burberry marks its territory

Burberry made its mark on the New York skyline Thursday, apparently being one of only a handful of outdoor roof signs to be allowed in the city.

Although its a seemingly small gesture, I love the old-school quality of this. It's not a crazy neon or an LCD screen advert, just simple.

the week of may 27

the first grid. 16 things i like right now.



1. alex prager, photographer. These photos are crazy good - one day I will buy one, but for now, I'll just have to admire from a far.
2. Anna Wintour's office at Vogue. Holy-picture-frames! (source unknown)
3. Houdini Arm Chair designed by Stefan Diez, 2009. A new take on curved plywood.
4. Diane Kruger's amazing style as of late.
5. Givenchy FW09 ad, by Mert & Marcus. Wonderfully goth.
6. Grey Goose bar, forgot where I saw this, maybe its in London somewhere? I love the geometric walls and the spaceage chairs!
7. Set design backdrop by Gary Card
8. A shot from the Holi festival - the festival of color in India. I would LOVE to someday go to this. An ancient festival in India, entire communities get together to celebrate color! They throw mound of powered pigment at each other while running the streets. The colors are so vividly pure and saturated I love looking at the photos. (photo source unknown)
9. A haunted house. The colors in this photo are eerily beautiful.
10. A Thelonious Monk album cover. Love the type.
11. 1973, Southwest Airlines stewardess uniforms. Gotta love hot pants and lace-up hooker boots!
12. Escher painting.
13. Hugh Hefner wwaaaayyy back.
14. Vintage 60s military Timex watchface. I want to put on of these on a great leather band. Apparently they wind up, and are therefore not the most accurate, but its just so classic.
15. The vulcan salute = new peace sign.
16. Rings! (photo source forgotten)

but i'd never say it to your face. i'd never say anything to your face. so i'll say it on my face.

good times.

bringing back the 90s part 2

my favorite childhood movie, my girl.

i thought vada was the coolest chick. and the clothes were awesome too.

its what i want.

I've recently realized that in most relationships, whether romantic or friendly, at any point in time there is a dominant individual. One of the two has the control. They call the shots, they make the plans, they take the photos... you get the idea. What I'm trying to decide is whether or not that is a good thing.

Romantically, when one person gives their being to another, not just in love, but in interests and in books and in everything, I believe they assume a dominant role. If their lover accepts these things as their own, they are in agreement, and therefore recessive. This can happen many instances in one relationship. Person A "owns" music, and person B owns fashion. Person A owns architecture and design, person B owns art. Its interesting how one can become the authority on an entire subject when faced with the microcosm of only two people.

But what happens when stuff is involved? When one person takes the photos. When every memory that exists of this relationship is in Photo-dominant-person's possession? The recessive person can leave, virtually scot-free. Do relationships exist without the tangible pieces that came from it? Can the recessive person forget easier? Is it better to leave behind these things in order to move on? And more importantly, when you do move on to a new dominant being, can the cycle continue? Basically, is it better to be recessive, to give and to take what you need, with virtually no tangible remains? And when you live this way, when you may make the plans, but you never take the photos; or when you write the notes, but never receive them, what happens when the relationship ends? Nothing changes.

I would like to live this way, because inevitably, people change and things lose their meaning. I think its the right idea: to live only in that moment, to take what you need, and to leave things behind when its all over. To be sentimentally minimalist.

for those mod 60s intellectual types.

verner panton's multi-level lounger '63/'64. You know, 'for sitting and lying."
his archive

lo-fi love

ain't gonna wait one heart on you [anyone]

Being twenty-three is my excuse for everything. For being ambitious, unambitious; for being careless, obsessive, reckless, and a complete lush. Because being a twenty-three year old single girl in Los Angeles is like an education on “life”. It all comes rushing towards you when you realize its here: that adult life you never thought you’d reach. That’s right; the work, the friends, the shit, the hurt, the joy, it’s all fucking here, and just on time. Being twenty-three is your motherfucking wake up call. Even harder than deciding what you want to do in life is deciding who you want to be while doing it.

For me, it’s a state of constant sensory overload.

There is the day-to-day. The mornings of hungover haze, of remembering the mistakes and surreal moments of the night before. The kisses, the feeling of hands on your skin, of voices whispering in your ears. The dances: the twists and turns and down-lows of your night. The people who enter and leave in a matter of hours. The work life of late nights and heart-to-hearts with your new friends.

And then there is the past. The constant memories you can never seem to escape. The photos and letters and postcards. The boyfriends and girl friends you thought were yours, but turned out to be less best and more yesterday. The best becomes the past, every single day, and it's completely out of your control.

Finally, there is the absolute present. The right-motherfucking-now; on this couch, in that apartment. The dreams, and the goals, and the new directions. The love of this new band, and that fucking great old Nirvana song. The wine and cigarettes, the writing, the thoughtfulness, and images that catch your eye in that magazine.

This is just the beginning.

playground love

Is it wrong for me to feel slightly threatened by the members of Generation-"born after 1995-ish"? Okay, not threatened. Not in the way that I fear they will beat me up after class, steal my job or give me a wet willie on the playground, it's just, I have not given these kids the credit they deserve on the "with-it"-meter. Today I stumbled upon what feels like 10,000 blogs/websites created by people under the age of 13, and I began to wonder, how are they so well-versed? Smart/knowledgeable in that they watch The Office, know more about Bob Dylan than I do and have ideas about Pantheism.

Being about ten years older than most of these pre-teens, I look back on my 13-year-old days, when my musical tastes hovered around such "diverse" artists as Mariah Carey, Lauryn Hill, the Offspring, and even Britney Spears; nonetheless it pretty much stuck in Top 40 territory. Thanks to my parents I got a little bit of Beatles and Neil Young mixed in there (along with some 80's gems), but I didn't have actual opinions about their musical talent, their genres or their actual weight and importance in society.

As for fashion, the lovely just-turned-thirteen blogger Tavi, writes one of the top visited fashion blogs on the 'net, has an obsession with Rei Kawakubo of Comme des Garcons, and owns a piece of Rodarte knit specially made for her by the Mulleavy sisters.

Don't get me wrong, you couldn't pay me to go back to age thirteen, or fifteen for that matter. But that kind of devotion and charisma that these bloggers possess at such a young age is actually quite impressive and even inspiring. It's almost impossible to compare these youngin's means of output for their interests to mine, for blogs just simply didn't exist in my day. Maybe you could say that the 3-ring binders I so dramatically plastered with photos of my favorite models and musicians from Vogue in 6th grade was my way of showing off my like total obsession with fashion, but I do not think that back then I could speak on avant-garde designers of the day with such eloquence and wit.

So I'll continue to keep my eye on these kids; in 2 years they'll be 15 and Vogue will surely be looking for cheap labor.

Check out these winners, and prepare to get owned.

Tavi, fashion blogger
Random kids singing Jarvis Cocker
Spencer Tweedy, son of Wilco frontman

vintage.

There is something appealing about vintage cars that look less like giant spaceships and more like CARS. I know that's sort of like saying, diamonds are more clear than quartz - OBVIOUS. I also don't claim to know anything about cars, but I'd gladly trade in my little VW for one of these Porsches.

image from pilfered magazine.

karl x lara

Karl Lagerfeld has shot "Fitting Room Follies" with Lara Stone. Maybe its the black-and-white-and-model-all-over qualities, but it reminds me of certain scenes from Qui etes-vous Polly Magoo? This is probably partly because you hear Karl directing Lara the whole way through over the jazzy music. Lara is hot, and so is her "boyfriend" who she doesn't seem to be too happy with. Check it out below,



and a scene from the film,

a little bit of carine,

from acne paper:

"If people ask me to describe my look I always say: quite classic with an edge. Look at my [Balenciaga] dress. It doesn't look like I have on anything special, it's more the way you mix the clothes and how you move, how you open your bag, how you cross your legs — just little things that make a difference."

"with French women you first see the woman and then you see the clothes."

"its true about the quality of life in France, is about food, it's about sex...The French appreciate alot of sex and they don't want to change."

"carine: You don't know where my bag comes from. There is nothing on it, the same with my dress.
jonny: one can see that its very nice quality, beautifully cut.
c: it's balenciaga, but not balenciaga from the runway.
j: its subtle.
c: it's always subtle. "

aaaand, she's amazing.

bringing back the 90s part 1

esther canadas.

she had big lips before angelina did.

notes to myself.

more goth, but also more pretty.
more art deco costume, less modern costume.
less trend, more cartier.
more cigs, less carbs.
more investment, less crap.

umm. yeah.

The Kills - Black Balloon from kenneth cappello on Vimeo.

more dramz.

I get it, Anna Wintour, you need to sell magazines. You need to keep your job, and you need to keep Conde Nast happy. But this?

"The public interest in models these last few years has not been as it was during the early ’90s when Naomi [Campbell] and Linda [Evangelista] caused so much excitement. And until models become celebrities again in their own right, I can’t see them selling as well on magazine covers as actresses. "The generation that followed the supermodels shied away from that sort of fabulosity and scrutiny."

She also says "For models to have the same social and commercial clout as Hollywood stars, they will have to want to live that sort of ‘fishbowl’ existence; they will have to be up for living a glamorous and public existence,” she says. “Gisele and Kate did this, of course, by dating the likes of Leonardo di Caprio and Johnny Depp early in their careers; by going out to events and walking the red carpet; and by each having, in their very different ways, a world-class sense of style." [ny times]

I just don't know how to respond. In my opinion the interest in models has, if anything, grown simply because it is easier to know about these models. There may not be a "big 5" of Naomi, Kate, Christy, Linda, et al, but there is probably a "big 20" set of girls, they just happen to live more private, though maybe not less privileged lives. There are entire blogs devoted to the style of Erin Wasson, entire forum threads devoted to the newest model to star in the Nina Ricci campaign, and well, you get the idea. Perhaps Ms. Wintour should keep Vogue a fashion magazine and leave the celebs for Glamour and other magazines of that caliber, and focus on targeting these young fashionistas into buying a subscription.

dramz.

i love this 80s excess with julia stegner and garrett neff