tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-323692912024-02-07T03:28:27.874-08:00Pseudo CosmoQuod erat faciendumMarcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.comBlogger202125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-45705772118554940382009-01-23T03:39:00.000-08:002009-07-20T23:50:47.471-07:00Over it<div style="text-align: center;">No more here.<br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://notacomplexperson.tumblr.com/">More here</a>.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-79587679892541545962009-01-17T20:46:00.000-08:002009-01-17T20:47:35.730-08:00Envy-Worthy Relationship<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v464/trisha_036/rowensmlamy.jpg"><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v464/trisha_036/rowensmlamy.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Bliss in grunge paradise, methinks.<br /></div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-73317920518603932512009-01-14T13:41:00.000-08:002009-01-14T13:42:28.025-08:00Irony is... When your new turtleneck arrives in the mail, but as you go to pick it up from the lobby of your apartment, the sun comes out and shines gloriously over the entire Bay Area.Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-4165259208610820482009-01-12T01:01:00.000-08:002009-01-12T01:06:49.378-08:00Cyndi Was Right<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh161/Mcqueenie/003m.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 480px;" src="http://i256.photobucket.com/albums/hh161/Mcqueenie/003m.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Alexander McQueen Spring 2009)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Girls get to have all the fun.<br /></div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-88681957672349122892009-01-09T18:03:00.000-08:002009-01-09T18:04:11.238-08:00Modern Times<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img338.imageshack.us/img338/4851/dapwd8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px;" src="http://img338.imageshack.us/img338/4851/dapwd8.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>There is something fundamentally wrong with youth today.<br /></div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com241tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-43954852628767511612009-01-08T17:25:00.000-08:002009-01-08T17:39:06.781-08:00WANT WANT WANT: Leather High-tops<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img309.auctions.yahoo.co.jp/users/8/0/9/2/minikakun2000-img600x450-12310137397spflq93907.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://img309.auctions.yahoo.co.jp/users/8/0/9/2/minikakun2000-img600x450-12310137397spflq93907.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> Oh sweet Jesus, please let me win this auction. I have been wanting these bad boys for almost a year now and I finally have a pair within my grasp.<br /> In recent years, Diet Butcher Slim Skin has become pretty well known for their high-tops. Yeah, sure, everyone raves about the <a href="http://diabro.net/product_info.php/cPath/193_1484/products_id/14595">Lanvin</a> ones, the <a href="http://www.oki-ni.com/invt/ro0076blk">Rick Owens</a> ones, the <a href="http://diabro.net/product_info.php/cPath/193_713/products_id/14912">Balenciaga</a> ones, and (but of course) the <a href="http://www.oki-ni.com/invt/raf0042slv">Raf Simons</a> ones. But for me, these are what sneakers really ought to be. The past few seasons have seen DBSS making high-gloss patent sneakers, metallic foiled sneakers, and some super-sleek horse-leather ones.<br /> But for me, the distressed deerskins from two years ago will always be the holy grail of sneakerdom. Everything about these are <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">just</span> right: the extra-long laces, the careful distressing, the padded ankle, the oversized zipper-pull. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Perfect</span>. Now I just have to cross my fingers and hope that nobody snatches these from me at the last second.Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-44289347113260487772009-01-04T10:53:00.000-08:002009-01-05T02:41:26.293-08:00WANT WANT WANT: To Smell Like Laundry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.blackbirdballard.com/Images/Products/25593_1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;;" src="http://www.blackbirdballard.com/Images/Products/25593_1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">(Commes des Garçons Synthetic Series 6 – Dry Clean Eau de Toilette, $56@</span><a href="http://www.blackbirdballard.com/Comme_des_Garcons_Dry_Clean_EdT_-_Synthetic_Series_6_11423.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Blackbird</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">)</span></div><div><br /></div><div> Commes des Garçons consistently produces some of the most interesting range of fragrances, at least from a conceptual point-of-view. I'm not saying I don't have faith in the wonderful people who run Penhaligon's, but I trust them for tradition, not for innovation. The idea of capturing not simply a smell, but a verb, a location, a context within a fragrance is weird, but fitting. Our own experiences tell us that no other smell makes me remember better than smell. And given how kindly the Korean couple down the street handled by (potentially) bedbug ridden clothing, I can't help but have some good associations.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-73037310377915065372009-01-03T17:43:00.000-08:002009-01-03T22:21:34.088-08:00Frankensuit<img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; height: 550px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/09-01-03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /> I never thought it'd happen, but I'm actually living <span style="font-style: italic;">in</span> my room again; that is, my things are in my room, in the places they ought to be rather than crammed into plastic trash bags. For those of you in the know, this is an absolute wonder, since my bedbug infestation has left me paralyzed with fear for both my both and my closet. But it's a lot like terrorism — if I live in fear of the bedbugs, then the bedbugs have won. Or <span style="font-style: italic;">something</span>. Reclaiming my wardrobe has made me dive back into pieces that I have touched in months, most noticeably any of my more structured and formal jackets and pants. And it got me wondering why, exactly, don't I wear slacks and jackets more often. I suppose the main problem lies in the practicality of it: how worthwhile is it to stuff myself into a pair of slacks and a suit jacket and a shirt if I'm just going to sit on my ass all day in class? But that's a cop out; you can be dressed and be comfortable. Hell, I'm usually just as, if not more, comfortable when I'm wearing more structured and formal clothing than otherwise. The lines of a jacket make a man stand taller, straighter.<div> And now a series of 300 pixel wide images of men that I like/want to have sex with/would enjoy a sandwich with/could learn a lot from/never be able to match/wish were real.</div><div><br /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://www.bowieaudio.com/pictures/duke/images/smoking%20face_jpg.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://www.fashion-forum.org/images/designers/yohji-yamamoto.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e7/Idylls_of_the_King_1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a1/Walt_Whitman_edit_2.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://image.guardian.co.uk/sys-images/Guardian/Pix/arts/2007/05/17/chef460.jpg" alt="" border="0" /><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px;" src="http://www.the-american-interest.com/ai2/images/issues/v2/n6/Kirby1Large.jpg" alt="" border="0" /> I swear to god that I did not intentionally pick all black and white photos, they were just the first nice ones that turned up on my Google Image Search. Seriously.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-59453860585988983842009-01-02T17:08:00.000-08:002009-01-02T17:35:32.861-08:00<center><object width="334" height="326"><param name="movie" value="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><param name="bgColor" value="#ffffff"> <param name="flashvars" value="vu=http://video.ted.com/talks/embed/Jenny8Lee_2008P-embed-PARTNER_high.flv&su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/Jenny8Lee-2008P.embed_thumbnail.jpg&vw=320&vh=240&ap=0&ti=424"><embed src="http://video.ted.com/assets/player/swf/EmbedPlayer.swf" pluginspace="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" bgcolor="#ffffff" width="334" height="326" allowfullscreen="true" flashvars="vu=http://video.ted.com/talks/embed/Jenny8Lee_2008P-embed-PARTNER_high.flv&su=http://images.ted.com/images/ted/tedindex/embed-posters/Jenny8Lee-2008P.embed_thumbnail.jpg&vw=320&vh=240&ap=0&ti=424"></embed></object></center><div><br /></div> <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jennifer_8._Lee">Jennifer 8. Lee</a> would be one of my favorite writers even if she didn't write about food, one of my favorite things. But she does and she does it damn well, with the same keen and childish curiosity that deftly straddles the edge between cheeky and puerile. Intellectual girl crush status.Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-66223004954880799012008-12-18T00:29:00.000-08:002008-12-18T00:33:47.277-08:00Twilight Ode to Yogurt<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images.plumgoodfood.com/images/Kristin/mainstream/lg/1119.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 175px; height: 175px;" src="http://images.plumgoodfood.com/images/Kristin/mainstream/lg/1119.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I love you so fucking much, yogurt.<br /></div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-47569074381098793552008-12-08T23:06:00.000-08:002008-12-18T00:34:30.993-08:00WANT WANT WANT: Babies<img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; " src="http://www.why-lip.com/zulupapuwa/main.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); "><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.why-lip.com/zulupapuwa/03/01.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(255, 255, 255);"> Walter Van Beirendonck makes kid's clothes? What the fuck? This is the most awesome thing ever. I need to have a bajillion babies right now, just so I can dress them in this shit. I already go nuts whenever I pass by the baby/kids section at Target, so this is nearly unbearable. I am ready to grow an ovary just to feel it explode in maternal need.</span></span></a><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.why-lip.com/zulupapuwa/03/01.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><br /></a></div></span><img style="text-decoration: underline;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; height: 400px; " src="http://www.why-lip.com/zulupapuwa/03/01.jpg" border="0" alt="" /><div> These tights are unbelievable. Smiles? Eyes? Smiley eyes? God damn. And contrast heel and toe? <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Ridiculous</span>.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.why-lip.com/zulupapuwa/images/14.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;height: 400px;" src="http://www.why-lip.com/zulupapuwa/images/14.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><div> And let's not forget that this is translated from his last menswear collection; entitled "eXplicit" and presented at Pitti Uomo. That leaf skirt began as some mask on a random model's face. Let's not forget how that girl on the right is fucking working that pout for everything she has got. Bitch knows how hard the economy is and wants to prove her worth as a model.</div></div></div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-66329720519413461012008-12-07T23:25:00.000-08:002008-12-07T23:26:15.121-08:00Well. I have no ambitions other than to finish.<div><br /></div><div> That's pretty much it.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-64698541659647758182008-11-27T03:20:00.000-08:002008-11-27T17:45:06.070-08:00How Am I Supposed to Feel? Catching up with<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> Return to Cookie Mountain</span> in a spartan room. Recently stripped walls and empty halls and not much else. There's also the knowledge that I'm going to be living out of a motley collection of trash and Ziploc bags for two weeks. And the unrelenting sensation that there is a swarm of insects <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">within</span> my mattress and that the only thing stopping them from greedily feasting on my veins is a few sheets of plastic.<div><br /></div><div> I told Connie that I didn't experience my usual post-purchase bliss after picking up some Fiorentini + Baker boots in the city. It was a bad sign. Anytime that shopping fails to evoke some sensation of joy/elation/nigh-orgasmic happiness typically indicates that something is very wrong. And I still can't quite wrap my head around the series of events that have been so very unfortunate. I'm relying upon my recent aid to a could-have-been fatal car not-quite-accident and my forbearance with this current trial as some sort of good karma orgy; that is to say, I am in the thick of so much shitty shit that the cosmos probably — indeed, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">must</span> — cut me some slack in the future. I'm thinking about this whole ordeal as a sort of karmic investment.</div><div><br /></div><div> My Thanksgiving is not going to be a Thanksgiving. It's going to be me sitting in old clothes on an old couch in an old apartment that just won't let me go. Angry letters and lawyer threats have failed to extricate me from my landlord's grip and all I really want to do is eat an entire pizza by myself. Oh wait, I already did that.</div><div><br /></div><div> Nothing in the recent past has done nearly as much to convince me that I absolutely, positively must leave this place by any and means necessary. The faceplates stuck to the wall with a lazy slash of paint, the circuit breaks that break at the slightest provocation, the dishwasher that fails to wash dishes. It's like Godot designed my apartment to be the least livable space possible. It's only by sheer effort that the three of us had managed to transform this place into something even remotely resembling an apartment.</div><div><br /></div><div> There's nothing cathartic about this. This is why people get old. This is why people have high blood pressure. This is why people grow cynical. This is why people get into credit card debt. This is why people dream of buying, not renting. Just when you've dug to the bottom of the barrel, past the first three layers of frustration, dissatisfaction, and complete, mind-numbing anger, then you realize that there's actually a wormhole that leads to a whole parallel dimension of bullshit. Of bullshit apartments and bullshit building managers and bullshit things like bedbugs. I remember somebody telling me this was adulthood or something. Yeah, right.</div><div><br /></div><div> This is just bad luck.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-51102227099392856762008-10-26T10:34:00.000-07:002008-10-26T10:34:00.763-07:00Smells Like...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.johnvarvatosfragrance.com/images/products/Fragrance/vintage_lrg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 323px; height: 431px;" src="http://www.johnvarvatosfragrance.com/images/products/Fragrance/vintage_lrg.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.johnvarvatosfragrance.com/vintage%20eau%20de%20toilette.aspx?campaign=jvggl&OVKEY=john%20varvatos%20vintage"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Vintage eau de toilette</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"> by John Varvatos</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div> ...passing by a carpenter, the quiet whirr of a saw like a reassurance of activity. Pulling out a well-worn dollar bill from a wallet. A mild shower after a run through the brisk fall breeze. How your favorite leather chair squeaks ever so comfortingly when you rest in it. The melting of ice cubes in a glass of scotch.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-63498889409452210262008-10-25T22:21:00.000-07:002008-10-25T22:22:59.480-07:00The Truth Is<center><object width="300" height="110"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/0pMQ3_nQLc/aus=false/"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/0pMQ3_nQLc/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed><a href="http://www.imeem.com/stareyedpunk/music/7pyBBD7S/the_weepies_somebody_loved/">Somebody Loved - The Weepies</a></object></center><center style="text-align: left;"><br /></center><center style="text-align: left;"> So, apparently, I'm a big, blustering vagina that cries at just about everything. Also, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Changeling</span> is good. Please go see it.</center>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-7553539266724038542008-10-24T09:19:00.000-07:002008-10-24T18:07:24.146-07:00WANT WANT WANT: Nau Mélange Knit Sweater<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nau.com/images/pdp/main/308m790_431_1_18.jpg"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.nau.com/images/pdp/main/308m790_431_1_18.jpg" border="0" /></a> As times get leaner and pursestrings grow tighter, I've found myself getting pickier and pickier with my purchases. But pieces like <a href="http://www.nau.com/">Nau's</a> variegated V-neck sweater <span class="Apple-style-span" style="FONT-STYLE: italic">(<a href="http://www.nau.com/mens/categories/insulation/variegated-v-neck-308M790.html">$235</a>)</span> in several shades of mélange cashmere/angora blends. Produced in accordance with the strictest environmental, sustainability, and performance standards around, it's hard not to see pieces like this as a genuine investment. I'm glad the folks at Nau (after a fortunate re-injection of capital) have come back in full force with their trademark blend of sporty, chic, and super smart.Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-10822186878914699182008-10-19T11:38:00.000-07:002008-10-19T22:30:19.047-07:00"She's beautiful"<div><blockquote><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Yes, some men come to ogle the candidate, too. “She’s beautiful,” said a man wearing a John Deere T-shirt in Weirs Beach. “I came here to look at her,” he said, and his admiration for Ms. Palin’s appearance became more and more animated. Sheepish over his ogling, he declined to give his real name (“Just call me ‘John Deere’ ”).</span></span></blockquote><blockquote style="text-align: right;"><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2008/10/19/us/politics/19palin.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">-The New York Times</span></a></blockquote></div>Welcome to the modern American political discourse.Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-34254466279456536142008-10-03T01:05:00.000-07:002008-10-03T02:07:21.514-07:00Wherein I Fulfill One Promise<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-10-02.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;height: 600px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-10-02.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/newhair.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/newhair.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> I told you that drastic changes were in the works. After a long period of servitude to the massive mane that kept me weighted down, I decided to rebel with a shorter razor cut. I still wanted some shape and movement, so we left it kind of long. I'm still playing with it.<div> And yes, I know that I look like a little boy. I'm okay with that.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-78585529534886989462008-09-28T21:12:00.000-07:002008-09-28T23:48:24.480-07:00Dramatics<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-09-28a.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;height: 600px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-09-28a.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-09-28b.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;height: 485px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-09-28b.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> A show, hastily cobbled together, and frenetically staged. I paid little attention to myself, resolving to pick clothing that was <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">easy</span> more than anything else. All craziness aside, it was extremely satisfying. All about that hustle, son.Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-40507653794175566022008-09-26T09:00:00.000-07:002008-09-26T09:00:00.753-07:00WANT WANT WANT: Manly Jewelry<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.oaknyc.com/assets/images/gilesleatherwrap403287_large.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.oaknyc.com/assets/images/gilesleatherwrap403287_large.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Giles & Brother leather wrap bracelet with hook, $122 @ <a href="http://www.oaknyc.com/men/new-items/giles-leather-bracelet">Oak</a></span></span></div><div><br /></div><div> I'd like to think that in our day and age, we're past the point where men find the idea of jewelry too inherently feminine. There was an era (the landscape of memory is dominated by DIESEL and D&G stamped on an endless sea of dogtags and big watches and bracelets) when men felt the need to overly display their masculinity, needing something big and shiny and sharp, as though to make their jewelry <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">anti-jewelry</span>. In recent years, menswear has opened itself to a much larger notion of what men can wear. The spectrum from dandy to derelict (as espoused by everyone from Paul Smith to Rick Owens) has also brought a sense of refinement; the fashionable teens of the 90s have turned into the tasteful, restrained men of the 2000s. How else can I explain the emergence of such sophisticated work like Philip Crangi's collaboration with his sister Giles — Giles & Brother? Their ability to marry different materials, ideas, and aesthetics into one distinctly masculine vision of jewelry has got me itching for an excuse to blow a wad of cash on some new trinkets..</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-17225351655580494782008-09-24T23:23:00.000-07:002008-09-24T23:34:05.357-07:00Smells Like...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.penhaligons.co.uk/images/product/main/191505A.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px;" src="http://www.penhaligons.co.uk/images/product/main/191505A.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://www.penhaligons.co.uk/shop/fragrance/fragrance-collections/endymion/endymion-cologne-100ml-496853.html">Endymion</a> by Penhaligon's</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div> ...a quiet day in a café. The stirring of a latte matches the revolutions of the lazy fan overhead. Newspapers, folded and refolded, haphazardly lie on a table. Worn leather chairs quietly protest as warm bodies leave for another cup of coffee. Occasionally, the steam wand hisses. A silent, comfortable sort of romance.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-32846443970612411002008-09-18T22:00:00.000-07:002008-09-19T01:41:40.951-07:00The Rise of the Douche Since when did you have to be a total douchebag to be cool? What happened here? Skimming over the Internets, I've noticed several trends, but most of them can be considered a subset of the ultimate trend: being a douchebag. The Oakland Art Museum recently had an exhibit on the birth of "cool"; that is, the concept of "cool" and how it was first defined, how it began to spread, and finally how it came to be commercially packaged. I think I've hit upon a similar notion. In mathematical terms:<div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">American Apparel</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">+</div><div style="text-align: center;">some form of irony</div><div style="text-align: center;">+</div><div style="text-align: center;">alcohol</div><div style="text-align: center;">+</div><div style="text-align: center;">affected androgyny</div><div style="text-align: center;">+</div><div style="text-align: center;">douchebag behavior</div><div style="text-align: center;">=</div><div style="text-align: center;">cool</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> How did we let this happen? I use "we" in a very loose sense, seeing as how I would like to think that I've done <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">nothing</span> contribute to the creation of this soul-sucking scene. I guess you can say that there's always been an attempt by every burgeoning generation to define itself, to set itself apart from the loins that birthed it, but this is just getting out of hand. The namechecks, the gratuitous drunkenness, the LA-manufactured uniform, the refusal to acknowledge the 80s as the vortex of tacky costume that it was — it's just too much.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> Some folks would like to say that I'm talking about "hipsters" (Adbusters has gone to <a href="http://www.adbusters.org/magazine/79/hipster.html">great lengths</a> discussing the word), but I don't know what exactly I'm talking about. There are some folks that I see, that I sense, that I can practically smell who would fall very much into this categorization, but it's more than just what people have been wearing. Flipping through any catalog, any channel, or any product geared towards youth and you don't see anything of any real value, in either social, intellectual, or aesthetic terms. To borrow a phrase, they all "rook arike".</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> Am I part of the problem? Maybe. The problem with discussing the problem is that to engage in any dialogue about the subject requires you to employ the vernacular involved. So even if I were to use the word "hipster", and I don't necessarily always do, but if I were, I would have to talk about it in terms of my own role within the greater orbit of hipsterdom. This doesn't change the fact, however, that the majority of people who are being tagged "cool", for better or for worse, behave in a way that unequivocally demands the label "douchebag".</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"> This certainly isn't the most articulate polemic issued about the topic. In fact, I'm not very sure what my topic really is. But I do know that there's something going wrong here. When you need to guzzle as much alcohol as possible, make out with as many members of the same sex (despite your oft-repeated love of the opposite one), restrict your wardrobe to a narrow set of ideas, and simultaneously befriend and alienate everyone you see in order to prove your "cool" factor, then there's something wrong with "cool", you douchebag, you.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-27015190552971370592008-09-13T09:49:00.000-07:002008-09-13T09:49:01.394-07:00Lumiere<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.alexandchloe.com/current_collection/sunglasses/alex_and_chloe_sunglass_lookbook_pg_23.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px;" src="http://www.alexandchloe.com/current_collection/sunglasses/alex_and_chloe_sunglass_lookbook_pg_23.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">Swoon</span>.</div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-12415507166295186102008-09-13T00:23:00.000-07:002008-09-13T00:42:57.717-07:00Play on Gray<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-09-11.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;height: 600px;" src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/08-09-11.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a> I enjoy dressing up. Comparing my time spent in shirts and slacks to my time in tee and jeans reveals a noticeable dearth of energy and money spent towards defining how I like to dress when I'm supposed to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">dress</span>. Now that I've passed the halfway point, I feel like it's time to start gearing up for what's next (knowing what's next is an entirely separate matter).Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32369291.post-10936777882040684802008-09-05T17:53:00.000-07:002008-09-05T19:05:16.899-07:00Jonathan Saunders for Target<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/saunderscollage.jpg"><img style="text-align: justify;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; " src="http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v13/fondue/Blog%20photos/saunderscollage.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><div style="text-align: justify;"> A friend recently noted the dearth of discussion about womenswear and I blame school work, magazine work, and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; ">work</span> work for my inability to muster up anything worth saying. But while helping <a href="http://prettylegit.blogspot.com/">Connie</a> pack for her trip to Fashion Week, we wound up talking a lot about high-end designers and their low-end collaborations. Succeeding Richard Chai as the latest Target Go International Designer, British colorblocking extraordinaire Jonathan Saunders has created a whole range of looks that take his signature aesthetic and tones it down a little.<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"> This isn't to say that it's watered-down Saunders; the prints on some of these pieces are definitely out of the mainstream tastes. But with more manageable silhouettes and a quite a few separates, I'm sure everyone is going to find something they like. What <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">really</span> interests me, though, are those boots that the model is wearing. What can I say, I obviously have a thing for <a href="http://pseudocosmo.blogspot.com/2007/11/god-greed-for.html">strapped boots</a>. Now if only I could find a pair that would work for me...</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">(Images from </span><a href="http://www.nylonmag.com/?section=article&parid=1922"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Nylon</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"> and </span><a href="http://nymag.com/daily/fashion/2008/09/images_of_jonathan_saunderss_t.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">NYMag</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">)</span></span></div>Marcushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00177378147346542468noreply@blogger.com0