Fashioned by Pluche (the zine) Issue 1 + GIVEAWAY


It is strange how we hold on to the pieces of the past while we wait for our futures.
Ally Condie


This post comes to you in 4 parts...

It's the first day of December. I've got two words for you: Michael. Bublé. I think, and Mr. Bublé knows it, the Christmas album is the best idea he has ever had. Because, although I'm quite scrooge-esque towards Christmas, the soothing warm sound of Mr. Bublé's voice somehow makes everything in life better. (E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g). Anyway, while I'm swinging and shaking my booty to some Santa Claus adoring sounds, you can read this post. So let's get started! (she said, while sliding over the floor with a hairbrush in her hand loudly singing along to 'Santa Claus is Coming to Town').

1. I'VE FINISHED MY FIRST ZINE!

I've finished my first zine! It's called 'Nostalgia: There's going to be no future' (to keep it bright and cheery). What to expect? 48 pages filled with bad -but sincere- poetry, original (Microsoft Paint) art and that overall wistful nostalgic feeling...

If you'd like a digital (PDF) copy of the zine, please send an email to: fashionedbypluche@hotmail.com with the subject line 'Fashioned by Pluche Zine Issue 1'.

However...


2. GIVEAWAY

 If you'd like a physical copy of the zine, enter the giveaway! There are two ways to enter this giveaway (everything is in parts these days):

1. Bloggy-blog
- Follow this blog (either on Bloglovin or click on the follow button underneath the 'Good Kids Club' in the sidebar).
- Write a comment below this post telling me about a nostalgic childhood story.
(Don't forget to look back to know if you're the winner...)

2. Insta
- Go to my Instagram (@dominique_by_pluche) and follow it.
- Click on the picture with my baby face (the one that's got 'giveaway' written on it).
- Like the picture and tell me a nostalgic childhood story.

The giveaway is open internationally. The winners will be announced on the 15th of December around 20:00 Central European Time.

However...



3. I'LL SHOW MINE IF YOU SHOW YOURS

I'd like to broaden my zine-world experience. So if you've got a zine of your own and you'd like me to read it (and write about it on this blog), you can send an email to fashionedbypluche@hotmail.com, with the subject line 'Fashioned by Pluche Zine Issue 1 SWAP'. You can either send me a digital copy and get a digital copy in return OR you can give me your contact details and I'll give you mine and we can send each other physical copies... Sounds like a plan, right?


4. WHAT'S NEXT?

Good question! I've already started working on the second issue. This time it's all about bad habits. So if you have a bad habit to share, you can! (Lucky you.) It can be anything and it can be expressed in anyway... (but don't come up to me and confess that your bad habit is killing people. "Oops, oh no, I kill people everywhere I go, I can't help it, I can't control myself, it's such a bad habit! Almost as bad as my chocolate addiction...". Just no. No. NO. Clear?). I already feel that this one is going to be (even *wink wink*) better and bigger than this one.

Love,
Dominique

Comments

  1. oooohhh! a giveaway! I love giveaways!! ok, ill enter--- I've followed you on bloglovin', and now, for the nostalgic childhood story--oh, haha! I can't believe I thought of THAT one. Okay, here goes:
    I went to a weird elementary school-- while both boys and girls attended the same school, there were separate classes for boys and girls starting in pre-1st grade. So I was 6 years old at the time, in pre-1st. I don't know why I did this, because I really am not the type, but that day was the day I decided to bring my entire barbie/costume jewelry collection to school. I really don't know why I did it. I think it made me popular for a day. Anyway, for some reason, all the little 6 year old girls in my class were quite entranced by the barbies and stuff that I brought to school, so at recess, we decided to play with them. The only problem was, where would we play with them where the boys wouldn't see? Because if they saw us playing with barbies, boy would they make fun of us. Suddenly, someone smart--(i really hope it wasnt me)--came up with the brilliant idea to sit under a staircase leading into a classroom. The problem was, that was the pre-1st boys' classroom. But we decided that because we were sitting under the staircase, no one could see us. Obviously. so we started pulling out all the guns, enwrapping ourselves with jewelry, and altogether abusing my barbies. after about 10 minutes of peaceful yet tentative barbie bliss, there was a sudden yell from behind me, and all the girls around me started shrieking, quickly gathering up my stuff and getting ready to leap away. I slowly turned around. Behind me stood That Guy. The guy that was later to become almost every girl's crush at some point during her middle school career. Lets call him Adam for the sake of things. Adam was staring cockily through the bars of the metal staircase, twisting his face like a monkey, and--the nerve--sticking out his rude little tongue. I whipped my head back to see what my friends had to say about this, but all that greeted me was some empty air, and a few of my bracelets strewn hastily in the corner. I knew then that I had two options: I could either run like a coward all the way to my friends, with Adam's mockery echoing behind me, or I could take a deep breath, stay where I was, and show Adam that his little antics didn't get to me. I chose the latter. I then took a deep breath, calmly shrugged my shoulders, and started to slowly pick up the remainder of my jewelry, my back turned calculatingly away from Adam. After a few seconds, Adam could see that he wasn't getting through to me, so after a few more attempts at tongue lolling, he simply kicked the edge of the staircase and ran off. It was at that moment when I realized what pride tasted like.

    https://cynicalduchess.blogspot.com

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  2. Wow. That's a huge feat! Congrats on your zine and good luck to everyone joining. :)

    annescribblesanddoodles.blogspot.com | Bloglovin' | Instagram

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