While I did get to watch Obama's speech and hand-on-Lincoln's-bible moment today—in the comfort of my office conference room, which was strangely feel-goody—I missed every ounce of inauguration coverage before noon or after 12:26 PM. Alex Pareene of Gawker (already) has a pretty sweet roundup of best-of today clips, but I think we can (AND SHOULD) all agree that this was the highlight:
The word hat just doesn't do that creation justice.
I was feeling like an a-hole—and legitimately so—for not yet having read Dreams from My Father, but now I'm quite proud of myself for holding out. A of all, the story is even more dynamic now that Barry's officially our main man than it was even six months ago—to think that he was talking about change the same way in f-ing 1995 (if you recall, that year's hit singles included Coolio's "Gangsta's Paradise," Oasis's "Wonderwall," and Deep Blue Something's "Breakfast at Tiffany's") is, in a word, BANANAS. B of all, I'm not so much reading as I am listening. Almost a full year ago for sure, my friend P told me about Audible, which is basically the Netflix of books-on-tape—well, excuse me, since I've identified that it's NOT the mid-nineties anymore: audio books.
I mean, seven hours of Barack Obama talking for a mere $7 (introductory rates...gotta love 'em until they F you)??? Amazing, especially on Monday mornings when you don't want to relinquish the down comforter that is shielding you from the world, let alone walk to work in peep-toe shoes (dumb). It's hard to be lazy with all that YES, WE CAN-ness triumph plugged into your ears.
And, I'm pretty sure that I'm going to become an Audible addict. One of the best parts is that, unlike my Netflix queue that eats away at my SOUL, the audio book selection is somewhat limited. Yes, there's lots of stuff, but you can't get, like, every single book at a bookstore. And that's a good thing.
Next up: Sarah Vowell's The Partly Cloudy Patriot as narrated by Stephen Colbert, Conan O'Brien, David Cross, etc. and Richard Price's Lush Life in the voice of Bobby Cannavale.
First off: UGH. I've been such a bad blogger. Christmas is so time-consuming, you guys. ANYWAY...
My friend C sent this rad link about could-have-been Obama campaign logos, and it got me thinking that 1) god, I love fonts and 2) god, I love branding. I the last couple years, I've been particularly drawn to logo art and logos-as-art. A few of my faves:
A. The Liquidated Logos from Zevs, this Parisian street artist. He does Coke, Mickey D.'s, etc. too, but I love the fashion ones.
From MocoLoco
B. The Learn the Basics puzzle for babies by Atypyk. Yes, I know that the concept of acquainting tots with the Nike swoosh is foul, but come on. You can't deny the coolness of the design or the statement it makes.
Yesterday may as well have been national Blagojevich day, as far as I'm concerned, because I could focus on nothing else (not even new pictures of Suri wearing a coat!). Today, John Cass of the (flailing) Chicago Tribune writes an op-ed on the matter and basically talks about how, while this debacle and the the associated Clay Davis-style corruption doesn't come as a surprise to Chicagoans/Illinoisans who are used to these sort of local polischticks, the national media and the general public must be stunned—and a little bummed—that Chicago isn't actuuaaaallly the fairy tale-ized place they saw on the teevee on Nov. 4. He says:
"So though Illinois isn't surprised—this is after all the home of the Chicago Way—the national media must be shocked.
They've been clinging to the ridiculous notion that Chicago is Camelot for months now, cleaving to the idea with the willfulness of stubborn children. It must help them see Obama as some pristine creature, perhaps a gentle faun of a magic forest, unstained by our grubby politics, a bedtime story for grown-ups who insist upon fairy tales. But now the national media may finally be forced to confront reality."
But the issue with this idea that exposing Camelot's dark alleys negatively affects Obama is that—from everything we know right now—Mr. President Elect's hands are clean. Sure, Chi-town is looking a hell of a lot less shiny right now, but that almost plays into the fairy tale notion of Obama's perfection: He managed to be the anti-politician in a place that is full of the worst, dirtiest crooks out there. Rather than come out smelling like shit, he's looking like the flower who used the dung as fertilizer.
Clay Davis (of The Wire...I'm sorry) and his infamous "sheeeeeeiiiiiiiit"
We all saw it coming, in this big, expensive movie we call life. Someone's writing a style book about Michelle Obama!!! Says Page Six:
"THE incoming first lady is getting her own fashion book. Avon has signed former Mademoiselle editor Mandi Norwood to pen a 'Michelle Obama Style Guide,' due out next spring. Avon vice president Carrie Feron said: 'Not since Jackie O have we had a first lady become a fashion icon. Michelle Obama will be one of history's most vibrant first ladies; she has a distinctive style that every American woman can aspire to, whether the consumer is a Target shopper or some one more likely to be found on Miracle Mile.'"
You guuuuuuys, doesn't she have to live in the ol' W.H. for two hot seconds first? Please? Why is this frustrating me?
In other fashion book news, I'm sweating the mere idea of the hulking Kate Moss Style book that was released earlier this month. It reeks of promise. And cigarettes.
In an article for The Daily Beast (new fave site...noticed?), Curtis Sittenfeld, a writer crush of mine who penned Prep and most recently American Wife (which is a fictionalized story of Laura Bush...kind like W. in a sense), writes about the problem with the whole wide world being ga-ga for Michelle Obama:
"Now, after almost eight years of Laura-loving, Michelle Obama is about to become our first lady. I’m totally captivated by her, too—and so, it turns out, is everyone else. And though I’d have expected this affirmation of my taste to feel good, frankly, I’m not sure if I like sharing my first-lady-to-be with so many other people.
For a brief moment, I thought that I’d get to have Michelle to myself. Back in June, the media informed us that she was controversial and divisive and could cost her husband votes. The only problem with this argument was that, as far as I can tell, it was a total myth. For an article about Michelle I wrote for Time Magazine in September, I trailed her at the National Democratic Convention, and in advance of my trip to Denver, I began asking everyone I encountered for impressions of her. I got a wide range of reactions—you know, everything from 'I love her!' to 'I fucking love her!' Admittedly, the people I encounter skew toward my own demographic—white twenty- and thirty-something NPR listeners—but at the same time, I live in Missouri, which isn’t exactly a bastion of liberalism.
Of course, Michelle Obama is so charming, so smart and gracious and funny and beautiful, that I have no doubt she’ll soon win over her few detractors. The only question is, do I really want Michelle to accumulate even more fans? I thought that loving Laura Bush was lonely, but in retrospect I’m realizing that maybe I enjoyed my loneliness. I could feel protective of her for being underestimated and I could enjoy the righteous self-satisfaction of being able to see what others couldn’t—it was like being obsessed with an obscure indie band, knowing I was a member of a very exclusive club, whereas loving Michelle Obama is like being a member of Netflix."
This indie band reference is so on point. The thing is, we are part of a generation that came of age in an era of cynicism and niche. We are used to operating as part of the minority even if we're upper middle-class white kids who've had every opportunity. We only have mainstream tastes—Britney, Real Housewives of Atlanta, dodgeball—when we can embrace them ironically. But now, we have a president we believe in—one we like, respect, and ostensibly want to be or do. But in the end everyone else likes him too! It's like we've all bought tickets to some Miley Cyrus arena show thinking she would somehow never make it big. Now it's hard to be cynical, which is, for better or worse, the only world view we know. It's impossible to feel fringe or even especially unique. While it's not fair to call this a problem, I suppose, it's most certainly an identity crisis, and I'm fascinated to see how it & we shake out.
At some point, I'll stop posting this kind of stuff. But not now. From Judith Warner's most recent op-ed for the NYT"Tears to Remember":
"The glory of Barack Obama is that there are so many different kinds of us who can claim a piece of that 'our.' African-Americans, Democrats, post-boomers, progressives, people who rose from essentially nowhere and through hard work and determination succeeded beyond their parents’ wildest dreams are the most obvious.
But there are also people who respect intelligence and good grammar. People who see their spouse as their 'best friend,' as Barack called Michelle on Tuesday night. People whose children have the same knowing look as Sasha and Malia, who are probably more excited about their puppy than about their father’s presidency."
Let's not talk/think about how long it took me to make this collage at Polyvore.com
Much has been made of Michelle Obama's style, and with good reason: She's mastered the high-low mix (yellow J. Crew cardigans and floral White House Black Market dresses elitist? Yah, no), she wears American (unlike Jackie Kennedy, who preferred Frenchies), and she favors up-and-coming designers (above, black and red Narciso Rodriguez on Tues. and bright floral Thakoon in August) and relatively unknown ones (Cuban-American Isabel Toledo—purple dress above—and Chicago-based Maria Pinto) instead of the stuffy, old-lady styles from peeps like Oscar de la Renta that Hillary and Cindy McCain reach for. Needless to say, the fashion folks heart her and are fighting to get their clothes on her back. And, since whatever she wears turns into retail gold, Oprah Book Club-style, here are the designers (all born in the U.S.A., young, and, by sheer coincidence, multi-culti) that def warrant her attention and resulting sale boost.
Doo-Ri Chung, one of Anna's faves, who took home nice CFDA awards in 2006. Derek Lam, who's been around for a while but never evs gets the attention he deserves. Phillip Lim, whose sensibility would make M.O. even cooler than she already is. And me even more jelly than I already am. Rachel Roy, who's stuff is super sleek 'n chic. (BTW, R.R. is one of the prettiest people EVER, which makes it near impossible not to hate her.)
All runway pics from Style.com, Spring 2009 collections
In return for this sage advice, Michelle, I request only your hand-me-downs.
Tina Brown wrote a really fascinating article about the style and sex appeal of Barack Obama and Sarah Palin. (Cause, let's be honest, they're both pretty—even if SOMEBODY is way less attractive when she opens her mouth.) The piece gets at why Palin will cling to her new look after Tues., why Bill Clinton & John McCain despise Obama's put-together-ness, and why Obama's look plays in Peoria...and the Lower East Side:
"I can’t say if those hand-pressed looking shirts are made of the finest Egyptian cotton or not—maybe they're from Costco—but the point is they suggest it. The simplicity of Obama’s lean, monochrome suits and solid blue ties makes every other pol appear porky and plebeian, old school glad-handers in oversize watches. It’s not just the clothes, of course. It’s the wearer—his carriage, the loping grace of his walk to the stage.
It’s also that the way he’s put together works simultaneously south of the Mason-Dixon line and south of 14th Street. When Obama works a rope line to most people he just looks neatly dressed. But to others he looks as stylishly minimalist as one of those Meatpacking District boutiques where a few shirts are piled artfully on otherwise empty shelves. It’s a little like the Republicans’ dog-whistle rhetoric, in which routine-sounding words like 'worldview' and 'wonder-working' convey a special, coded meaning to Christian conservatives. Obama's look conveys the message of a new world order to the young."
While Palin's look is new to the pol arena, much has been made of Obama fashion in the last year. Last spring (March, me thinks?), Paper magazine did a fashion story inspired by ol' Barry.
Then, earlier this month, he popped up on Paris (that's right: not NYC) runways. Like, literally: Jean-Charles de Castelbajac did an in-your-FACE sequins dress (in yellow, not orange...wah) w/ Obama's mug on it. Granted, this was as much about him as his look, but Bill Clinton sure never got fashion designer attentions.
L: Sonia Rykiel, R: Jean-Charles de Castelbajac by way of NYMag.com, which has more on the Parisian appreciation for B.O. Wow, that takes a double meaning in this case.
It took me until 2008 to realize that writing things on the internet doesn't (necessarily) make you the most annoying person in the universe. Then my friend had a dream that I had a blog where I posted a photo of myself in an orange sequined dress. Hot.
