As I embark upon The Seven Days of Samhain this Sunday afternoon by feasting upon Interview With The Vampire: The Vampire Chronicles (“feasting” being the emphatic word in this statement, as a feast for the eyes it certainly is), I would like to take a brief moment of your time to celebrate the fact that this is my vegetarianniversary. Yes, today marks a whole SEVEN MONTHS meat-free for Niamhy! CAN I GET A FANFARE PLEASE?!
(What are you saying? Of course the obligatory image of Brad Pitt and Kirsten Dunst being absolute undead babes was necessary!)
Okay, I’ll admit, the whole “seven months” thing may be a bit of an anti-climax; I am well aware that there are die-hard vegans of 100 years out there snorting and sighing and shunning me for not being a “true” animal rights activist. But I feel that this is an accomplishment that I deserve to celebrate. Despite all the disapproving glares of the endless reams of doctors and dietitians I have seen over the past few months, I have stood my ground and fought for my right to be a vegetarian and this anniversary stands testament to the fact that I have proved myself and this is not simply the eating disorder talking: this is a passion.
So I would like to seize this opportunity to give a massive shout-out to all the calves, piglets, ducklings, lambs, chicks and fishies who have been been given the chance to exist through my simply having chosen to enjoy a herbivorous lifestyle. I hope your lives have been beautiful. You deserve it.
I would also like to thank:
My parents, for funding a completely organic lifestyle and having to reorganise the kitchen cabinets to accommodate a coeliac vegetarian;
My brother, for embarking upon this journey of meat-free living with me, “simply for the craic”;
This glorious man, for being the final nail in the coffin. Morrissey, you were the one who convinced my mother on March 24th 2015 that all my pleas over the years to pursue a vegetarian lifestyle were not unfounded. Your shocking video in Belfast’s Odyssey Arena (or should I say “fancy shmancy SSE Arena” now?) that night did its job. For this and so much more, I am eternally grateful (you have been warned, there is some quite explicit content to follow)…
I promised short and sweet, so short and sweet it will be. I leave you with one last image. Enjoy!
As an eternal singleton, I thought, “What better way to celebrate Valentine’s Day on my little bloggy-wog than to do what I do best…and create a list of my tippy-toppy heartthrobs?” And I mean all of them. The weird AND the wonderful. EVERY. LAST. ONE. There are no secrets over here. Let the fun begin…
NB-I am going to try my best not to include any of the glorious males featured in my best dressed men post from a few weeks back. But that might be very difficult to me. So I shan’t make any promises.
THE CONVENTIONAL
1) Dan Smith
If some miracle-worker approached me tomorrow and told me that I could choose one celebrity to carry around in my pocket for the rest of my life, this fella here would be number one choice, no questions asked. It would seem he’s just about the only person who is as obsessed with Twin Peaks is I am. And that’s gotta count for something, right? Plus he’s as cute as a button. There are no flaws here. None whatsoever. Oh, and did I mention he has the voice of a heavenly angel? I should also probably note I have been to every gig he’s ever performed in Belfast. Me? An obsessed fan? Never.
2) James McAvoy
I’ve been infatuated with this guy since the moment I laid eyes on his hairy hooves in The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Ten years later and not much has changed; he’s still as gorgeous and I’m still as infatuated. Ladies and gentlemen, the one and only James McAvoy: my first celebrity obsession. And it got me bad. It really did. Sigh…the memories…sweet, sweet youth…
3) Alex Turner
The ‘bad boy’ persona. The arrogance. The cheekiness. The accent. And those heartwrenching lyrics. These are the qualities that make up the man responsible for composing the soundtrack of my heartbreak, the painfully alluring Alex Turner. My dreams came true last summer when I finally had the opportunity to witness this glorious specimen perform live and…well…let’s just say it certainly was an intense experience. And now for the song which defined my late teenage years…
4) Eddie Redmayne
Hey, I did say I wasn’t making any promises! And how could I possibly exclude the man of the moment, the delightful Mr. Redmayne? JUST LOOK AT THOSE FRECKLES. I couldn’t resist. I simply couldn’t. My love is eternal.
5) James Blake
I would like to take this opportunity to apologise to anyone who has ever been subjected to my hyperactive babbling about how much I…ahem…appreciate this man and his music. I would like to apologise in particular to anyone has ever been subject to a detailed description in regards to one particular song of his. But really, Blakey, are you trying to kill me with this? Are you actually trying to kill me? (For anyone, James Blake’s I Am Sold is my favourite song in the history of the world and I am obsessed with it and I listen to it on loop like constantly but I mean, it is actually the most stunningly magnificent song ever written, like what is there not to love?)
THE UNCONVENTIONAL
1) Steven Patrick Morrissey
No surprises here then, am I right? Okey dokey. Moving swiftly on…
2) David Lynch
When I grow up, I want to be just like David Lynch. Scrap that; when I grow up, I want to BE David Lynch. Except female. I am completely and utterly in love with this absolute genius’ beautifully disturbing mind. Plus we share the same birthday. Obviously January 20th is the day for birthing creative excellence.
3) WB Yeats
A mermaid found a swimming lad, picked him for her own, pressed her body to his body, laughed; and plunging down forgot in cruel happiness that even lovers drown. Need I elaborate?
THE FICTIONAL
1) Special Agent Dale Cooper
I too like Audrey Horne have a dream whereby a tall, dark and handsome stranger falls madly in love with me and takes me away to a life of mystery and international intrigue. It would seem that Agent Cooper’s only problem is that, in the immortal words of Audrey Horne once more, he simply is “too perfect”. I completely identify with my beloved Audrey because I am also totally besotted with My Special Agent. It certainly is wonderful and strange.
2) Dimitri from Anastasia (1997)
I understand how completely deranged this may seem but in my defence Dimitri was EXTREMELY well animated! Plus John Cusack’s voice is a major winner. So can you blame the four year old me for falling in love with this cartoon character after watching him teach Anastasia how to waltz? I maintain to this very day that good ol’ Dimitri is the reason I continue to have issues in the love department. He set my expectations at too great a level. The bar was raised far too high. I am destined for failure.
3) Duckie
TEAM DUCKIE ‘TIL I DIE. I highly doubt I will ever be able to forgive Andie for choosing Blaine over him. He lived to like her. He would’ve DIED for her. C’mon Andie, couldn’t you have just tried a little tenderness?
4) Fox Mulder
It would seem that I certainly have a ‘thing’ for fictional FBI agents. Seriously though, there is nothing more attractive than a man with a passion. Especially a passion for the extra-terrestrial. Add to that a strangely therapeutic monotonous drone of a speaking voice and a wicked collection of trench coats, and you’ve got Fox Mulder. What a droll cat he is.
I guess it’s time I gave up my chitter-chatter before I get too boisterous and bubbly and say something I will undoubtedly regret in the morning. But before I depart, I would like to leave you with a gloriously Gothic ballad of love on this Valentine’s Day. To all those in love, out of love, experiencing unrequited love or blissfully content whether part of a pair or riding solo, I wish you a happy Valentine’s weekend!
The moment I birthed this baby of mine (I’m speaking of this blog, obviously), I have been dying to write a blog post about Wonderland LA. Numerous times I have gone to compose an article about this emporium only to come across an insurmountable hurdle; that of the temporary closure of the online store as a result of a mysterious fire in what I may wrongly recall as being the shop stockroom? Or am I confusing this with ASOSgate? Hmmm…
Either way, some brand of incendiary has prohibited me from proceeding with this blog post.
UNTIL NOW.
This store is a treasure trove of dark delights. Stocking men and women’s clothing, accessories, housewares and beauty products (including official High Voltage Tattoo merchandise), all items are sourced and chosen by Kat Von D herself and you can certainly see why! From the disturbing to the beautiful, this shop is the perfect haven for lovers of the Gothic and the unusual. And the prices aren’t too scary either.
The main woman herself…
So, in true High Priestess Fashion style, allow me to outline for you my top picks from the collection which I am desperate to have in my wardrobe and that I think you should be craving too. Who knows, I might even throw in a couple of non-clothing items…gasp…variety is the spice of life after all. The excitement is all too much for me.
If there is one face I want to be walking around wearing on my body, it is David Lynch’s. I positively idolise the guy and everything he lays his distinctive finger upon. Team this tank dress with an oversized plaid shirt, a pair of fishnets and some oxblood Dr. Martens and you are surely onto a casual winner.
I can only assume that wearing this top would feel like bathing your body in a mixture of warm butter and honey. And hello, velvet? Who can say no to a spot of velvet? Dress this up with a high-neck white silk blouse with billowing sleeves and a PVC pencil skirt. Victoriana chic with a modern twist. Bingo.
Always wanted to look like the perfect vamp-ish pinup, but never know how to do it? All you need is this dress. Literally. That is it. This dress could make the most conservative, plainest of Janes look like a provocative queen. I need this ASAP.
This unisex tee is simple but effective. Big ol’ Edgar’s face on the front accompanied by an eye-test of his glorious words on the back. All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream…love, love, love!
The epitome of the ‘killer heel’. These shoes certainly were not made for walking. Strictly car-to-bar stilettos. But what the heck, treat your feet, girl!
This belt is enough to bring tears of joy and amazement to the eyes of any classical music fans. It is literally a masterpiece of true artistry. A work of genius. I can’t believe I never thought of it before. This is the only belt one could ever need. Downright stunning.
These nail rings are the perfect touch of bling. I’ve always wanted to be a vampire princess…and now with these nail rings, I well and truly can! You can tell admirers that those are the blood droplets of your enemies you keep as mementos…just to REALLY creep them out. MWAHAHAHAHA!
Anyone who has ever been lucky enough to enter my family home will vouch for the fact that the females in this household have a mild obsession with candles. And nothing screams ambiance quite like a black pre-dripped candle. If there is one thing I need in my life, it is this candle. Just as long as a virgin doesn’t light it. Wouldn’t want to be summoning any Sanderson Sisters now…or would we?
Last but not least, Wonderland LA is also the main stockist of Kat Von D’s make-up brand, Sephora…but more about that in a blog post in the very near future. For now, it’s an adios from me. And I suppose I better wish you all a happy new year so…happy new year!
A few weeks ago, I embarked upon an aimless pondering upon what were, in my opinion, the ten most perfectly flawless women to ever grace the planet. Well, now it’s time for the opposite sex to get their fair share of the spotlight, as I turn to the ten (of the) most perfectly flawless men to ever grace the planet (70% of whom are or were part of the music scene…okay…maybe 90%).
I must ‘fess up. I have a mild tendency to claim that any attractive male celebrity whom I lay eyes upon is ‘the love of my life’. Thus, this was an extremely difficult task for The High Priestess. Therefore, I came to the conclusion that I would narrow it down to my ten ultimate faves (excluding one…or two…or five…it pays to be ruthless), particularly in the iconic fashion sense. So, without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, My ‘Perfect Ten’: Male Edition!
10) Brian Ferry
The lead singer of Roxy Music, Brian Ferry was and continues to be The King of Smooth. Three words: suave, suave, suave. I mean, this fella is rocking a pair of leather trousers in an image above like no other person ever could. Ross Geller, eat your heart out! And who could possibly forget the iconic baby blue suit, candyfloss pink tie combination from the Jealous Guy video? Fabulous, dahling!
9) Oliver Sim
This man is to blame for my obsession with elbow slits in clothing. Tucking formal peg-leg trousers or hareem pants into long black DMs was never fashionable until Oliver Sim came along. And not only is his style fashion-forward, it is also practical, especially considering the unusual yet hypnotising shapes this guy pulls on stage. Love you long time, Mr. Sim (and Romy…and Jamie…).
8) Kurt Cobain
If Brian Ferry is The King of Smooth, Kurt is most certainly The King of Grunge. With his dirty shoulder-length blond hair, baggy sweaters and jeans that any mother would have thrown in the bin a long time ago, Cobain became the defining image of an era and the mouthpiece for a generation of misunderstood teens. His legacy continues its reign to this very day, with a new age of teens being introduced to his music with every new rising sun, and both men and women citing him as their ultimate style icon.
(This song seriously speaks to me.)
7) Steve Strange
I’m in awe of his eccentricity. In fact, I’m downright envious of it. As the founding father of the ‘Blitz Kids’ scene in London in the 1970s and 1980s (and consequently the New Romantics), we are all eternally indebted to Strange for encouraging androgyny and the wearing of Victoriana attire simply to pop down to the shops.
6) James Quaintance
With the face of a cherub and the body of a rockabilly bad boy, James Quaintance was created to break hearts. A jack of all trades, he is just as comfortable working the runway as he is with the ink and needle or wheeling around Venice Beach on a skateboard. He even dabbles in the music scene. Perfection? I think so.
5) Jeff Buckley
It is no secret that I am madly in love with Jeff Buckley. With a voice as ethereal as a siren’s song (see what I did there?), hauntingly beautiful eyes and a through-other fashion sense, Jeff is the idealistic heartthrob for this lost little Goth girl. The morbid corner of my mind is also sickeningly roped in by the mystery of his eerie death. A conspiracy? We may never know. All I know for certain is this: I LOVE JEFF BUCKLEY.
Effortless. He doesn’t even have to try. How is this possible? How is this real? Ugh.
4) Robert Smith
The crazy-cool lead singer of The Cure is my beauty style icon. I mean, he got the ultimate Gothic make-up look down to a tee. And he is most certainly my hairspray rival. The quest for volume knows no end. I spy with my little eye something beginning with ‘s’…
3) Eddie Redmayne
Okay, so maybe Master Redmayne’s style isn’t exactly iconic…yet. But I simply couldn’t resist. I adore this man. Completely and utterly in love. The hair. The freckles. THAT SMILE. I could look at his face all day. I actually want to look at his face all day. I don’t want to do anything else. It hurts. It hurts so bad. My little heart. Swoon. Hurry up and move on Niamh before you make a fool of yourself…or is it too late?
2) Paul Weller
I have inherited an admiration for this man from a mod revival mother who tried her utmost to replicate his style. But seriously, what is not to love? The Modfather used fashion as a weapon to reel in a generation of unruly teens and taught them with words of rebellion in his new wave anthems. Angry young men looking their finest. And the best part about Paul Weller? HE IS STILL DROP DEAD GORGEOUS TO THIS VERY DAY. He is the perfect embodiment of the ‘fine wine’ comparison.
1) Morrissey
Morrissey is my god. I think we all already know that. Need I say more? He has an effortlessly cool image which just screams, “I know men and women are falling for me and I sincerely couldn’t care less. I hate people. Bring me my cat.” It is he to whom I pay tribute with my characteristic undercut and quiff. Morrissey, how I adore thee. Teach me your ways. And lend me your shirts.
That’s me. I’m done, off to cuddle my teddybears and spend the rest of my life painfully alone because no man will ever live up to my ridiculous expectations, considering my ‘perfect ten’ are well and truly perfect. Sigh. Ah well.
Tonight, it is not I, The High Priestess, who is out dancing the night away…oh no. It is, in fact, MY MOTHER who is out painting the town red, while I sit at home studying. Who knows…maybe in a few hours I’ll find myself being really adventurous. So much so that I might even watch The Polar Express, just to get me into the festive spirit. I am the very definition of ‘wild’.
This week’s Saturday night favourite perfectly captures my sentiments towards this current situation.
No-one does the oh-so-chic exposed-nipple look quite like my dearly beloved Mozza does. Now I’m sorely tempted to accessorize my next outfit with a pocket bouquet. And not one soul on this earth can stop me.
This is the première post of my new project, High Priestess Fashion, and I am your host, Niamh (the High Priestess herself). I promise I don’t bite…I welcome you warmly!
First things first: I have finally found the time to produce this fashion blog baby as a result of my inability to do much else having been struck down by a mystery illness (otherwise known as ‘the flu’). Therefore, the past two days have been spent gathering ideas for this little pretty. Unfortunately, as I sat down to write this first blog post, all of my coherent, logical, brilliant ideas flew out the window with my prospects of a bright future. So instead, enjoy this rather rad rockabilly skeletor couple:
(I guess this is the point when I issue a disclaimer, legally stating that none of the images I use on this site are mine, and that if you do happen to be the owner of any of the images used and wish me to remove them, simply give me a bell. I don’t be wanting no fisticuffs. I’m only 4ft 10.)
Anyway, I suppose I better declare what you should expect from this blog. Well, first and foremost, this is a fashion blog for the stylish people that mainstream fashion shunned. Hold on tight for a raucous ride through fashion’s darkest, murkiest, most antique corners…Gothic, Rockabilly, Steampunk, Grunge, New Romantic…you name it, we’ll explore it!
I should also warn you that there is a massive probability that some of my other absurd fascinations may also make a habit of creeping into blog conversation at seemingly random moments. Like this guy (the ultimate bae):
Or this guy (the role model):
Or most definitely this guy (the icon of my idolatry):
But I hereby swear that no matter where my discussion may wander to, I shall always relate it and return to fashion. Because I am Irish and, therefore, I have an innate ‘Gift of the Gab’. So I can do that. With anything. ANYTHING.
Before I digress any further, I shall make my speedy departure. Thank you for your time, implied listener who may or may not be there, and I hope to speak to you again soon in the foreseeable future (tomorrow, if I am spared). I shall leave you with these words of wisdom from the Princess of Goth herself…
High Priestess Resurrected 