Joanna London Fashion

White Rabbit, White Rabbit I took inspiration for today’s shoot from the folkloric traditions associated with “An Coinín Bán”, or the White Rabbit ––later known as the Easter Bunny. In Irish folklore the Coinín Bán is a púca, or a spirit, which can transform itself into many different forms; a wild horse, a goat, or even a hungry hound prowling a herd of sheep in the dark of night ––some say, that if such a hound is seen in the night after it has slain a sheep, that the witness never witnesses it as a hound any longer, rather it returns to its púca form, a hag with long streaming white hair ––the spirit of hunger herself, who is intent on bringing hunger to the land in revenge for her banishment beneath the mounds by the Goddess of spring: Easter . The story goes ––in the way-back-when Ireland was a bountiful place, green, lush ––a land of Forever-Spring presided over by the Goddess of bounty and full bellies: Easter.   Now ––Easter had a sister called Winter and she presided over a ba

Grace O’Malley: Celtic Warrior I took inspiration for today’s shoot from the “Celtic Warrior” Grace O’Malley. Born in 1530, she became quite the thorn in the side of British Crown when she began pirating ships near her home, on the West coast of Ireland, bringing bounty back from the New World. O’Malley had so frustrated Elizabeth I’s expansion into the Western ports of Ireland that Virgin Queen had members of O’Malley’s family kidnapped in an attempt to broker a deal where-by O’Malley would leave the seas about her home to the sole authority of the Crown in exchange for their liberty. At the ripe old age of 63, in 1593, O’Malley met Miss Lizzy One in person and demanded the return of her family members ––in exchanged, she promised she would not stab Skinny Lizzy to death with a dagger she smuggled into the meeting ––however, it was sneaky old Lizzy herself who would stab the amazing Grace in the back: for from that meeting on she began a bloody campaign to take the West of Ireland

The Woman in White from The Irish Times: 1888 When most are asked: “what is the most terrifying thing that one can confront on one our dark country roads in the early hours of light?” they’ll probably come back at you with some sort phantom or ghoul conjured from their own nightmares ––I, on the other hand, come back at them with a true story about the most terrifying thing my own good friend Pat McGill confronted on the dark road between Bodenstown and Clane in the early hours of a Winter’s morning in 1872, and it was ––a premonition of his own early death. You see ––the road there, between Bodenstown and Clane, is covered over by a canopy atop tall trees and the road itself snakes it way down to the banks of the Liffey like a dark tunnel bored through some Alpine mountain pass ––only in this case it’s constructed out of this arboured mass of familiar vegetation, which is made somehow uncanny by their resemblance to a spectral guard of honour eyeing this road’s users with a harsh

Daisy Feels Three Bags Full 1. Shearing my happiness 2. Ba Ba flat feet  3. My soul is woollen 4. It’s all about ewe 5. A night on the lamb  6. A gambling we do go 7. Knit me an apology 8. Don’t call me sheepish 9. (Bonus Track) My Cardigan’s got holes