Archive for July, 2009

Decadent accouterments for pleasure enthusiasts who feel that historical accuracy is best left to PBS costume dramas and hardcore reenactors. Wearing our vices on our sleeve, we shall issue no apologies for partaking in the many delights of mixing Victoriana with fetishwear. A highly evolved sense of aesthetics, an overtly self absorbed mindset and hint of ill repute are our calling card. We are the fetish aristocracy, if it’s a sin, count us in.

The Duchess

Surrounded by fineries and enveloped in splendor the duchess politely smiles as she takes her afternoon tea.  All pleasantries and proper demeanor she savors the taste of Early Grey, drank pinky up, amongst her fellow well bred ladies of polite society. In her mind’s eye she pictures the looks of horror on their collective prudish faces had they discovered that she was indeed wearing vinyl knickers under her bustled mourning skirt .Such thoughts fill her heart with much glee.

click to view full size

Channel her libertine style in:

Blacklist Core Long Sleeved Ruffle Dress Shirt in the black colorway. The sleek timeless cut makes it the cornerstone of any elegant ensemble. Pair with a black underbust corset or waist cincher to create a flattering silhouette. I opted for a medically inspired cameo corset, but the #83-164 Waist Cincher from Lippy’s Blacklist collection would look simply exquisite paired with the Long Sleeved Ruffle Dress Shirt as well.

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Indulge in the drama and dark romance of Vice’s Duchess de Sade II Victorian Mourning Skirt in the Blood colorway.  Guaranteed to garner many a jealous stare at the next gala. For added oomph layer a crinoline or a hoop skirt under this show stopping garment.*

*I highly recommend doing so due to the length of the skirt. If your tallest boots happen to be stompy 8” platforms that otherwise clash horribly with your outfit, a floor length petticoat will help to camouflage them nicely.

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If Sofia Coppola’s Marie Antoinette movie can substitute The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees and New Order for the usual classical and baroque compositions on its soundtrack , then you don’t need to worry about your headwear being an exact replica of a hat you spotted in a televised adaptation of a Charles Dickens novel. I’m not here to teach you history, I’m here to present you with the anatomy of a fabulous get up :)  I happen to think that black hats embellished with feathers, ribbons and fabric roses are fabulous indeed.

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Protect the skin you’re in from the sun’s harmful ultraviolet rays WHILE staying chic by toting a parasol around on all your daylight adventures about town. My preference lies in a black gothic Lolita inspired piece adorned with mini silver crosses, black lace and filigree medallions.

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To score some easy loosely wound romantic curls:

- Apply a small amount of volumizing mousse to your hair.

- Separate hair into 1”-2” sections.

-Starting at 2”-3” away from the scalp begin winding your hair around the barrel of a curling iron.

-Hold curl for 10 to 15 seconds.

-Release curling iron.

-Repeat until you have curled the rest of your hair.

-Spray with enough hair spray to make your hair an official fire hazard

-Resist touching!

The Dandyette

The dandyette wears what she pleases unrestrained by gender roles, societal norms or the opinion of envious naysayers who secretly wish they were her. Quoting Wilde and Bauldelaire in between sips of absinthe, she transforms the criticism of those with a most unfortunate fashion sense into pure poetry.  Arrogance suits her like a well tailored coat. To cross her is to commit social suicide.

Revel in the flavor of dandy candy in:

Menswear inspired elegance with a distinct feminine feel is the dandyette’s trademark look. Flirt with androgyny without the fear of looking like your Fourth Grade PE teacher by layering a Black Tales White Lies Tattle Tale Victorian Crop Jacket in the ivory/black colorway over the Dusk ‘Till Dawn Stretch Poplin Tuxedo Ruffle Top also in the ivory/black colorway. Both by Blacklist. Avoid any potential “matador” or “circus ringmaster” references by coupling with a plain black waist cincher of your choice. Yet again the #83-164 Waist Cincher from Blacklist would be most suiting.

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If the boobs weren’t a dead giveaway, combining the above mentioned top and jacket with statement making lace trimmed black PVC bloomers won’t let the boys forget that you’re still a girl under all their clothes. Not even for a second.

(Bloomers made with DIY love by my roommate Melanie)

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White socks like these would make the Dandy Highwayman himself, Adam Ant, very very proud. Simple black PVC platforms bring the whole ensemble home.

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Black top hats make everything fine and dandy.

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A sleek understated ponytail won’t upstage your fanciful attire.

The Magic is in the Makeup

General Prep Work

You will need:

Moisturizer ,Primer , Concealer, Liquid Foundation, Foundation Brush, Translucent Powder, Powder brush

Wash your face with a cleanser formulated especially for your skin type. Rinse thoroughly and pat dry with a soft cloth. Prep your skin with moisturizer before applying concealer in order to ensure a smoother, flake free application.  Before proceeding any further allow your skin to properly absorb the moisturizer. This should take about 10 minutes. Since foundation worn alone often has a nasty habit of settling in the fine lines around your mouth, near your eyes and on your forehead, I highly recommend using a primer after you’ve moisturized your face. Utilizing a small amount of primer helps to fill in unflattering expression lines, pores and scars, thus allowing foundation to actually do its job! Nix blemishes and skin discoloration by gently patting concealer over the trouble area. Follow by blending with your ring finger.

Apply a liquid foundation that best matches your skin tone to your face and neck with a foundation brush (A full dome shaped brush works beautifully). Start by applying small dots in the center of your face and then moving outward]. Set everything in place by finishing off with a thin coat of translucent powder.  Use a full, round shaped powder brush for optimal results.

Prep your lids with eyeshadow primer, whose job is to neutralize the colour of your lids which in turn makes for brighter more vibrant shadow. It also prevents said shadow from creasing.

The Duchess

Smoky eyes for a blue blood girl

Eyes:

You will need:

Eyeshadow primer, Black eyeliner, Matte black eyeshadow,  Pressed brown eyeshadow,  Pressed steel gray eyeshadow, Pressed pearly white eyeshadow, Eyeshadow brush with a round/tapered edge, Blending brush, Eyelash curler, Black mascara

Using a brush with a round/tapered edge swipe some matte black eyeshadow starting at the inner corner of your eye all the way to your outer corner. This should form a semi thick solid black line. Try to keep the line as close to your lashes as possible. It need not be super precise. We shall blend our asses off later. See Figure 1.

Figure 1

Starting directly above the line of black eye shadow that you’ve just applied, add some pressed brown shadow. Fill in the entire surface of the lid with the brown shade right up to your crease. Blend some steel gray eyeshadow to the outer crease of your eye and bring it down to on the outer corner of your eyelid. The steel gray shadow you just added should be in the shape of the letter “V”. If you shave and draw your brows on you can extend the shadow past your crease and onto the lower part of your browbone, since you obviously have more room to work with. Clean that blending brush and after you’ve done so, highlight your browbone with a healthy dose of pearly white eyeshadow.

Blend, blend, blend and blend some more!

Grab your trusty black kohl and line your bottom lid starting from the outer corner of your eye, slowly making your way toward the inner corner. Most of the color should be concentrated in the outer corner. Personally, I prefer to put on eyeliner after eyeshadow and before mascara. Curl your eyelashes with an eyelash curler and top off with 2 coats of black mascara.

Face:

You will need:

Blush brush, Peachy pink blush, Bronzer

Let’s make those cheekbones pop! Swipe some pressed bronzer  onto your blush brush. Starting mid-cheek, going towards your ear apply the bronzer into the hollows of your cheeks using short, up-and-down vertical strokes. Darker shades will give the illusion of the hollows of your cheeks receding. Now using the same technique add a peachy pink blush to the apples of your cheeks, which will cause them to protrude. Use translucent powder to blend between the two colors in order to avoid obvious lines.

Lips:

You will need:

Flesh toned lip liner, Shimmering light pink lip plumping gloss

Filling in your entire lip area prevents your lip color from fading and feathering throughout the course of your drunken debauchery filled nights. Use a flesh toned lip liner to fill in your lips starting at the center of your natural lip line and moving toward the outer corners. Shimmering light pink lips balance out the heaviness of the eyes. Beginning in the center of your upper lip, gently press the gloss wand into the flesh of your lip and then proceed to roll it over the entire top lip area, working toward the edges. See Figure 2.

Figure 2

Repeat the process on your bottom lip. To ensure that your gloss sticks to your mouth and not your teeth put your index finger in your mouth, then proceed to slide it out slowly with your mouth still closed. This will remove any excess lip color.

The Dandyette

Play up your eyes with “gender neutrals”.

Eyes:

You will need:

Espresso eyeshadow , Bronze eyeshadow, Frosty white (brow bone highlight)
Black eyeliner kohl (above lashes), Eyelash curler, Black mascara (lash), Eyeshadow brush with a round/tapered edge, Blending brush,

With the help of a black kohl eyeliner, line your entire upper lid stopping right at the outer corner. Stay as close to the lashline as you can and for the love of all things holy do not wing out said liner. You might be tempted to, but JUST DON’T DO IT! See Figure 3.

Figure 3

Fill in the entire surface of the lid with an espresso eyeshadow shade right up to your crease using an eyeshadow brush with a round/tapered edge.  Follow up with just a hint of bronze eyeshadow added to the outer crease of your eye with aid of a blending brush.  Clean your trusty blending brush. Add a small amount of a frosty white eyeshadow to your browbone.. Curl your eyelashes with an eyelash curler and top off with 2 coats of black mascara. See Figure 4.

Figure 4

Lips:

You will need:

Nude lip gloss

Too cool for lipliner, our heroine chooses a nude lip. See Figure 5

Figure 5

And so the Duchess and the Dandyette spent their days strolling about the gardens as if they owned place.

Well, they sort of did.

After the arsenic lace tea party incident anyway…

You see the Duke did not think to make her sign a prenup.

Credits:

Photography:

Aaron Kondziela

http://aaronkondziela.com

Models:

The Duchess –Vanity Kills

http://www.modelmayhem.com/vanitykills

The Dandyette-Meagan Kyla

http://www.modelmayhem.com/1004843

Location:

Buffalo and Erie County Botanical Gardens

http://www.buffalogardens.com

And to all a good night!

<3

Vanity Kills

My boyfriend keeps joking around about us having a threesome with another woman, that it would be totally hot. I usually ignore him, but he’s talking about it a lot and even asked if I would seriously do it. He says he loves me and this will just spice things up, but I’m confused. Does this mean he’s over me? ~ Anaïs

Girl, my first question, Is this something you want to do? I mean, you said you’ve been ignoring him until now, so that just makes me think a threesome is not something you’re really all that into. Why the hell would you even consider a three-way after ignoring it for several months? You have to have some desire to have a threesome before blindly doing it. Just to please your boyfriend? Give me a fucking break! Would he be as easy if you wanted to bring another man home to “spice things up”?

You are a sexual being too with a mind of your own, right? So use it!

You should only get involved in a ménage a trios (that’s French for three-some) if you want to, not because you want to please him. That would be a mess. He’d get what he wants and you’d get lost somewhere in-between the sheets. Ewwww. Have some self-respect already.

Now, if it’s a two-way street? I mean, you guys can trade. Say, for example, if a threesome isn’t really your thing but you might be willing to do it if he is willing to do something sexy and HOT for you in return. Don’t give up the goods without making sure there is something in it for you in return. The days of concubines ended a long-ass time ago.

And, just for the record, threesomes can be scary, messy and complicated. Just by pure virtue of the physics, someone will be the “odd man out” and could wind up feeling left out or hurt. How will you feel if that’s you? Some people can handle threesomes. Hell, for some couples, it actually improves their relationship. But, if that’s not you, you need to level with yourself and right fucking now.

Jealousy and insecurity are relationship and passion killers and there is no room for that crap in bed. To have a threesome you gotta put that jealous, insecure, “I don’t know if he loves me,” bullshit aside. Can you do that? If you are in a trusting and stable relationship, you need to deal with jealousy openly before inviting more in. The thing is, with all that baggage, a threesome won’t be enjoyable for anyone, anyway, and that shit will stick around. These are pretty serious, heavy and deadly emotions to be hanging around in the air. Deadly.

The point is, you need to stand up to yourself and to your boyfriend. If you are going to even consider going there at all, you have to: 1. Know what you want and 2. Ask him what he wants.

What is his idea of a threesome? Does he mean penetration, oral sex, anal sex? Get the details out of him. Girl, you need to know this shit. Don’t let him push you around all willy-nilly. Let him know what you are and aren’t ok with. Maybe you don’t want him to kiss her. Maybe you don’t want him to fuck her doggy style but you are willing to watch a little from-the-behind action while he’s spooning her, and maybe you are interested in tasting her fruits but you just haven’t come to terms with your freaky side yet, which is something else you might need to address and own. Nobody knows this but you. You have to know what you want, and then own it. You have to know what you can and cannot handle and these limits (or lack there-of) really do need to be discussed, and defined, so you can both be satiated.

If your boyfriend says something like, “All these fucking rules will spoil the moment”, tell him to grow up and grow a real set of nuts. He needs to recognize that your relationship needs to be stable and on solid ground first for a threesome and your relationship to work. You two must be on the same page. The rest can and will happen spontaneously, and “in the moment.” The bottom line is that you want to please him and get your needs met too. What “man” wouldn’t want that? (Throw the word “man” in there to really drive the nail in…. men cannot handle women thinking they are somehow less than full grown…. To them size is everything..)

If he still does not want to define parameters with you, seems unwilling to meet you half way and/or thinks you are being overly sensitive/insecure/jealous/whatever? Then, honestly, he needs to fuck off and go have a three-some with his hand and some lotion, since his motives for having a threesome may not be as genuine as you’d like to think…. I have news for you sister, he might actually be one of those sleaze-balls looking to have his cake and eat it too…. Just tell him “Sorry, dude,” the threesome is not happening and neither are you!

In Awake, we meet Kat, a woman struggling with her feelings of isolation, and Max, her mysterious suitor. They share the same longing, a similar loneliness, and are drawn together by the hope of someone who can ease the pain they’ve felt, a love to fill the void in their souls. With absolute abandon, they explore their pain and desire in one fateful day that will change their lives forever.

From their first encounter in the picturesque St. Louis #1 cemetery of New Orleans, Kat and Max are brought together by fate. Or is it?

*          *          *          *          *          *          *           *          *          *          *

Three simple letters rose from the fog, M – A – X.

Max! That’s it!

She almost sighed with relief at the reward of her mental efforts. That is, if she felt she could sigh. Her chest was marble, still immobile, unyielding to her will. But, at least she had her mind … that was something.

Large swaths of memory were beginning to clear now, events and sensations flowing back in a rush of discovery. She had met Max while she was visiting St Louis. Kat focused on assembling the puzzle, piecing fleeting bits of memory together to recreate the past day.

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

*     *     *     *     *     *     *

“You gave me quite a start!” Kat scolded through a tentative smile. The stranger’s unexpected presence had unnerved her, but she didn’t want to be too harsh. He was quite intriguing, no need to risk putting him off.

He was apparently unphased, cocking his head slightly to the right while peering at her curiously, studying her. Something about him, about his manner, Kat found reassuring, comforting in some absurd way. His voice, when he finally spoke, was barely audible, yet she found herself startled by its intrusion into the calm silence.

“Who do you cry for?” he asked, looking deeply into her eyes. Never had she seen eyes quite that color, very light grey, almost silver. They were mere inches from her own and she could see her reflection within them, clear as mirrors. Reaching within her, his eyes were searching her, examining her, but she didn’t care. She wanted them to see her, see everything. It was as if they were touching her, wrapping their gaze around her, protecting her. Warm, she was so very warm in their embrace.

She had no answer she could think of. Jumbles of words gathered just behind her tongue, building a dam of all the things she wanted to tell him. Kat mutely opened her mouth but could not speak. The stranger’s eyes bore more deeply into hers, exploring her mind, measuring her reactions.

“There is a story about this tomb,” he began, softly. “There was a girl, ready to marry one of my family, but he was a bit of a rogue, they say. Her family refused the match … took her away … she lost hope. Her lover discovered the hiding place and restored her, but they were found out. A tragic story … ” His features were wrought with sadness. “I come here sometimes, when I feel lonely.”

Kat found her voice, though it escaped as little more than a tight gasp. “That’s terrible and, somehow, lovely,” she replied. “You asked me who I was crying for … ”

He held up his hand, stopping her. “I’m sorry, I had no right,” he apologized. “I’m not very good around people, you see. Not used to … ”

This time, Kat stopped him. She should have had reservations but, looking for them, found none. Opening herself to him felt so very natural, so right. “I want to tell you,” she whispered. His face brightened, tense jaw loosened with relief. “When I feel too much sadness to bear,” she began, “I come here … So many lost souls with no one, no one to mourn them, no one to cry for them.” She let the words tumble out, blurting out her story before she could stop herself. “It’s been so hard to bear, feeling alone. I come here almost every day, now. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat before that tomb, no idea who or what I was crying for.” A fresh tear moistened her eye, followed by another pushing the first down her cheek. She reached for a handkerchief, only to find one already offered to her. “Thank you,” she sniffed, dabbing softly at her salty eyes.

“I guess I never quite realized,” she sighed, “The person I’ve been crying for is me.” She looked downward, unable to face his searching eyes, her tears mingling with the dust at her feet. Falling into habit, Kat let doubt sneak into her thoughts, silent curses tearing at her. How could she have let all that out, to a total stranger? Worse yet, a stranger who might have been interested in her before she decided to confirm that she was, indeed, damaged goods. What man wanted to waste their time on an emotional wreck like her?  Her tears welled up again, each one a bitter recrimination of her lack of control.

A smooth hand brushed her cheek, cupped her chin. “Please,” a soft voice whispered, “look at me.” The hand caressed her, delicately stroking her hair before gently tilting her face toward his. “Let me see you.” A murmur, musical in its lilting sweetness, “So beautiful, yet so guarded. Why do you hide yourself?” She had no answer, but it was of little consequence, as it occurred to her she had momentarily forgotten how to speak. A pained sigh was all she could offer in response, to which he softly replied, “Shhh. Forgive me, I … ”

At first, it was a subtle suggestion of a kiss, lips barely brushing hers. She tilted her face toward his and welcomed him, hungry for contact. His fingers worked up the back of her neck, cradling her, pulling her  closer, lips pressing hers more urgently. Desire crested and flowed through her in waves of need, years of longing released in a single beat of her heart. Thoughts, instincts rather than words, flooded her in a rush of raw emotion. Was her pain, her sorrow, melting away, being pulled from her? She had the queerest notion he was taking her pain into himself, relieving her of her burden and leaving joy, acceptance, where it had been. Whatever it was, whatever magic she felt in his kiss, Kat never wanted it to end.

“You damn kids!” an angry voice called out. Jones, the caretaker, kept his distance, happy to make his point without having to get too close and be on his way. Those death-lovers, the ones who loomed like ghosts in his cemetery day after day, disturbed him, frightened him in ways he didn’t want to think about. “It’s closing, so, get yer jollies someplace else!” The two glanced furtively at each other, suddenly shy, and fell into a riot of giggling. Holding hands, they gathered themselves up and scurried toward the gate and out to the city beyond.

Breath in rapid gasps, she looked over at him. His cheeks, unlike her flushed face, were still flawless ivory. “Aren’t you embarrassed?” she asked, incredulous.

“Should I be?” he replied, eyebrow raised with rakish amusement.

Kat’s cheeks burned hotter, realizing the depth of her folly. “I should at least know your name,” she stammered.

“Max, very pleased to make your acquaintance,” he bowed slightly.

“I’m Kat,” she said, extending her hand in handshake mode out of habit. Max reached out, clasped it delicately, turned it to hold tenderly to his lips. It was an affectation, a bit over the top, but Kat thrilled at the gesture anyway. There was something so charming about his manner, reminding her of the boys at Jr. High dances, wanting so much to be suave but unable to shake off their youthful awkwardness.

“Well, Kat,” Max grinned sheepishly, “Considering the circumstances, maybe you would consent to allow me to treat you to a late lunch? Perhaps get more acquainted?” His boots shuffled nervously on the sidewalk.

How could she say no? She knew she should, weakly sputtering out a lame excuse, “I … I’m supposed to … to meet up with some friends …”

His eyes, once again, reached into hers, spying the desire beneath the surface coyness. “Would you rather be with me?” he asked, his musical voice insinuating its way through the cracks in her crumbling resistance.

The flame in her cheeks spread to her ears and neck. “Well, yes, but …” She tried to think of a reason, any reason, why he should deny herself Max’ company. She had only just met him, there was that, but how else did people get to know each other? Admittedly, he had an almost disturbingly freeing effect on her, a way of melting her false resolve to remain aloof. Kat wondered for a moment, why was he so persistent, before striking the thought. He wanted to be with her. Why was that so surprising to her? She didn’t want to fight it, fight herself, any more.

Answering his gaze, this time with self-assured confidence, she declared “Yes, I would love to have lunch with you.”

He beamed, all boyish glee and coltish energy. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out his phone and stabbed quickly at the buttons. “I have a wonderful idea!” He turned away to talk, his voice and manner taking on a different, more authoritative air. This was a completely different Max, unyieldingly in charge of the circumstances, and she secretly relished the idea of being at the yielding end of his will. But, as quickly as the in-charge Max appeared, he was replaced with his more charming self as the phone returned to its pocket.

“I think you’ll like my surprise,” he announced merrily.

“This whole day has been one big surprise!” Kat sighed as Max reached for her hand.

“Well then,” he answered, “No sense in stopping now!”

They strolled silently toward the Square, happily ensconced in the bubble only couples can construct to blur out all beside each other. Kat noticed an odd sensation or, rather a lack of one. There was no sense of eyes on her, their heaviness weighing her down as she walked. She was certain they had to be attracting quite a lot of attention; after all, they were quite an eccentric pair. Yet, she didn’t care if anyone looked at them. Actually, she hoped they did. Let them look. Let them see her brilliant smile, her topaz blonde curls bobbing in time with her jaunty steps at Max’ side. That was it, Kat realized, they were staring but could not dampen her spirits with their gawking.

Was this what being happy felt like? It had been so long since Kat’s heart had felt so light, so hopeful. Whatever it was, she wanted more.

As they passed Jackson toward the edge of the Square, open spaces behind them them, Max turned Kat to face him. “Would you indulge me a silly conceit?” he asked shyly. “Could you close your eyes? I really want to surprise you and, if you can see it, it won’t be very special at all.” Kat hesitated. “I promise, nothing funny … please?”

Kat froze. “Ummm,” she replied, giving a sound to her deliberation. What the hell should she do? She really wanted to trust him, but was this pushing it too far? Granted, she’d come along so far and, though her doubts tried to surface, Kat shoved them back down. Why the hell not go the rest of the way? He’d given her no cause to be nervous, no reason to think he was anything but a charming suitor wanting to win her over.

Tamping down the last shivers of indecision, Kat closed her eyes and let Max direct her. Across an open space, down a walk, and through a buzzing crowd they went, his arm encircling her waist. They reached a doorway, entered, and proceeded slowly up a flight of stairs, as Kat savored the safety she felt in Max’ protective embrace. When they reached the top of the stairs, a voice called out from the rooms beyond and Kat almost jumped at the shock of it.

“It’s all right, Kat,” Max cooed in her ear. “Please don’t be afraid. Just a little further.” He urged her on and, fighting the urge to open her eyes, Kat swallowed hard and hoped she hadn’t chosen poorly. Through an open area, out another doorway Max led her until she felt a breeze on her flushed cheek. They turned and she was deposited next to what felt like a table to her outstretched hand while Max stepped away for a few minutes. Her heart beat wildly in her chest. Should she sneak a peek? Before she could answer herself, Kat heard two sets of soft footsteps. One stopped, the other continuing to her side.

“Would you like to see your surprise?” Max whispered, his lips lightly tickling her ear. Kat nodded mutely and slowly let her eyes creep open. She was on the balcony of Upper Pontalba, a table exquisitely set before her and the noise and grime of the city below. The strange voice and footsteps belonged to a burly older man standing just outside the French doors, dressed in crisp chef’s whites.

“Sorry if I startled you, Miss, I didn’t expect I should be quiet,” the man spoke. “Mr. Calder has hired me away lots of times, but never with company … especially such lovely company.” He winked slyly at her, causing the blush to rush back to her cheeks. “I’m Beau. I’ll be taking care of y’all so, if you need anything at all, you just call on me.” Kat was taken aback, just nodding slightly with a surprised stare.

Max, obviously pleased by her reaction, addressed the chef. “He wasn’t too put out, was he?”

Beau smiled, a hearty laugh exploding from his broad chest. “I’ve never seen him so worked up! Cursing a blue streak, he was! But, here I am anyway.” He slapped a beefy thigh for punctuation. “You do have some pull, my friend, but next time, I’d give him a little more than a half-hour. The man is a wreck, I’m telling you!”

Max grinned, satisfied with his coup. “Well, this is special. Couldn’t wait.” He gazed at Kat, his crooked grin expanding across his boyish face.

The chef nodded, winked once more in her direction, and settled into a more professional demeanor. “I pulled the bottle you requested from your collection. If you need me, Mr. Calder, I’ll be right in the kitchen. First course in, shall we say, 20 minutes?”

“Thank you, Beau. That would be wonderful.” Once again alone, Max turned to Kat, peering thoughtfully into her eyes. “How do you like it so far?”

Barely able to control her voice, her eyes large green question marks, she blurted out, “How in the world?”

Max glanced down briefly before returning to her. “Well, it helps to be the latest in a long line of Maxwell Calders with the trust that comes with it,” he confessed, a crackle of embarrassment sneaking into his tone. “Now you know one of my dirty secrets. I’m a terrible, overindulged dilettante. Still like me?”

His expression, hopeful and yet nervous for her reaction, melted what little resistance might have tried to creep into her heart. She had no words to express the growing warmth spreading through her, the joyful sparkle lighting her eyes. She stepped toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting her lips return where they’d been aching to go since they left St. Louis.

With no one to stop them, they melted into each other with abandon. Max’ cool, soft lips pressed against hers eagerly, his hands reaching up to pull her more firmly to him. Heated desire pumped like warm honey through Kat’s veins as she explored Max, nibbling his lower lip, grazing her tongue lightly against his. With each renewed crest of passion, their bodies clung more tightly to each other with ecstatic longing to be closer, and closer still. The hooting and catcalls from below did nothing to deter them, only driving them further into each other, reaching for a place where they could be above it all, only the two of them and their need for each other.

Slowly, their heated urgency abated to sweet, soft seduction. Max cupped her face tenderly, his lips kissing her chin, her cheeks, her softly closed eyelids. Kat’s eyes slowly opened to meet his. Warmth, need mingled together in their glimmering depths, reflecting hers. They turned to face the open Square, onlookers still staring unabashedly at the shameless lovers caught in the throes of their romantic spell. Kat had already grown to love the feel of Max’s embrace, his arms wrapped around her waist as she leaned back to nestle into his chest.

“Are you glad you came?” he whispered softly, his lips grazing the back of her neck.

Nuzzling closer to him, utterly content, she purred, “There is nowhere else I’d rather be.”

As he held her tighter, Kat could feel just the slightest trace of moisture against her cheek. “I’ve been searching for so long … I’m so happy you’re here.”

The conclusion of Awake will be available Wednesday, August 12

My name is Philip and I am the singer for a band Called STEADLUR. I’m sure you are thinking, “Why am I reading this?” or “I never heard of your band and I don’t care!” Well, it’s too late. You’re in too deep now and I’m about to tell you a short but sweet story of me and my traveling stretch fucking jeans…

walking down Hawthorne street - click for full

I uploaded some pictures for you of me wandering around Portland Oregon, hopping from bar to bar with my lady and some random friends I have met in Portland. After chugging a sparks (YUCK!), I made my way over to a bar called Mulligans but fell in love with a brick wall painted blue. So. I had to take some pictures in front of it. The people around me stared like I was crazy. but I told them, “Don’t be alarmed; I’m a professional”.

@ The East End in Portland - click for full

After that, I headed to a popular bar called The East end (if you haven’t got it yet… I like to drink). Some rad people work there that play punk rock, some rad rock or punk bands play there also. I took some bathroom photos ’cause the walls were covered in flyers. Plus, who doesn’t take pictures in the bathroom?

The weather was amazing, so we walked to a place that was having 1 dollar pbr & corn dogs. I put, like, 10 dollars in the juke box and played everything from Motorhead to Weezer while sitting outside taking pictures.

After, we headed to my friend’s house because he had guitars, wine, drugs and air conditioning! It was hotter the hell but I love summer nights. We proceeded to jam, drink wine and draw on his wall, which is a gigantic chalk board. Not too much later, I passed out from a mixture of substances…

The gang & me later on in the night, 100 beers later @ Hungry Tiger Too in Portland

Yep. I love how people will come up to me or go out of their way to try in pick on me for wearing tight jeans, like its cool to be wearing flip flops, cargo shorts or a college football hat. The best part is their fake compliments. “Hey, those are really cool jeans–where could I get a pair?” I’ll tell them stores, web sites, everything and they try to stop the conversation, but I’m like, “No, you asked, so I’ll inform you and your entire Fraternity.”

I think frat boys like baggy pants because it covers their lack of bulge.

Damn fashion police! - Click for full size

Everyone in my band wears stretch jeans, but I’m not saying that’s the cool thing to do. It’s just what we are into; not bell bottoms, not boot-cut or what ever, just stretch fucking jeans. Anyways, before I go on and on about douchebags picking on guys with long hair and tight jeans, I’ll shut my big mouth.

Every wednesday I will be leaving huge blogs about what me and my lip service jeans have been up to. I’ll post pictures, videos, links and whatever else I feel like but, in the mean time, you should make your way over to my band’s myspace page and check us out or whatever!

2 be continued …

Philip Steadlur On the Road with Stretch Fuck’n Jeans will be back next Wednedsay, August 5

flyers in the bathroom - click for full

Our flight to San Diego left at a far more civilized hour than the NYC trip, thank goodness. As a bonus, it was leaving from the gate in the shiny new wing of the SeaTac airport, which meant we were able to get coffee (oh, blessed coffee) from the Dilettante Chocolate Cafe, and I indulged in a few pieces of chocolate. While we were getting (very tasty!) organic breakfast sandwiches from a different cafe, a lady looked me up and down and asked, “What are you supposed to be?”

“Myself!” I cheerfully answered. “I look like this all the time!”

The lady blinked and said, “Oh. Well that’s great!” I don’t know if she believed me, but that’s her problem, not mine.

The flight was uneventful, getting our baggage went smoothly, and the cab ride to the hotel was just fine … until we got close to the convention center. Then all traffic slowed to crawl, and it took us ages to get to our hotel. But finally we did; as we were checking in, the clerk asked if we were okay with our room overlooking the “very industrial” part of the landscape, or did we want to pay $15 extra a night to have a room on the side of the hotel with the view? We went with the “very industrial” vista as we knew we wouldn’t be spending a lot of time gazing out of our windows. So up we went to the 27th floor, quickly unpacked, and then walked the less-than a block to the convention center to pick up our badges.

Now mind you, this was Thursday. ComicCon hadn’t really gotten into full swing yet. But we walked past an enormous line outside full of people waiting to get into the panel about James Cameron’s Avatar movie. People who had been standing in line for probably half a day or more. I admire their dedication; I can’t think of anything I would be willing to stand outside in the sun that long for. I don’t even go to outdoor music festivals, for heaven’s sake!

Zomcon zombies - click for full size

Another astonishing thing was the number of people we saw in elaborate costumes. This was not my first time at ComicCon, I knew that people go all out on their costumes. I just didn’t expect to see that many people fully dressed-up on the first full day of the show. I saw a lot of Stormtroopers, a couple of Darth Vaders, some Boba Fetts, swarms of Batmans, Supermans, and Wonder Women, costumes that I assume were from video games or manga that I didn’t know, small frilly packs of Gothic Lolitas, zombies, and many, many Steampunks. (What is the collective noun for a group of Steampunks? A cog? An engine?) I saw more Steampunks than Goths, which struck me as a little odd, for some reason. But then I guess it makes sense, for in my mind Steampunk is more of a “costume”, what with the preference for creating personas to go along with the cogs and goggles, than Goth.

Speaking of Steampunk: while wandering through the Exhibition Hall, a lady behind me started chanting “Steampunk! Steampunk!” at me, and then asked if I made my costume because it looked great. For the record, I was wearing a black knee-length full skirt with petticoats, boots, a black ribbon-trimmed chemise, a pink and black striped blazer, and my usual top hat. So, not something *I* would consider particularly Steampunk. Maybe the top hat confused her. But I explained that no, I was a Goth, and that I wasn’t in costume, but did thank her for the compliment on my wardrobe.

Gothspotting at Comic-Con! - click for full

The Exhibition Hall was almost overwhelming in the amount of noise and semi-controlled chaos going on. And crowded, even though Thursday was one of the “light” days. But The Husband and I traipsed up and down the aisles, looking at all sorts of art and enticing collectible goodies (noticing several things we planned on purchasing later), and finding our friends who were working at the show. After taking about three and a half hours to walk around the entire hall, we shuffled back to our hotel, had dinner, and collapsed for some much-needed sleep.

(A Helpful Tip if you ever attend SDCC: bring your most comfortable footwear. I made sure to bring the most comfortable pair of boots I owned, and was very thankful for that every night when we finally stopped walking around.)

Friday was the Big Day for us – our Gothic Charm School autograph session was scheduled for 3:00 that afternoon. So I put on petticoats, a knee-length bustle skirt, chemise, my customized Lip Service “Black Tales White Lies jacket (I hand-colored all of the b&w striped trim and buttons pink. Yes, I am that crazy.), and my top hat, and headed to the jam-packed Exhibition Hall.

Where there were even more people in fantastic costumes, and … a lot of people wearing “FREE HUGS!” t-shirts. Now, I consider myself a friendly and outgoing person. But the idea of wearing a t-shirt offering hugs to that many complete strangers freaks me right out, and made me feel mildly uncomfortable (on the shirt-wearer’s behalf!) at times.

Shaun of the Dead! - click for full size

Speaking of mildly uncomfortable – my recurring thought from wandering around the Exhibition Hall was “I’m too tired to summon up a sense of feminist outrage”. Why yes, half-naked booth babes and anatomically impossible art were everywhere, along with herds of geek boys who were obviously giddy to be near them. I know, I know, sex sells, but there were times that I wanted to go up to artists and ask them if they realized that the woman they had drawn wouldn’t be able to stand up if she were flesh & blood.

But other than the FREE HUGS and the feminist eye-rolling, roaming the Exhibition Hall was grand fun. Costumes! People-watching! Oooh, did I need to buy a Victorian-esque ray gun? (I eventually decided that no, I didn’t. But my goodness, it was very decorative.) Random people would stop me, compliment me on my costume and ask if they could take my photo.

(A note for Goths, Punks, and other eccentrically-dressed subculture types: At an event like San Diego Comic-con, if you’re not wearing “normal” casual clothing, people are going to assume you’re in some sort of costume. Just let it go. I stopped trying to explain I wasn’t in costume after the first day.)

(Also, if you are trying to dress in a gothy or punk style, underwear should not always be worn as outerwear. Really. Most petticoats look even better with a skirt over them, and if you want to expose your garters and stocking tops, make sure you aren’t stopping every few yards to adjust them. It makes you look like you’re not confident in what you’re wearing, and that’s not flattering to anyone.)

I was also stopped by a handful of people who recognized me as the Lady of the Manners, which was very exciting! I made sure to give them Gothic Charm School cards, tell them about the autograph session, and tried very hard not to flail too much in glee at being recognized. (What? It’s exciting!)

Friday's outfit - click for full size

The autograph session itself went very well. The Mysterious Galaxy bookstore was there with copies of the book for sale at the table, and I got to meet all sorts of fans. One young lady was so excited that she was barely able to bring herself to speak to me, which I found both endearing and perplexing. (Really, I’m not scary or difficult to talk to!) She brought me some of her artwork that was based off of some of my favorite YA books, the Vampire Kisses series by Ellen Schreiber. I was touched that she gave me the art, and am planning on putting it in the Gothic Charm School book tour scrapbook. I also met people I had only ever “talked” to online, and spent some time gossiping about fashion with some very nice Gothic Lolitas.

After our stint at the autograph table was done, it was time to scamper back downstairs to the Exhibition Hall to see if my determined collecting of raffle tickets won me one of the coveted wristbands for the Gabriel Bá & Gerard Way signing at the Dark Horse booth. I was in luck! So I stood in a very long line, and got to meet one of my pop idols. (Meet again, I should say, because I had been lucky enough to meet Gerard earlier that day at the Dark Horse booth and give him a copy of the Gothic Charm School book. Will he ever read it? I have no idea. But I’m glad I got a chance to meet him.)

If you didn’t know, San Diego Comic-Con is a great place for celebrity sighting. In addition to Gerard Way (and his brother Mikey), we saw people like Glenn Danzig, Joss Whedon, John Landis, Juliet Landau, and … Ron Jeremy. Yes, that Ron Jeremy, waiting in line at the Starbucks at the Exhibition Hall. My husband and I discussed whether I should go ask him if I could get a photo with him (as other people were doing), but we decided that a photo of the Lady of the Manners and the rather infamous Mr. Jeremy would quite possibly cause the universe to explode, so we didn’t risk it.

But oh, the photo ops! I made sure to get my photo taken with the very fierce-looking Nosferatu-style vampire that was stalking around (he was utterly charming), and with the equally charming Capt. Jack Sparrow. In fact, the strangest photo I was part of was myself, Capt. Jack Sparrow, Snake Eyes from G.I. Joe, and Spiderman in a black & silver costume. (Don’t ask me to explain it, because I can’t. But Spiderman was quite insistent that he needed a photo with all of us.)

One of the Red Queen's hats - click for full

Saturday passed in much the same way as Friday did, in a blur of walking around taking photos and attending panels. (Ray Bradbury! My favorite author of all time! Oh, it was wonderful to get a chance to see him and hear him speak.) However, Saturday night turned out to be more magical than I could have hoped for. We were at dinner with some friends when I received a text from another friend, telling me about some sort of tea party or exhibit for Tim Burton’s Alice In Wonderland movie. Being a fan of all things Alice In Wonderland and Tim Burton, I did some quick Googling on my handy iPhone, and discovered the address where this mysterious thing was supposedly happening. So after dinner, my companions kindly indulged me in strolling by there. Oh look, a giant poster for the movie! And people standing in line! I asked the gentleman who was the last person in line what was going on. He informed me that it was a exhibit of props, sets, and costumes from the upcoming movie, that you needed one of the special tags and keys to get in …. and that they weren’t giving away any more of the special keys. I sighed, expressed my dejection, and possibly stamped my tiny feet, because it was something that I really wanted to see, but alas, was not going to be able to.

The Mad Hatter's coat - click for full

“Do you really want to see it?” asked the last guy in the line.

“Well, yes, I answered, “Because I love Alice In Wonderland and Tim Burton.”

“Okay, here you go”, he said, handing his key to me.

I jumped up and down in glee, thanked him profusely, and waited in line with a huge grin on my face. The exhibit was breathtaking, and I am now even more excited for the movie. And also covet all of the costumes for the Red Queen and the Mad Hatter.

Sunday, the last day of the show, was low-key in a frenzied sort of way. Low-key because everyone was tired, and many people had already packed up and left. Frenzied, because everyone wanted to get in as much last-minute browsing and shopping as possible. The Husband and I dithered about assorted knick-knacks we might want (I made sure to purchase him a t-shirt that read Low on whimsy), and actually left the Exhibition Hall before it closed, in order to beat the stampeding crowds.

Going back to “real life” after San Diego Comic-Con is hard. It felt very strange to pack our bags and not wander over to the convention center to see the sights and look for random celebrities. Lucky for me that this current round of “real life” will last for about, oh, two days before I’m back on the road to Portland!

Check for more of Jillian’s Gothic Charm School book tour adventures next Wednesday, August 5!

To download, click on the appropriate size from the galleries below the sample image. This will open the wallpaper graphic you want full size in your browser window. Then, you can right-click to Save the image to your computer, where it can be selected as a desktop.

#1 – Dem Bones

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Steadlur - click to view full size

This week, we’re giving you a double-shot of new …

First, we’re starting a kick-ass new ‘zine diary feature, On the Road with Stretch Fuck’n Jeans, a weekly column featuring a pioneering artist and their world famous Lip Service Stretch Fuck’n Jeans. We’ll get to come along for their travels and adventures as they share their thoughts, photos, and videos, the mayhem and mud they get into in their favorite jeans. Check in every Wednesday for a peek into the world of the hot rockers and rebels who have made Lip Service even hotter!

We are also excited as hell to introduce you to one of RoadRunner Records’ hottest new bands, Atlanta’s own Steadlur. From line-up changes to living out of cars and rich girl’s pocketbooks to fist fighting their way through redneck crowds in the seedy Atlanta underground, Steadlur have survived four years of ups and downs on the road to success. Drawing influence from the likes of Guns n’ Roses to Motley Crüe to Foo Fighters to KISS, and everything in between, Steadlur kick out their signature brand of rock ‘n’ roll ecstasy, complete with anthemic melodies and addictive hooks. Here’s just a taste, their latest single, Bumpin’.

BUMPIN

You can check out more Steadlur at their MySpace page and buy their debut CD through RoadRunner Records.

Bringing it all together for us is Philip Steadlur, lead singer and guitarist of Steadlur, who will take us on our first journey. Outspoken frontman, certified wildman (ask him about a certain ride in a Hummer or a particular hotel suite sometime … or maybe just ask him what he’s been up to lately!), and B-movie/horror aficionado, Phil is one fascinating dude. Follow his Twitter stream and see what we mean … anybody this interesting, we want to follow and see what he’s up to when he’s not rocking a crowd.

Philip Steadlur - click to view full size

So, we asked him to tell us what he’s up to for the next month while he’s out rocking his Lip Service Stretch Fuck’n Jeans. We honestly have no idea what he’ll have to say, we only know we can’t wait to read his weekly column to find out! We had a chance to ask Philip a few questions as a glimpse into his life before his updates start next week … here’s what he had to say for himself:

Two brothers and two friends from Atlanta, GA- rockin’ and rollin’– livin’ the dream, but it’s bound to have some rough patches sometimes. What’s the hardest part of being in Steadlur?

Being in a band with my brother is the hardest yet coolest thing, I love being able to create music with my little brother but we fight about the dumbest things and the band just sits back and waits for it to end…haha I feel sorry for them sometimes.

Partyin’ alone can’t bring eternal joy to someone’s life (or….can it?). What do you do when you’re not partying?

I write a lot, watch horror movies, play guitar, talk to my woman on the phone, play with my dog, haha watch horror movies! I’m actually like a closet nerd/hermit. I love alone time so I’ll lock myself away from the world, watch movies and sit around on IMDB.com and look up more movies, actors, useless knowledge and watch YouTube. I’m also addicted to Tetris and reading Fangoria magazines.

What first attracted you to rock n roll? And what keeps you going?

Well, it was always in my blood, but I didn’t realize it till about age 12 when I heard the song Creep by Radiohead. The guitar tone lit me up like Christmas! I wanted to make sounds like that but I didn’t have a guitar, so I made my dad get me one that week. Then I broke it and I had to duct tape it back together because he refused to buy me another one.

Steadlur - click to view full size

A band being compared to Steel Panther (Los Angeles more-than-just-a-cover-band gone global phenom) has got to have a sense of humor about them. Do you like that you’re compared to that 80’s glam party stereotype? In which ways is it accurate/inaccurate?

Well, we both play rock & roll but I think they have like a gimmick thing going on (which is way cool, I totally dig them!). They are rad, funny as hell and their guitarist can shred. I think they are more Van Halen, Poison and we lean more to Gn’R or Skid Row. When we shot our video for “bumpin’” in LA,  afterward we went and watched their show. It blew me away! Those guys had me laughing all night and I think I drank like 10 red headed sluts.

Okay, we have to ask … How do you keep your hair looking so great?

I never wash it and my little sister helps me, haha she’s bad ass! Every band we tour with picks on us about our jeans and long black hair. They always say “Hey Steadlur queers, stay out of my sister’s closet!” or “Cut your hair!”. It’s all in good fun but, deep down inside. I know they might be just a little jealous.

We have been asked if it’s a requirement to have long black hair and stretch jeans to be in Steadlur, I always say, “Yeah. It is, actually.”

What are your favorite rock n roll fashion essentials?

Scarves, bandanas, bangles, my guitars … I love a rad necklace or two … I sometimes paint my nails, black jeans, wine, my favorite shirt and I should stop because I could go on and on…..

What do you have to say to anyone who has still not discovered Steadlur yet?

“Hello, my name is Philip. You should check my band out if you get a chance; it goes well with a cold beer…. CHEERS!”

What’s in the works for Steadlur? Upcoming tour(s), recordings, give us the skinny on where you’re headed!

At the moment, we are taking a small breather but planning tours, writing, vacationing and just looking towards our future. Mainly, just writing, though we are always jamming, writing new songs or getting tattooed and having a good time.

Join Philip Steadlur On the Road with Stretch Fuck’n Jeans on the Lip Service Webzine every Wednesday!

Yep, we’re giving real prizes for your Fashion Freak Friday photos. Now do we have your attention? Cool!

Here’s the deal. You post a TwitPic of what you’re wearing every Friday and make sure you include @LipServiceCult and #fashionfreakfriday in your photo comment so we can find you. We’ll re-tweet all our favorites throughout the day (and evening too … don’t forget shots of yourself when you’re out to play in your Lip Service gear!).

Our favorite of the day will be posted on the Lip Service webzine every Wednesday as our Fashion Freak of the Week.

From there, we will collect all the Fashion Freak Friday winners for the month and give you a week to vote for your favorite. The Fashion Freak Favorite of the month will win a $25 Lip Service credit! So, get snapping!

Fashion Freak Friday winner 7/31 - Lady Rosetta

TrixyDee - Fashion Freak Friday winner 7/24

Yvonne Danger - Fashion Freak of the Week 7/10/09

Aniline - Fashion Freak Friday winner 7/17

There is nothing we love more than giving you the heads up on cool stuff other Fashion Freaks are doing! That’s why every month on the ‘zine, we’ll be spotlighting someone out there in the Lip Service universe doing something creative. This month, we aim our bright light at Belfast and Wayne Simmons.

About Wayne:

Belfast born, Wayne Simmons, has been loitering with intent around the horror underground for some years. Having scribbled reviews and interviews for the likes of Pretty Scary, ZOMBIE-A-GOGO and REVENANT MAGAZINE , Wayne is now delighted to release his debut (zombie-ish) horror novel, DROP DEAD GORGEOUS, through PERMUTED PRESS…

In what little spare time Wayne has left, he enjoys walks by the shore, getting tattooed and listening to all manner of unseemly screeches on his BOOM-BOOM Box…

About Drop Dead Gorgeous

Drop Dead Gorgeous - click for full size

From Permuted Press:
While Star, shorn-headed and black-eyed tattooist, began inking her first client of a warm, spring Sunday morning, the world died…

All across Belfast, the hungover majority lapsed into a deeper sleep than normal. Something changed gear, Mother Nature’s darker side rampant throughout the unholy mess of crashing cars, smouldering televisions and falling aircraft.

DROP DEAD GORGEOUS spits out the story of a shell-shocked group of post-apocalyptic survivors as they search for purpose in a broken-down city. In a world stifled by the very smell of death, they scrape out a new life, fear and desperation giving rise to new tensions and old habits…

… But a new threat, as beautiful as it is deadly, crawls out of life’s wreckage, fuelled only by feral hunger and several shades of chaos…

Heavily inspired by Asian Horror cinema, blending fantasy with dark sci-fi, Drop Dead Gorgeous promises the gore-hungry hordes the finest in tattooed Horror. As visceral as it is delicious, this is one apocalyptic shocker you won’t want to miss…

What’s our take?
If your thing is politely worded tomes about fragile heroines, Drop Dead Gorgeous is probably a bit harsh for your delicate sensibilities. BUT, if you’re into action-laced horror filled with choice vulgarity, vivid gore, and full-tilt, ass-kicking chicks out to, not just survive, but live with a vengeance sporting a cranked up attitude, Drop Dead Gorgeous is your kind of read.

Visit the official site of Drop Dead Gorgeous

12 in a Box

When looking over the hellscape that is mainstream comedy film, it may feel like there is nothing but cheap laughs from cruelty, dick & fart jokes aimed at 12 year olds, and lame sight gags. Where are the clever films with scathing wit, intelligence, and realistic human interaction? Well, in the less-publicized world of indie film, of course. We’ve found one of these hidden gems and, as luck would have it, it’s scheduled for a limited engagement right here in Los Angeles!

12 in a Box was shown earlier this year at the Brittish Film Festival (in LA), where it won the Best UK Film award. My husband and I were fortunate to have been invited to the festival and have a chance to see this smart, funny film. Though we tend to only go to a limited number of movies in the theater, much less ones we’ve already seen, 12 in a Box is on our calendar for a second go-round during its run at the Laemmle early next month.

Farce can go a lot of ways, few which manage to fully capture the art with wit and nuance. Happily for those of us who can’t get enough of classic Brittish farces and great screwball comedies of the 30s, 12 in a Box finds just the right balance between believability and absurdity. And, like the films it celebrates, it lets that balance subtly tilt off kilter as the story builds. There is never a moment when you doubt the characters or the strange situations that ensue. Even near the end of the film, when the comic tension and wits of the characters have reached a fever pitch, the odd developments feel right and somehow natural.

12 in a Box poster - click for full size

The premise of the film is simple, twelve people are invited to a stately mansion for a school reunion dinner and offered 1 million pounds cash each if they stay there, cut off from the outside world, for 96 hours. Of course, in the great tradition of farce, this simple goal becomes increasingly complicated rather quickly. Alliances are forged and broken, relationships tested, and no one is quite what what they seem. What begins as a single unpleasant wrench in the plan, sets off a chain of events that wind up the manic tension toward and ending that will, literally, have you gasping out loud and jumping up from your seat.

Granted, this is not one of those formulaic “with a twist” films. In 12 in a Box, writer/director John McKenzie has crafted an entertaining story, rich with believably quirky characters, witty dialogue, and strange complications which build organically on each other throughout the film. Standouts in the cast are Belle Hithersay as the seemingly sweet and pious Alice and Kenneth Collard as Barry, who will need to skip his own wedding to earn his million pound nest egg, but the entire ensemble truly deserves a lot of credit. It’s obvious a lot of love and care went into creating the story and bringing it to life.

Certainly, there are a lot of comedies vying for your film-going dollar during the summer. Great independent films like 12 in a Box can be harder to find behind the giant hype bubble surrounding much of mainstream Hollywood’s churn ‘em out dreck. But, as in life, seeking out something better is always worth the effort.

Check out 12 in a Box during its week-long engagement (premiers August 7, 2009) at:
Laemmle’s Music Hall 3
9036 Wilshire Blvd.
Beverly Hills, 90211
310-274-6869

For info and tickets: view Laemmle’s 12 in a Box page

View The official 12 in a Box website