Posts Tagged ‘Das Bunker’

Story by: Dan Barrett

I had been tracking the thing for nearly five years, and the culmination of my rigorous efforts had finally paid off. After painstakingly monitoring the haunted Pine Barrens of New Jersey, vigilantly tracking the movements of the legendary Jersey Devil, I had at last caught it off guard during one of its extremely rare daytime appearances. There had been much construction in the area in the last quarter century, encroaching into the devil’s suspected habitat, and as a result the number of sightings had increased greatly.

On this day, it had come to an outcropping of unused cement pipes; seemingly creeping ever-closer to the nearby town in order to feed. One would not dare to hunt the thing at night, for it takes on a most heinous and otherworldly form in these dark hours, impossibly grotesque and fearsome enough to cause the most stalwart of hunters to flee. During waking hours, however, it seemed to take on a traditional human form; this must be how it evaded humanity for its alleged two and a half century existence. When I saw it appear in plain sight, I knew I had a small window to work with and instantaneously leapt into action. I was able to take down the cursed, devil-spawned 13th child somewhat easier than expected with my plethora of hunting paraphernalia.

Once subdued, I planned to return the fiend to civilization and collect a ransom from the city. On the condition there was no ransom out for the creature, I would instead present it carnival freak-show style to earn back the money I spent acquiring the gear used to apprehend it. The beast did not seem pleased when told of its newly apportioned fate. I took it to a large metal shipping container which should adequately serve to house the thing. I chained it inside and left, planning to return the subsequent day. Upon returning, I discovered I had grossly underestimated the Jersey Devil. With an inhuman, ear-piercing howl, it easily snapped off the restraints and descending upon me, tearing me into a hundred bits with its horrible clawed hands. When the massacre concluded it retreated into the ill-lit dusk, primed to kill again.

The Jersey Devil Made You Do It

I’ve called myself a resident of many places. For close to three years I lived in a particularly depressing town, inconveniently located in the Southern Tier of New York state, called Binghamton (it’s actually considered to be one of the “bigger” towns in Upstate New York, but you’ve probably never heard of it). Believe me when I say that it was nothing to write home about. And because upstate New York is such a non-stop party, six months later I moved three and a half hours north to Buffalo. While my reason for moving there can’t be chalked up to either good or sober decision making, anything was a vast improvement over the ass end of nowhere that was Binghamton. I now live in Washington DC. Ideally, I’d love to live in either Toronto or Montreal, and luckily I’ve never lived in Pennsylvania (straddling the PA border in godforsaken Binghamton proved to be evidential enough to the fact that the Universe conspired against me). And despite spending the first nine years of my life in southern Poland, I always have and always will consider myself to be from New Jersey.

Oh shit, you mean Bruce Springsteen? Bon Jovi? Those guidos on Jersey Shore? The mafia? Bad smells?

I can’t even NAME a Bruce Springsteen song, mainly due to the fact that I relocated to New Jersey in 1992 from Eastern Europe. Having discovered “goth” just a few years after, left me quite happily ignorant of mainstream pop icons in general. Especially those who took the stage way before my time. Based on that principle of being a “blissfully unaware foreigner” I’m only vaguely acquainted with Bon Jovi. He does that “Living on a Prayer” track, right? Most of the guidos don’t even live in New Jersey (try Poughkeepsie and Staten Island, both conveniently located in New York). Alas, my Polish father liked to talk about the mafia while intoxicated when I was younger, so yeah, you got me there. That shit is probably true. It only smells ON THE FUCKING TURNPIKE in north Jersey, since it’s a high-traffic stretch of highway sandwiched between numerous factories. And that ladies and gentlemen is my humble way of saying “Fuck you New York, if you’re gonna hate on us, why do you keep on coming back to our “smelly” beaches?” Just sayin’.

With that said, the show that put the Garden State on the world’s radar in the worst way possible is essentially on point. Guidos do flock to Seaside Heights in droves during warm vacation months. They do look like oompa loompas on stereoids. They love to start fights. Like any other working/middle class New Jersey-ian kid I’d go to Seaside Heights every summer with my parents. In my teenage years, as my interest in booze and cheap thrills grew inversely proportional to being seen with my family, I’d hit the shore with friends in search of strong frozen drink, high calorie foods and House of the Dead arcade games. If you stayed on the boardwalk past dusk, you’d be guaranteed to see at least one guido fight break out. Every. single. fucking. time.

But that’s not MY New Jersey.

My New Jersey isn’t Club Karma and made-for-reality-TV-drama. It’s QXT’s in Newark. It’s devouring post-club grease in seedy diners at 5 am, driven by an alcohol-fueled urge to feed without worrying about your calorie intake. It’s record shops that still carry industrial music. It’s urban exploration of all the magnificent decay. It’s Clinton Road and the Devil’s Tree. It’s submitting your own spin on a local legend to the pages of Weird NJ. It’s the Asbury Park Zombie Walk. It’s a Six Flags that doesn’t suck. It’s exquisite views of Manhattan from across the river, minus the Manhattan rent. It’s 908, 973 and 201. It’s real life landmarks you see in Kevin Smith movies (Yes, the Quick Stop Jay & Silent Bob hang out in front of is very much real). It’s a little bit vulgar (but I like it that way). It’s never running out of photoshoot locations. And no, I can’t forget the shore (Nobody in New Jersey calls it “a beach”, it’s always “the shore”).

No matter what my current zip code may be, it will always be home.

And this is how I personally channel the state of New Jersey through my wardrobe. Your mileage might vary.

• Anything slightly too loud, just a tad excessive and “a little too much” (i.e.: stripper approved footwear, corsets)
• Big hair is essentially an institution in the state of New Jersey.
• Leopard print should be worn often and liberally.
• Heavily made up eyes are not merely accepted nor encouraged, they’re required by law.
• Das Bunker Cap Sleeve Top in the black/gunmetal colorway. . We’ve got a pretty decent industrial scene in NJ. Represent in hot rivet girl wear.
• A clear absence of anything beginning with “Ed” and ending with “Hardy”.
• Fishnets.Once the whole fucking world thinks you’re trashy, you might as well own the cliché and make it your bitch.

Credits

Photography:Andrew Ellis Photography

Model:Vanity Kills

Location(s): New Jersey…duh

<3

Vanity Kills

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Space Police

Story by: Dan Barrett

The commissioner’s face materialized on the silver video screen next to the bed. Grey light from dome’s simulated sun pierced the window and reflected into her eyes from the display’s metallic border. She was being called into action to prevent another attack on an incoming interstellar freighter; this one was scheduled to dock at port 17. The image fizzled out and the monitor receded back into its fitted slot in the steel plated wall. She hopped up and threw on her uniform, her shoes clanking lightly against the linoleum flooring of the housing unit. At the door she punched in the command sequence and the lift elevator arrived speedily to whisk her to the ground floor twenty six levels below. She vaulted into her hover car and took the tunnel under the ruins of the midtown bridge – the quickest way to get to the shipping terminals. Once she arrived, ray gun in hand, she moved stealthy past the silver, glass-encased high rises and gardening robots tending to the vegetation carefully arranged in efficient rows interspersed throughout the cities’ sidewalks. The building which housed the terminals was surrounded by large, saucer shaped light rigs which contained super-efficient atomic bulbs that could last 5,000 years without replacement. The roughly diamond shaped, concrete guard post with trapezoidal windows was abandoned: a clear sign of foul play. She quietly entered through a side door and noticed that the two security cameras blinking at irregular frequencies, likely an indication of tampering. She un-holstered her weapon and began the trek down the long, dustless corridors making up the myriad, though efficiently designed, innards of the terminals, where eventually she would confront and take down another day’s worth of lunar bandits, with enough time to hit the new hyper sauna 3000 before nightfall.

Inspiration List: My boyfriend who, upon seeing the Das Bunker Cap Sleeve Top informed me that the shirt looks akin to something “Space Police” might wear. I took it as an issue of challenge and ran with the idea head-first at full speed.

Additional inspiration: I cannot help but be enthralled by some of the finest examples of Brutalist architecture Washington DC has to offer. I’m especially partial to the UFO-like plastic canopies lining the plaza in front of the stately exposed concrete behemoth that is the Robert C .Weaver Building, closely followed by the cylindrical Hirschorn museum, often referred to as “a spacecraft parked on the National Mall”, and likened to a bunker. I knew juxtaposing the austerity of the béton brut with the bright optimism earmarked by tales of star-faring, silver-Ray-Gun-toting heroines of the Space Age era would be a marriage made in retrofuturist heaven.

First came the asbestos

In the beginning of the 20th century, as mankind inched closer and closer to the still mystery-enshrouded year 2000, it was hard to imagine what wonders this mythical “land of tomorrow” might have in store for the clothes-conscious citizen of the future, but it certainly didn’t stop scientists, designers and Sci-Fi writers alike from taking (often hilariously wrong) guesses. Yesterday’s sartorial speculations of what the brave new world might hold for us usually scored fairly high on the WTF scale. For example, 1913 prophesized the dawn of a new style era spearheaded by the popularization of the phototropic garment. Clothing would readily conform to the amount of light present in its immediate vicinity. In theory, a simple light-colored sheath would morph from beach wear to darker hued barroom attire as day turned to night. No changing necessary. I suppose the only thing they got right there was the fact that the “women of the future” visit more bars than they did in 1913. Then, in 1929, “fashion forward” became synonymous with dresses of asbestos and aluminum. But hey, I’ll take that over the recent resurgence of those hideous early 90’s floral prints that brutally beat my aesthetic sensibilities into the ground every time I step foot in a mall.

Some of those wise men of the past also foretold personal aerial vehicles, which still have failed to materialize.

And then space flight became a reality

Mass hysteria followed.

The excitement of conquering the final frontier influenced everything under the sun. Little Jimmy pretended to shoot the neighbor’s kid with his shiny new toy ray gun, Mommy read her racy paperback romance novels by the light of a Sputnik-shaped bedside lamp and the teenaged sis made out with her school’s football hero in the back of his tail-fin pimped 1959 Cadillac Eldorado. And that was just the present. The oh-so-eagerly anticipated future was going to be like 500x more awesome, right?

We’d have robot nannies to raise our brood (more time for those steamy paperbacks for Mommy), smart houses that cleaned themselves (and were possibly voiced by a pleasantly alluring British accent) and we’d regularly take summer vacation to Mars. Can I get a FUCK YEAH, MARS?

Oh, and we’d all dress like the Jetsons. But darker. Therefore giving a giant fuck you to the popular notion that “cybergoth” is the only way to rock futuristic frocks.

Sometimes in order to see the future, it’s very much necessary to look into the past.

Industrial Pinup

Forsaking eye-blinding neons in favor of a palette inspired by both the vast blackened vacuum of the cosmos and progress carved from concrete and steel. Future seen through the eyes of the past, spotlighting the mid-century’s focus on showcasing the female shape, is the perfect vehicle for the industrial pinup. Tapping into the grace of the yesteryear, while simultaneously millennia ahead of her peers, she does “futureperfect” while wholly circumnavigating thedomain of the cybergoth. And you’d never mistake her for a raver.

• Das Bunker Cap Sleeve Top in the black/gunmetal colorway boasts exaggerated, angular shoulders that get the “retrofuture” message across loud and clear. And suit the female body better than the unisex jumpsuit and other retrofuristic fashion don’ts that its ilk do. Not particularly feeling all the excessive décolletage? Simply layer a basic black stretch bandeau underneath, lending the appearance of a more modest look, without adding the burden of actually wearing multiple pieces.
• Traditionally a garment of the past, the corset is given a new life in PVC, a manmade petroleum based industrial textile.
• A knee length black skirt gives structure to the ensemble, preventing it from crossing over into cosplay territory.
• Channeling the reflective aluminum sheen of the satellites silver was all the rage during the Space Age. Beam up your “retro rivet” quotient with a silver circuit printed wedge cap.
• Clunky platforms give way to metallic tack studded strappy boot wedges
• Keep it catty in a purrfect pair of Leopard Fishnet Tights.
• Pew…pew….lasers! The Ray Gun is fairly self explanatory, right? I mean how the fuck else are you going to kill space pirates?

Detailed victory roll instructions can be found here here. And just like I mentioned in Springtime Sacrifice the “if you fuck up one roll beyond repair cover it up with a hat” rule still applies.

Keeping with the “retro” theme, here are two makeup looks from editions of Lethal Style past that would easily complement this getup:

• The black/silver look from Springtime Sacrifice.
• The “no fuss gold look” from Donut Quest.Though I swapped the black liquid eyeliner for a metallic lime green and opted for a red-orange tomato tinted lip in place of the nude pink pout in the Space Police shoot.

Credits

Photography: Wynn Studio

Model:Vanity Kills

Location: exterior of the Robert C .Weaver Building & the Hirschorn Museum in Washington DC

<3

Vanity Kills

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For this fashion-crazed style blogger, 2010 was all about Giger-inspired prints, reach-for-the-sky strong shoulder accented silhouettes (Cyber Sniper, Das Bunker) and an excess of pinks (cotton candy, magenta, and neon-OH MY!)

As far as “the scene” is concerned, I believe pink became the new black sometime circa 1998, which not-so-oddly coincided with Marilyn Manson going through his Mechanical Animals phase. Outwardly ripping off David Bowie’s 70s glam-rock androgynous alien alter ego, Ziggy Stardust, seemed to produce an interesting trickledown effect. As if overnight, a new breed of “glam goth” surfaced, seemingly out of nowhere. You better believe that the very hordes of black-clad teens who’d scoff at the mere mention of pink just a month or so prior, declaring it unfit to wear for anyone who wasn’t a “prep”, started to sport fuchsia feather boas draped around their necks. The look was in no way complete without a heavy helping of good old-fashioned denial upon being questioned about the sudden change of heart (“Pink? I’ve been rocking that shit for years”). It goes without saying that just about every self professed “glam goth” would rather die than cite Marilyn Manson as a style influence. I know I’d publicly announce to anyone within earshot that “My look was heavily influenced by Switchblade Symphony” (Despite Switchblade Symphony’s signature ensembles being more “babydoll” than “glam”). Given the fact I’m turning 28 next month, it’s safe to say I am fully capable of looking back and finding endless amusement in the folly of my “gother-than-thou” youth. Oh, to be 16 again and think coupling pink with black was the ultimate fashion forefront.

“Glam Goths” came and went (it wasn’t long before the retina-hurting bright tribe of cybergoths filled the color void), Manson swelled with coke bloat, and yet the author’s love for this perky shade remained. Some things never change.

Nothing embodies the flamboyant essence of “glam goth” better than Nocturnal Rendezvous Ruffle Shrug in the black/magenta colorway. Princess-like puff sleeves, magenta PVC ruffles adorned with black lace overlay and ribbon detailing make for the most ultimate “Look-at-me-I’m-high-maintenance“ accompaniment to all those slinky New Year’s Eve Party gowns. Not exactly a garment built for comfort, but “glam goths” tend to attribute such things to those with more plebeian tastes. These vainglorious creatures are far more concerned with reeling in praise for their wardrobe choices :)

I love Space Age nostalgia. Yesterday’s tomorrow populated the collective minds of mid-century masses with visions of a high-tech utopia yet to materialize: Hover cars, colonizing the moon, traveling to far off galaxies and mating with hot space aliens. Not to mention the sex robots! Since NONE OF THIS will happen in my lifetime, I’ll have to settle for attiring myself in retro-futuristic pieces straight out of Judy Jetson’s closet, like this Cyber Sniper Skylab Zip Front Jacket in the black/neon pink colorway. Excuse me while my bubblegum hued pointy-shouldered jacket and I continue to long for “the future that never was”.

Adding a grimly dystopian touch to your casual get-ups without going full on Road Warrior is easier than you think. With their unmistakably Giger-esque flair, Erotomechanics Printed Leggings paired with a basic black or grey sweater dress make for a no-nonsense (yet still surprisingly high impact) day look.

Don’t let winter give you the cold shoulder! Stay stylishly warm indoors by layering the Erotomechanics Cropped Jacket over your favorite tank or tee. Swap your usual bulky sweatshirt for this sexy biomechanical wrapper and look just as hot watching Alien all cuddled up on the couch with your boy as you do tearing it up at the club when a good old school Hocico track comes on.

Action Shot:

My friend Lisa and I attired in our matching Erotomechanics Cropped Jackets at a Worms of the Earth show at Club Orpheus in Baltimore, MD. Since the photo is cut off at the waist, you can’t see that we wore matching Erotomechanics Printed Leggings and Oil Spill Skirts with Zip Front Garter and Pouch as well.

The Lolita Candy Snap Front Neck Collar in the black/pink colorway can really doll up an otherwise unnotable solid color button down, add a pinch of sweetness to a black lace blouse or freshen up a close-fitting spaghetti strap camisole. Or try it as a fun, fashionable alternative to a traditional scarf (though that’ll only work if your winters are more San Franciscan than Buffalonian).

Action Shot:

Photo by: Eye of Ra

I have made previous mention of indulging in mainstream fashion magazines on a rather regular basis. It’s no secret to consumers of women’s interest periodicals the content has the tendency to recycle itself fairly often. Statistically, there’s a very high probability of animal print being showcased in some form just about every year. Fishnet tends to make the rounds more infrequently, but it is known to make cyclical guest appearances every few seasons in fall fashion issues.

Let me note how much I do so love the borderline Puritan styling advice which usully accompanies either leopard print or fishnet (most glossy women’s rags hold the conviction only a lady who gets paid-by-the hour would dare to wear the two together) in the spreads featuring them. It’s always “For a classy take on this vixen staple, pair beige fishnets with long pants, leaving just a tiny flash of ‘netted ankle exposed” (thought this is fine advice for the corporate environment, but no fun for real life), “Fishnets and pumps are a surefire way to get mistaken for a streetwalker” and “To tone down the trampiness of leopard; limit the print to a sassy scarf or wild wrist candy coupled with understated separates in a neutral color palette”. I find it thoroughly hilarious.

I for one delight in the notion of taking trashy to the next level in my Lip Service Hosiery Leopard Fishnet Tights. Might even go the extra mile and don ‘em with my Trash Mini Skirt with Side Lacing and leopard print underbust corset. Rumor has it we tacky tramps have more fun ;)

I’m not going to tell you how incredibly exquisite the Blacklist Princess Tears Longsleeved Blouse is, because you can see it for yourself. What I will tell you is I spent an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to properly categorize the sleeves as either Juliet or Leg o’ Mutton. After my research left me with inconclusive data and a question still unanswered, I have determined them to be hybrid Leg o’ Juliet sleeves. Obviously coming up with a new and ridiculous classification used exclusively to identify parts of garments I don’t even own yet is the only way my brain will attain some semblance of peace, thus granting me the ability to successfully move on to other parts of this blog :)

Circuit City Zip Front Hooded Jacket in the black/neon green colorway turns synthesized glamour into an art form. The circuitry’s connotations of exposed android entrails, sexiness through artifice and strategically exposed flesh are all the things which initially attracted me to cybergoth nearly 10 years ago. Before it mutated into a hot rave mess. Personally, I’d forego the mask and goggles.

Will definitely pack this for my annual Kinetik pilgrimage.

Just because you’ve had the misfortune of spotting them on select overdramatic 14-year old Emilie Autumn fangirls (and no, I don’t get the hype around EA either), don’t be so quick to dismiss bloomers as a whole. Let it be known Lolita Candy Elastic Pants with Ribbon Trim in the black/pink colorway make for some seriously yummy sleepwear.

Sharp-peaked shoulder silhouette, epaulets and silver piping give the Das Bunker Cap Sleeve Top in the black/gun metal colorway a decidedly futuristic militant flavor. Matter of fact, I wore it out this past Saturday night and my boyfriend pointed out my shirt was reminiscent of something “space police” would wear. Space police? I’ll RSVP to THAT party :)

I think I’m gonna need a fabulous black military wedge hat with reflective piping accents to complete the outfit.

And this concludes my personal Top 10 of 2010. I don’t know about you, but I’m already itching to see what Spring, Summer, Fall, and Holiday 2011 have to offer!

<3

Vanity Kills

Did you know the new Fall military fetish stylegroup, Das Bunker, was inspired by one of LA’s most popular and long-running clubs?

Check out Das Bunker every Friday night at The Catch One in Los Angeles for three dance floors, three full bars, two lounges and a smoking patio to a soundtrack of everything from Industrial dance and EBM to PowerNoize.

When : Every Friday Night
Time : 10:00 p.m. – 03:00 a.m.
Where : The Catch One
4067 W. Pico Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90019

There is something about the coming of fall (AT LAST for we Angelinos), the biting chill in the air, which gets our juices going just thinking about Halloween coming up! Why, oh, why must we be limited to just one day of playing dress-up, I ask! It seems such a shame to limit our want (*hee hee* need) to play with different looks and styles and images to one all-too-brief 24 hour period.

So, I officially declare October in full as honorary Halloween dress-up month. If that’s not quite enough, perhaps we’ll just have to expand out to the rest of the year. Damnit, we all have lots of dressing up to do … so why the hell not!

We have, for some time, really wanted to do a photo feature using Lip Service to capture an intriguing subject. Mind you, we just love us some dress-up, so any excuse to wrap models in some killer gear, we’re probably going to be all over it.

Yes, the urge for a costume-oriented photo shoot was too much to bear. But we didn’t want to do the obvious … that’s just not our style. Then, in our web travels, we came across this iconic photo of Charlotte Rampling and some other images from The Night Porter. Obsession set in.

Some films just stay with you, for good or ill. If you’ve not seen it, The Night Porter is one of those films. To say the theme is dark, the story disturbing, is a massive understatement. Yet, there is a tragic beauty, especially to Charlotte Rampling’s portrayal of Lucia, the former concentration camp survivor suddenly reunited with her former Nazi SS tormenter & sometimes protector. Every now and again, when one deals in vice and the imagery of it, a bit of dark peeks through … urging you to attempt to capture a similarly stark brand of beauty and tragic obsession.

So, my lovely degenerates, that’s what we set out to do.

Then we remembered the new Lip Service Step In Time men’s military pants and suspenders … Hmmm … that would be crazily close to the original image. Add a Cold War era cap we found at our local military surplus augmented with the military shield from the Das Bunker group and the newly-back matte vegi-leather full-length gloves from the Patent Vinyl group, WOW! To dress out our officer, we decided to start out a bit off the original with the Das Bunker men’s shirt … mainly because it’s just too fabulous of a piece of clothing not to use.

We enlisted my fellow Blacklister Forest Nui Cobalt, our resident Lip Service astrologer and über-hot dancer, and her real-life partner in sexy, Pierre Ordinaire, to embody the characters. I must say, we couldn’t have chosen better! Forest has the same delicate beauty as Charlotte Rampling and, Pierre, while not exactly resembling dark brunette Dirk Bogarde, made a gorgeous exemplar of Teutonic handsomeness.

Here are some of the photos from the first set:

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Then, once we got rolling, the riffing which tends to happen when you put together crazy, creative lunatic kind of people kicked in. Pierre happened to have some groovy goggles, so we jumped out to the fire escape of our funkily old building (aiming the studio lights out the windows … gotta love having a MacGyver of a husband as your lighting guy … thanks Jimi!). These shots took on a bit more of a fantastic steampunk feel, so we just kind of went with it and let the images fall where they may, while trying to keep the original mood. Pierre had also found some rare pieces at the military supply, including an old medal and an SS officer’s coat. We couldn’t help bringing those in (some with some vintage Lippy vinyl and others with the Step In Time pants) and even getting a bit … gasp … naughtily fetish.

One disclaimer I feel I should mention: Having Mentioned the SS coat Pierre found at his military store … Ordinarily, I would never (and I mean NEVER) incoporate anything even suggesting Nazi era imagery into any work I do. However, being as this set is an homage to a film which depicts the story of a Nazi SS officer and his prisoner, we all felt it was not inappropriate to include the coat in the photos. If the image is disturbing to anyone, I sincerely apoligize. No offense is intended.

Also, please don’t fret for the lovely Forest. We have gallons of Zesty Mint stage blood on hand so no actual pokey-pokey with pins and NO ASTROLOGERS WERE HARMED IN THE SHOOTING OF THIS PHOTO SET!

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Photo credits:
Models: Forest Nui Cobalt, Pierre Ordinaire
Photography/Post/Make-up: Mich Masoch – CHS Regime
Special thanks for wardrobe: Lip Service
Lighting (and overall good-sportedness): Jimi King – CHS Regime

Do you have a particular character, movie, or maybe graphic novel you’ve brought to life with Lip Service gear? We’d love to see it! Send your photo goodies to the editor or submit through the webzine.

Happy spooky, Lippy Halloween to all you fabulously naughty Fashion Freaks! I’ll be back with the usual brand of silly sinfulness next month … straight from the World Air Sex Championships as they make their way here to Los Angeles!