Beauté Naturelle

Few routines are more pleasurable to the lady of elegance than her toilette. Yes, we may be free from the constraints of corsets, but no true femme fatale can resist the luscious luxury of plum colored lip stick or a sweet dab of Chanel no. 5.

While genetics have been nothing but a friend to Fuschia and me, it is no secret that beauty must be harvested, well kept, for the artistry of a perfectly symmetrical face or hourglass figure to truly shine. Yes, my boudoir may be lined with bottles of RéVive Peau Magnifique and Kérastase Chronologiste, but there is also something to be said for natural remedies. For if mother earth can maintain the magnificence of her oceans and trees, certainly she can aid in the preservation of a beautiful face.

Ideas for the practice of Beauté Naturelle:

Egg white and crushed glass face mask: Subdue your skin into glowing clarity with this simple recipe. Separate two cage free egg whites in a bowl and mix with two tablespoons of Greek yogurt. Select an unwanted glass from you cupboard and smash it in your mortar and pestle. Grind into a fine powder before mixing with egg white and yogurt. Rub into face and let sit for at least two hours before washing off with ice cold filtered spring water.

Daphne flower and blueberry lip stain: Lip stick often wears off, but this stain will keep your mouth coloured until dawn of the morning after. Simply combine the buds of several daphne flowers with a handful of bluberries in your mortar and pestle. Crush until the mixture is a deep purple color. Strain out the remains of berries until you are left with only liquid. Apply with a horse hair lip brush. Warning: do not lick your lips at any point when wearing this, Daphne flower poison has often proved fatal.

Aegean Sea moisturizer: While vacationing with an Italian lover last summer in the Cyclades Islands, I learned of the wonders of Aegean sea sand. No mortar and pestle is needed for this, simply collect a handful of wet earth from beneath the waves and rub into your skin. Let the water wash your body clean, lying on the shore under the Grecian sun. The perfect remedy for worn out skin in need of a weekend away.

On Mourning

 The streets of Chicago are rife with the verdant jubilation of St. Patrick's Day. And yet, we are still, gazing at the skyline, our faces wet with tears for Bannow Strand.  

If only...if only we could join them.

The bar at the corner is filled with celebratory voices. Yet we struggle to lift our steins of Clanconnel Brewery's McGrath's Irish Red,  remembering those slain on May 1, 1169.

The screams filling County Wexford. The blood of a child on Diamait MacMurrough's axe. The island shores littered with Cambro-Norman ships.

Is it our inability to make amends with the past that chains us to this feeling of solitude? That severs us from the carousing crowd? Or is it the guilt inside our souls, burrowing deeper and deeper, falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of Bannow Strand into the soil which bore it?

Curating Your Vinyl Collection

Loved Ones, it goes without saying that each and every one of you is as passionate about la musique as Freya and I. Without music, as the Bard once said, mankind would crumple to dust, and birds fall shrieking from the blood-red sky. Though you may grow disheartened with the prevalence of Compact Disques and Portable Media Players, a true audiophile knows that vinyl is the only way to enjoy this art form. Freya and I have a over five thousand records in our humble three-bedroom flat, a collection that not only inspires us with its euphony, but proves useful in every aspect of our daily lives.


Fêtes: While grimy frat boys are “bumping” and “grinding” to the unsophisticated beats of “hip-hop,” your guests are in for a sublime surprise. Get the party started with ebullient favorites Organ Freakout and Disco Noel (feat. Jingle Bell Rock). Warning: keep a Waterford Crystal bowl of rosemary-infused ice on hand to relieve overheated dancers.

Wraps: Records have less than thirty calories apiece, and soften quickly when placed in a 500-degree wood-burning oven.

Knives: Carry a bottle of pepper spray, and you might as well wear a pin pronouncing “GUTTERSNIPE!” Instead, ward off attackers with style by smashing a record over one dainty, pale knee, and using the ensuing shards as knives, miniature axes, or shanks (whichever is most appropriate for the occasion).

Race: Diversify your collection by seeking out an original pressing of Indian Giver, or frolic to the evergreen title track of Stoop Down Baby…Let Your Daddy See. It’s always important to make your Ethnic friends feel at home.

Millinery: Stand out from the blasé hordes by wearing a bare record at a jaunty angle over the forehead. Secure with a hatpin.

The Boudoir: Nothing exudes sensuality and good taste as well as a lady clad only in vinyl. String two of your most expensive records together with twine for a simple yet erotic brassiere.

Making Friends: Record stores are a vital place to see and be seen. Gauge your audience carefully, and browse the sections most calculated to impress. Genres to avoid: country, crunk, “gangsta rap.” Genres to browse: Italo-Disco, ambient minimalism, and lowercase.

Invisibility: While your friends battle each other to find the most obscure records, smile affectionately and let them have their fun. When the dust settles, sashay over to your custom-built wall-to-wall record shelves and pull out an imaginary record. Silence will fall. All eyes will be on you. Hum nonchalantly, place the record on your turntable, and drop the needle. You have become a connoisseur.

The Art of the Party Favour

With winter's end finally emerging on the horizon, spring and the endless dinner parties, weddings and social occasions it brings are beginning to press on the temple of fashionable consciousness. If there's one way to welcome the pleasures of midriff baring dresses and long evenings of golden dusky light, it is by taking off your winter hat and inviting the world into your home with a party. And what, dear readers, is more gracious then thanking your guests by introducing them to the reemergence of a lost tradition while giving them the gift of literal good taste?

Ideas for the perfect party favour:

• Pieces of dried lavender tied with hand dyed thread presented in the operculum of a nautilus shell.
  
• Scraps of oak bark with the recipient's name written on the front in silver chalk. Given in an envelope hand made from metallic origami paper.
• A small glass jar filled with excerpts of essential quotations written in cerulean ink. Hint: the smaller the excerpt, the better. Do not be afraid to challenge your guests with one-word snippets from the wisdom of the ages.
• Pouches of French linen filled with shreds of toasted coconut and gold leaf: the confetti of the aristocracy!
• A bouquet of fallen cat whiskers and baby's breath, fastened with strips of cloth cut from last season's winter coat.
  

Little Luxuries: Crisped Breadcrumbs with a Golden Mustard Smear

Beautiful ones, Freya and I have decided to welcome you to our oasis of understated luxury with a little "excitement of the mouth," as the French are wont to say. Perhaps you're only accustomed to savoring a delicate amuse-bouche at 5-star restaurants, when they emerge--tiny miracles, labors of love--directly from the chef's hands. But what's wrong with recreating a little elegance at home? This tantalizing tidbit is perfect for those days when, weary from endless racks of vintage couture and infinite art gallery openings, you crave a certain relaxation tinged with opulence.

Ingredients:

• High-quality slice of bread
• A good exotic mustard (I adore Bulgarian, Freya prefers Azerbaijani)

Directions:

1. Toast the bread. For richer flavor, use an open fire.
2. Place toasted bread on an attractive plate. Move it around a bit. Listen to the crumbs falling off the bread like little stars.
3. Once the plate is sprinkled with breadcrumbs, remove the toast and throw it away.
4. Dab a dollop of mustard on the edge of the plate. Pay attention to the symmetry of the dish. Does the end result sing? If not, break the dish in two and start over again.

Curl up in front of a roaring fire and savor the interplay of flavor and texture. Enjoy with a glass of Chateau Margaux 1995.

Welcome...and a little backstory.

Welcome to Fake Fashun, a retreat from the banal, noisy, oft overcrowded existence of urbania. Started by two young, aesthetically-minded denizens of the windy city, we seek to provide solace for the hip. The young. The wandering. Those moved to tears by the sight of a simple plate of radishes. Those overcome with grief at the vision of an abandoned feather falling slowly to the pavement. Those who lose breath at the sound of a lone keening violin playing nearly out of tune.

We are Fuschia and Freya, your guides into the lost art of living. Sartorial advice for the fashionably inclined. Unique recipes for the discerning palate. Up to the minute commentary on the current events shaping our metropolis...and our terrene.

Born on separate ends of the globe, we first crossed paths while studying abroad at the Sorbonne in Paris. Instantly linked by our intuitive longing for artistry, together we explored the hidden corners of the City of Lights.  Back in the states, Fuschia completed a Masters in Interior Space at NYDW while Freya took an academic hiatus to find herself in the wilds of Burr Ridge, IL. Today, we inhabit a small three bedroom loft in Chicago's own Ukrainian Village. Our days are spent shopping for indigenous folk art, urban textiles, and upcycled fedoras.

Sit back. Mix yourself a Morning Glory Fizz (scotch, lemon juice, simple syrup, a dash of Peychaud's bitters, an egg white, and an absinthe rinse).

Join us.