because shoes are the backbone of any good wardrobe.

(image via katelovesme)

oh, at the capsule trade show.

yeah, so anyway, my job is not hard. any editor who says they have a “hard job”, go ahead, cry me a river. it’s busy, sure, and requires alot of maintenance much in the way that having bangs requires maintenance (have i mentioned that i snipped my eyelid the other day instead of the wayward hairs i was trying to trim?) – not unpleasant. i get to touch clothes, alot. and i like touching clothes. is that weird? i like touching things. i mean, i’d touch paintings at the met and moma, too, if i wouldn’t get arrested. the thick smears of ancient oils, taunt canvas, lumps and bumps and planes and….wait, where was i?

oh yeah. capsule.

so i go to capsule (one of how many trade shows this past month?) and touch alot of clothes. my favorites: whit, with wool bubble skirts and bright red cashmere and super light stripey tops. sounds basic, and it is, but it’s great. also: timo weiland. jackets with little fluttery wool pieces on the bottom – as much as wool can be fluttery – so soft and non-itchy in the way good wool should be. and the people working the booth, so nice! so welcoming! such a change from the normal “oooh, ok” i get when i inform booth people i’m not a buyer, simply a lowly media pleeb.

what else? lorick – hitchcockian. and lined in silk! i imagine ruining the lovely silk immediately with some sort of deodorant mishap, but no matter. it feels good. dirty librarian chains, displayed on top peter beste’s true norwegian black metal book. dlc, are you letting me know you’ve been inspired by this? i’m on board. nothing i love more than abbath when he don’t feel like dancing.

samantha pleet, she of the witchy-ish goth-ish jumpsuits, showed wool SHORTIE jumpsuits, like little onesies almost. gimme. and red by wolves shoes kept making me want to say BRED by wolves, which is guess is the point, although if they were truly bred by wolves their price points wouldn’t be so out of the current realm of possibility for me. unless they’re bougie wolves. living in the english countryside. whose fathers were cobblers. have i mentioned how hard i want these winklepickers?

so yeah.  now i’m headed down to the corner store for powerball tickets.

l.y.l.a.s, k.i.t!

this – along with other topics such as affordable housing, the mta, and mounds of dog poop all over the sidewalks – pisses me off beyond belief. like, really pisses me off. like, if i were to meet the editor who thought this “why is angelina turning shiloh into a boy” article was a good idea, i’d probably spit in their face.  and don’t get me started on glenn stanton.

from jezebel, who i back 100% in their assessment:

Apparently when Brad was on Oprah a while back, he mentioned that Shiloh wanted to be called John. The mag reads: “It doesn’t appear and Brad and Angie are forcing Shiloh into boys’ clothes” but “Angelina could easily persuade Shiloh to wear something more feminine” and “in the end, the parent is responsible for how a toddler dresses.” Then there’s a quote from Glenn Stanton, Director of Family Formation Studies at the conservative organization Focus On The Family. He says: “Little girls have never been women before.” O RLY? “They need help. They need guidance of what that looks like. It’s important to teach our children that gender distinction is very healthy.” The mag adds: “Though he says there’s nothing wrong with girls not wearing dresses, he believes parents should make sure they still look feminine.”  Dude continues: “Parents need to be the parents and guide their children. You don’t want people asking, ‘Are you a little boy or a little girl?’ That will start to sink in.”

STFU.  seriously?  i won’t get into the bigger picture issue of society’s creepy celebrity obsession and need to know EVERY SINGLE THING THE FAMOUS PEOPLE ARE DOING AT ALL TIMES etc etc.  here’s the thing:  it is completely, totally awesome that this little girl is apparently finding role models OTHER than the horrific examples of “femininity” that kids are being force fed today.  when i was little, i climbed trees and rode horses and rolled in the dirt and absolutely, positively refused to put on a dress.  my hair was short, because that was the easiest way to care for it – and i am sure i liked it that way.  i had skinned knees and was obsessed with star trek and lost in space, major don west in particular.  i insisted, for a period of time, that everyone should call me “don.”  NOT “dawn.”  DON.  and yes, people mistook me for a boy sometimes – which i actually delighted in.

(that’s me.  i think i was three years old.)

and you know what?

it (gasp) didn’t damage me!  ZOMG!  i am very happy with who i am now – thanks to mom and dad who (well, with the exception of that one easter when i had to wear the pink dress and cried my three-year-old eyes out…oh yeah, and that itchy wool thing for the family portrait…) let me be my own little person, no matter how “not feminine” or gender indistinct that was.

go on, shiloh/john.  you have a fun life.  and you always look way happier than that little high-heel-wearing suri kid….

(via jezebel)

it is sunday. i need to work. here is what i’m doing instead:
1. reading lamebook, the jerry springer show of the interent.
2. figuring out exactly where i’ll be wearing this outfit – to class, perhaps?

3. “finding inspiration” in the blue aspic. the book, not actual aspic.
4. re-booting my router in a futile attempt to get my connection to work faster.
5. watching johnny weir do amazing things to poker face.

now back to work. oh, wait….is there a millionaire matchmaker marathon on?

speaking of usenet, the term “eternal september/september that never ended” was bandied about when aol users started flooding usenet. back in the day, kiddies, when i walked to school uphill through piles of snow both ways, there was something called netiquette. that may sound quaint and old-fashioned now, because it is. but back then, we took it very seriously. there were rules, dammit, and you were expected to be polite and conform to community standards when you ridiculed someone to tears. eternal september pretty much represents the steady decline of behavior, discourse, and intelligence on the internet in general.

because, you see, it’s not fun anymore. the internets is for research, for news, for work – in short, another job added to my list of jobs. get through this update, have to read this, have to post that. it’s time-suckage. it’s creepy and stalkerish, in ways that the initial chatroom a/s/l questions didn’t even come close to. it’s scary, racist, homophobic, and illiterate. commenting is reduced to “U STUPID SUXXX UR WRONG” “ur just jeolos” “die psychotic librls” “girls be ready with a few things open. bottle, arms, legs” and so on. and THIS is the world i’m expected – as everyone else is – to open up my life to? i don’t think so.

at least in the “good old days” you knew when someone was joking. remember /sarcasm/?

(image via lamebook)

“…i then mused that this simple yet powerful little displacement of pleasure in the pursuit of most human endeavors might have catastrophic consequences where artistic creation was concerned.  then, following the current of my thoughts, i quite naturally came to ask myself what role television might have played in the fact that people nowadays – entrepreneurs, artists, politicians – seemed to devote more time and energy to discussing their actions than to the actions themselves.”

- jean-philippe toussaint, television

just not when walking in the fw2010 mulberry show. i’ve got to get him that purple sweater….

(via fashionista)

it makes me feel funny inside.

(via lollyphile)

director breck eisner is also re-making the brood, david cronenberg’s extremely personal little indie horror film about rage babies. because we need more re-makes – there can’t be enough original ideas out there for EVERYONE, you know?  i’m SURE eisner will vastly improve upon romero and cronenberg.

aaaand my head explodes, scanners style.

for the love of pork, you don’t.