cerezasYtigres

Big news...

2011-12-22T18:51:00.000-08:00

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

2011-11-26T11:34:00.000-08:00

Ok, I've really been trying to wait to post this, but I can't contain myself any longer. Do you see where I'm going with this? 90% of my Christmas shopping is done and Jeffrey had to hide all of it from me (including the gifts I bought for him), because I SO BADLY WANT TO GIVE EVERYONE THEIR PRESENTS RIGHT NOWWWWW!!! Also, I AM SO EXCITED about Elliott's first Christmas. I've been listening to Christmas music for about a month, subsisting on candy canes and gingerbread, and I'm pretty much sweating hot cocoa. Can you tell?

Atmodsphere Opens! At last...

2011-11-20T22:52:00.000-08:00

Carla was sweet enough to let me trail around while she put the finishing touches on SLO's newest retail/design addition. ATMODSPHERE is surely the most beautiful example of mid-century modern home furnishings in town. Recognize this space? Mid-Cent Mod fans have been eyeing it for months, first in admiration of its structural and cosmetic face-lift, and more recently for the amazing inventory that's trickled in behind locked doors. Including furnishings by super, incredible, ohmygosh, Jory Brigham! Local architect extraordinaire, George Garcia did such an exquisite job retrofitting and redesigning this darling Chorro St. building while maintaing its character and keeping the past 100 years or so of worn-in loveliness entirely intact. Like a pair of vintage Levi's carefully mounted and framed on a wall- it's all about showcasing the great bones, and appreciating the wear and tear, while admiring the careful addition of fresh, clean lines, and subtly artistic details. It's an absolute gem, and the perfect example of building-marries-business bliss. Major design-crush on this one, people. Major.

Visit ATMODSPHERE today!

1119 Chorro St.

San Luis Obispo, CA

805.549.1119

Oh.Em.Geee... it's the M.N.K.R's!

2011-11-07T20:17:00.000-08:00

So as it turns out, (like me), Matt and Kandace- darling duo behind the amazing MNKR t-shirt brand, can't wait around for Todd Selby forever either. Happily, they're willing to accept the generic version of him... ME! This morning the MNKR's opened up their adorable little live/work cottage and granted me full access to the whole abode! I even got a peek at where the magic happens... Hey, I'm talking about the workshop! But yes, I saw the bedroom too.

***bow chicka wow wow***

Enjoy this fun, inside-glimpse at two of my very favorite people, including the other half of my we're-totes-too-old-for-this-but-we-♥-Twilight-anyway club.

Team Edward!

Mmmm... mush. YUM!

2011-10-18T18:14:00.001-07:00

Today I made Elliott a teensy bowl of rice cereal- not so much with the
expectation of him eating it... but rather as a little practice for when he does.
You might even call it a dress rehearsal, complete with costume! Kinda.

Mmmm... mush. YUM!

1. I quickly learned that he prefers to be in charge of his own spoon...

2. I also learned that letting this kid loose with a spoon
necessitates a good bib.

3. The finale... in which Elliott eats his bib, and... *drumroll please*

LAUGHS!

Because I can't wait around for Todd Selby forever...

2011-10-12T20:53:00.000-07:00

Military gone soft...

2011-08-25T21:44:00.001-07:00

Kind of adoring this feminine take on military jackets... Over florals? What a sweet way to transition from the sun-dresses of Summer to the darker palette of Fall.

Oldies but (major) goodies, by Scott Schuman:

Photo source

Elliott Dahl is one month old...

2011-08-10T13:33:00.000-07:00

Summer afternoon...

2011-07-16T10:06:00.000-07:00

My baby Dahl...

2011-07-13T11:34:00.000-07:00

Here he is!

Elliott Dahl Claassen arrived last week Wednesday, and is just as lovely and sweet as anyone could ever hope to be.

We are head over heels in love with our little man, and he seems to be pretty happy too.

In fact, (it could be all the surges of oxytocin running through my body but...) I think Elliott has made me fall in love with just about everything again.

My family, my home... LIFE! He epitomizes it and makes it seem just that much more amazing.

He's like a living, breathing love letter to life. He's made mine feel precious and complete.

Complete with the ocassional ET joke and lots of reminding people who Roald Dahl is too...

Go, Elliott! :)

On environment, inspiration, and being a sponge...

2011-06-08T12:24:00.000-07:00

Kimberley at Wildfox is killing it. Always. But lately she's upped her game and feathered in more personal posts with her usual photo-heavy/word-light fare. As such, my addiction to her blog has reached a worrisome new level. Nine weeks of bed rest is really just a blog-stalking enabler, and Kimberley is my unwitting prey.

Anyway... she recently posted a fantastic piece on personal inspiration and the response from readers was just as great. I love reading about the big and little things that inspire others in their everyday life- so this post was so so sooooo much fun. I'm going to plagiarize myself a bit now and use my own comment to her as explanation on how inspiration works for me.

For my part, I feel like a big sponge when it comes to inspiration. I tend to soak in a bit of everything that I surround myself with, so I try very hard to curate my life as much as possible surrounding myself with the people and things that make me happy, that I consider beautiful or lovely in some way, and that trigger deeper inspiration in myself. It tends to be like a spiraling train of thought that revolves around fashion but rarely ever starts there.

Architecture, Paumes books, mood boards and collages, biographies, my precious family, my happy little plants and flowers, the things that make me laugh, endless education, squishy-faced animals, shades of pink and cream, Paris and the sandy dirt in the parks there, the gardens at Versailles, the beaches back home, finches and little old birdcages, goldfish, Montana spray paint and home-made stencils, fancy teas, the artwork on our walls, the artwork we find on walls outside, Kokeshi dolls, little tiny taxidermy animals, cherry blossoms, fine pointed Sakura pens, charcoal and watercolors, travelling, music, farmers markets, my lovely little home, creating vignettes, rose oil, coconut lotion, spa days, Mexican hot chocolate, grapefruit Perrier, lemon Pelegrino, dark dark chocolate, origami paper, kissing, photography, heirlooms, cooking, carousels, re-purposing, warm weather, fruit and animal patterns, lychees fresh from the tree, pom poms, tutus, stripes, polka dots, quirks, people watching...

These things (and so much more) make up my life. They occupy the space in my head and (if I'm lucky), allow me to catch glimpses of a collective consciousness that will become a trend two seasons from now. They help me to anticipate as accurately as I'm able. And what is apparel buying if not anticipation? We clear our minds, cross our fingers, and try to see the future... Blogs inspire me too. Growing up in an age of zines in place of blogs, I can say that the blog age is 100x better. It's instant gratification, and comradery. Being someone extremely sensitive to their environment has both its benefits and drawbacks. When my home or work space is not a reflection of my (pathetically) artistic temperament, it's difficult for me to control my moods and impossible for me to be either creative or productive. But when the space around me is balanced with the visuals, sounds and smells that make me happy... oh my gosh, every door is open, the roof floats away to reveal limitless possibility and life is extraordinary.

Thank you Kimberley, for being an inspiration. Thank you for giving us behind-the-scenes glimpses into your life and your collections. You have become an invaluable tool in my trending forecast pocket and I am SO incredibly grateful to you for that. You are as lovely as they come.

That time of year? I'm homesick. Yet again...

2011-06-04T14:58:00.000-07:00

"Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair." ~Kahlil Gibran

This stupid quote really set me off today. I mean, it's a beautiful quote... obviously... but it just got me to thinking about what "nature" means here in California- and what it means back home. It's like two separate worlds, and two separate definitions. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know what "nature" means anymore.

My nature is wet with warm water, constantly growing, and in ten thousand shades of green.

Here it's cold rain, parks, oak trees, apples and oranges, poppies and lavender, snakes, acorns, deer, mountain lions, dry, brittle hills in varying shades of brown- or struggling to turn green just briefly a few times of year. Seagulls, hard grey sand, cold dark water, sea lions, and kelp...

These things still feel so foreign and alien to me. I can never quite get used to the dryness of California soil, and the weird smell of California beaches. And I often feel guilty for raising my children here and for these things being what they're now used to. I just really miss my island. I'm sad that my children aren't running barefoot through soft, muddy, jungly trails like I did- never ever thinking about snakes, or mountain lions, or poison oak, because they don't exist there. I miss the big, soft, warm sand that you can push your feet way down deep in, and floating in clear, clean salty water before rinsing off in cold fresh water ponds. I miss jumping on my horses in the back yard and seeing the faces I've known my whole life all over town. I want to scream at myself, ACCLIMATE ALREADY, this is home now!!! But when will it really feel like that?

A few of my favorite marinière moments...

2011-06-03T14:59:00.001-07:00

There are a few French basics that never go out of style: Repettos, K. Jacques, ballet flats, slim black capri pants, Bensimon's, Gitanes, and the perfect striped t-shirt - "la marinière." It always looks just right, and you can never have too many.

Unconvinced? See: Coco Chanel, Jean Seberg, Audrey Hepburn, Brigitte Bardot, Edie Sedgwick, and just about every other iconically chic woman in the world. It's an adorable culmination of all things clean, classic, striped, nautical and timeless.

I love this look, skirted for Spring, with tailored shorts for Summer, layered with a crisp blazer and jeans for Fall, and hiding under scarves, wool trousers, and warm trench coats for Winter.

Here's what I know about the French favorite... "marinière", or the Breton shirt.
The long-sleeved striped cotton garment (traditionally, the stripes begin around the breastbone and it has a boat neck). You know the one, you should probably have 2 or 3 — justifiably, as all are different (to the keen eye, at least).

The Breton striped shirt originated in Brittany— a French province that occupies the peninsula between the English Channel and Bay of Biscay. It's the traditional garment of choice among French fishermen— which may explain its nautical affiliation. And incidentally, the shirt bears a striking resemblance to the Brittany flag.

2010's infatuation with Military fashion was saturated by ARMY and Air Force styling, meaning naval-influenced pieces went largely overlooked. As the military trend winds down for spring 2011, and we turn to new influences - the nautical may be overlooked entirely. But I don't despair. In fact, I tend not to think of the marinière as a strictly nautical or military trend. I prefer, rather, to see its timelessness. Its long-lived contribution to fashion and its perfect palette of simplicity, comfort, fun, and easy elegance.

Photo source

I have a new life goal...

2011-06-01T16:02:00.000-07:00

Recreate THIS!

My poor little piano is making a super sad face right now because it had no idea what it was missing out on all this time.

Happy happy mother's day...

2011-05-08T19:10:00.001-07:00

These magnificent little buggers occupy my whole heart and make me feel so blessed every single day.

When I saw you, I fell in love...

2011-05-08T12:19:00.000-07:00

and you smiled because you knew.

In response to Eli... on trends.

2011-05-05T00:02:00.000-07:00

Eli, over at Thrift Eye recently commented on the "Florals for Spring" post, and my response to her seemed to inject itself with steroids, grow extra limbs and just generally Jabba the Hut all over the place, so... naturally, I thought it best to share it here.

Eli's perfectly normal, unassuming comment:

"But you used to be or still are a buyer for a store right? That brings upon the duality of trend forecasting much like magazines do I would imagine. Magazines criticize the same hypocrisy they represent. If it's not flowers for spring it's stripes, or dots, or whatever then floral all over again! This is why I'm much more apt to wear what I like and looks good on me and not follow trends. In fact, I think the trend right now and maybe for the 2010's is to not follow a trend?

I personally love flowers...and generally think millions or billions of others do too. Why else would Liberty of London still exist?!"

My unbelievably long, ranting, tangent of a response (sorry):

I totally agree with you, Eli. I buy for stores in California, Hawaii, and Arizona- and yes, as such I am slave to the trend forecasting Gods. We're often buying more than a year out. But you know what? It's all just soooo cyclical and after a while... predictable. This gives many buyers an attitude of: "We make the trends... WE determine what will be available to the public next season/next year..." And to an extent, they're right, because often a particular style won't even go into production if the presale figures are weak. Though it can be very redundant, I have to look at each collection with a fresh and neutral palate because I'm not buying for myself- I'm buying to appeal to women of all ages, shapes, sizes, and lifestyles. I'm paid to predict, but in doing so I have to consider the woman who will ultimately see an item in a shop window and stop in her tracks. Where will she be in 12 months? WHO will she be? What editorial, celebrity, weather, or colors will appeal to her? What music will she listen to? What car will she drive? Who does she go home to at night? How does she earn her money, and (most relevant) how will she choose to spend it?

Personally, I wear whatever the heck I want, whenever I want (often to my own detriment- but happily), and in my everyday life I am absolutely immune to what's hip or trendy at the moment. To be honest, I find that the more loose and unaffected I can keep myself, the better my buying and long term trending radar (and thus next years' sales figures) will be. Also, it might seem obnoxious to say this, but when you're exposed to so many collections so far in advance, what's trending "now" really loses its impact. By the time I finally see the product on a hanger, in the store- it's old news. But it's the way this fashion machine works, and it's really all we've got in terms of steering customers down the path that will lead to the highest revenue. Through trends, the industry shoves its ominous mantra down consumer's throats: "Oooh.... Hurry up and wear your stripes while you can... polka dots are riiiight around the cornerrrr!" Ummm... Are my stripes going to self-destruct next month, or run away from home when the polka dots show up? I can't tell you how much I hate that mentality. I also hate perpetuating the gross consumerism and waste that trends produce in my occupation. It's probably the single most difficult aspect of my job, and will certainly be my downfall- which is why I'm so in love with your approach and the concept you project with your own blog.

I grew up in a really unique situation, with my mother selling vintage couture in one room, and my auntie selling ridiculously high-end contemporary apparel in the next. Under one roof! It definitely molded a unique perspective on the appreciation of quality clothing, upcycling, and care. I learned at a very young age that though trends are fleeting, they always come back. The smartest way to buy is always the very best quality you can afford- whether it's fresh from the manufacturer, or a vintage treasure. And always, ALWAYS hang on to those rare gems that fit you like a glove, flatter you, and make you feel like the prettiest girl in the room.

I'll just slip on my hypocrite hat for a sec here and say, that if I could sit a room full of customers down, I'd ask them to really consider the impact of following trends and to ask themselves before they buy: Is it worthy of the space in your closet? On our planet? Who are you buying it for- the salesgirl who says you look great in it? Your friend who mentioned it? The magazine that said you should? Anna Wintour? Unless the answer is "me", I'd advise them to just say "no". Trends are our obnoxious, money-making, way of controlling you. What's most flattering is an attitude of wearing what you truly love- what truly appeals to you, regardless of outside influence. Confidence, individualism, and knowing yourself and your body is the essence of creating a "signature" look that expresses who you really are. And that, my friend, is the one enduring trend that never goes out of style.

She's mixing!!!

2011-05-04T15:52:00.000-07:00

Pattern mixing comes and goes in various incarnations- like all things fashion-related... but I'm so happy to welcome it back like an old friend. While it's not for everyone, I absolutely adore this look for Spring. It reminds me of that carefree (read: naïve) feeling of being a little kid and mixing your very favorite pink floral puff-sleeved blouse with your very favorite Sanrio Keroppi-printed stretch pants and a hair ribbon tied around your waist as a belt. You know, hypothetically... *ahem*

Anyway, it's awesome. It feels very loose, and Springy, and... not-taking-yourself-so-damn-seriously! My favorite.

Lauren Santo-Domingo is killing me with her hotsy totsy gold heels for daytime,
with floral pencil skirt and (oh my gosh, you know it's real) python bag. Damn, girl!

Parisian princess goes to the office? Yes, please!
Polka dots and red lips make me swoony.

I never, ever include commentary on menswear, but I'm pretty sure this
guy raided his adorbs girlfriend's closet so he could look equally adorbs.
The marinières striped shirt would've been so cute with the khaki pants, but he
took it to another level when he threw on the embroidered floral jacket. Amazing.

This girl is my favorite, by far.
Leopard leggings, stripey shirt and her bike?!
Also, I'm pretttty sure those are the Tom Ford Anouk glasses...
Hello, soft spot!

Again, not my usual fare- and I have this weird thing about men in bracelets...
but look at his stripey/polka dotty goodness!
He's even pulling off the striped shirt with the pinstriped suit!
Also, who would ever guess that this suited-up Italian would have a
gnarly tattoo up his sleeve??? I love this contradictory attitude so much-
it's really what the heart of this trend is all about. Bravo, sir. :)

Photo source: 1-5

"Florals for Spring... ground breaking"

2011-04-01T16:57:00.000-07:00

When Meryl Streep uttered that (now infamous) phrase in The Devil Wears Prada, I snickered at the blunt and blatant accuracy of it. Simple, true... biting! Her character, Miranda Priestly, represented all things correct at fashion's upper echelon, and her remark was the verbal equivalent of a monkey throwing feces at its inferiors.

I'm not going to analyze a movie quote here, I just wanted to point out that I've been thinking a lot lately about trends, seasons, and the general pace of this industry and my place in it. The older I get, the less concerned I am with keeping up and the more interested I am in investment pieces that will float from season to season, and year to year, with ease. Obviously my wants and needs change throughout the year- but at this age I know what I like and what flatters and inspires me, and no amount of runway, marketing, celebrity endorsements, press push, or trending, influences any of it. Free at last!

Although, not the best attitude for a buyer... Eeep!

Today it made me think about that movie quote because- you know what? I love florals for Spring. I love them bold, bright, big, and unapologetic... I love them little, subtle, hinted-at, and light... I want them in my house, my hair, my salads, my window boxes, and yes- sometimes in the fabric swishing around me. I never gave them much thought until I moved to a climate with actual, temperature-changing seasons. In fact, what little thought I did give them was tainted by gaudy images of poly-blend matching sets for tourists. But after enduring months of cold, wet, and grey- florals, sunshine, and cottony, gauzy goodness feel like the reward for making it through another icky Winter. Oooh... I am so feeling these light, breezy pieces for Spring...

I love her dark-palette pattern mixing and the belt that anchors this sweet, movable look with a good dose of solidity.

I've obsessed over this photo since last Spring- but that just proves my theory about age and finding the pieces that you'll want to come back to again and again. Plus, I absolutely adore how adept these Italian girls are at making stacks and tons of jewelry look so effortless and casual.

At first glance you're thinking "What? Too much!"- but I'm telling you, this is the freshest and most fluent way I've seen a maxi dress worn. The color isn't in-your-face and the pattern isn't killing your eyes. She's so unrestricted and fluid, yet the result is regal rather than muʻumuʻu.

This is another one saved from early last year. The epitome of femininity (her dress, her ballerina top-knot, and her pink cheeks) and the contrast of well-worn Converse on a grated metal stoop... I love it so much. I tried a version of this on my Paris trip with a soft, Indian cotton, vintage dress that I picked up for about $12 on the left bank, and my grey Bensimon lace ups. I thought about this photo a lot that day.

This look feels the most ingrained in me. I found a photo of myself from a 5th grade art class recently- wearing something pretty identical, but with a weird, old, felted brown hat thrown in. Hmmm... I went through a very Prairie dress/brown boots phase in 5th grade. I've revisited the look several times since then, and it remains a soft spot. But isn't it just kind of precious? She looks so fragile and sweet, and yet also like she could just kick Miranda Priestly in the teeth for mocking her floral dress.

Photo source: 1-5

Military gone soft...

2011-03-31T16:38:00.001-07:00

Kind of adoring this feminine take on military jackets... Over florals? What a sweet way to transition from the sun-dresses of Summer to the darker palette of Fall.

Oldies but (major) goodies, by Scott Schuman:

Photo source

Moving on up...

2011-03-31T16:32:00.000-07:00

Today's high temperature was 92.4°.

Though it's unseasonably warm and we're in for a bit more rain, I'm officially saying adieu to Winter. I won't miss anything about it at all, but I figured this might be my last opportunity to post some favorite Wintery ensembles.

'Til next time...

Photo source: 1-4

Advanced Style: Age and Beauty...

2011-03-30T14:22:00.000-07:00

I can only hope that at their age I am owning my style and personal character the way these extraordinary women are. I hope I'm rocking bakelite eyeglasses like Iris Apfel, and an out of-this-world silvery, Bauhaus bob too. I hope I'm still a bike rider, and on a sweet-ass Bianchi at that!

Inspiration doesn't even begin to cover all that I get out of this amazing short. Fascination, endless intrigue and the utmost respect... Well done, Ari Seth Cohen, well done NOWNESS. Well done, seasoned beauties.

In Cohen's own words...

"When I first moved to New York [from Seattle] I attended a screening for the documentary Hats Off about Mimi Weddell, who in her 60s became an actress and model for the likes of Louis Vuitton and Burberry. I photographed her, and her attitude and approach to style was a big influence on me and the start of the blog.

Walking around New York taking photographs, I noticed how many young girls are appropriating style from older women: leopard print, fur, turbans and hats. In general, the older women wear these things naturally, with more confidence. With the blog I not only want to show that older women are vital and creative, but also to show people [they need not be] afraid of aging—and personal style is a great way to showcase this."

Yes, I have a countdown clock...

2011-03-18T11:45:00.000-07:00

123 Days seems so far away! Although, I'm trying to appreciate this calm before the storm. No diapers, no crying, no spit-up... but every day I get more and more uncomfy and it gets harder and harder to sleep. And I feel like I get to know this baby better and better. There are definite routines happening in there now, and I'm starting to anticipate the sounds that will and won't initiate cartwheels in my tummy. Kicking and punching is much more forceful, and direct sunlight is a new favorite thing in womb-land.

When I'm feeling gigantic, cumbersome, achey, and irritable, I open up the little drawer full of teeny tiny t-shirts, pants, diapers, and socks- and it puts things into perspective again. I only have 123 days of selfish one on one with this little person, before world and outside and danger and element and people become a reality for him or her. Right now it's just heartbeats, warmth, tummy rubs, familiar voices sending it love, and the occasional sunbeam.

I choose Bobo Choses!!!

2011-03-15T15:54:00.001-07:00

"Once upon a time there was a friendly clothing brand
that spoke the language that children speak..."

I can't even explain how in love I am with these pieces from the Spring line of iconic Barcelona childrens' brand Bobo Choses. With each new collection, designers Laia Aguilar and Adriana Esperalba build around a whimsical tale by Felipe Cano. This season marks the first illustrated companion to the collection, Bonjour Camille.

"On Sunday mornings, as soon as the sun comes out,
Camille opens her eyes and puts on her battle dress: a tutu and a top hat.

She has so many things to do: Jumping on the bed until her mummy says
THAT’S ENOUGH!

Eating loads and loads of cherries. Hiding all the umbrellas.
Choosing a new favourite colour. Giving names to the waves.

Asking the wind in a whispering voice to tell her a story....
But then Camille hears a voice from the other side of the door. Stop that jumping!"

Of course we sometimes see adorable little things for children and think "I'd totally wear that!" In that scenario, Bobo Choses is as close as I could possibly get to actually seeking out a tailor and saying "MAKE ME THIS!"

It's precious and whimsical and amazing. I kinda NEEEEEEED IT!!! Thankfully, I have an outlet for this obsession, their names are James, Evelyn, and (as yet un-named) teensy baby.

Last Season's story was based around the darling French lobo, Bobo... And yes, I'm in love with him too.

Once upon a time there was a wolf called Lobo Bobo who loved Paris and pretty things. Lobo Bobo the Wolf lived in a forest near the city but, whenever he could, he used to slip off into Paris looking for pretty things that would make him happy, such as

an old camera,
a fluffy little cloud,
and a ball of emerald-coloured wool...

He always wore a disguise on his trips to the city so as not to frighten the mammies and the daddies. But whatever the disguise, he could never fool the children. They all knew well that underneath the figure in the gabardine, the tortoise-shell glasses, and the Napoleon hat...

there lurked a wolf.
Lobo Bobo.

Lobo Bobo drove around in an old blue car, and chatted away to the car as if it were a friend. On rainy days he enjoyed the sound of the rain, and on sunny days he enjoyed the heat of the sun.

The wolf was a generous creature. He loved choosing presents and he never forgot anybody’s birthday. He gave his friend Little Red Riding Hood a new hooded cape and he planted an apple tree in her grandmother’s garden. He always used to give his brother wolves a present of coloured pencils so that they could make

fierce drawings
of fierce wolves
doing fierce deeds...

After spending the whole day rummaging in the street markets of Paris, Lobo Bobo liked to stand on the Pont des Arts and watch the sun set over the River Seine, while he munched a juicy apple and nibbled a freshly-baked baguette.

As night fell, he would load up his old blue car with all the pretty things and drive back to the forest where he was sometimes afraid of his own shadow. The shadow of a wolf.

Springing foward...

2011-03-13T08:23:00.000-07:00

No matter how long I live here- in the continental US, I don't think I'll ever get used to the idea of manipulating clocks. I hate daylight savings. I do, I'm sorry... I think it's outdated and ridiculous. Benjamin Franklin was brilliant in so many ways...

But this shit is whack.

This was just too funny not to share...

2011-03-11T16:02:00.000-08:00

Cold weather cuteness, Helsinki-style!

2011-03-11T14:42:00.000-08:00

Amber sent me an email today about her friend Eri, who was shot for this amazing Helsinki street-style blog. It took all of ten seconds to get sucked in, and now I've gone through about a year of shots. I feel like even after (oh my gosh) almost SIX YEARS of living in weather with actual seasons- I'm still kind of at a loss when the temperature dips below 65. I've finally accumulated a decent volume of appropriately warm clothing, but looking cute in the cold is still a big, elusive animal for me. These girls make it look so easy! I love that they're warm, and adorable, and individual, and realistic! Sometimes the Sartorialist gives me low-end amnesia. Meaning, I forget that I do not need to drop a couple grand on myself to leave the house looking good. I like that these Helsinki girls are so obviously having fun with their ensembles. I love that there's the occasional high-end item thrown in here, with lots of great Japanese and Nordic design, mixed in lovingly with thrifted, recycled, borrowed, or High street. The more I learn about winter dressing, the more I think it's all about maintaining balance and comfort, while never covering up who you are underneath all those layers.

A few of my favorites...

“I'm wearing my grandmother's old scarf, my mother's old coat, knitted leggings made by Estonian designer Liina Viira and a bag made by my aunt. I like to mix colours and prints. I make clothes myself, too. Kirill Safonov is my favourite designer.” -Allii-Liis, 21

“I'm wearing a coat from Mango sale, Vagabond shoes, pants from H&M and a bag from Lindex. I like extraordinary and funny looks like an ordinary sweater mixed with a fur collar. I like to wear transparent clothes and showy jewellery, especially rings. I admire Rachel Zoe.” -Tiina, 22

“In winter I get a bit depressed and start wearing black which I normally avoid. I like to wear dresses and would like to find a perfect pair of leather jeans. Now I'm wearing a second hand jacket, a H&M jumpsuit and shoes from Din Sko.” -Petra, 20

“I like to wear vintage hats and clothes. I collect and sell them, too. 40s dresses are my favourites. Now I'm wearing a vintage Lanvin hat, a leather jacket from a sale and second hand Yohji Yamamoto shoes.” -Leena, 24

“The cape is from Vintage Ansa and it's also called Anna. The beanie is a gift from a friend, the scarf is self-made, the pullover and the bag are second hand. I like nude, beige and other down-to-earth colours. I like loose, comfortable and droopy clothes like big pullovers.” -Anna, 23

“Today I wanted to wear a comfortable outfit. My current favourites are my Chloé bag and dark lipstick. And you cannot go wrong with a biker jacket. Tokyo inspires me. Next I would like to get something in the spirit of Indians. I almost chose to wear feathers around my neck.” -Ann-Marie, 20

“I like second hand, brown, army green and outfits with feminine elements. Sweden, indie bands like The Kooks, sea and sailing inspire me.” -Mona, 17

Pendleton's been around for 140 years... Think they're gonna make it?

2011-03-10T14:07:00.000-08:00

Let me preface this little tidbit by saying I love David Bowie. Love him.

Two years ago I read a quote from Bowie in response to the question: "So who do you see some potential in musically today?" Admittedly, now I can't remember if he said Radiohead or Coldplay (so I might be losing some of the impact here- what else is new?), but he followed one of them with: "Yeah, they seem to be pretty talented. I actually think they'll make it big."

Ummm...

1. Radiohead had made it "big" while I was still in high school.

2. Coldplay has been Coldplay for more than a decade.

Granted, Bowie is BOWIE, so his perception of making it "big" is likely a tad skewed. But regardless of which band it was, this observation of his was so hilarious to me at the time, that it still makes me giggle when I think about it. And I think about it a lot. I fixate like that. Anyway, that's the inside-joke behind this blog title.

End embarrassingly unrelated tangent.

This is about Pendleton. Did your dad have some of their wool shirts when you were growing up? If he did, he likely still does. When I was 16, old Pendleton shirts were the absolute pinacle of cool. Well, figuratively- because when you grow up on a friggin' tropical island, you have absolutely NO BUSINESS WEARING THEM. Tell that to the 10th grader in vintage 100% virgin wool- sporting a terminally uncool sweaty upper lip. :(

I knew that this incredible heritage brand had been chugging along forever, and I've kept a watchful eye on their recent contemporary collaborations (Pendleton for Opening Ceremony, anyone?! WHOOO!). However, until their recent announcement of an in-house contemporary line, I hadn't actually obsessed over them since the good ol' sweaty lip days. Under the (unexpected) guidance of their fellow Portlanders, Nathaniel Crissman and Rachel Turk of cult-favorite, Church + State, along with John Blasioli- stylist behind indie legends' The Decemberists' stage gear, "The Portland Collection" was born.

Targeting the “bridge market” (that’s 25-45 year-olds with disposable ca$hola to you), and building upon Pendleton's refined and timeless aesthetic, this capsule adds an air of urban sensibility to the classic. Pendleton's hallmarks- never-fail wool plaids and Navajo prints, are re-imagined in contemporary ways, with cuffed shorts, oversized pullovers and trim day dresses-gone saucy with cut outs, the collection features both men’s and women’s capsules alongside unisex accessories. Says Mort Bishop, president of Pendleton Woolen Mills: “It’s more progressive in fashion. The fit is trimmer, for a younger customer — and it’s made in America.”

As though we needed another excuse to buy domestic, Mort... I edited an order for these pieces this morning- and as far as I know, NO ONE in SLO is picking it up. I think that's just crazy cakes. I'm betting that The Portland Collection is going to be on everyone's lips (sweaty or otherwise) come Fall.

Though it's the saddest of photos (a great example of what we work off of post-market), this was my very favorite of the Fall preview.

*Lookbook images c/o Pendleton.
**All sketches by Nathaniel Crissman.

Back Porch Bakery...

2011-03-06T13:35:00.000-08:00

This morning we had the great pleasure of visiting the Berkeland family, and enjoying their absolutely incomparable home-baked goodies. Dan and Caroline, are incredible bakers and have generously opened up their kitchen to the community- aptly dubbing it the Back Porch Bakery. This was my first visit, but good gracious am I hooked! Their cute little home sits on a corner lot, in a quiet neighborhood (you're well-advised to look for the purple door), and entrance is literally through the back porch. A large tray full of bagels, scones and freshly baked bread greeted us first, followed closely by warm offerings of "Coffee, juice, water? What can I get you to drink?", and the curious pitter patter of 14 month old feet on the floor. The Berkeland home feels like the kind of place you could just curl up in and take a nap. It's cozy times infinity. It even SMELLS cozy... Whatever that means.

I think the baked goods absorb all of the cozy goodness of this house and this family too. To call them mere bagels, or bread, or scones would be falling flat. Dan gave us a sneak peek yesterday when he dropped off a couple of Pane Siciliano loaves. To give you an idea of how great these are, allow me to set a scene... Upon slicing into it, alone in my kitchen, knife in hand, I said a single word aloud... "Beautiful". And it is. In every sense. The crisp, fresh, hollow softness of that first break into it? Heaven. I stood over my sink eating slices with fresh tomato, salt, and nothing else. Beautiful, indeed. This morning's array was no different. Imagine the genius of chopped dates mingled with thick bacon pieces, and all snuggled up in creamy, crumbly, perfection. That's the Berkeland scone. But my favorite? The absolute highlight of my day? Can a bagel be a pièce de résistance? These are. These unassuming little treats are actually the bagels to end all bagels. I saved mine until I got home, sliced it in half, toasted it flat for about two minutes, and spread cream cheese thin across each one. My first thought aside from "Holy... Oh my gosh, are you kidding me?" was "biali". The flavor, the texture, the PLEASURE of this little food... amazing. It harkened childhood memories of bialis, fresh out of the oven, eaten warm, in an open-air courtyard. Nothing I've eaten since has come close to those until now.

Thank you Berkeland family, thank you Back Porch Bakery, thank you bagel Gods.

Amen.

Things I miss...

2011-03-03T16:27:00.000-08:00

As much as I adore the little wiggle worm in my tummy, I'll be awfully happy to cuddle it in my arms instead.

In the meantime, I miss...

- Not having to do a little jig just to get my pants over my butt
- Doing dishes, or walking past restaurants without gagging
- Vacuuming without needing a nap afterwards
- Having a belly button
- Laying on my tummy if I feel like it
- Laying on my back without feeling crushed
- Having energy
- Pants with buttons and zippers
- Walking up stairs without breathing like a fish out of water
- Reaching my legs to shave them
- Reaching my toenails to paint them
- I miss SLEEP
- I miss normal clothes
- I miss brushing my teeth without throwing up in the process
- I miss not having a ton of saliva and snot
- Being able to breath with my mouth closed
- The occasional espresso
- Staying up past 10 PM without feeling like death the next day
- Peeing like a normal human
- Feeling like I was in control of my bladder and bowel system
- Walking for more than 5 minutes without feeling dizzy
- Bending over to pick something up
- My memory
- My abdominal muscles (this refers to sitting up, rolling over, getting out of bed without help or groaning)
- My small boobs
- My favorite bra that no longer fits :(
- My underwear fitting correctly
- Feeling cute when I get ready in the morning
- My favorite pair of jeans
- Having an appetite and room in my abdomen for food
- Taking a very hot bath
- Not being in constant pain
- Not being able to smell absolutely everything
- Being able to bend over!
- Being comfortable for more than 10 minutes at a time

End rant.

GILTY!

2011-03-03T14:23:00.000-08:00

Sooo... last week Gilt Groupe* featured an M.J. sale.

What began unassumingly at 9:00 PST, was by 9:01 a virtual bloodbath of page refreshing, cart adding, sale-starved, shopping frenzy. It took me a good 15 minutes of said frenzy to finally get my greedy paws on the style I wanted in the size I needed. I think I probably refreshed the item page 200 times- waiting for availability.

For those unaware... once an item is added to your cart at Gilt Groupe, the buyer has 10 minutes to either make their purchase, or see it thrown back into the feeding frenzy- thus rendering it "available" to other shoppers once again. The tick tocking countdown clock sits ominously alongside any item in your cart. And that clock is not messing around. It's f'ing scary. Seriously... a sale like this one is the online equivalent to the rib elbowing, passive shoving, and outright tugging hysteria of a showroom sample sale. Hideous. But in Gilt's defense, at least these items haven't been molested for months by grimy, cranky buyers. *shudder*

Ok, back to the sale...

I've got my cart up and ready to go. I have two items in it, because in the chaos- I kept vacillating between two dresses, hoping to catch at least one of them and then luxuriously decide between the two at my (10 minute countdown) leisure.

Miracle of miracles!!! I land BOTH OF THEM! IN MY SIZE!!!

The Marc Jacob's "Looking Back Logo Law", which beckons "TO MATERNITY and BEYOND, dummy!!! HELLO?!?!", and the "Looking Back Logo"- which screams "You will love me and wear me forever! I'm freakin' JERSEY COTTON, YO!".

Decisions, decisions... Ok, now it's crunch time. For real... Anyyyy second now...
CHOOSE!
DELETE!
Edit, Coral, EDDDITTT!!!!

Back and forth, back and forth, clicky click.

Ticky tock...

Damn that little clock.

Damn it to hell.

My two new friends.

Aaaand... a Gilt Groupe invitation for anyone needing and lacking. xo

*They should really just do us all a favor and spell it with the "u", because really it's a guilt group.

Trying to keep this in mind...

2011-03-01T08:18:00.000-08:00

Now I want to read a book dedicated to shopping like a Japanese girl. They always look comfortable, but never in a frumpy way. Heck, even the loony "FRUiTS" girls are weather-appropriate! And their ability to play with color blocking and pattern mixing while maintaining some dignity... I'm kind of in awe. But that's a whole other story. This post is dedicated to the unparalelled mentality of French women when it comes to dressing and stocking their closets. They manage to skirt that beautiful line between classic and unassuming, while never blending in completely. Can't you just pick them out of a crowd?! The way they hold themselves... as though everyone nearby is blessed to be in their orbit- and yet, it's with the most subtle sprinkling of "I might be in love with one of you"; so you can never quite fault them for arrogance, as you're too busy either winning favor or taking notes.

"the way to shop…

If she can’t afford it, she won’t buy it. If it doesn’t fit (or make her feel good, or flaunt what she’s got), she won’t wear it. If she can’t find it, she won’t compromise. If she loves it, she won’t toss it. She reuses it, rethinks it, lets it age.

When a French girl shops, it isn’t a solitary act of buying something new. It’s part of a lifelong process of editing her environment, making small but meaningful additions to her home, her closet, her life.

When you shop like a French girl, you buy only one of anything – and make sure it’s the best quality you can afford."

- from Entre Nous: A Woman’s Guide to Finding Her Inner French Girl

The Manifesto of Encouragement

2011-02-23T11:58:00.000-08:00

This is such a refreshing way to think... and a really lovely way to start the day. And yes, I'm shamelessly including a picture of my little alien friend too because lately I associate all happy, hopeful things with my baby.

The Manifesto of Encouragement, by Danielle LaPorte

Right now:
There are Tibetan Buddhist monks in a temple in the Himalayas endlessly reciting mantras for the cessation of your suffering and for the flourishing of your happiness.
Someone you haven't met yet is already dreaming of adoring you.
Someone is writing a book that you will read in the next two years that will change how you look at life.
Nuns in the Alps are in endless vigil, praying for the Holy Spirit to alight the hearts of all of God's children.
A farmer is looking at his organic crops and whispering, "nourish them."
Someone wants to kiss you, to hold you, to make tea for you. Someone is willing to lend you money, wants to know what your favourite food is, and treat you to a movie. Someone in your orbit has something immensely valuable to give you -- for free.
Something is being invented this year that will change how your generation lives, communicates, heals and passes on.
The next great song is being rehearsed.
Thousands of people are in yoga classes right now intentionally sending light out from their heart chakras and wrapping it around the earth.
Millions of children are assuming that everything is amazing and will always be that way.
Someone is in profound pain, and a few months from now, they'll be thriving like never before. They just can't see it from where they're at.
Someone who is craving to be partnered, to be acknowledged, to ARRIVE, will get precisely what they want -- and even more. And because that gift will be so fantastical in it's reach and sweetness, it will quite magically alter their memory of angsty longing and render it all "So worth the wait."
Someone has recently cracked open their joyous, genuine nature because they did the hard work of hauling years of oppression off of their psyche -- this luminous juju is floating in the ether, and is accessible to you.
Someone just this second wished for world peace, in earnest.
Someone is fighting the fight so that you don't have to.
Some civil servant is making sure that you get your mail, and your garbage is picked up, that the trains are running on time, and that you are generally safe. Someone is dedicating their days to protecting your civil liberties and clean drinking water.
Someone is regaining their sanity. Someone is coming back from the dead. Someone is genuinely forgiving the seemingly unforgivable. Someone is curing the incurable.

Idée fixe...

2011-02-18T16:20:00.000-08:00

EF - Live The Language - Paris from Albin Holmqvist on Vimeo.

Who says you can't be in love with a City? I want to send Paris love letters and Valentines every single day. You've heard of istockphoto.com, right? I'm totally starting istalkparisphotos.com.

:)

My big, fat, gross, bummer.

2010-12-30T14:51:00.000-08:00

Tempeh Jambalaya
Black Bean Caesar Salad
Zucchini Beet Roll
Coconut Mushroom Soup

Yeah... I don't think the Linnaea's lunch menu could have failed any harder today. :,(

An Mei and the faux Foodland cashier...

2010-12-14T13:43:00.000-08:00

Amber is my oldest friend. My best friend. The one I made as a little kid and still genuinely enjoy with all my heart. We grew up in a tiny community on a little island in the middle of a big ocean and in hindsight, we were a little.... isolated. Buffered. Sheltered. And (both only children), somewhat immature. But it's ok, because we still had so much fun. Though we live a few thousand miles apart now, we still have so much fun.

Here's a little texting conversation we had this afternoon:

Me: I just found a note to you that says- "'You used to be cute, now you're just a flat-faced Jap!' Pffft! You WISH, hapa glama girl! <3, C"

Amber: UMMMMM. Circa WHEN?

Amber: The actual Jade C. quote was "fat, flat-faced nap"!

Amber: Can you believe the nerve of that COW???????!!!!!!!!!!!

Amber: Flat-faced NAP??? Oh my god, I'm going to throw this phone into the street!!!!!

Amber: Droid FAIL

Amber: Am I even making sense right now? I'm having a low blood sugar episode. Sorry. :-!

Me: I got locked out of my house when I took out the rubbish right after I sent you that text, so six messages waiting for me was super entertaining.

Amber: The sad part is all of those were sent in like a 10 sec time frame...nutsowat

Amber: And nutjob here found a birthday card for Evelyn while cleaning... that was for her birthday last year. Nice job, Aunty An Mei.

Me: No, I cannot believe what a gross cow Jade was. I've been ging through old photos (I have lots), and I'm so sad to see just HOW nerdy I was. People hear "nerd" now and they think 'Awww... nerdy-cute'. No. Nerdy NERD. It's not the same. It's high waisted pants with a button up shirt buttoned all the way up. It's hours spent playing "Foodland" cashier ALONE. It's wearing spandex pants to your 4-H delegates' meetings and eating way too much KFC mashed potatos. :,(

Amber: but Coral... you WEREN'T alone... That is the truly sad part. :O

Me: I know, An Mei... I know.

Amber: Papino Library, anyone?! "We treat our customers like we treat our books"?

Amber: Coral, you WERE nerdy-cute, stop being such a fork about it.

Amber: DORK!!!! I HATE THIS PHONEEEEEEEEEE

Me: I have pictures that say otherwise. But it's ok. At least we skipped the whole beach and smoking pot thing. And walking around in sports bras with shorts.

Amber: We did cuter and cleverer things precisely because of the non-wearing of sports bras.

Me: Agreed.

Post Script...

"Jade" was a relentless (and grossly overweight) bully who tormented us throughout elementary and intermediate school. I think in high school he just got lost in the crowd.

"Foodland" was our local grocery store and later, a favorite hangout and the setting for our umpteen pointless teenage-years home videos.

"Papino Library" was... yes, our imaginary library.

Also, there are exactly three references to The Joy Luck Club in this exchange. Notice none of them are acknowledged, but we both know they're there. This is why I love her so much. Well... that and she owns countless hours of blackmail footage on VHS, so I have to. :)

Deux semaines à Paris ...

2010-10-07T13:25:00.000-07:00

A little peek into my Paris trip last month...

This is me after about 20 hours without sleep, and a 9 hour time-change. Pretty!

Concorde fountain in front of Hotel de Crillon.

Fraises! I loved these little fruit boxes so much.

This is by far one of my favorite pictures from the trip, because you can clearly see the affect of my over-eating EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. that I spent there. My mother calls this "the jellybean"- because with my butt and belly sticking out, I'm shaped like one. I said beforehand that I was planning to pack on 5 Lbs of exquisite French fat as a souvenir- and my God, I really tried. Alors là... it went away about a week after I got home. Oh, and this was taken at our awesome excursion to le marche puces aux Porte Clignancourt. This is the oldest flea market in Paris, and it absolutely floored me. I wanted to rent a Matson container and ship every inch of it home with me.

So this is the provenance of all those shabby-chic, vintage replica tchotchkes- except these are the REAL thing, people! They make everything else look so stupid. No wonder the French feel superior... even their old rubbish is something everyone else tries to emulate. Rachel Ashwell so wishes she was French.

An elephant skull. AN ELEPHANT SKULL! What the WHA?

This is Amélie Poulain's cafe. We ate a very yummy lunch here and got wee bit tipsy on Ricards.

Maybe my number one favorite photo from Paris. The Bensimon store is also located on this street. Oh my gosh... seriously! Bensimon kills me. I bought a new pair for myself and some child-size souvenirs. ;)

You know I don't eat ice cream, right? Umm... when I heard "rose glacé", I totally forgot about that. After praying in Notre Dame, I like to enjoy a nice little rose flavored gelato. You know... no big deal.

Cafe Flore! I ate the most incredible gaspacho here and just sat in awe.

Our metro home-stop was Concorde. Can you even believe this tile work? It stretched in an arch, all the way across the tracks and the entire length of the station. Huge. I was so in love with this spot.

For that matter, I was completely head-over-heels in love with this entire City. France has wrapped its fist around my heart. Every negative preconception was squashed and every fantasy was magnified by the reality of this sparkling City. The people were incredible. The food... the architecture... the history... le Rue de Bac... Murakami in Versailles... ducks in the Tuilleries... sailing pirate ships in Luxembourg gardens... ferrying down the Seine... sticking stickers... oggling street signs... shopping... Champs-Elysées by dawn... Tour Eiffel by night... and every magical moment between. I miss this place so much, I can't even bear to reset my watch.

Sooo, how do you feel about...

2010-10-05T17:53:00.000-07:00

This socks and heels business?

I'm kinda on the fence. On one hand, I love the girlishness of it, and you know- I'm a sucker for anything conjuring the Fruits images of Harajuku* and the coquette street-wear girls. But on the other hand, I feel like unless you've got insanely long legs, this particular ankle break can really cut you down to size in a very unflattering line. Also, personally it's hard for me to have a bare leg in a full-coverage shoe; something about it feels very hard to wear for me- but I'll spare you that tangent. Though I must say, that slouchy sweater sock (second from last) at the Michael Kors Paris show might sway me. YUM!

*the street in Japan, not the Gwen Stefani brand.

Photos in no particular order (sorry, I'm not an organized person):
Sartorialist, Bensoni, Wildfox, Cynthia Rowley, Michael Kors.

This is what happens...

2010-10-05T17:09:00.000-07:00

This is what happens when Kandy-pants and I drink champagne for dinner, and someone leaves a camera unattended.

Sunny bunny...

2010-09-30T23:27:00.000-07:00

Pascal and I, enjoying the sunshiney weather at Mission plaza.

Hallo, from Amsterdam...

2010-09-02T12:22:00.000-07:00

*Incidentally, this German keyboard chooses to ignore my attempts at apostrophes- so pardoning that...

This morning I woke up in Paris for the 9th time...

I spent the morning eating a big yummy breakfast, and strolling around the Arc de Triomphe and the Champs Elysees-

before hopping on a metro to Gare du Nord station and finally, a Eurostar to Holland...

Land of the wooden shoe...

Above, to the right, and just behind the camera perspective is the room I^m sitting in this evening as I type.

Below, and just to the left- is the little blue cabin on a lake where I will be sleeping tonight.

Goedenavond & gauw tot ziens!

Good evening and see you soon!

xo

My mother is a poster-child...

2010-08-08T11:24:00.000-07:00

For old ladies who love them some Montana paint!

Her Colorado Red mirror...

Her Passion Pink screen...

Her Fever Red vanity...
VIVA MONTANA! :)

So excited, I might jump out of my skin!!!

2010-08-05T15:28:00.000-07:00

Soooo.... What I thought was just a stupid flu...

2010-07-21T13:18:00.000-07:00

Turned out to be pneumonia. :(

Though... I prefer to think of it as gnome-monia.

WOOOooo HoOooooo!!!!

Pneumonia sounds like something old ladies get in the hospital when they "just went in for a hip replacement". But I've already had the partial hip-replacement, so maybe I was due for another old lady problem. Oh, and my spleen up and quit on me, so there's that too.

Oh, life... you little bitch.

Meet my new friend...

2010-07-03T16:29:00.000-07:00

You may recall my mentioning the search for a second bike recently. I was lucky (like, BEYOND lucky) to find this absolutely PERFECT 1972 Peugeot road bike with all of the original parts, including the owner's manual (en français, but of course). Well, if any of you know me- you know that I've got that whole vintage bike thing covered with a sweet little '54 Raleigh... so I wanted to really go nuts and have fun with this one. Fast forward one month, one big UPS package, a good sum of money, three hours in the bike kitchen, various cuts and scrapes, and one bent back thumbnail later... Sweet French-hybrid fixie glory is mine. :)

Yes, I have a major crush on her.

I even did my very first Farmer's Market bike night on Thursday. It was... BEYOND. Nothing could have prepared me for the fun, the chaos, the honest to God awesome that was bike night. Literally hundreds of people, hundreds of bikes... It's kind of fascinating how quickly a pack-mentality develops in a situation like that. Rules are thrown out the window because it's very "Us vs. Them"' and well... There are a lot more of us.

There were many choice moments throughout the night, but here are a few of the highlights for you...

Kids wearing nothing but American flags tied around their necks; and narrowly avoiding some serious caught-in-chain, choking folly.

Block-long wheelies. Srsly, I'm not kidding.

Cruiser covered in red faux fur, with girl facing backwards, STRADDLING the guy pedaling. Bonus, this bike was blasting music too. There are no words...

Screaming "Biiiiiiiiiiike NiiiiiiiiiiiiiGHT!!!!" into car windows- because, well let's face it, it was... and furthermore those damn cars shoulda known better.

Favorite quote of the night (second place):
Random biker: "It smells like cigarettes, burnt rubber and crotch!"
Random Barbie-lookalike: "FUCK YEAH, IT DOES!"

Favorite quote of the night (first place):
Random bike guy 2: "Hey, how you feeling?"
Me: "I'm good."
Random: "Just checking 'cos your bike is SICK!"

Tratando de ser optimista...

2010-07-03T14:46:00.000-07:00

Lo que yo hago es recordar a la gente algo que ya sabe. Si te fijas, lo que dejamos de lado son las cosas que conocemos. Es sorprendente cómo, en nuestras vidas, dejamos para el final todo lo que es bueno. ¿A quién se le ocurriría esa idea?
La vida no es así. La vida es un hermoso viaje que tiene lugar cada día. Te está llamando. Quiere que participes en ella, no que te alejes; quiere que aceptes decididamente cada uno de los regalos que se ponen ante ti cada momento. Sin juicios sobre lo bueno y lo malo, lo correcto y lo incorrecto.
En los momentos de conflicto olvidamos lo más importante. ¿Estoy dejando para el final la posibilidad de estar en paz? Si es así, eso requiere un cambio de planes. Necesito experimentar esa paz cada día que estoy vivo
Sabes que la paz es hermosa, pero ahora ha llegado el momento de sentirla realmente en tu vida. Se trata de nosotros, de los seres humanos sobre la faz de la Tierra. Necesitamos paz.
Ahí está el corazón que nos inspira, que nos impulsa para alcanzar esa paz, esa claridad, esa comprensión en nuestra vida. Desde que éramos niños el corazón nos ha estado diciendo que seamos felices, que nos sintamos plenos, satisfechos, y eso es lo importante. Pero de algún modo, usando nuestra teoría, hemos dicho: “La paz, la felicidad… son cosas importantes. Las voy a dejar para el final”.
Por favor, no hagas eso. Comienza a dar en tu vida los sencillos pasos de la comprensión. Éste es tu momento para empezar a comprender, para empezar a darte cuenta de que todo lo que has querido siempre, ya lo tienes. Tienes la libertad dentro de ti.
Así pues, ¿qué puedo ofrecerte yo si todo lo que necesitas ya lo tienes dentro de ti? Un espejo. ¿Qué es lo que le podría dar a alguien que es verdaderamente bello? Un espejo para que pueda ver lo que yo veo cada día.

Prem Rawat-Maharaji

En tu interior...

2010-07-03T14:06:00.000-07:00

Aubrey Beardsley, "The Climax", 1893

2010-07-02T00:01:00.000-07:00

"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don’t resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like." ~ Lao-Tzu

All I Believe In - The Magic Numbers & Amadou & Mariam [NEW MOON BONUS T...

2010-06-07T20:14:00.000-07:00

In the market for bike #2...

2010-05-29T21:00:00.000-07:00

Arms of harm...

2010-04-12T18:58:00.000-07:00

Lucky, lucky, me...

2010-04-11T13:15:00.000-07:00

In what can only be described as the epitome of bittersweet irony, my blog- which I've used to vent and share (in varying degrees of consistency), for a few years now, has had a sudden surge of interest from people I don't even know. Traffic here has more than doubled everyday for nearly a week and 3 subscribers has become 10, pretty much overnight. I've had 9 emails in two days from readers asking questions, making suggestions, and praising the blog. Thankfully, I have tons more to share with you, and a little more venting to do too; and with the suddenly attentive audience I can't wait to dive in. It's amazing, and flattering, and I'm so grateful for your interest. But twist of twists, I also have some major life changes coming at me and that makes it hard to find the time for anything other than packing boxes and scouring craigslist.

I'm really excited to have this new open-dialogue with you, readers. It feels so legit! Based on your emails and comments in response to my "Retail for Real" blog earlier this week, I have some more informational posts in the works for you, in which we'll focus more in-depth on the vintage market. If you have any more specific questions on this topic or others- feel free to email me (cerezasytigres@gmail.com) and I'll do my best to accommodate all of the requests.

I just have to keep reminding myself that every single day is a precipice of possibility. The possibility of getting everything I have ever wanted. So in the meantime, I just wanted to share this sweet little song with you guys. The video leaves something to be desired, but I like Kat Edmonson's voice here, and the lyrics are so full of optimism- something I frequently lack and often need more of. Just bare with me for the next few days while I navigate my next move... Literally. Thanks so much for reading, I really appreciate it. Stay tuned... :)

Nevermind, I want to be this guy...

2010-04-09T09:17:00.000-07:00

Running UP the wall at 1:02! He's just lucky some Men In Black dudes didn't pop out and shoot him with a Noisy Cricket... DAMN!

Is it too late to be Suzi Quatro when I grow up?

2010-04-09T08:51:00.000-07:00

Shirts with perks...

2010-04-07T09:48:00.000-07:00

Remember the album cover for "Goo" Sonic Youth's major label debut on Geffen? Of course you do... "Stole my sister's boyfriend... Whirlwind heat and flash... Killed my parents, hit the road...". That album was just... beyond. "Dirty Boots"?! I mean, come on!

Anyway, I have this t-shirt...

I wear the heck out of it. It's just so easy and worn-in and soft and cozy. I run my errands in it, I pretend to exercise in it, I sleep in it... Yes, sometimes all in the same day (calm down, I'm a working mother- that stuff is tiring). I don't give it a lot of thought, and no one ever mentions it, and at this point it's just "the shirt".

Well, I've got a little story for you...

Evelyn and I were in line to pay for books at Barnes and Noble recently with around half a dozen people in front of us. Suddenly a pudgy clerk, in his thirties came out from behind the counter, walked straight to us and said: "Congratulations on successfully combining motherhood with a Sonic Youth t-shirt. You win, move to the front of the line." I laughed uncomfortably (because that's my typical response to strangers talking to me), and said: "Thanks" fully expecting him to walk away. No. He was completely serious. He took the books out of my hands and led me to the counter. People were confused and irritated. I heard a lady mumble: "Are you kidding me?". I made my way to the front of the line, both flattered and humiliated; but the clerk was so pleased with himself and genuinely happy that I couldn't help but smile. It was oddly adorable. He even gave Evelyn a candy for being the daughter of a once-semi-cool-kid-come-mother-come-anti-laundry-old-band-t-shirt- wearing-book-maven.

Yay, nerds! :)

Retail buying, for real...

2010-04-05T23:07:00.002-07:00

So a friend of mine recently asked about my work, and specifically how she could get into it too. At first I thought, oh yeah... it's nice. As much as I complain- it certainly has its perks; Great clothes, cool people, a little travel... But when I really start thinking about it, it's much more than that. Good and bad, it's much more.

Women love clothes, and young women especially tend to think of the fashion industry as glamourous, and beautiful and I don't know what... so when I tell people I'm a buyer for women's clothing, the immediate response is usually: "Wow!" "Awesome!" "Lucky..." or "Fun". Oftentimes I wonder what they're imagining my work to be... I try to think about it from an outside perspective and wonder, what would I imagine a "buyer" does all day? I can't. I've been up to my eyeballs in this business since I was 14 years old, working as a gopher and retail slave -girl for two years before wriggling my way into "Buyer's Assistant" at 16 (which, cool job title aside, was exactly the same job). It's impossible for me, therefore, to have any remotely unbiased views of this life or to relate at all to the countless girls that seek it out. Am I jaded? Not unless I started out that way. My opinions of, and interest in fashion are so deeply ingrained, they're hard-wired.

My mother sourced and sold vintage couture. I grew up reading "W", "Vogue", and French "Elle" like they were nursery rhymes. I understood the nuances of "cuts" and "lines" while most girls my age were still dressing their Barbies in poly-blend. This may seem smug, but it's really the opposite of that. I didn't know any better. I had no idea that it was any big deal until I was helping squeeze Salma Hayek into a Norma Kamali boneless corset dress at 15 and said: "Well, it's all in the structure- her couture is influenced by architecture and swimwear of the 1940's, so it's really structured, without being restrictive. Flattering without being overt, you know? She sews you in and holds you there with these incredible dual-purpose fabrics, so you don't need the boning!" Salma looked at me like I was possessed, and then she bought the nearly $4,000 gown. My imminent promotion followed soon after. This was my "Oh, I'm not normal"-moment.

The thing is, I knew so much about fashion by the time I went to college, that I couldn't have cared less if I ever went near the industry again. I lusted after the cuts and lines of industrial architectects rather than the cuts and lines of couturiers. Fashion was family, and home, and fall-back, and meh... it wasn't going anywhere. Inevitably I went back to it, simply because it came easily, it was what I knew and I knew it well. I went from gopher, to assistant, to buyer, to store owner and I can tell you- there's not a ton of differences between the four other than money; who's making it, who's spending it, and who's paying it out. Of all those little hats, the one that fit me best was buyer. I make my own hours, I work alone, and the better I buy- the more I earn. The best part is, as I get older, I buy better, I buy smarter and it just gets easier and easier. The worst part is, I'm not challenged, except by my own morals.

You see, there is a new breed of consumer- someone who grew up on Claire's, Forever 21, and polyester prom dresses. They want more and more for less and less, and they don't care where it's made or how- so long as it's cheap and trendy. What's more disheartening is the fact that we (in the industry) are kow-towing to this woman. We're supporting disposable trends, and unethical manufacturing simply to meet the demands of debt-ridden consumers whom either don't know any better, or don't care. But it's cute? That dress you're purchasing at a bargain price was made of cheap, synthetic fabric, dyed with hazardous chemicals and some (illegal in this country) pesticides thrown in for good shipment. But it looks okay to you? It was probably sewn in a filthy sweatshop by a worker paid an unfair wage. There is nothing to be proud of in that prom photo, dear. Your dress is shit and it will fall apart on you. In fact, it's likely something will go wrong with it by the end of the night. Got a deal on your bridesmaid's dresses? Bad manufacturing doesn't bode well for the chicken dance, sister. You're better off having just one bridesmaid and buying her a decent ensemble. Better yet, buy vintage. The fabrics and tailoring are incomparable. Try the touch test. Vintage satin vs. today's cheap but oh-so-shiny and wrinkle-free impostor-satin...

I mention the satin, in particular because I'm fresh off of buying for prom season and to my shock, I found the most incredible silk satin dresses by Joseph Walker. These feel like the vintage couture I know and love. These are the real deal- or as close to the real deal as you're likely to find for the price. Retailing for around $200 they blow the competition out of the water (*ahem* Jessica McClintock *cough,cough*). Even his palette is inspired and tasteful. There is nothing of the garish brights and neo-neons that pop up in nearly every showroom, nearly every Spring. Particularly, his pinks and greens... A subdued, and slightly greyed pink that just looks grown-up and beautiful and an absolutely sumptuous jade green; something universally flattering but oft overlooked. Furthermore, consumers, you're not actually saving on anything- here's a little fashion industry secret... YOU'RE BEING SWINDLED BY BARGAIN PRICED CRAP! Retailers know what prices you're used to, what prices you're immune to, and what you consider a "deal". The less they pay for the goods, the more they make off of you. Think they're passing savings onto you? Absolutely not. The "savings" are built into their profit margins, not passed on to the consumer. In other words, the less they pay, the more they profit. Is there a trendy little shop in your town that seems to ALWAYS have a sale going on? They actually don't... they're simply buying a dress for $10 pricing it at a 5.0 margin (WELL above industry standards). They then mark the dress at 50% off and you're thinking "Wow, I'm getting such a great deal", when in reality, they're profiting off of your trust and making more than they would on a higher priced, quality garment sold at full MSRP (a 2.3 margin). There is no bargain, my friends. The sale price was a farce and that damn dress will fall apart in a few months. Which just opens up a whole other can of worms... false economy, consumer culture, mass waste, etc. On this topic, the moral is this- hang on to your mother's and your grandmother's clothing; these are the items worth their salt, these are the items worth keeping and handing down to your daughters. Expect to pay more for items made ethically and appreciate quality craftsmanship. Have we forgotten what this is? With Levi's now made of varying materials in varying countries, two identical pairs of style 501 you've worn forever (and in the exact same size) will now vary by up to 3 inches in length and 2.5 inches in the waist. The washes and finishes will have no consistency and the cut and feel will most likely be unrecognizable.

Inevitably, potential buyers think that this job is about style, trends, and getting clothing at cost. On style... Of course style is a key factor in maintaining relevance, moving merchandise and longevity in this job. I'm not sure if this factor is innate, it's a bit of an x-factor- but it's also about influence, and inspiration. On trends... This aspect of my job is really the science part of it, and again a bit of x-factor for good measure. Trends are about picking up on little clues and subtle cues in the collective consciousness. They are about understanding the motion and force of fashion from Asia, to Europe to America's East coast, to California, and back to Asia again. It's about the trickle-down effect of Haute couture to Prêt-à-Porter to up-market, to mass production. And once you understand all that, it's about timing. Computer-generated analysis of markets and retail analysts offer some help and take a bit of guesswork out of which departments and categories are moving well, but ultimately it comes down to your innate ability to time a given marketplace. Knowing months in advance what trends will hit at what moment and where. Will your consumers be ready? I can't tell you how many times my own timing has been off. Often as a buyer, having access to upcoming colors, collections, and designs- you're so far ahead of the collective curve that you overestimate your own clock. I've had to store away entire deliveries for months at a time, until such time as the trend hit and the consumer was ready for it.

But more and more my job is really about protecting consumers and the marketplace from bad investments, it's about shielding stores from bad reputations, and finding a happy medium between style and substance, whilst maintaining a fair price-point for desirable apparel. And clothes at cost? Yes, it's a perk. If you're interested in being a buyer, you're likely something of a clothes-horse anyway, so you'll appreciate this aspect of it. I keep waiting for the stuffed-to-the-gills closet thing to get old (it hasn't yet).

And then shit went down... Literally.

2010-04-05T23:07:00.001-07:00

After a shit morning of dark skies and pouring rain, the sun came out. So yesterday afternoon, Evelyn and I decided to enjoy the fleeting warmth and walk downtown for a little grocery shopping and a quick pop into the library. She took the opportunity to do her hair just so, showcase her new favorite dress, white Candie's heels (thanks a lot Colby Courter), and smear some blue eye shadow all over her face- because... of course she did.

On the way back, I snapped this picture of her, because she was just so happy- skipping along, perfectly content with life, strutting down the sidewalk in her heels, talking about flowers and which houses were her favorites. It was adorable and uncharacteristically pleasant.

And then shit went down... Literally.

"OWWWWWWW!!!"

"What? What happened?"

"Something stung me in the ear!"

"What do you mean? A bee? Oh no! Are you alright? Let me see..."

At this point, I lifted her hair back and saw a huge dripping mass of bird shit. What I thought was: Ohhhh... shit. But what I said was: "Ohhhhh..."

"What? WHAAAAT?! WHAT IS IT?! Mommy, it's WET IN MY EAR!"

"Ummm... I think you have some bird poop there."

Cue instant tears, laughter, anger, smiling, and hysterics. Simultaneously (because she's my child).

"GET IT OFFFFFFFFFFFF!!!"

"It's not a big deal... we're almost home anyway. You can take a shower as soon as we get there."

"You don't even CARE because you're not the one that got POOPED ON!"

"Of course I care. Everyone gets pooped on at some point."

"You didn't."

"Maybe I did before you were born."

"Really?" *sniffle*

"Maybe..." *No, not really*

"Well, what if I get rabies?"

"You can't get rabies from bird poop- they just eat little bugs and berries and worms... they don't eat rabid, gross stuff. It's all just squished berries in your hair! Probably blueberries."

"MOM! You don't know about rabies because they don't have rabies in Hawaii! I know all about them! It was probably a vulture that pooped on me because it ate an old dead animal with rabies and now it's in my hair and in my EAR! Birds have rabies in their stomachs! RABIES, not BLUEBERRIES! I read a book called "All About Rabies" by John McCain."

"John McCain, huh?"

"Well, maybe it was William... Mc...M'Hale...john...cain... SOMETHING! Anyway, I read it and I know all about it, and I have it!"

"You're sending pictures of the poop to people, aren't you?"

Please note in the above photo: The opened package of paper towels (used in my attempt to clean bird poop off of her), and the opened package of vanilla wafers (used in my attempt to console her with sugar).

It's a Fleet Foxes kind of evening... :)

2010-04-05T18:46:00.000-07:00

I was following the pack
All swallowed in their coats
With scarves of red tied around their throats
To keep their little heads
From falling in the snow
And I turned around and there you go
And, Michael, you would fall
And turn the white snow red as strawberries
In the summertime

DEAR VICE - FASHION-FORWARD IS FUCKING BACKWARD

2010-04-05T14:35:00.000-07:00

I just caught this at viceland.com and felt compelled to share. I'm not sure if this is as funny for you as it is for me... but being immersed in this stupid industry every day (not to mention being a girl), can really make you take fashion way too seriously; so this just made my day.
Thanks Vice. Thanks Darby.

Enjoy. :)

"Dear Vice,

Contemporary female fashion has reached a nadir unseen since Chinese foot binding and artificial cranial deformation. The third millennium, for whatever reason, has spurred clothing designers and the women who buy their wares to completely eschew the basic principles of aesthetics in lieu of the conceptual. It has been happening for quite some time on the runways, but I believe this is the first instance in history where utility and attractiveness have quite literally been chucked out the window in the name of fashion-forward pipe dreams.

All it takes is a stroll down a busy street of any major metropolitan city to see what I’m talking about. Women, it seems, have been erroneously convinced that it is OK to ignore what actually looks good on their bodies and purchase (or, at the very least, desire) clothing that stimulates their brains in a way that makes them think, “Oh, wow, I can’t actually believe they sell something like this and that I had the audacity to buy it. LOOK AT ME, WORLD!”

Well, ladies, here is my take on why a large portion of you dress poorly. And, just in case you’re wondering, the reason I am qualified to talk about this is because I have eyes, a penis, and a preference for things that look flattering without explanation. Take that, you fucking eye-rapers.

Drop-crotch Pants

Is there a FUPA epidemic at the moment? Have they added an additional ingredient to fluoridated water that reacts with estrogen, which has resulted in an increased incidence of overly inflated guts and unsightly muffin tops? This is the only logical reason I can surmise for the current popularity of drop-crotch pantaloons and jodhpurs outside of equestrienne settings. What kind of woman can try these on, look in the mirror, and wholeheartedly believe she looks good in them? And don’t even get me started on the fags who’ve appropriated these for men. About the only thing these pants have going for them is that they illicit entertaining rhetorical questions. Here are a few more inquiries you can direct toward drop-crotch-wearing weirdos a la Al Jaffee’s Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions, except the pants are a stupid answer and your question is snappy (or something like that): Might you have a penis that you are trying to hide? Do you enjoy inconspicuously shitting your pants? Are you incubating a joey in there? Was the impetus for this style a person who tried to wear a shirt as pants? When you fart with these on, does the stench get trapped in there? Are you Aladdin?

Zany Alexander McQueen Shoes and All That They Have Inspired

If these are the type of unwearable apparel this guy was making while he was alive, I don’t think humanity is going to miss him very much after the barnacles and leeches have sucked dry the PR collateral of his untimely passing. Oh, am I being harsh? Too bad. These shoes are fucking harsh, as in they will jar your senses when you try to walk in them and end up gashing your forehead open on a staircase. I’m all for women wearing high heels (because it makes their asses look nice and lengthens their legs—two utilitarian AND attractive concepts I can thoroughly get behind), but shoes are arguably the most important and functional article of clothing. What’s the point if they make you walk like a giraffe who just huffed ethanol? There isn’t one, so stop wearing these types of shoes please. They look like Spuds MacKenzie designed them using his snout as inspiration.

Big, Furry Hats

This trend seemed to begin a few years ago, and I specifically remember walking down 6th Avenue and spotting what appeared to be a woman walking with a Pekingese balancing on her head. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was a hat and that she was not blind or mentally impaired. I wrote it off as a joke until a few days later when I saw another young lady—this time a loose acquaintance—wearing an even bigger puff of fur atop her melon. I laughed in her face and when she asked what I was chuckling about I pointed to her head. She frowned and became irate that I would dare make fun of her new $350 piece of headgear. I guess that’s what you get for trying to help people these days. To be clear: I am not speaking of the aviator-style hats that many men and women also seem to be donning these days. They are also ridiculous, but not nearly as idiotic as the fur-trader variety that makes the wearer look like a giant walking Q-tip. I challenge anyone to look me in the eye (or even leave a comment below) and make a good argument for why these things aren’t an elaborate, systematic prank being executed by the fashion industry. Go on, I dare you.

Jeggings

Jeans, by definition, are supposed to have pockets and a zipper, or a button fly. Leggings are supposed to be form-fitting garment—thicker than stockings but thinner than traditional pants—that look good with pretty much any outfit. Combining the two, you get something you’d figure only single mothers of two buy for a girl’s night out that ends with their face in a puddle of vomit and their kids demanding Cheerios at 3 AM because “Mommy woke them up.” Then, after taking a spin on your respective Champs-Élysées or Madison Avenue, you realize that even the young and supposedly chic have embraced this gruesome Frankenstein of fashion. The unholy union of these two types of pants should not only be illegal, preachers should warn against their dangers in their sermons. Breaking news: According to my sources (the internet), the latest in jeggings technology has indued them with zippers and pockets. This doesn’t change anything. Why not just wear tight-fitting jeans? There is no good answer to this question other than “Because I have no taste.”

Shorts & Tights

This matchup is the equivalent of sliding a lamb intestine over a condom. And it probably smells about the same in there, too. At first glance, it appears the logic is the same as with the droopy crotch crowd—covering up a dumper the wearer is self-conscious about. But, taking a closer look, I have seen many fine and grope-worthy butts sealed inside the musty cotton-and-lycra mausoleum of shorts on top of tights. If you’re cold, wear thicker tights or jeans or additional layers that fully cover your legs—not shorts. If you haven’t yet, ask your mom about this particular style sometime. She will say it is dumb—I promise.

Ultra-high-waisted pants

If a girl has an impeccable ass, maybe, MAYYYYBEEE, she will look good in a pair of these, depending on the particular cut and style. But only, and I must stress only, if the symmetry of her butt cheeks is perfect and each half of the buttocks is separated and presented as an wonderfully oval mound of flesh. Most women, however, wear these because they believe high-waisters create an optical illusion—that their lower-belly pudge will be less noticeable if the waist of their pants is moved past their navels. Please, ladies, celebrate your squishy little bellyette (as long as you’re not obese). I like to hold on to it when I have sex with you because a) it’s a useful grip and b) it’s funny. Don’t think for a second that your pants are tricking me into thinking that your hips start right below your breasts. If they did, that would be weird, and, regardless, when you take those pants off everything’s just going to go flopping around anyway. Imagine how much more disappointed the person who sees you naked will be then.

Outfits Based on Diane Keaton Circa Annie Hall

The only way this look is OK is if you are a woman who is trying to attract Jewish momma’s boys or other women by looking more masculine than them. If you fall into either of these categories, I’m sure this works extremely well. Otherwise, put on a fucking dress please. Is it really that hard? I have to put on pants every day. Or wear some jeans or slacks or a skirt or whatever makes you feel good about your ass. I don’t care. Just leave the tie and (AGAIN!) the stupid hats at whichever stores sell ties and dumb hats to women. What’s more, lady blazers only work under very specific circumstances. I’m not going to get into those here because they should be painfully obvious. But if you frequently look like a display model at Ann Taylor Loft, chances are you should reevaluate a few things about your clothing preferences.

Gladiator/Sandal boots

We’ve experienced 2,500 years of evolution since their invention and modern women are actually choosing to tromp around in the standard issue footwear of Roman legionary soldiers. Authentic caligae (their name comes from Emperor Gaius whose nickname, Caligula, translates to “little boot”) have hobnails hammered into their soles. Ladies, can you guess why one would hammer nails into the soles of sandals? Because it makes it easier to stomp babies’ faces and women who will not submit to rape. What a fashion statement you’re making by wearing them in this day and age! But seriously, besides all of that, they’re uglier than an elephant’s asshole. They were also officially trendy in 2005, so if you’re wearing them now chances are you picked them up at Payless. Also, it seems that women with cankles think they’re puling a fast one by using these as a sort of calf girdle. In reality, this tactic backfires because they make your lower legs look like a whole beef tenderloin wrapped in twine. Don’t wear them, and tell everyone you know who owns a pair to burn them and bury their remains in a cemetery.

Of course, there are many other offensive modern styles. This is but a sampling. If you feel I’ve left anything out, please call notice to the particularly offensive trend in the comments below. Thank you!"

DARBY BUICK

Monday, April 5, 2010 at 11:55 am

Jane Bussman's Top 10 journalism tips...

2010-04-05T08:57:00.000-07:00

Whether interviewing Tinseltown celebrities or vicious war criminals the rules are the same: Don't use any of these dangerous phrases and you'll be fine

1. "We’re so honoured to have you in our Top Ten list"

Top Ten lists are the greatest insult to celebrities and war criminals imaginable. I learned this the hard way, when a celebrity’s publicist accused me of concealing the fact the Top Ten list would also have other people in it.

2. "Of all the plastic surgeries you’ve had, which one do you regret the most?"

Living in Los Angeles, I’ve seen many alarming amendments to the human body. But stranger yet is what only the surgeon sees; for example, the performer whose over-expanded breasts are now so big that during liposuction, they were taped together to stop them falling off. I am not even going to mention the actor whose oft-lifted face finally had to be pulled down.

3. "Can I touch it?"

See above. It will always be springier than you thought and slightly clammy.

4. "God, you’re boring"

There is a reason most interviews are scheduled in hotel bars: alcohol. First, ask the following Magic Celebrity Question: You’re in amazing shape, what’s your secret? To which the star will always reply, “Wow, am I? That’s really nice of you because I never do any exercise and I live off cheese.” This question allows them to relax and open up like a tranquillized tiger. Now, simply order a pint of vodka and let them bang on about how they grew by working with the amazing Daniel Day Lewis as you imagine yourself in a better place, say, a Latvian prison vessel.

5. "So do you really eat cheeseburgers every day?"

Flannel. In fact, I’m going to deliberately spin out the interview for two hours so you are forced to actually digest the burger you just ate to impress our readers. What use puking now, Tinklebones?

6. "Would you go Full Retard?"

In the best comedy monologue in recent history, Tropic Thunder’s Robert Downey Junior, an American playing an Australian playing a black GI, explains how actors choose Oscar roles: “Everybody knows you never do a full retard… Dustin Hoffman, 'Rain Man,' look retarded, act retarded, not retarded. Counted toothpicks, cheated cards. Autistic, sho'. Not retarded. You know Tom Hanks, 'Forrest Gump.' Slow, yes. Retarded, maybe. Braces on his legs. But he charmed the pants off Nixon and won a ping-pong competition. That ain't retarded. Peter Sellers, "Being There." Infantile, yes. Retarded, no. You went full retard, man. Never go full retard. You don't buy that? Ask Sean Penn, 2001, "I Am Sam." Remember? Went full retard, went home empty handed...’ It goes without say all actors would Go Full Retard. Actresses, however, Go Ugly, cf Rene slightly tubby as Bridget Jones or Charlize in Monster. By the time Nicole Kidman won an Oscar for ten years with Tom Cruise, sorry, for a heart-wrenching portrayal of Virginia Woolf in The Hours, a big hooter counted as a disability. Best unsubstatiated rumour: that after producers Harvey Weinstein and Scott Rudin argued over whether Kidman should wear the prosthetic, Rudin sent Weinstein, who was trying to quit smoking, 1000 cartons of cigarettes with a note reading “Get cancer.”

7. "Is it true you ate human hearts?"

Are you sure you want to call him a liar?

8. "Me too, it was really nice to meet you. My number? Sure! Here it is…"

In Hollywood, this marks you out as a hopelessly naïve saddo. No one will ever call. In war zones, refugee camps, or any major conurbation known for human rights violations, use this phrase and you can expect text messages that not only cost the sender a week’s wages but contain phrases like “dd fr. malaria” and “can your government help us?”

9. "Did the President bomb a peace summit?"

I got the following official response: “He didn’t bomb the peace talks. But if he did, I think there is a reason.”

10. "Well, they’d better dig him up then!"

Just believe them when they say there’s a body down there.

Everything good's yours...

2010-04-03T18:02:00.000-07:00

Go get strong...

2010-04-02T21:04:00.000-07:00

Love, love, love this song...

2010-04-01T20:13:00.000-07:00

Just 'cos...

2010-03-22T16:47:00.000-07:00

Because... Can you really have too much of something you love?

2010-03-21T12:26:00.000-07:00

I had to buy this newest incarnation of Pablo Neruda's 100 Love Sonnets. Had to.
It's just so sweet in this little format that fits as well in the palm of my hand as it does in a back pocket.
And the pink, and the gold foil... Had to.
I love reading these and thinking of he and Matilde living on Isla Negra, sitting on the beach, eating fruit...

His simple dedication to her:

"...I am like a scorched rock
that suddenly sings when you are near, because it drinks
the water you carry from the forest, in your voice."

I love that he waited several years to publish them, in effort to spare the feelings of his second wife. I love that it was more than a passing infatuation and that after years of ups and downs he and Matilde finally married and stayed together, happy, and in love for as long as they lived. Reading the sonnets feels almost voyeuristic; but I am so in love with their love and the perfect, and imperfect and precious way he was able to express it. Viva Neruda!

"Drunk as drunk on turpentine
From your open kisses,

Your wet body wedged
Between my wet body and the strake
Of our boat that is made out of flowers,

Feasted, we guide it - our fingers
Like tallows adorned with yellow metal-
Over the sky's hot rim,
The day's last breath in our sails.
Pinned by the sun between solstice
And equinox, drowsy and tangled together

We drifted for months and woke
With the bitter taste of land on our lips,
Eyelids all sticky, and we longed for lime
And the sound of a rope

Lowering a bucket down a well.
Then,
We came by night to the Fortunate Isles,
And lay like fish
Under the net of our kisses."

"I can write the saddest lines tonight.
Write for example:

'The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance’

The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.

On nights like these I held her in my arms.
I kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.

I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.

Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.

What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.

That is all. Someone sings far off. Far off,
my soul is not content to have lost her.

As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me

The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.

I don’t love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.

Another’s kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.

I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.

Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,
my soul is not content to have lost her.

Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,
and these are the last lines I will write for her. "

~Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)

Wait... They don't love you like I love you.

2010-03-20T09:20:00.000-07:00

My wet dreams...

2010-03-19T17:46:00.001-07:00

More Soko...

2010-03-19T17:41:00.000-07:00

Late Fragment...

2010-03-19T17:35:00.000-07:00

And did you get what you wanted
from this life, even so?
I did.
And what did you want?
To call myself beloved,
to feel myself beloved on the earth.

-Raymond Carver

Today my mother said to me...

2010-03-19T16:36:00.000-07:00

"You know what, squeezing someone the size of a
watermelon out of something the size of a lemon
has earned me the right to speak to that
watermelon however I want...
For life."

Words of wisdom, yo. Don't mess!

Pardon me, I'm involved in some minor Soko obsession right now...

2010-03-18T10:48:00.001-07:00

If you were an ocean, I'd learn to float...

2010-03-17T23:23:00.000-07:00

Happy St. blah blah bla...

2010-03-17T13:00:00.000-07:00

"...EVEN camera phones."

"Who else sees a leprechaun, say YEAAAAAHH!!!"

"Could be a crackhead that got hold the wrong stuff."

"Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid, man!"

"I wanna know where the gold at."

Oh, bring me sweet dreams tonight, and help me be good tomorrow...

2010-03-15T21:09:00.000-07:00

"Thank you God for this fine day
and bless all the children all over the world...

Thank you for the plants and the animals...

Oh, bring me sweet dreams tonight
And help me be good tomorrow..."

I miss you.

2010-03-15T20:04:00.000-07:00

Wake up...

2010-03-15T18:46:00.000-07:00

My pasta making soundtrack today... :)

2010-03-14T18:17:00.001-07:00

Not much makes me LITERALLY lol... but this did.

2010-03-13T11:39:00.000-08:00

"Over Christmas she had a tree-trimming party that I went to.
Yeah, I trimmed her bush…
Shit.
Please don't put that in."

-Gerard Butler, Men's Health magazine re. Jennifer Aniston

Your ex-lover is dead...

2010-03-11T22:11:00.001-08:00

Klaxons does Blackstreet... and I like it. :)

2010-03-11T17:56:00.000-08:00

Get it while the getting's good...

2010-03-10T18:01:00.000-08:00

Free EP by Cults- the awesome 2 piece mystery band out of NYC. Love them. Love that they're label-less and fresh. Love that they're generous with the 3 song EP download. Love that they're making my itunes go: UGH! Again, lady?!?!

;)

Oktapodi...

2010-03-06T22:27:00.000-08:00

Hello...

2010-03-06T22:21:00.000-08:00

Hello, hello...

:)

Cap pas cap?

2010-03-06T21:52:00.000-08:00

Burning barf... My body is a wonderland.

2010-03-04T10:56:00.000-08:00

The master cleanse, an update:

So it's now day two, and I have a little story for you... When we left off yesterday, my will-power was... ummm... slipping. But I'm a catholic, so guilt works wonders on me. I got myself back on track and drank around 32oz of the lovely lemon juice/maple syrup concoction (it really is quite pleasant). Something I wouldn't mind drinking every day, actually.

And looky, I even documented my cleansing optimism for you:

But, oopsie poopsie! Don't forget to add the cayenne pepper!

It should be noted that the cayenne pepper is treated as a "to taste" ingredient; and in my cleanse-induced haze, that instruction was akin to "as much as you can handle, the more the better, knock yourself out, burn the toxins out of your system".

So I did. I absentmindedly poured a cruel amount of cayenne pepper into my drink, and gulped it down as quickly as possible.

Oh, you may need some backstory here to fully appreciate the impact of such an incident on one such as myself...

As a person who subsists primarily upon vegetable soup, cookies, and mineral water- suffice it to say, I am not a spicy person. I don't like spicy foods, I don't order anything suggestive of spiciness in restaurants and I like my salsa mild. VERY mild. It's funny, but I guess I just enjoy foods more when my mouth isn't in pain while eating them. That said... I really have no experience with cayenne pepper in my day to day life. My mother cooks with it, and I know that it's a spicy spice, and therefore I never ever buy it, or use it, much less eat it. I'd say there was close to a tablespoon of it in my 32oz lemon water yesterday. It did taste spicy, but I thought- Swallow, swallow, swallow... Mind over matter, just get through it and then you can drink some water. I swallowed so quickly that it wasn't until the final ounce or so when I realized I couldn't breathe.

Have you ever owned a bulldog? If so, you're familiar with the lovely gakking noise they sometimes make. It's not quite a cough, not quite a gag, but it incorporates the two nicely.

I gakked. I did the fancy bulldog gakking over the kitchen sink, unable to breathe for close to a minute. I then swallowed another 24oz or so of lemon water without the cayenne pepper. Nothing. So then I just started filling up the cup with plain water, swallowing, gargling, gakking... I became incredibly dizzy and lightheaded. I then (inevitably) threw up. Now, I can't quite decide what's worse, drinking large amounts of cayenne pephorror in highly concentrated citric acids, or vomiting them up and having them come out your nose; but I am now an authority on both.

Later in the day, I went to James' baseball game.

Damn that little league snack bar.
Damn it all to hell!!!

But fret not, the trusty guilt kicked in again, and sulking, I handed the nacho plate over to my dad, who was more than happy to "help". :)

I had carrots, cauliflower, and raw mushrooms for dinner with guess what, lemon water!

For breakfast this morning... A tangerine and lemon water. JUST lemon water. I can't even LOOK at you, Cayenne Pepwhore. For my mid-morning snack, quinoa in miso broth. It tastes... mmm... cleansing.

But what I really, really want right now is fruit salad. THIS fruit "salad"...

Can I just be done now? I promise my body is never going to reach the point where I'm craving the lemon water and thinking a saline solution tastes like chicken noodle soup. Ever.
:,(

Cleanse Ahoy!!!

2010-03-03T11:54:00.000-08:00

So it's day one of the master cleanse and I'm going to keep you informed of the progress.

7:30 am
Mineral water w/ lemon.

8:00 am
Chips ahoy cookie.

11:45 am
This business...

Wish me luck!!! :)

This makes me want a pressure washer really badly...

2010-03-02T19:23:00.001-08:00

Why the Internet Will Fail (Newsweek, 1995)...

2010-03-01T11:15:00.000-08:00

Just came across this article from Newsweek in 1995. It lists all the reasons the internet will fail. My two favorite parts:

"The truth in no online database will replace your daily newspaper, no CD-ROM can take the place of a competent teacher and no computer network will change the way government works."

…

"Yet Nicholas Negroponte, director of the MIT Media Lab, predicts that we’ll soon buy books and newspapers straight over the Intenet. Uh, sure."

If Newsweek is as good at maintaining the journalism industry as they are at fortune telling, they should be around for a long time.

The Internet? Bah!

Hype alert: Why cyberspace isn’t, and will never be, nirvana

By Clifford Stoll | NEWSWEEK

From the magazine issue dated Feb 27, 1995

After two decades online, I’m perplexed. It’s not that I haven’t had a gas of a good time on the Internet. I’ve met great people and even caught a hacker or two. But today, I’m uneasy about this most trendy and oversold community. Visionaries see a future of telecommuting workers, interactive libraries and multimedia classrooms. They speak of electronic town meetings and virtual communities. Commerce and business will shift from offices and malls to networks and modems. And the freedom of digital networks will make government more democratic.

Baloney. Do our computer pundits lack all common sense? The truth in no online database will replace your daily newspaper, no CD-ROM can take the place of a competent teacher and no computer network will change the way government works.

Consider today’s online world. The Usenet, a worldwide bulletin board, allows anyone to post messages across the nation. Your word gets out, leapfrogging editors and publishers. Every voice can be heard cheaply and instantly. The result? Every voice is heard. The cacophany more closely resembles citizens band radio, complete with handles, harrasment, and anonymous threats. When most everyone shouts, few listen. How about electronic publishing? Try reading a book on disc. At best, it’s an unpleasant chore: the myopic glow of a clunky computer replaces the friendly pages of a book. And you can’t tote that laptop to the beach. Yet Nicholas Negroponte, director of the MIT Media Lab, predicts that we’ll soon buy books and newspapers straight over the Intenet. Uh, sure.

What the Internet hucksters won’t tell you is tht the Internet is one big ocean of unedited data, without any pretense of completeness. Lacking editors, reviewers or critics, the Internet has become a wasteland of unfiltered data. You don’t know what to ignore and what’s worth reading. Logged onto the World Wide Web, I hunt for the date of the Battle of Trafalgar. Hundreds of files show up, and it takes 15 minutes to unravel them–one’s a biography written by an eighth grader, the second is a computer game that doesn’t work and the third is an image of a London monument. None answers my question, and my search is periodically interrupted by messages like, “Too many connectios, try again later.”

Won’t the Internet be useful in governing? Internet addicts clamor for government reports. But when Andy Spano ran for county executive in Westchester County, N.Y., he put every press release and position paper onto a bulletin board. In that affluent county, with plenty of computer companies, how many voters logged in? Fewer than 30. Not a good omen.

Point and click:

Then there are those pushing computers into schools. We’re told that multimedia will make schoolwork easy and fun. Students will happily learn from animated characters while taught by expertly tailored software.Who needs teachers when you’ve got computer-aided education? Bah. These expensive toys are difficult to use in classrooms and require extensive teacher training. Sure, kids love videogames–but think of your own experience: can you recall even one educational filmstrip of decades past? I’ll bet you remember the two or three great teachers who made a difference in your life.

Then there’s cyberbusiness. We’re promised instant catalog shopping–just point and click for great deals. We’ll order airline tickets over the network, make restaurant reservations and negotiate sales contracts. Stores will become obselete. So how come my local mall does more business in an afternoon than the entire Internet handles in a month? Even if there were a trustworthy way to send money over the Internet–which there isn’t–the network is missing a most essential ingredient of capitalism: salespeople.

What’s missing from this electronic wonderland? Human contact. Discount the fawning techno-burble about virtual communities. Computers and networks isolate us from one another. A network chat line is a limp substitute for meeting friends over coffee. No interactive multimedia display comes close to the excitement of a live concert. And who’d prefer cybersex to the real thing? While the Internet beckons brightly, seductively flashing an icon of knowledge-as-power, this nonplace lures us to surrender our time on earth. A poor substitute it is, this virtual reality where frustration is legion and where–in the holy names of Education and Progress–important aspects of human interactions are relentlessly devalued.

STOLL is the author of “Silicon Snake Oil–Second Thoughts on the Information Highway” to be published by Doubleday in April.

Oh, I'm just swell... :)

2010-02-28T22:16:00.000-08:00

You know that scene in a million different movies where the protagonist hits rock bottom, and decides enough is enough? And then the music gets loud and it’s always a really go-get-’em sort of tune… and there’s no dialogue, just the awesome rock song, and said protagonist starts getting their shiz together and kicking ass? They clean up their house, throw away their crap, dress better, eat better, exercise… get a job… or take their current job more seriously and just... I don't know- generally advance.
I know you know what I’m talking about.

Anyway… *cue up-tempo rock*

I’ve got so many amazing ideas, they're just flowing out of me from the moment I crack my eyes open in the morning. Sometimes even before that. I'm sleeping well, I’m happy and incredibly motivated… getting lots done. I’ve thrown away SO MUCH crap. I feel lighter. Better. I’m feeling super strong and healthy, reading more, working hard, soaking in good information and letting go of the junky stuff and the icky people. I’m writing more, cooking and baking for fun, building teepee’s with the babes, taking long walks… I’m even *gasp* socializing recreationally and by choice (in small doses). There are words, and pages, and paintings, and work-related inspiration spilling out of me in puddles.

They're chalkboard-black and pamplemousse flavored. I'm lucky and appreciative of it.

Admittedly, I did have one major hiccup in the past couple of days, but I think that’s over with now. I hope. It was a make-me or break-me kind of thing, and I’m not letting that fucking shit break me any more. Not worth it. Though I’m not quite at the “wish you well” phase... I mean, you think you know someone... You give them so much more credit than they deserve. You admire them and look up to them... and look to them. They're hypocrites and they're liars and in the end, inevitably, they will let you down. They will knock themselves off of the pedestal you built for them. It shouldn't take 31 years to learn this. So for now I’m just trying to ignore it and focus on the big turning point moment in the movie of my life. It's going really, really well.

That’s all.

And right now I'm listening to: The Mountain Goats- Cotton

My so-called rude awakening...

2010-02-23T21:14:00.001-08:00

I think I liked them better when she was the shorter of the two, and he was, uhhmmm....

attractive.

Comrades in cahoots...

2010-02-23T15:46:00.000-08:00

"To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But it is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be."

Pour me a bowl... or not.

2010-02-22T21:39:00.000-08:00

Attn. assheads, can you do me a favor?

2010-02-19T13:34:00.000-08:00

Stop leaving your spammy crap in my comments section. This blog is so not worth it (trust me I stalk the analytics). For cryin’ out sakes, no one gives a motherfuck about your computer having worms, or your "cheerless prices", ok? Least of all me and the other two people who stop by here once a month or so.

Thanks. :)

And what magnazine's do you subscribe to?

2010-02-17T09:40:00.000-08:00

So, Evelyn still says "mazzazine" instead of magazine, and I finally thought it would be good parenting to correct her- so we went over the correct pronunciation and she got it right. But sometimes she still forgets and I have to remind her- which she does not appreciate.

When she said "mazzazine" again this morning, I said:
"What? Articulate and say it properly, remember?"

She folded her arms and got all up on her sass horse with a look that said:
Bitch, please... my impediment will kick your articulation's ass.

And then she said, very slowly and deliberately:
"Ugh... Mom, I know how to say it! MAG-NA-ZINE... There, are you happy?"

"Oh, hells yeah."

2009-12-15T09:53:00.001-08:00

I think you're right...

2009-12-07T07:55:00.000-08:00

Phoenix - 1901 - A Take Away Show from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

2009-12-01T09:02:00.002-08:00

Nature Boy by Eden Ahbez, as covered by Pomplamoose

2009-11-25T20:54:00.000-08:00

The Office version...

2009-11-24T21:52:00.001-08:00

For Auntie Patty... :)

2009-11-24T21:47:00.001-08:00