One look at Craig Green’s A/W 15 collection and you feel the intensity. It’s bold, striking, unapologetic. That’s what stood out most to our Capitol Couture editors, who are naming Craig Green “One to Watch” this year. Green is transforming the way we think about menswear, creating statement pieces that reinvent movement and form.
In collaboration with Nick Knight, the two set out to turn fashion into pure anguish. The result is a breathtaking spectacle that breathes life into Green’s collection: architectural details become limbs, models become warriors vying for territory. Through fashion, they have declared war.
Green’s collection is all about power. Something we could all use at this present moment. Remember: fashion is more than pretty things, it has the ability to instill us with strength and confidence. Something as small as a gold Mockingjay pin can become a symbol for an entire movement. The next time you suit up, think of what empowers you, so you too may venture forth in a blaze of glory.
Request: Being the cousin of Ashton Irwin was exciting, especially when invited to their tour to hang out with his best friends. You found yourself becoming fond of Calum Hood, who finds you annoying from your constant appearance. But what would happen if you stopped giving him that attention?
Word Count: 3k+
A/N: this part is a lil spicy, so im sry if it kills ya heart ! but i swear itll get better, i promise it will ! im so happy you all enjoy it so much, it makes me smile so much! 100 notes please, loves xx
The boys remained silent once you asked about Nia. Michael became more pale than he already is as all the boys were quick to lose their appetites. That made your heart beat go faster. You couldn’t help but feel super nervous over their reactions.
This week’s spectacle over the leadership of the FBI got all the headlines, but there’s always a lot more taking place beneath the surface in the shadowy world of the intelligence community, or “IC.”
Acting FBI Director Andrew McCabe was only one of a full slate of witnesses who appeared Thursday before the Senate Intelligence Committee to discuss the range of worldwide threats arrayed against the United States.
Director of National Intelligence Dan Coats listed item after item in page after page of his opening statement, ranging from the threat of artificially intelligent technologies being compromised by cyberattacks to the danger from counter-space weapons launched against American satellites to the risks involved with the spread of Zika.
“The complexity of the threat environment is ever expanding,” Coats said. “This has challenged the IC to stay ahead of the adversary and it has not been an easy task.”
And there’s more going on in America’s spy agencies beyond the tracking of “threats” or their other tasks overseas. There are important storylines about the way they work inside Washington and even inside the Capitol itself. Here’s a look at some of the biggest.
thanks to @xerxia31 for her awesome betaing skills ;) My friend, I would have
stopped writing long ago if it wasn’t for you.
dandelion-sunset, you know I was frightened by this story - thank you for
pushing me out of my comfort zone :)
- have you seen how gorgeous they are ? this is the incredible, awesome work of @akai-echo who has so much talent, class and skills i’m left speechless every
time she does something for me :)
“It’s going to be a big, big, big day!!” the woman in
front of Peeta giggled, in a bright blue suit and oversized jacket. She
apparently was in charge of communication, but the only things she was communicating
at the moment were headaches and too much perfume. Walking on high heels, her
steps as big as her skirt would allow, she commented on everything they saw.
Even the signs at each one of the crossroads. Or why the trash bins were green.
Peeta followed his co-workers through the maze that
was the Zoo, passing by the big monkeys and some strange birds, until the whole
crew from Capitol TV reached a brick building that stood out in the sea of
green and bamboos, in front of which people wearing zoo uniforms were waiting.
They formed small groups, a mass of brown cargo pants and gray tee-shirts, with
radios clipped to their belts or the big pockets, buzzing periodically.
Was the mockingjay a symbol of the rebellion before Katniss wore the pin in the games?
At first glance, Madge’s visit with Katniss after the reaping seems straightforward, but upon rereading — and knowing the importance of the mockingjay as a symbol of the rebellion — Collins’ description of the “urgency about [Madge’s] tone” feels much more freighted with significance. Also, it would appear that in her choice of words, Collins is signaling to the reader to take note of the pin (which had also appeared in chapter 1): “I hadn’t paid much attention to it before, but now I see it’s a small bird in flight.” (emphasis added)
As the scene unfolds in chapter 3, Madge presses Katniss to take it:
“Here, I’ll put it on your dress, all right?” Madge doesn’t wait for an answer, she just leans in and fixes the bird that my dress. “Promise you’ll wear it to the arena, Katniss?” she asks. “Promise?” [emphasis added]
Why the urgency with Madge pinning the mockingjay on Katniss before she departs for the Capitol? And would Madge have known that the mockingjay had any association with the rebellion after the Dark Days?My feeling is that if Madge knew the mockingjay was associated with the rebellion in any way, in all likelihood, her father would’ve known it too. And if that were the case, Mayor Undersee almost certainly wouldn’t have allowed her to wear the pin on reaping day. (And that would be true even if he were a rebel sympathizer, because Madge wearing the pin could have dangerous repercussions for both of them.)
I just saw that someone had already asked for the number 53, so: 33. The door’s locked. / 59.…or we could make out….
“The door’s locked.” / “…or we could make out…”
“The door’s locked.”
“Of course it is,” Molly
said, throwing her hands in the air. Because obviously someone taped
the hand-written ‘Door locks automatically, use brick!’ sign to it
for shits and giggles.
They cast about the loading dock; the
thief had gone over the chain-link fence.
“Don’t even think it,” Molly
said, looking at Sherlock as he eyed the fence. He could go over
just fine; her, not so much. Maybe if she weren’t wearing a pencil
skirt and kitten heels… "Next time you say ‘dress like an
office lady,’ I’m going to assume you mean Special Forces commando.“
When I saw that @loveinpanem‘s April challenge was focusing on spring, hope, and renewal, I couldn’t resist using the opportunity to post the next chapter to my post-Mockingjay fanfic, Meadow Grows Green. It focuses on those same themes, and I’ve drawn upon my own real-life experiences recovering from grief, trauma, and PTSD to write this. If you’d like to read the first two chapters, they are available on FFN and AO3.
HUGE thanks to @deinde-prandium for cleaning up my mess, and to @bigbigbigday006 for pre-reading and providing advice and insight.
Summary:Putting yourself back together after falling apart is the hardest thing to do. But Katniss has always been a survivor… And maybe now she can even learn how to thrive. Post-Mockingjay, canon compliant, Katniss and Peeta healing and growing back together.
It makes no difference to me that it’s my birthday. As far as I’m concerned, I shouldn’t ever have had one again. I’m not entirely sure I should have had one to begin with. If I hadn’t been born on this day eighteen years ago, how different would things be? I can’t help thinking of all the lives that would still be preserved today. Would Prim still be around? Would she even have been born if I hadn’t, triggering that sequence of events?
Maybe it would have been just as well. Then she never would have had a life to lose in the first place.
The others insist on celebrating my birthday. Well, by that, I mostly mean Greasy Sae. No doubt, she’s acting on orders given to her by Plutarch himself, who probably would have made a nation-wide event of the whole thing if I weren’t so unpopular for ratings right now. No, the Mockingjay who murdered the wrong president is not the right person to be making a fuss over at this point. That’s fine by me. The last thing I want is any more attention.
Which means I take the stuff from last week, before the Reylo shin kick, plus other stuff since then, real quick, cause I gotta get out of here.
No, really, only a few days left in this APT and I haven’t packed up all my trashy paperbacks yet. And I have a lot of ‘em, so many, if Reylo ever happens, I thought about building a wall out of them and crashing through them like the Kool-Aid man, but instead I’d be the wicked Reylo witch.
And if it doesn’t happen, and I’ll be ok cause like the Tarzan Phil Collins song “Reylo, You’ll Be In My Heart […]Now And Forever More,” I thought about throwing my POP Figures over a waterfall, all beauty tragic-like. Either way it’ll be epic.
But I digress again. Too much cold brew, don’t tell Caps.
Ok yes, Vanity, Vanity cover, again:
AHhh: Star Wars Pokemon, I gotta catch ‘em all. And I did, kinda, cause I subscribed to Vanity Fair’s whole 4 cover + poster + years worth of magazine thing. Which, admittedly, is kinda buying all the Pokemon Go goodies instead of running around the mall/park all day.
So beautiful. As someone who lost a parent very young, my heart goes out to Billie, and I’m so glad she has this photo to cherish.
Apparently, Lukey-pooh is cuddly when he’s not grumpy-pants-lets-end-the-Jedi.
The First Order! I’m terrified and fascinated at the same time.
Kylo likes the way he looks. The First Order Men’s Cape Warehouse Guaranteed It. Now they’re on their way to Ulta to get Hux some more pomade. I said hair gel at first and Caps got offended and said Hux is too fancy for gel. Oh sweet posh men.
Captain Phasma is ready for the Hunger Games! We know who Phasma is now. President Snow gave Finnick’s daughter to Snoke as a birthday gift to raise as his own daughter, yup. Snoke adoptive papa to all the First Order babies.
And speaking of the Hunger Games…The Capitol fashion looks great this year. Is that Lady Gaga? No, I’m for real, I thought it was. She should do a SW song with Tony Bennett. We gotta have a ballroom number.
And speaking of Snoke, I hear gold pjs are in this year. I hope it’s not a Hugh Hefner thing. Cause he creeps me out already.
It’s EMO BB! BB-8 has a shadow doppelganger, just like Link! Can we call him Dark BB?
I officially want to start shipping BB-8 and BB-9E. R2 is too old for BB-8…like Edward and Bella…I know R2 dazzles people and everything and glitters in the sunlight, but, no.
Ok, hold up, Rey…girl, I know what you are doing…
Wear the jacket in front of the teacher…don’t get in trouble with the dress code…
Take the jacket off after class to flaunt your figure in front of boys…
In the spring of January 2011, Andrej Pejić took the modeling world by storm. The first model to walk the catwalk in both Jean-Paul Gaultier’s men’s and women’s shows, Pejić’s androgyny lends her a quality rarely found in the world of high fashion. From the runway to the television screen to a music video for the legendary David Bowie, Pejić has made an unique career out of her singular look and extraordinary versatility.
Branching into design territory, Pejić recently collaborated with Sam H Snyder Design to create her first line of jewelry. Self-described as “an amalgamation of Bauhaus and industrial design components,” Sam H Snyder features sleek, clean, chunky jewelry in precious metals with seemingly architectural influences. Featuring precious metals direct from District 2, their collaboration with Pejić remains close to these sensibilities yet seamlessly incorporates organic elements not found in their typical pieces. With Pejić’s collection including rings, bracelets and necklaces, we here at Capitol Couture can hardly wait to see what’s next for this budding designer.
Capitol Couture celebrates both Andrej Pejić and Sam H Snyder Designs for their dedication to the united vision of One Panem.
It’s attended by hundreds of thousands of people, and the media seems to ignore it every single year. Or worse, they make it seem like it’s a quaint small gathering. I’ve marched. It’s not. They’ll tell you that it’s heavily attended by pro-choicers, too, and they’re wrong. The year I went I barely counted a dozen counter-protesters.
I stood at the top of Capitol Hill and looked all the way back to the horizon. The street and sidewalks were packed the entire way. Packed with balloons, and signs, and singing, and little old ladies praying, and families and young people from all walks of life.
On Friday there’s going to be a beautiful, peaceful protest against all affronts to human life. And while most people start with abortion, it’s about so much more than that.
Maybe there won’t be a million people yet this year. Maybe there won’t be crude hats and catchy chants. But this is a March for Women, too. This is a march for everyone.
ok i’m going to interpret this as platonic rather than romantic :)
Casca & Cassius: “Are you drunk?”
The plan was going relatively well, Cassius mused. Almost all the conspirators were here, on the street before the Capitol, looking more-or-less inconspicuous. The group had gotten few odd looks or stares, and fortunately no one knew about their plot—
“And we’re all gonna stab Caesar, and it’s going to be absolutely fantastic—”
Cassius whipped around, heartbeat suddenly racing faster than its previous quick pace. Casca was leaning on a statue, chatting with some random guy—who looked absolutely terrified. Wasn’t his name Artemidorus? Cassius didn’t remember, and frankly didn’t care at this moment.
“What the hell are you doing, Casca?” he hissed, pulling Casca to the side.
“Just talking to my ol’ buddy,” Casca slurred, much too loudly, nodding to the wide-eyed Artemidorus.
A thought suddenly crossed Cassius’ mind, and he buried his face in his hands. “Are you drunk, Casca?”
“No!” replied Casca, indignant.
“I think you are.” Cassius put on the best fake smile he had, and turned to Artemidorus, who was, at this point, inching away from the group of conspirators. “I’m sorry. Casca isn’t in his right mind at all right now. We’re not planning on doing anything. Just hanging out here. Hahah. Gonna be great. Go away now.”
Get ready for a trip into space, Capitol fashionistas. Daphne Guinness, who you may remember from our gauntlet article in our last issue, has expanded her artistic horizons from the realm of designing to the world of records. In her first elaborate music video, Evening in Space, Guinness takes her audience on a truly interstellar journey simply littered with haute couture fashion.
Among the featured designers in Guinness’ organized cacophony of color: celebrated structural master Iris Van Herpen and multimedia artist and designer Noritaka Tatehana. Directed by renown photographer David LaChapelle and featuring her original track produced by the lauded Tony Visconti, Guinness’ first foray into music videos will no doubt make an impact all over the Capitol.
Didnt you find weird how after the capitol speech Misha looked up on twitter to quote a tweet including her speech then she quoted it too? She probably called Misha to promote her speech on twitter bc she is such a spineless person
I found that entire day to be incredibly weird, nonnie. At first I thought it was strange Misha only congratulated Cortese, but then I figured it was because he’ closer to her these days because of his charity.
“(Y/n), someone just sat at table five,” your older coworker, Mary, says. “And he looks like he’s not very bad looking.”
Rolling your eyes, you continue to wash down the counter. “If he’s so good looking, why don’t you go say Hi instead of trying to set me up with everyone who comes in here?”
The woman only smiles, walking away with her long, graying brown hair swishing behind her. You’ve known her for about a year now, ever since you started working at this diner. After you graduated from Georgetown, you’ve lived around the DC area. You had a nice, stable job, until a couple months ago when Hydra attacked SHIELD, and a piece of one of the helicarriers hit your building.
No more job, no more money, so now you work at a diner and live in a shady apartment building down the street. You’ve been trying to save up enough money to move back into the city and get a better job, but your boss is a jerk and pays you barely anything. There’s nothing you can do but wait for the time to come.
Sighing, you look over to see one person sitting in the far corner of the diner, closest to the door. No one ever comes in this early. But, he is in your zone, so you grab a clipboard and walk out from behind the counter and to the table.
As you walk up, you examine him. He wears a jacket and a glove over only one hand, and he has shoulder-length brown hair that curls a little bit at the end. Broad shoulders lead to a muscular neck, and his face is shielded from your view by a ratty old baseball cap.
Stepping up to the table, you click your pen. “Hi, my name is (y/n), and I’ll be your server this morning.” He looks up at you, and it looks like those bright blue eyes could burn right through you. Damn it, he’s hot. You gulp, trying to keep your composure. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“Uh, just water, thanks,” he replies, looking down at the table again. His voice is deep, and as you walk away to get his drink, you’re smiling the whole way.
You come back with his water and set it on the table, noticing that he’s still looking at the menu. “Ready to order?”
He looks up at you before frowning adorably and looking down again. “Can I have the chocolate chip pancakes?”
Smiling a bit, you write down his order. “Would you like a side of eggs with that?”
“Alright,” you say, putting your pen through the bun in your hair. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you,” he replies, smiling softly at you.
Nodding at him, you walk away, blushing as a giddy smile appears on your face. When you make it to the kitchen, you lean against the wall as the swinging door closes behind you.
You finally notice Mary standing against the wall next to you, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Bad looking?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, blushing as you go to put his order in with George.
It’s been about three months since Bucky first came into the diner, and he’s come in every day since. Except for yesterday. Or today.
Or any other day this week.
And you hate to admit it, but you’re sad about it. You and him had gotten close, with you sometimes sitting with him while he ate his pancakes. Then you just had to ask the deadly question.
“How did you get your metal arm?”
He had gone silent, taking another bite of his breakfast as his eyes disappeared beneath the lid of his hat, and he played with the glove on his hand carefully. Only a week before, he had told you of his past as a Howling Commando and as the Winter Soldier.
At first, you were angry. You ignored him, skipping your shift and working a later one until he shows up at that shift with flowers and an explanation. Of course, you had heard him out, and he told you everything except for the details.
And you screwed that trust up by asking that stupid question.
Immediately you knew it wasn’t anything he wanted to answer. You leaned forward, about to say sorry, when Mary called you to attend to a table of people that just walked in. After you took the table’s order, you looked over and noticed Bucky was gone.
So yeah, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him, and you’re upset. The 5:30 am shift is customer-less once again. Today, you sit at the counter, gloomily scrolling through tumblr on your phone as the April rains outside pound down on the nation’s capitol.
You look up from your phone at the sound of the little bell on the door tinkling. Bucky rushes inside with a blonde man right behind them, both of them soaking wet and laughing their asses off. You can’t help but smile at the sight of Bucky smiling freely. It rarely ever happens.
After a little while, he turns to you, brushing his long hair out of his face as he smiles. “Hey, (y/n).”
You smirk. “Need a towel?” you ask, gesturing to the puddles that are slowly forming on the floor beneath the two large men.
He nods, and the blonde smiles at you as you rush into the kitchen to get one of Mary’s towels. She refused to buy dish towels for the store (because your boss refused to), so she brought her bath towels from her small apartment. Grabbing two, you walk back into the main part of the restaurant to see the two are still standing by Bucky’s usual booth.
“We didn’t want to get the seats wet,” Bucky explains, taking the towels from you and handing one to his friend.
“Who’s this?” you ask.
The blonde extends his hand. “Steve Rogers.” You shake his hand as he continues, “You must be (y/n).”
You blush and look at Bucky. “You told Captain America about me?”
Bucky smiles. “Well, he is my best friend.”
Smiling, you click your pen and look at Steve as he sits down. You place a menu in front of him. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“Just water, thanks.”
You nod and look at Bucky. “Usual?”
Walking away, you see Mary in the kitchen, looking at the two men with her mouth agape. “Your boyfriend’s friends with Captain America?”
“He’s not my boyfriend,” you protest as you fill their drinks, but you feel a blush dust over your cheeks anyway. You wish he was your boyfriend.
“By the way he stared at you as you came in here, he will be soon.” Maria smirks.
You blush, trying to glare at her, but failing. Instead, you walk out of the kitchen with her laughter sounding behind you. Finally getting to the table, you set the two waters down and turn to Steve. “Are you ready to order?”
“Uh, I’ll have the same thing he’s having, thanks.” Steve replies, smiling at you.
You look at Bucky with a question in your eyes. “The usual, thanks, (y/n).”
“Anytime,” you reply, smiling because you already knew that he was going to say that. You pick up Steve’s menu and walk back to the kitchen, stepping through the door and looking over the small counter at the cook, George. “Two of Bucky’s usual, George.”
“Two?” The old, balding man asks, smiling pleasantly. “He must be hungry today.”
You giggle. “No, he has a friend with him.”
George turns to the stove and turns it on before setting a large pan on top. “Jeez, I thought he was the only person other than us that’s up this early.”
“I guess not.”
The two of you converse while he cooks up the eggs and pancakes, you asking about how his grandkids are, and him replying with stories from home. He’s been raising his grandkids ever since SHIELD fell, taking his daughter and her husband with it. So, he dropped his job as a lawyer for a shitty job that pays just enough to get by, just so that he could be home in time to meet Carol and Sarah after school.
Hell, Mark (your boss) only ever pays the rest of you enough to get by.
But George doesn’t care, which makes you happy. His two girls come to the diner every Saturday, playing while the rest of us work. It lifts everyone’s spirits, as the shifts of other employees start and end throughout the day. You, well, you work all day Saturday because Mark’s an ass.
So yeah, the fact that you work seven days a week with one of those days lasting fourteen hours and you get payed jack shit, you kind of care a lot.
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by George setting two plates in front of you. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, George,” you say, smiling as you take the plates. He nods.
Walking back out, you pass Mary from where she’s washing dishes that last night’s shift forgot to do (jerks), and finally get to the main restaurant. You walk to the table, setting the plates down. “Here you go.”
“Thanks,” they say simultaneously before digging into the pancakes. You nod and are about to walk away when Steve says, “Why don’t you join us?”
Medical Marijuana News Minute - Friday January 27th 2017
support us by REBLOGGING our videos
Today it’s all about experts and effect.
We give you the studies and let you decide if they are hazy.
California Connoisseur Cannabis is about to change up the market.
Slightly Stoopid presses a $7,000 hash record to promote their new bubble hash line coming to a dispensary near you soon
Take a moment for yourself and your rights today CALL Your Elected Representatives; Your Congressperson and Your Senator and let them know that you want to #stopsessions and Betsy DeVos before they further deconstruct Life as We Know It in America.
Use these phone numbers to reach your Representatives Directly at the US Capitol 202-224-3121 or 202-456-1111.
Ask for your Senator or Congressman or if you don’t know who they are , Nicely ASK The Operator who answers your call at the capitol to look it up. You can then write down the number before they connect you.
Make sure you call them at your earliest and often moment. Call them when you are walking to the train, when you are standing in line waiting, CALL THEM EVERYDAY AND LET THEM KNOW YOU WANT YOUR VOICE HEARD
Otherwise, We will miss this opportunity to ensure that a hypocrite and racist like Jeff sessions; does not stop the progress of medical marijuana activist from coast to coast
Be sure you come over on the dashboard and holler @thefourtwentytimes your mama because we’ve got more cartridges and strains than you can imagine
Remember we need you to REBLOG this video. Don’t like REBLOG.
FYI, Each time you like it you send it to the bottom of tumblrs queue and that’s not where we need to be
We are here to support you so support us by REBLOGGING our videos every time you see them.
Outfitted in spectacular jet black armor, the Mockingjay looks devastatingly militant as she fashions her familiar game face. Even in his absence, Cinna’s designs continue to inspire and delight us, proving that functional garments can still be fabulous. Insiders say this armor was specially designed to Katniss’ specifications and needs; providing her with protection in the battlefield and style points for public appearances. Capitol Couture gives Katniss’ look an A+ and we are happy to report it is Effie-approved.