but the reason for this blog is indeed for something very important; I had a dream so real and so familiar, I would feel ashamed for not sharing this reoccurring beauty with all of my dear and faithful friends.           

I awoke on a cool summer night in Paris in the year 1920, and was accompanied by none other than my fellow gypsy Hayley. We were both dressed in lovely chiffon and silk dresses with intricate bead work around the collar both dawning vintage handbags and wore black feather headbands around our curled up do’s. We were laughing and walking down a cobblestone street, passing cafes open late for local Parisians who felt the need to satisfy their taste buds with cappuccinos and croquet monsieur’s. We smelled the sweet local aromas of coffee and the musky smell of Parisian cigarettes. Indulging in the vibrant culture surrounding us I began to feel a familiar feeling as if I have walked these streets once before. Shaking this thought from my head we continued down the alley until we reached an opening in which led to an enormous bridge where we spotted vintage boats sailing thru the black night waters of the grand canal beneath it. On the other side of the divide was the Eiffel Tower, so tall and grand, exquisite as it glittered in the moonlight, casting romantic shadows across the black velvet waters. In a whirlwind of shock and desperation we collapsed to our knees crying sweet tears. Regaining our composure we soon were intrigued by the sweet sounds of a brilliant British man playing a guitar on the bridge wall, it soon became clear that he was making sweet eyes at dear Hayley. I looked over at my lovely friend so indulged in the sweet charismatic sounds from this young man; I thought to myself, could this be love? Without moment’s notice she gave me a wink and made way towards this delicious man by the name of Cameron, I was worried at first, leaving dear Hayley with a stranger but as this thought passed thru my mind a calming feeling came over me that said “ do not fret this has happened before”. So I then made my way across the bridge to gain closeness to the Eiffel Tower. As a looked up, lost in thought I heard someone say “mademoiselle”. I loved the sound of this thick Parisian accent so I turned to meet the deep sultry eyes of the most handsome Parisian man, Jean. We locked eyes in which felt like an eternity, at a loss for words, he finally spoke. In perfectly broken English, he asked me "where have you been my sweet girl". Confused, I explained to him I was from American and he must have mistaken me for someone else. He chuckled and stared deep into my eyes, it felt as if he were reading my very thoughts which screamed “take me away” because he then grabbed my hand and signaled that I follow him. Shocked that I was so easily taken by this gentlemen I followed. He led me into an antique elevator in which people were cramming into. Without moment’s notice it began to rise taking us up the brilliant beamed structure of the tower, after about a minute it jolted to a stop and the operator opened the gates and escorted me onto the landing. Jean, taking me by the hand led me to the edge of the railing in which I wrapped my hands around and looked out upon the night lights of Paris. It all seemed so picturesque, then in the distance we heard a rhythmic tune coming from a little old man in a top hat playing the violin. Jean wrapped his hands around my waist and said to me “laissez-nous danser” (let us dance) as I was dancing with Jean I soon felt the familiar feeling I encountered several times that night. As I looked deeper into his youthful eyes, I soon realized we had met before. Soon enough flashbacks began hitting my mind from every angle. “I have danced with Jean many times before” As I finally came to realize we were in fact not strangers, he kissed me and whispered in his thick Parisian accent he has missed me and has been awaiting my return for some time. After several moments of Jeans confessions of love and close slow dancing, it soon became clear to me that Jean was the man of my dreams. As soon as this concluding thought split my brain, the ground began to shake, my vision blurring, I was spinning out of control, I was unintentionally backing away from Jean, and with outstretched arms I heard him yell “until next time my sweet!”

It felt like someone had hit the rewind button on my dream, I was soon on the elevator going back down to earth watching Jean slowly slip from my vision, I was walking back over the bridge to meet Hayley we  then began walking back down the crowded alley, until I felt a violent jolt that awoke me from my sleep. As I sat up in bed misty eyed, I began to think, is love nothing but a dream? And once you figure out that you are meant to love does it always become a cloud that violently shakes you into reality? With concluding thought I wondered, will Jean be their when I can again dream of love? 

In Which Hayley Loses Her Most Cherished Parasol

I discussed this at length with my sister Rusty Gypsy over one of our twice weekly Skype tea parties, in which we both dress in all of our most recent vintage purchases and model them for each other. Of course, it can't compare with actually being together, but small wonders such as Skype help make the miles seem shorter when we have other, less exciting engagements (school) than day after consecutive day filled with antiquing and spend long periods of time apart.

Yesterday, it looked quite sunny and beautiful out. Upon waking, I quickly roused myself once I caught a glimpse of the beauty on the other side of my window. As we all know, Florida summer is a horrendous affair due to the skyrocketing temperatures and predictable afternoon thunderstorms. However, yesterday I felt a bit of unharnessed joy when I viewed the sky on the other side of my window and then commandeered the usage of a television so I could catch a quick glimpse of the weather channel. The nice, balding weatherman deemed the day clear of storms. Oh, how I jumped with glee! I rushed into my closet and pulled out a few treasures I had saved for a day such as this: a magnificent old corset worn by the Queen of England circa 1721, a fantastically aged pair of boots from 1900, and a beautiful flowing skirt that I picked up from an upscale Goodwill store. A cardinal red French beret I happened upon while shopping the streets of sweet Paris completed my chic look.

I hopped into my Model T Ford and took off to the vintage shops and antique stores. My first stop was a store where the owner imports rusty mugs, and I of course bought some of those to embellish. On my way to my next stop, all of the sudden I looked up and the beautiful sunshiney day had drastically changed to a thunderous, dark, and depressing environment. Before I had time to lift my skirts and scamper to shelter, the heavens above opened up and poured, completely ruining all of my cherished vintage clothing I had so fashionably draped on myself.

Some of you might question me for not having the forethought to bring along an umbrella, to which I will tell you that I did. I carried with me a lace parasol I won in an auction last spring; however, moments after the first raindrops fell a gust of wind came about and savagely ripped my parasol from my hand, carrying it up above to an otherwise magnificent pine tree. At once the beauteous lace was damaged beyond repair. No amount of embellishment would fix that parasol once I had it retrieved.

This is why, my gypsy friends, I cannot wait another minute for fall to arrive! Boots galore! Sweaters and vests and overcoats! My heart is heavy knowing it is only September and therefore we Floridians have another couple months of sticky weather and antiquing trips ruined by the rain. But a Rusty Gypsy never lets anything get her down! In the time before fall arrives, I will continue embellishing rusted mugs and delighting in my newfound passion: sewing!!!!

Until later, gypsies!
Xoxo

Hey Bloggers,
long time I know but things have been crazy for us.... back to school time... being that Hayley is in her junior year of high school and I (Casey) in college we had to part ways for the time being and our wonderful glorious on fire summer slowly dwindled to that of a flame that comes from a single candle in the dark night... although the memories we made this summer will last a lifetime in that of our eternal flame we call our imagination and mind.... before we tear and mess up our wonderful back to school fall term MAC eye shadows that we most likely paid way too much for but "you cannot put a price on BEAUTY and CONFIDENCE" we must discuss the reason for today’s post......
Any who......sometimes we feel as if we do not fit into this thing we call 2011...... For example I (Casey) on my first day of class got out of my truck (although I hopelessly wished that it was a horse drawn carriage draped with budding roses and fresh lilacs) I felt great, my outfit was FABULOUS... which consisted of a charcoal grey vintage 1930's leotard and vintage 1940's high waisted pink lace shorts with some dashing wedges and an intricate hand made Italian scarf ( in which I purchased on the back streets of Paris when we were vacationing there last summer) that I so intricately wrapped around my head and of course topped the look off with superb jewelry that I myself made from hand over the summer adventures that myself and Hayley had so lovingly spent together.....
As I began to look around I soon realized that although I felt like I just jumped straight out of a 1930's vintage postcard.... it soon became clear to me that this thought (although wonderful in theory) was nothing more than a thoughtful wish that would never come true... girls began to stare and I could not help but stare back.... I was shocked to see the way these young women dress.... Girls running around with camo print hats and sweaters and hunting boots.... this is not archery club ladies this is school..... girls with bra straps hanging out ( under garments mean UNDER garments) I was simply appalled to see this.... what more began to startle me was the fact that today’s society has adapted to this ill portrayal of the human presence and the way we adorn ourselves with clothing... when once women were protected and sought to be classy and most precious whom men fought for .... now some have become every so carnal.... what happened to the timeless seam lines of the late MARLYN MONROE and the elegant designs of that of COCOA CHANNEL? So I sat and wondered... Is it really fair that we expect the world to be a walking image of SARAH JESSICA PARKER or KATE MOSS? we suppose not but we do appreciate a finely dressed women with class... so as I began to heartfully discuss this disposition with Hayley she could do nothing but agree with me in everything I said because she too was surrounded by young ladies who just flaunted and gallivant around town ever so dreadfully in the most remote circumstances... what has the world come to? Does the word class mean anything? so through and through our serious conversation about fellow woman...we came up with a proposition.... we decided that no matter what we would look past all the stares and  pass off the sneer comments.... we would still wear our vintage treasure and parade around town with bursting confidence and exuberance and soon enough more and more women will catch on.....  LADIES DO NOT BE AFRAID TO BE CONFIDENT!!!! Until next time!
The Rusty Gypsy's

Can you imagine the times when this was what you did on your night out with the girls? dressing up in dazzling gowns to go watch MARLYN MONROE sing and dance... check out these two videos we stumbled upon on youtube!
http://youtu.be/WQIvhotZSUw

http://youtu.be/PluRW3_FEt0

Photos from our day of touring the fabulous Flagler!

Flagler College

okay ladies are you ready to indulge in todays adventures!?

Yesterday, we took a tour of the beautiful, vintage FLAGLER COLLEGE that was the old Ponce de Leon hotel, built by Henry Flagler whom believed his hotel was perfect! It was constructed in the late 1800's. In the entranceway, there are four beautiful pillars made of ancient Spanish Oak that could use a bit of bedazzling somewhere. The paintings on all of the walls are FABULOUS. The gold lions everywhere are rather ugly and could be melted down into beautiful pins or mugs. The dining hall was FABULOUS although I was dismayed to hear that most of the beautiful chairs were replicas.

As I was standing in the dining hall, I suddenly had the overwhelming experience of thinking of all the people in the victorian era who probably stood in that same place in their extravagant ball gowns, silk gloves and corsets, and the men in the coats and tails wearing divine top hats, canes in hand escorting there ladies through the enchanting halls of the hotel and rocking out amazing vintage pieces that I would just KILL to have.

We then took a tour of where the dormitories were,  old rooms of the hotel each had their own intricate details and qualities and no two were alike. although we were rather perturbed at the size of these rather tiny closets that use to be rooms for the servants, we began to fear the fact that if we attended this amazing college that we would not be able to fit all of our fabulous vintage scrumptious clothing, shoes and accessories this all of a sudden became a determining factor of whether or not we would join!!!! what we do if we had to rid ourselves of just one of our wondrous pins or vintage hats.

We took a stop at a vintage ice cream shop near the beautiful college where a nice, dirty old man filled our cups to the brim with delicious, sugary confections. It being such a hot day, we were delighted with this chance to cool off with such tasty little morsels, which we would describe as current day heaven!! Even though the place was a dump, we were quite pleased with our purchases.

To conclude our day, we happily went home and watched a few hours of Vintage TV before drifting off into sweet slumber.

Until tomorrow, my fellow bloggers!

- The Rusty Gypsies