ANYWAY, it's written/compiled by this art director slash illustrator chica Leanne Shapton, and there was an article in the NYT about her and her project today. Her take on consumption and the thing-filled nature of our lives (which she's not necessarily criticizing here) just make me want to read and own and hold this thing more:
“It’s sort of about how reliant we are on our things to define us,” Ms. Shapton said, acknowledging that there is a strain of what she described as somewhat “suffocating discernment” running through the protagonists’ lives.
“But I wanted to balance that with a pretty genuine love of very private meaning,” she said, adding that most of the things put up for sale are “those kinds of things that mean everything to the person who owned them and nothing to anyone else.”
Some such things that mean nothing to nobody from Important Artifacts...gotta love the Nuvaring.
Unfortunately, the internet is being a total fucking slacker and is serving up like no pictures of said publication. GAWD. Thankfully, there is this video that gives a better sense of the layouts and content without spoiling all the fun:
This rad line of clothing called Something Else by Natalie Wood and b-day tix to West Side Story on B'way from T reminded me how much I heart the REAL Natalie Wood (no offense, up-and-coming designer), especially the early-to-mid sixties, bobbed, Love with the Proper Stranger era of her life. She's obviously one of my not-so-secret style icons (and one who makes me take pride in my paleness, I might add). Behold:
1962
1964
1964
1964 poster for Love with the Proper Stranger, alongside Steve McQueen. HOT.
I have been ignoring the fact that you have a girlfriend for some time now because, quite frankly, it hurts too much. I have instead been swooning over pictures of you and your Michael Cera-ness in my new favorite magazine, Teen Vogue. But today, Michael Cera, it was brought to my attention by my friend R that said girlfriend Charlyne Yi (also known as "the stoner girlfriend in Knocked Up"—this is a quote because everyone IDs her in these exact words) is 33 years old. I am, as I'm sure you can tell, very upset by this, and for multiple reasons. First off, Michael Cera, there is the fact that she looks even younger than me, and I look very young. I was thus deceived into thinking that she was a nice young random indie girl your own age, and I DO NOT like to be deceived, especially by people I love. (This is where we overlook the fact that this is meant to be a letter to M.C. and allow the true four—or is it seven?—readers of this blog to examine a photo and nod in agreement, ideally emphatically.)
What's more, the relationship is creepy. No offense, Michael Cera, but it is not normal for 33-year-old girls to date 21-year-old boys. When you are 33, you will realize this. No, you will. To say that you are the Smith Jerrod to her Samantha Jones does not appropriately convey the sinking feeling I get in my stomach to think of this. It's more like the tingle that runs up my spine when I consider Woody Allen and Soon-Yi Previn.
Michael Cera, I thought I knew you, and you have disappointed me. That's right: disappointed.
Ten years ago—five even—American women’s fashion was alllll about Marc Jacobs (and Marc by Marc Jacobs and, eventually, Jacobs by Marc by Marc Jacobs, the ridiculously cheeky line sold at the Bleecker Street bin shop).
Now, the U.S. scene is officially about, well, China—or at least adorable dudes of Chinese descent. There are the well-established elder statesmen of the realm, Peter Som and Derek Lam. Then came Phillip Lim, who won the CFDA for Emerging Talent in Womenswear in 2007 (a stinkin’ big deal, ifya don’t know). Then Alexander Wang sashayed into the picture, winning the ’08 CFDA/Vogue Fashion Fund award (another wowzers prize) and, most recently Jason Wu, of Michelle Obama dress-making fame, hit the big times.
What gives? Why is it that the Chinese & Chinese-American guys have cornered the market on all that is chic and modern in the U.S. of A.? I’m fascinated, clearly.
This U.K. graphic designer Nikki Farquharson (who does stuff for Missbehave mag) produced a poster series called "Rebuilding Expressions" that gives classic proverbs the ol' 2009 facelift. I'm not a huge fan of the font—makes me feel like I need to attend the School for Kids Who Can’t Read Good and Wanna Learn To Do Other Things Good Too—but the concept and the updates are super smart. Take a look:
Impossible to read, I know. Click the image to enlarge.
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.
