Archive for July, 2013

Very Special Boots

Tuesday, July 30th, 2013

Tom Ford patchwork fur boots 3775


Look at these stunning over-the-knee boots made of patchwork fur by the always sexy and repellent Tom Ford.

“Purple tone-on-tone dyed astrakhan (Afghan origin) and dyed calf hair (New Zealand origin.)”  Here’s a close up:

tom ford close-up


If you’re wondering what astrakhan is, designer Dennis Basso says you’re not.

“Women who want something beautiful are only interested in the final product,” he said. “She’s buying fashion. She’s not going into Prada and asking, ‘Where did this come from?’ It’s like when somebody goes and buys a diamond. They’re not asking what mine it came from either.”

But I’ll tell you anyway. Most astrakhan lambs, according to the fur industry, are killed within days or weeks of their birth because as they age, the quality of their wool quickly changes from tightly curled rows to a more coarse and wiry pelt. Oh well, too bad for those lambs, they should be honored to serve Tom Ford’s vision.

I wish Neiman Marcus offered styling advice like Net-a-Porter does, but you’ll have to wing it on your own.


The Crash Reel

Monday, July 29th, 2013



Once in a while, I see a film that is so transformative, I wish I could make everyone watch it. The Crash Reel is exactly that. It is a fucking gem in every way and I want you to make every effort to see it.

The Crash Reel is a documentary about a fearless young snowboarder, Kevin Pearce, who has a terrible wipe-out just before the winter Olympics in 2010. The accident leaves Kevin with a traumatic brain injury and limitations that he refuses to accept, but ultimately lead him to advocate for people with brain injuries and other disabilities.

It’s a riveting, emotional and thought-provoking film, beautiful to watch, and filled with heart-wrenching moments that compel you to think about your own family and your own reactions to adversity.

I watched The Crash Reel twice: alone the first time, and then with my husband. The first time, I was overwhelmed by all the emotion but uplifted by all the palpable love on display. The next time, I found too many parallels in my own situation as the mother of both a dare-devil and a child with special needs. I wished that my own story was more positive. I wished that our love could have triumphed over everything.

But still, seeing that there is satisfaction in helping others is inspiring. Seeing a family pull together like this one is beautiful beyond words.

Finally, apart from all its artistry, this documentary is an effective discourse on head injuries. Be careful, and #loveyourbrain!




Wednesday, July 24th, 2013

why am I nuts?


If it looks like Anthony Weiner is about to show you his dick in this picture, it’s because he probably is. Or, he would if he could.

People are all excited that Weiner announced his run for mayor of New York City even though he was lying about his ‘redemption’ and must have known that the truth would come out. What the fuck is wrong with this guy, the pundits are wondering, and so am I.

Clearly, it’s some sort of pathology. He needs to send pictures of his dick to all takers, and he needs to talk dirty to strangers. He needs to do this despite a lust for political power, and the fact that these drives are not compatible seems to elude him.

Because I’m me, I am driven to look for the meaning of Weiner’s pathology. I am certain that his name has something to do with it. Having the name Weiner and looking like a giant nose with some incidental features surrounding it must have shaped his childhood and adolescence. Think how mean people were in school even when your name isn’t Weiner.

So there’s the childhood insecurity and humiliation, and maybe a resulting obsession with outsmarting his tormentors. He’s a small man physically, so he pushes himself in the gym. He rises to an elected office and marries an attractive power-junkie with strong ties to the Clintons.  He’s got it made, but then there’s his dick and the fact that it requires acknowledgment and/or admiration from strangers.

Couldn’t his wife admire his dick enough? Did her familiarity ruin the fun for him? Does he have an unconscious need to humiliate his wife, to transfer his own humiliation onto her? Or does he thrive on the risk of doing something that could topple his whole set-up? Something so stupid and distasteful that no one could excuse it?

His own inclination is to blame twitter: “If it wasn’t 2011 and it didn’t exist, it’s not like I would have gone out cruising bars or something like that. It was just something that technology made possible and it became possible for me to do stupid things. I mean, the thing I did, and the damage that I did, not only hadn’t it been done before, but it wasn’t possible to do it before.”

Got that? If only that damn technology didn’t exist, he wouldn’t be tempted to use it!

His wife looked pretty crazy at their joint announcement today and who can blame her. If she would just smack him in the face, we would all feel better.

Help me figure out why Weiner is nuts. What’s your analysis?

Amanda To The Rescue

Monday, July 15th, 2013

It has been a heartbreaking weekend. God bless Amanda Palmer for cheering us up.

** If you don’t see a picture, go here.

Shopping Intervention

Wednesday, July 10th, 2013

Stop me


Who can stop me from buying this leather jacket?  I have at least five leather jackets but not this one.

Step Two: “Came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”

I’m skipping Step One.

Human Kindness Overflowing

Friday, July 5th, 2013

Nandini Valli Muthiah small


Last night, I stayed up until dawn after taking in too much suffering. I am trying to learn tonglen, a method of breathing in suffering and breathing out compassion, but I forgot. I forgot, and found myself dwelling on my own misery.

Earlier in the day, I wrote a letter to someone whose partner killed himself. Later in the day, I answered an email from a man whose depressed wife has taken to her bed, leaving him with two jobs and the care of their children. Then I read about the mother who killed her 14 year old autistic son, incurring the understandable wrath of the disability community and beyond.

So many problems and so many tragic circumstances with no easy solutions. It’s overwhelming. You have to do something, though, right?

I have a bunch of Facebook “friends” who I don’t know in real life. I acquire them for the usual reasons. One of them, Jon, had an accident a few weeks ago that left him paralyzed in a wheelchair and unable to keep his apartment. His story triggered memories of Max’s despair over his injuries.

I was determined to help Jon. I noticed that he had more than 1,000 Facebook friends. He is a political activist and provokes lively discussion on his Facebook page. So I posted my idea on his page: I exhorted Jon’s friends to each make a $5 donation to his Paypal account. What a great idea, I thought proudly! I felt deeply satisfied by my plan to rescue this person in need.

Jon received four donations, including mine.

He was okay with it, but I was horrified. I couldn’t get over it. Five dollars?? Wouldn’t anybody give five dollars to a human being in such difficult circumstances? What the fuck is wrong with people?

I’m upset by indifference, even though I’m guilty of it all the time. I would like to see more compassion. Coincidentally, I just came across this study in how compassion and kindness can be taught and developed, literally changing the brain in the process.

More kindness would be great. The messages I’ve received from strangers who read my blog have often brought me to tears, just because kindness seems like such a meaningful gift. When we breathe in each other’s suffering and breathe out compassion, we are all that much closer to healing the unbearable pain of being human.

in out


*photo (c) Nandini Valli Muthiah