I’ve wanted to do this for a while. You know, when I was a kid I would make whole lines of clothing for Yoshi? Female Yoshi, that is. Or “Yoshina” as I’d ingeniously named her. For anybody who’s confused by that, I mean the green dinosaur in Super Mario Brothers. Even then I was mixing worlds! How volatile! How precocious! Dude, I don’t even want to tell you how inane Yoshi looked in a pair of pants.

And look, there’s still no stopping me.

I’ll put up “runway” shots over the rest of the week. I know that Autumn/Winter 2010 is actually last autumn, but I wanted room to do it all over again in a few months time, see.

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At the cabin with my sister, for (in both our cases) a brief vacation. Much extravagant feasting. Injudicious quantities of pastry.

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My birthday is in under two weeks, so I’m more than usually glutted with my various material wants. Most of  them are totally unreasonable (what else is new). Here’s a small selection.

1.
TES V:
My birthday happens to be on the first day of the big, E3 videogame convention. So naturally, I’m hoping they announce the next Elder Scrolls game, as a present just for me. Come on, Bethesda! Happy Birthday Marian!

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2.
Of course, that means I’ll need a new laptop. Which I do in any case, because this one has started to overheat and crash with increasing frequency. It’s only a matter of time before it goes black in the middle of some terrifying late-into-the-night deadline, sending me spiralling into a mortal panic attack.

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3.
I think I must be going a little whoopsy in my old age, because I have an enormous fixation with this skirt. Come on, dude, what’s going on with that? I don’t wear skirts. Those are for girls, who have cooties, and are, like, totally gross. But what can you do, I’ve checked on this every day for the past three months, to make sure my size is still there. I don’t know why, it’s not like I can afford it under any circumstances. But if it sells, man, I will be seriously depressed.

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4.
While I’m asking for impossible things, why not my own cabin? That would be nice. Chop chop, world!

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5.
If I have a cabin, I suppose I’ll need a car. I miss having a car (poor Volpone. Frever sleep). Thinking about it, I don’t know a single comic artist who owns one… not full-time comic artists, at any rate. Hell, most of them can’t even drive, which shows, I guess, an admirable sense of resignation to their likely fate.

6.
And now, since we’re getting really out-of-the-park (cars, yeesh), I’d like to have a shiny with a gift-granting creature trapped in it. I have a preoccupation with the “three wishes” concept. It must be a holdover from my childhood. I think about what I’d do, if faced with three wishes, on an almost daily basis. And actually, even after decades of angsting over it, I still can’t think of an ideal way of handling it. That must be the fascination.

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Now this jacket is seriously impossible, as far as acquisition goes. It’s made by Luxirare, and you can see it here. I find Luxirare to be fascinating. The stuff she makes (food and clothing) is almost always totally perpendicular to my own tastes, which is no impediment to my liking it. Sometimes I like it a lot, and sometimes I don’t. Often I have a strong negative reaction to it, and that’s interesting too.
Anyway, this jacket certainly doesn’t match my usual aesthetic (androgynous and plain in the extreme), but I think it’s very pleasant and wearable, even in its tits-out weirdness. Especially in its tits-out weirdness. Plus, you know. I draw a lot of topless women, so maybe I should put my money where my, uh, tits are.

Back in the city of muffins and endless deadlines.

I keep meaning to do a full inventory of my shiny things, but so far I’ve been too intimidated by the size of the task. Still, I like to gloat about them, so here are a a couple pictures of  some of my favourite ones.

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All I want in life is a larder full of meats and breads and pies, and a hoard full of shiny treasure. I’m at the cabin right now, and this would perhaps be the goblin equivalent.

I mentioned Baguette & Co. yesterday. Here is one of their almond croissants (rather mangled from the long walk home). I’ve never been to France (except to be driven through it briefly on the way to England) so I know that as far as the croissant experience goes, this must be a false ceiling. It is a really, really high false ceiling, though. With antique mouldings and elaborate gilding and frescoes of plump angel babies.

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I have strong feelings about Sandwiches. Pastry items notwithstanding, I consider them to be the perfect food. I mean, ok, I say that about a lot of foods. But they must be the perfect, hmm, composite food? That sounds convincing enough. Anyway, I could eat them every day forever.

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I guess this jacket isn’t actually all that impossible. Only for me, financially. I’m not even positive that I like motorcycle jackets enormously, but this one appeals to me with its quilted bits and less-pointy-than-usual collar. Plus, it’s made by this old, heritage company in England, that does exacting recreations of its vintage stock, made to your measurements and customizable (so for once it would not be too short for me). No fake distressing, or anything like that. Kind of fashionless. Plus, conveniently, I think it has a bit of a space sniper look to it. But then, I would.

The jacket is the “Super Monza“. Meaning that I would have to call mine the Super Monza Fighter II Turbo.

Hermit week is over for now, and as usual I am burdened with absurd and impossible wants. There are certain things, of course, that I want all the time, with a kind of professional efficiency. Like pie. I want pie so much right now, with such well-oiled zeal, that I barely even have to think about it. It’s not that I necessarily want to eat pie, just this second. It’s just always better to have some pie on hand, ready for when I do.

Jackets are another thing I want professionally. They are the most transformative item of clothing, maybe. They are like armour. And actually, this one also is armour. And I want it – did I mention?
And this isn’t one of those fantasyish things that I’d feel foolish walking around in. I think it would look damned awesome, and very nearly normal, with a t-shirt and jeans. Am I going batty? I don’t think I am.

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I’ve decided that I want a big, fat-marbled fantasy ham – the sort that hangs from the ceiling looking rustic. God, that would be the greatest thing ever. It would go something like this: 
“Would I like some ham, now? Yes, I think I would. Oh hey, look over there! A big wad of ham from which I may cleave many meaty wodges!”

I never buy meat, see. It’s too expensive, and I don’t know how to cook it. Mostly this doesn’t bother me, as I grew up eating 15 oz of steak every evening, cooked rare enough to kill anyone who hasn’t been carefully conditioned to withstand all varieties of probable bacteria. The bloom is off the rose. But not today. Today I want HAM. And perhaps an entire goblin larder to go with it.

Non-stop rain.

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Haven’t we all wondered what Final Fantasy Tactics job class we would be? I suppose I’d have to say thief, for myself (though my charm would suck). Thieves are rather weak, which is a shame, but then I can’t bench press anything larger than a medium-sized root vegetable, either. 
Shall we think up some thiefy outfits? Yes, let’s.

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