Let's try something a little different!

Okay, let's try this.  I wanted to do something picture-heavy and topical today, but I'm not in the mood to code a Treasury Wednesday (on Friday), so let's play clothing-and-jewelry pairings.  I don't get to do this much in real life, since I'm the youngest of my coworkers in a fairly conservative area, so virtual dress-up it is.

For the pretty base pieces in this post, I'm using Maxi dresses from Goddiva.  Just in the interests of disclosure.

Let's start with this little mesh-insert number, which -- yes -- is sort of daring for many people, but could easily go sci-fi (Inara cosplay, anyone?) to pull it off:



It's actually transparent, not silver; that's the mannequin.  Which leaves us with any metal option we desire.  How shall we make this fantastic?  I'm thinking with a big steampunk statement necklace like this one:


Sorry, sold to a pretty lady at Upstate Steampunk!

And maybe a jeweled belt, like this nice vintage example, which would suit either the teal or the red version of the dress and, in either case, introduces another high-contrast color that would be fantastic in a draped shawl, or as earrings:

Available here from Nana's Cottage House Antiques.

Instant sleek space-opera sci-fi -- or maybe even bustle it up over a constrast underskirt and see what happens.

Less costume and more couture, you say?  Fine.  Look at this peacock-patterned garment:



You could actually wear this under a waist-length leather jacket and calf-high boots, and have a bit more of a casual-elegant look on a spring day.  Try it with a necklace that adds more visual weight to the top half of the ensemble. For this purpose, I can't decide if I prefer the knotted linen from Grey Heart of Stone on the top or the repurposed bridle rosette from Funkyjunkmama below:



Probably the bridle rosette.  It picks up the colors attractively without blending in, and has a sturdier, heavier look that will contrast well with the dress's airiness.  Hey, both!  No?

On warmer days, this dress of course demands a light shrug and a cool big bracelet like this one:


Available here with matching earrings here.

Belatedly ...

... I really should mention that the Southern steampunk cons, Upstate Steampunk and AnachroCon, are well worth the trip.  I was a vendor at Upstate Steampunk at the beginning of the month.  It was a delight to meet so many fans of such vastly varying ages -- including many of my and M's colleagues, hers at Clemson and mine at the tech college!  This included Gypsey Teague, a lovely lady who makes killer chainmaille weaponry and who organizes the event with her partner.  Overall, the con was small but profitable and with superb gaming, and despite a giggling militant vegetarian who thought she was a pagan but didn't know what a solstice was at the next vendor table, I was delighted to meet a number of other vendors of clothing, jewelry, embroidery, fine art, etc. who were simply a pleasure.

I also had the great fortune of seeing some delightfully colorful steampunk outfits, including a young authoress who had assembled a brilliant bustled tatterpunk outfit in animal print.  It worked beautifully.

M and I did some fun multicultural stuff, including (for me) a Scottish-inspired pseudo-military ensemble with a vintage woman's kilt, a wool beret, and rendundant eyewear; and (for both of us) Anglicized/Orientalized North African outfits.  Me as warrior, M as harem girl.  She pulled it off with her usual aplomb.

Please, Southern steampunks: plan for AnachroCon in Atlanta at the end of winter and Upstate Steampunk next fall.  I can staunchly assure you that you won't regret it.


Available here.

A linklist, which should really be one word

... this spammy blog (is there a term for this?) uses an article I found while trying to discover M's Ratemyprofessor rating, and it is just about the funniest damn thing I've ever seen.  M and I did dramatic readings to each other.

Is this a thing now?  Seriously someone -- is this a thing?

On a more relevant-to-anything note, here are two of the many cool things I've turned up while doing the copywriting for this lovely site, Keys of Paradise:

This mellifluously written essay on musk is fascinating, informative, and a truly beautiful piece of online writing which is a superb example of structuring lengthy content for the Internet reader.

There is an loa in the Voodoo tradition who protects abused women and lesbians, hopefully not always in combination: Erzulie Dantor.

And everything I ever wanted to know about alchemy can be learned from these sites: Alchemy-Works, which does sell some of its products but is more valuable for its wealth of information, and <"http://www.alchemylab.com/guideto.htm">a page on which I have wasted hours which  gives the alchemical properties of hundreds and hundreds of ordinary foodstuffs.

On a vaguely related note, many props to the makers of the Mystery Case Files games, available from Big Fish Games and on disk at many fine department stores.  They're a combination of hidden-object with item-adventure games; they capture the essence of the greatest old-style text adventures in their snarky humor, intertextual references, and complex plotlines, but are also absolutely state of the art in graphic rendering and in the incorporation of live-action film with digital art scenes.  They have a smoother and more graceful user experience than their imitators as well.  And, as I was playing the latest entry, "13th Skull," between pages of my novel-sized list of item descriptions, I realized they also apparently have a really excellent cultural consultant.

"13th Skull" has a few problems in terms of atmosphere, notably the fact that while the previous games, "Return to Ravenhearst" and "Dire Grove," had an engaging and incredibly atmospheric creepiness, this one had sort of a hokey Scooby-Doo ghost feel.  I'm quite willing to believe that this was deliberate (M was not so kind about it), but it's a little startling -- perhaps it's the lack of a well-developed and sympathetic victim to save.  Or the fact that there are about four actual Southerners voicing the Louisiana residents.  Anyway, the point is, despite the oddly built atmosphere, every depiction of voodoo and hoodoo spells is, as far as I can tell in my admittedly amateur experience, perfectly accurate.  Right on!

Crap, this post has no subject.  Unrelated photo time!


Available here.

A Review of Pottermore by Someone Unaffiliated with Sony

So, as longtime readers have certainly grasped by now, I have something of a love for Harry Potter.  I spoke on gendered intepretations of the broomstick as symbol in modern literature at the 2009 convention; here's some of the massive amount of Potter-inspired jewelry I've made (please excuse the older photos):





So it will surprise no one that M and I were among those who fought for a place in the beta for Pottermore, which is supposed to be an interactive companion to the books containing more information about minor characters, ghost plots, and other things that weren't told in detail within the scope of the series.

Overall, we've found it interesting but disappointing.  Most of the problem is in the advertising.  There was a massive amount of hype for this -- website countdowns, early announcements, competitions for early-admission spots -- and it was not made entirely clear whether this was a game, or a bunch of illustrations, or an interactive ebook ... or what.

It's set up like a collection of illustrations tied to a social-media game.  There are quizzes to take and House points to earn, and there are some little side games, like potion-brewing and spellcasting.  However, the actual game bits tend to be buggy and unresponsive, partly because the servers clearly weren't ready when early registration was first opened and partly because, well, it's in beta.  But ... there's nowhere to give specific feedback.  There's a generalized feedback form that asks you to give a one-to-four rating of how it works, how it looks, and "how you're liking Pottermore so far," but no way to say "When you try to make the Herbicide Potion, the worm mucus isn't clickable; you just pick up the Valerian if you try."  Which you'd think would be the important thing about doing a beta run.  It's starting to feel like all they really wanted was a demographic survey.

The ... I don't even know what to call it, because it's not a game or an ebook or anything really ... Pottermore is unquestionably beautiful.  Each chapter of the book has two or three corresponding "moments" you can access through the ... here we go again ... through Pottermore, and each "moment" has a multi-layered artwork.  Chapter thirteen, the one with Norbert the dragon in it, is absolutely breathtaking. 

And yet there's nothing to do.  You get to collect books and objects throughout the scenes (though in the really lovely chapter, there's not a damn thing to pick up ... and you still end up having to look), but there's no competitive aspect -- it doesn't really penalize you for not finding the jellybeans on the train -- and there's no reward for finding everything.  A few things, when you click on them, will unlock interesting extra information that's been written for the ... for Pottermore.  For instance, there's an entire biography of Professor McGonagall that you pick up over the course of the story, a few paragraphs for every chapter in which she appears.  This is quite worthwhile for people who enjoy the series.  There's not a lot of information -- there's a lot less than the advertising suggested there would be -- but it's worth playing through for it.

Yet the social-media aspect of the ... thing ... seems to imply that it was imagined that people would sink time and effort into Pottermore.  Would return daily to try to earn House points.  But the part that was hyped, the companion to the books, takes less than a day to "play" or "read" or "work" through per book.  And here's the rub -- the books open one at a time.

At this point, the only thing I'm returning daily to do is to check whether the next book has opened up.  Sometimes I try to make a potion, but the timing on this requires you to either find 90 minutes of stuff to do in Pottermore (difficult) or set a real-world timer (I'm resisting the nerdiness).  As of the end of August, it was still only the first book.  With overall opening slated for October, I'm not sure how they're planning to beta later book-companions at this point -- there's just no time. 

The material shows a lot of promise, but Pottermore can't decide what it is.  This cripples the game because it cannot meet the expectations raised by marketing, weakens the storytelling because the different aspects seem to have been developed at the expense of one another, and distracts from the companion information because the reader is treacherously wondering, "This is all?"

Pottermore could have been a great advance either in interactive reading, or in book-related gaming, but it tried to be both and therefore is neither.  It tried to be something new so hard that it isn't anything.  It has potential as a stepping stone, and it's still worth playing/reading/social media-ing/whatever, but don't expect your mind to be blown.

What I Did On My Summer Vacation

We're a little ways back into the year now -- and incidentally, this is the part I dislike, because no one has papers yet so there are almost no students, except for the panicked older students who are expected to use technology, but aren't being taught to use it.  The other day, M and I worked with a very nice gentleman.  She taught him to make capital letters on the computer.  I taught him how a printer works.  She taught him to use the mouse.

There is a lengthy diatribe on educational priorities in here somewhere, but I will limit myself: Did it ever occur to anyone to maybe require a computer-usage placement test?  It's seemed to me since high school, when I volunteered to drive some of my friends home after they missed the bus staying late in the computer lab, that the requirement of technology usage reinforces class distinctions in educational opportunity.  Clemson University requires that every student own a laptop -- and in my current still-a-bit-under-the-weather state I can't decipher whether this fixes or exacerbates the problem.

Anyway.

We've gotten started now, but before we did, M and I went to spend a couple of days in Asheville, North Carolina, where O. Henry lived for a while.  We went on the first day to Biltmore, the Vanderbilt family's estate.  After looking at the website, I came away with the impression that it was where rich people go to buy expensive branded wines and jellies and be rich together, but M's grandmother was kind enough to give us tickets and it was absolutely and completely worth the trip.

I've been to California's Hearst Castle, which is a melange of stuff imported over the Atlantic to build a fantasy Mediterranean village -- the architect called the style of that place something like "Franco-Anglo-Arabesque-Mediterranea-Japano-Rusko-screw-the-look-whatever-my-client-wants architecture."  Biltmore was a useful companion, since it is also a very Victorian-American estate -- appropriated spoils of empire and of education, combining in a large, somewhat asymmetrical cathedral-inspired house on top of a hill -- but Biltmore is much better-designed, and you can see how people would have flowed through it, both the guests and the downstairs class.  It's useful to see how the estate would harmoniously operate.

Also, some very inspiring wallpaper-decor combinations, including some beautiful examples of using rich jewel tones to make the very Victorian damask and tapestry feel masculine -- I'd give a photo, but they apparently never release them, contributing to my previous impression that it was a fancified wealth getaway -- and some wonderful 1890s-1900s clothing was on display, including a probably Worth-inspired gown and several pieces with delightful nostalgic touches that made my inner costumer dance.

Also, this fountain:


This view of the gardens (August is not a good time for gardens in the Carolinas, but these still looked pretty good):


And this carved marble pillar from the outside, which I'd love to "translate" into a jewelry design, somehow:


As for dining in town: The Jerusalem Garden Cafe is out of this world.  We ate there the first night and went back the second.  Try their curried mango shrimp -- it's delicate and warm, not spicy, and is served over perfect couscous.  It's atmospheric and lovely, especially the floor seating, and the servers are wonderfully attentive.  Asheville's more famous Tupelo Honey Cafe, however, was terrible and not worth the wait.  M's meal, the shrimp and grits, was drenched in hot sauce (not listed on the menu) and too spicy to eat; when we remarked on it, the server suggested stirring it around a bit.  Mine was a fried chicken something-or-other and was too salty to have more than a few bites.  However, if you still want to go, the peach rosemary lemonade is delicious.

Asheville can be described like this:  If you took a mellower version of the free-spiritedness and general artsy insanity of San Francisco and fused it with the prissy exclusivity of San Diego, their hipster love child would be Asheville (two silent E's.  And it went to North Carolina.  You've probably never heard of it).  The shopping is delightful -- don't miss the Spice and Tea Exchange, where they sell ras el hanout with black pepper and hibiscus flowers, and also onion-infused sugar and powdered extract of burgundy wine.  Malaprop's Bookstore is also a must-do -- we shopped a while and then sat drinking their amazing ginger lattes for hours.  And Woolworth Walk is not to be missed -- yes, there are all kinds of little art studios down by the river, but they were like an IRL Etsy, so you might as well visit through a screen -- and also overpriced and of questionable quality.  Woolworth Walk is right in town and features some truly amazing art -- pottery, installments, and traditional.  We purchased, or rather my parents purchased us through the magic of plastic and our birthdays coming up, a piece by Brenda Marks.  It's a three-dimensional giclee over wood rendition of her photo collage "Serenity."  Here's a picture of it on our wall, but visit her site because our lighting does it no justice:


Doesn't the dark luminous aqua balance the red so very eye-catchingly?  Stunning.