Buffy Wardrobe

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Vampires, being the most popular monster in the horror genre tend to be what a lot of people want to dress up as on Halloween.  Fact is, most people want to dress up and look like there straight out of a movie?  However, looking like a vampire or Gothic freak with movie star quality has been hard to come by until recently.

Not many sites on the web allow you to create a full vampire ensemble all within one place.  Many people look to the web to create an image synergistic with their core beliefs.  There looking for High Quality and cost efficient Vampire gear.  From kids, teenagers to adults, male or female, Gothic, sexy, or a scary vampire costumes.  

Whether you want vampire costumes to dress up for Halloween or your blood craving Gothic creature looking to prey on a night out in the town, vampire gear needs to meet the high demand of the people.  Whether it be vampire contact lenses, vamp fangs, costumes, capes, shoes, Gothic gear, wigs, prosthetics, or medallions.

The high demand may be due to the fact of all the vampire movies and Vampire TV series that have come out in the past few years.  60 vampire movies & series alone have released in the past 2 years, and an estimated 20 more to air within the next year.

And the popular ones that have hit the big screen turning an average everyday human into a wannabe creature of the night are the following -- Underworld, Twilight, Daybreakers, Eclipse, True Blood, & Let the right one in.

And with the advancement of technology, FX, and special effects within the movies and series, this making vampires look more scary & realistic, thus feeding the desire within us to want to dress up as these vampires & favorite actors on Halloween.

Gothic vampires also want to play the role with Gothic clothing, makeup, contact lenses & vampire teeth, and boots within their everyday lifestyle.  

And is it any wonder why this is the case -- throughout history, vampires are known to be mysterious, have supernatural strength, keen senses, and sexual hypnotic beauty.  And to have a life of immortality with all these strengths will turn anyone into a vampire fan.

Modern day vampires are on the rise and looking to feed.  There looking to feed their closets with a trendy, unique, scary, dark, Gothic clothes & Halloween costumes.  Their looking to feed their artistic creativity, wanting to look like a professional vampires from the movies with FX makeup kits, unlike the traditional boring makeup that are sold commercially.

They want high-grade custom fangs that look realistic, unlike the soft rubbery plastic ones that we used to wearing as a kid.  They want the evil-looking piercing eyes that vampires have like the red devilish look of Bram Stoker's Dracula or the chilling light blue contacts of Lestat in Interview with the vampire.

They want the prosthetics to change the mold of their face -- from baby faces into monstrous demonic looking creatures, like "Buffy The Vampire Slayer"

They want shoes that will go along with the look like red & black blood spattered & flamed shoes and high heels.  They want to dress up in a full vampire ensemble with added accessories to complete the look such as medallions, gloves & hats.

The horror genre has always and will always remain popular because of vampires.  From the modern-day New York Gothic vampire to the blood sucking monstrous mythological creature.  Made most popular from film, TV, books, Gothic freaks & Halloween.

Peoples belief in vampires only fuels the legend to continue.  And it us begs us to ask the question.  Are they real?  And whether you believe or not - people will always continue to be on both sides of the coin.  Whether you fear them, or want to play the role as one.  Whether you want to tap into their animalistic nature, or have vampire nightmares.  And whether you want to dress up as one or point the finger at one.

I invite you to check out some of the highest quality and most cost efficient vampire costumes, Gothic clothes & gear in the market... from Dracula costumes to sharp vampire teeth... http://vampirecostumesstore.com

Save Me, Glossies, Save Me!

Tag:china toys,glossies
From:http://www.buy-china-toys.com/

A year ago, US writer Cathy Alter was a binge-drinking, sugar-sucking wreck, shagging a feckless colleague called Bruno. Now she is happily married and eating vegetables. How did she did do it? By following the advice of glossy magazines. Every word. She had Elle in her ear, Vogue at her throat and Oprah (O magazine) up her nose. She describes it all in her book Up for Renewal.
On reading it, I puke and puke again. I have agreed with my editor that I will emulate Alter, spending a week following the advice of women's magazines - my nemeses. I despise Tatler, Harper's and all their evil spawn. Whenever I hear the words Style Bible, I reach for my garrote. I blame them for all the evil in the world: greed, bulimia, blusher, but I duly go to the newsagent and find them on the shelves, preening with self-love. I take them home, spread them out and howl, "Save me glossies, save me!" and immediately I see a list of impossible demands. Take your Brain Shopping! Linger over Love Time! Say Goodbye to Fungi! Stop Stress Making you Fat! Think Yourself Happy! Wear a Romper Suit! Decode Your Sex Dreams! Feng-shui Your Arsehole! (OK, I made the last one up.)
And the more I stare at the pages, the more surreal the advice becomes. Cosmo suggests I stop emotionally dumping on my cat: "Is Your Cat Your Counsellor?" Prima suggests that, when tidying, "gather up items left downstairs and take them all up in one go". Thanks Prima! There is, according to Company, a correct way to board a plane. Step 4 is to "eat an avocado".
I suddenly feel disorientated. Am I in my bedroom? Or am I standing in the middle of Wembley Stadium, with 86,000 Jewish mothers shouting at me?
I start at the top, with Tatler. Admittedly, Tatler doesn't really give advice. That is not the point of Tatler. The point of Tatler is to float above you, taunting you with your disgusting plebbiness. This month, Tatler says I should go and buy a solid silver lid for my Marmite, and a 14-carat gold bra. This is not so much a "tip", as an incitement to burning down the Cond Nast building, while wearing cheap clothing, no lip gloss and a smile.
But wait. Tatler also recommends a "Fabulous on High-heels Master Class" given by an ex-ballerina called Sarah Toner. She teaches women how to walk in heels, saving super-stylish fembots from falling over and bashing their brains out on their occasional tables. Now, this is interesting. I have had a pair of 4-inch Gucci spikes in my wardrobe for five years. They are what my sister calls "car shoes". I don't wear them; I use them to kill flies. I put them in my bag and go to see Sarah in her studio near King's Cross.
She is slim and smiling. I wave the shoes at her. I don't think I can possibly learn to walk in them. "We're not going to put the heels on yet," Sarah says, and makes me do some stretching exercises. Afterwards, my body is so relaxed that when I put on the spikes and try to walk, I can do it. Easily. I feel exhilarated. I didn't think that Tatler published anything worth knowing about. I thought it was all Buffy de la Fluffy Muffy marrying Baron Von Wank and laughing at the proles all night long. So I feel slightly angry too.
I turn to that manifesto for malevolent pencil-women: Vogue. Vogue doesn't really seem to have any advice either, except to buy everything you can lift with your spindly arms. This month they are pushing tartan, denim and romper suits, but there is absolutely no point in browsing for designer clothes. They don't make them in my size. How do I know? Because I once walked into a Louis Vuitton store with 1,000 and demanded a dress in a size 16. "Sold out, madam," they sneered. "Don't you want fat people's money?" I screamed back.
Perhaps I should do something with my hair. A friend once told me it resembles the ears of a friendly dog. "Dual texture is one of the season's biggest hair trends," declares Vogue, in its customary splice of malice, advertorial and idiot-speak. The accompanying photograph shows a woman with two hairstyles on her head. The first has been stolen from the corpse of Maria von Trapp. The other is the bottom half of a squirrel.
So I call Toni and Guy, and a few hours later I am dashing through their doors. The stylist snips and blows and tongs, and two hours later my hair is half soup-bowl, half poodle. I look like Jean Harlow. I love it. But as I cycle away from the salon, it rains. My hair whimpers, sobs and hurls itself under a bus. By the time I get home I look like Animal from the Muppets.
But no matter. A new mistress is whispering in my ear. It is Elle. The magazine splays open on a page about breast treatments. The first suggestion is to inject my breasts with "filler". This will inflate them for a whole year. No. So how about a "Thalgo bust modelling treatment"? This involves "the application of an intense thermal mask designed to enhance elasticity and maintain bust firmness". Please, no. I am afraid of beauty therapists. I was once awoken from a massage in Switzerland by one playing a xylophone.
But I go to the Aquilla salon in London's Knightsbridge, where another incredibly smiley woman takes me to a windowless room. I imagine it is the sort of room that Lavrenty Pavlovich Beria tortured people in. I strip off and she exfoliates my breasts with long, sweeping motions, as if she is playing the piano. Then she wraps my breasts in gauze, and smears it with clay. The gauze hardens and when she pulls it off, I have a piece of gauze with an imprint of my breasts on it. Wow. My breasts feel soft. (I cannot believe I am typing this. I cannot believe I am reviewing the elasticity of my breasts.) It's nice. It's fine. But what does it do? What is it for?
And so, onwards, wilting, to Cosmopolitan, the sex-crazed best friend you want to stab in the face. Cosmo does at least have a work ethic between multiple orgasms, between meetings, and she recommends calling Ros at thecareercoach.co.uk, for advice. Ros is an intensely sane sounding Scottish woman. I confess to my chaotic work habits and she analyses them. Apparently, my chaos is "a badge of honour" that makes me feel like "a miracle worker". So we devise some mantras: I choose the slightly Stalinist "Order is Joyful". At the end of the session, I promise to have my printer mended, and to buy some lightbulbs.
And now, to my final glossy - to the pint-sized, arse-kicking, hyper-aggressive dwarf of the magazine world - Glamour. She beckons me with a bright red claw. "I want", she whispers, "for you to call the Glamour Psychic Hotline for a personal and confidential reading with a real psychic for a mere 1.50 a minute from a BT landline." So I telephone the Psychic Hotline, and a man answers. He speaks very softly, and he sounds very tired. "Hello," he says. "I am Martin." Martin says he is going to read my tarot cards. I ask a few questions about marriage prospects, career and my chances of developing lung cancer. He mutters, "Stay where you are at work; I can see double rings in your love life" and he advises me to stop smoking. "You shouldn't smoke. Animals don't smoke". Then he says my energy is "bright". I wonder if he ever tells Glamour readers that their energy is "dull"? What would they do if he did? Buy a new face?
The week is dead. So how do I FEEL? Did the Glossies Eat My Life? Did I Think Myself Mad? Did I Linger Over Suicide? Take My Arse Shopping? Well, the glossies, I have decided, come in three toxic strains. The ones that say you are ugly. The ones that say you are stupid. And the ones that say both. I don't want to be told why I dreamt I shagged Gerard Depardieu; ask yourself what's missing in your own life. I don't want to be told "the top half is the only part of your body seen in a crowd - so make it main priority". I don't believe in the redemptive power of scatter cushions. So goodbye breast exfoliation and romper suits. And hello again, grim life. Oh, how I've missed you.

About the Author

Tag:china toys,glossies
From:http://www.buy-china-toys.com/

Creation adds art to Fido's collar in a snap
Lisa Barghahn is one of those people who looks at a problem and thinks, “There has got to be a better way.”

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