Archive for October, 2010

Take That, Jeffrey Campbell

Sunday, October 31st, 2010

Ugh!

Oh god. As if!

‘What an Angel’ by Irregular Choice.   $225 at Karmaloop.

Bloggers Doing Bloggers

Saturday, October 30th, 2010

Godammit, I was planning a dress-up-like-your-favorite-blogger style challenge but Bryanboy beat me to it with his Halloween Tavi. I grabbed this picture from twitter so it may not be his final choice but as you see, he has nailed it. Personally, I would have gone with the monolithic pink bow, but the icky layered scarves rule.

Isn’t it great that bloggers can swap roles this easily? I would like to see Sea of Shoes doing Halcoholic and Rumi doing Gala Darling. Karla should do Bryanboy and Tavi could do Diane Pernet. The possibilities are endless.

All you’d need to do me is a crappy black wig and red lipstick, with maybe a cane or a walker.

I have no plans for Halloween because my kid has a party to go to and I’m over it anyway. Years ago, I loved to open the door to groups of sweaty little kids dressed like gypsies and pirates and skeletons and ballerinas. All the kids on my street have grown up or moved away. Last year, I bought candy for trick-or-treaters and had to eat it all myself.

Too bad adults have taken Halloween away from children.   Adults are refusing to grow up, and kids are bound to pay a price.   I remember when Max was Darth Vader for Halloween, and when he was around 12, he was an Insurance Salesman. Charlie was once Frank Sinatra but nobody got it.

So I guess the blogger style challenge is pointless now. Unless we think we can out-Tavi* Bryanboy.

*copyright Bryanboy

TFB: Exploitation or Success?

Friday, October 29th, 2010

When I first saw this photo of Tragic Fashion Boy, I felt a mixture of outrage and sorrow. It’s part of some fashion shoot but it looks like child pornography. Is it the bony little torso that makes it upsetting?

Here, he looks healthier. Sort of.

Tragic Fashion Boy as Twiggy, part of a boys-as-girls editorial in Candy magazine.

Here is a teenager who wanted to be part of the high-fashion scene, and has clearly achieved his goal. Is he being exploited, or is this a success story? What is your first reaction?

Messing With Goony Bird

Thursday, October 28th, 2010

First they give her polio by photoshopping that leg. Then, if that’s not enough, they give her extensions!

I say, Let Goony be Goony! Don’t fuck with her.

I may have to write a heartfelt letter to Shopbop.

Meanwhile, meet two lessor Shopbop models:   Kristen Stewart Girl and Jeniffer Aniston Girl.

Vintage Douche

Wednesday, October 27th, 2010

Lately, I keep reading about “What Goes Around Comes Around,” a vintage clothing shop in New York where hipsters get their old jeans and military jackets.

The first time I heard about this place was a piece in Time Out about style mavens. The co-owner and “style director” of WGACA is a guy named Gerard Maione who exemplifies everything I hate in a man.   You know, arrogant, vain, self-congratulatory, fame whore, perpetual five o’clock shadow a la Richard Nixon (or that guy in Entourage) and a preening fashion style.

Everything about his screams douche.

While I’m mad, let me also say how much I hate stores like this one. They’re selling an old Stones t-shirt for $795, which is just stupid. The real problem is that they ruin things for regular people who used to find treasures in thrift shops. Thrift shops are plundered by “pickers” who sell the good shit to vintage stores, and voila, there’s nothing left but Forever 21 and Old Navy crap. Fuckers.

I’m still mad!

How about this: a fatwa on “thrifting” as a verb. or “thrifted” as an adjective?

Insouciant Style Blunder

Monday, October 25th, 2010

Here are Erin Wasson and a girl carrying either an elephant trunk or a dead emu. Whatever.

They were celebrating the Los Angeles opening of a Vanessa Bruno boutique, where, according to Refinery 29,   “all the L.A. lasses had us scrambling to snap their insouciant style.”

What About Diane Pernet?

Sunday, October 24th, 2010

All I knew about Diane Pernet is that she looks silly and has a blog, so tonight I took a longer look.

But I still can’t figure out what she’s trying to say with her costume.

I guess we’re not supposed to call it a costume, since she is never seen wearing anything else. Maybe we’re supposed to call it her Look…an expression of her individuality and eccentricity. If you check out some older photos, you will see that she had a distinctive hairstyle more than 2o years ago. Here she is in 1989:

Ooooh, wasn’t she pretty? I like the big messy hive. The horrible writer Tama Janowitz also sported this big messy hair back in 1986:

But Tama has tinkered with her look quite a bit since then.

Why has Diane made this costume her signature? Perhaps she is in mourning for her youth. Perhaps she wants to be easily identified, to make a strong impression. Whatever the reason, I want to know what she wears when she’s home alone. I want to know if she fears losing her identity without her costume. I want to know why no one has the nerve to call her out on it.

Is it easier to adopt a weird costume as an older woman than to struggle with your sagging face and body? Is it easier to wear a costume than to figure out how to look attractive and creative on a daily basis?

I’m aware that many designers and artists have a “uniform” they mostly adhere to, like Vera Wang or Patti Smith, to name just two. But I assume their choices are based on comfort, at least in part. Diane looks like she puts a lot of work into the Crazy Goth Widow thing. I don’t like it. It’s too cartoonish. Take it away!

Me, I have a uniform but it’s not as rigid and it’s based on comfort, as well as a resistance to experimentation. At least it doesnt require a head-dress.

What do you think about costumes as markers of identity, and how do you decide what is crucial to your look?

NSFW – The What Band

Saturday, October 23rd, 2010

‘A long lost underground classic video from The What, the greatest band never heard. Originally titled “In Praise of Militant Feminism of the Most Exotic Varieties”, Bacchus Racchus takes us back to the Dionysian revelry of the golden age, utter abandonment and surrender, the sacred act of letting go and embracing freedom and pleasure.’


(Max on lead guitar, my nephew up in the tree and losing his eyeballs.)

Literary Tattoos

Friday, October 22nd, 2010

The tattooed image is becoming passe as more and more people choose words to express themselves. Not just mottoes like “Death Before Dishonor,” but whole passages from novels or favorite poems.

The James Joyce one above is kind of pretentious for my taste but it’s better than all the poor unfortunate people who’ve chosen stuff from Harry Potter, Lord of the Rings, and poems by Sylvia Plath.

The girl above chose song lyrics, from “New Found Glory” on one leg and “Cartel” on the other. I don’t know. Couldn’t she settle for lyric sheets?

The human doodle-pad look is kind of questionable to me, but in fact I have thought about a song lyric or two in memory of my son. After looking at the archives at contrariwise.org, a blog dedicated to literary tattoos, I’m more tempted to go for something really fun. How about this lyric from “Santeria” by Sublime:

Tell Sanchito that if he knows
What is good for him
He best go run an’ hide
Daddy’s got a new forty-five

And I won’t think twice to stick that barrel
Straight down Sancho’s throat
Believe me when I say that
I got something for his punk ass


That, I could live with.   What do you think about literary tattoos? Cool, stupid, or you already have several?

Ode to Summer

Wednesday, October 20th, 2010

Summer Adeline is a cool girl who I never met until she made me a necklace with a locket for Max’s hair.

I only knew her from her website and some blog comments but I had a feeling that she was The One.

She came to my house from across town and presented me with the locket, beaming with pleasure at my excitement. She didn’t want any money.   She let me cry when I told her about Max, and listened patiently to the long harrowing story. She even put the hair inside the locket for me.   A lock of hair that I cut myself while a red-faced bastard from the coroner’s office yelled at me in Max’s bedroom.

Summer is an angel, and she is appropriately beautiful for the role. She’s a girl who Max would have fallen for, without a doubt.

I don’t believe that “Things happen for a reason,” but sometimes good things happen just when you need a helping hand or a ray of light or an antidote to all the stupidity and indifference you encounter every day.

Cyberspace has brought me a plague of malevolent cretins but it has also brought me Summer. Love trumps hatred. How could we exist otherwise?

Thanks, Summer! xoxo