What do you think of this wifebeater/garter combo from Kiki de Montparnasse?
I'm on the fence.
I'm on the fence.
Greetings friends. Many of you that know me know of my storied obsession
with the Rolling Stones. If you are a friend from way back, you will regard
my sixth grade enchantment with Tattoo You, which played in the background
at many boy/girl parties (that's what we called 'em back them) and supplied
me with endless joy. The second side of Tattoo You is still one of my all
time favorites in life. On another note, you all know Exile On Main Street was rereleased yesterday
with some new tracks, 10 to be exact. It's beyond a cliché to say this album
is a desert island must have, but for me, there is no album I am more in
love with. Full stop. There is so much soul and grit and sexiness and
layered lushness in this amazing work of genius. The newly released and
previously unheard tracks are pretty sick too. And the alternate version of
"Loving Cup" is fucking fantastic. This album was born out of a self
imposed exile (taxes are a bitch, mates) to Keith's mansion in the south of
France called Nellcote. This was also a time of Keith's now legendary
descent into a hell of a heroin habit. Which is amazing when you listen to
songs like "Happy". But the haziness and denseness and sheer raggedness of
this great rock album is all part of what makes the Stones the great band
they are. What I can say is there are Beatles fans, and then there are Rolling Stones
fans, and that's that. My husband is more Beatles than Stones for instance,
but I ain't mad at him for it. Sure it's possible to like both, but that
swagger and nastiness and rock and roll raunchy of the Stones speaks to some
of us more than others. The Stones incredible style and innate rock and roll
hipness was the stuff of legend. Yes they are older now and a little bit
tweaky looking, but look at Mick and Keith back in the day and I challenge
you to find anyone who can touch them now in terms of true coolness and
their jolie laide in the purest form. These pics from those times say it all
really. And I love the cover art for the album with photographs shot by
Robert Frank. I really could write a whole other post on how great their
album art has always been. Go get yourself a copy of this amazing work of genius. Give it a listen
again, and for Stones virgins, enjoy it for the first time. The Stones are a
huge part of my DNA and I will always always love them. I love the Beatles
too, but they don't make my insides hurt. And that's what's up this rock and
roll Wednesday in the MIA. Peace. XO
with the Rolling Stones. If you are a friend from way back, you will regard
my sixth grade enchantment with Tattoo You, which played in the background
at many boy/girl parties (that's what we called 'em back them) and supplied
me with endless joy. The second side of Tattoo You is still one of my all
time favorites in life. On another note, you all know Exile On Main Street was rereleased yesterday
with some new tracks, 10 to be exact. It's beyond a cliché to say this album
is a desert island must have, but for me, there is no album I am more in
love with. Full stop. There is so much soul and grit and sexiness and
layered lushness in this amazing work of genius. The newly released and
previously unheard tracks are pretty sick too. And the alternate version of
"Loving Cup" is fucking fantastic. This album was born out of a self
imposed exile (taxes are a bitch, mates) to Keith's mansion in the south of
France called Nellcote. This was also a time of Keith's now legendary
descent into a hell of a heroin habit. Which is amazing when you listen to
songs like "Happy". But the haziness and denseness and sheer raggedness of
this great rock album is all part of what makes the Stones the great band
they are. What I can say is there are Beatles fans, and then there are Rolling Stones
fans, and that's that. My husband is more Beatles than Stones for instance,
but I ain't mad at him for it. Sure it's possible to like both, but that
swagger and nastiness and rock and roll raunchy of the Stones speaks to some
of us more than others. The Stones incredible style and innate rock and roll
hipness was the stuff of legend. Yes they are older now and a little bit
tweaky looking, but look at Mick and Keith back in the day and I challenge
you to find anyone who can touch them now in terms of true coolness and
their jolie laide in the purest form. These pics from those times say it all
really. And I love the cover art for the album with photographs shot by
Robert Frank. I really could write a whole other post on how great their
album art has always been. Go get yourself a copy of this amazing work of genius. Give it a listen
again, and for Stones virgins, enjoy it for the first time. The Stones are a
huge part of my DNA and I will always always love them. I love the Beatles
too, but they don't make my insides hurt. And that's what's up this rock and
roll Wednesday in the MIA. Peace. XO
Happy Tuesday, my pretties. In my endless pursuit for comfortable shoes, I give you Tom's. You all know
Tom's of course- a bit of a hipster staple these days but loving these
numbers here and love that every time I buy a pair a less fortunate soul
gets one too...sequins and comfort. Spotted them on a chic type in Tribeca
at Whole Foods and was envious. Loving a lot. Ordered them up in gold from
the Tom's site. ( http://www.toms.com/) Will get back to you in terms of the
cute and comfort factor...how cute is that Tom PS?
Oh and these black grosgrain ones were made exclusively for Bergdorf Goodman
and Neiman Marcus and can be pre-ordered so might as well buy those too.
Very chic I think in an almost post modern Ninja kind of way. I dig. And
that's what's up this soupy Twofer Tuesday in the MIA. (Everyone loves a
twofer) XO
Tom's of course- a bit of a hipster staple these days but loving these
numbers here and love that every time I buy a pair a less fortunate soul
gets one too...sequins and comfort. Spotted them on a chic type in Tribeca
at Whole Foods and was envious. Loving a lot. Ordered them up in gold from
the Tom's site. ( http://www.toms.com/) Will get back to you in terms of the
cute and comfort factor...how cute is that Tom PS?
Oh and these black grosgrain ones were made exclusively for Bergdorf Goodman
and Neiman Marcus and can be pre-ordered so might as well buy those too.
Very chic I think in an almost post modern Ninja kind of way. I dig. And
that's what's up this soupy Twofer Tuesday in the MIA. (Everyone loves a
twofer) XO
Hey you and you and you. I've been traveling like the dervish but I'm
slowly making my way back to the MIA. It's been a great trip...but nothing
could prepare me for the amazing group of kids I got to meet at my cousin's
graduation from Carnegie Mellon this weekend. It was truly inspiring to be
around so many brilliant young minds. I'm choked up thinking of it now.
college in general, it was a real thrill to come to a storied academic
institution and witness the incredible energy of a group of kids who had
their whole lives ahead of them. I am feeling this generation is getting a
really shit rap- I'm not sure there's something so wrong with pushing for
what you want at a young age as well as having the confidence to follow your
dreams. Yes these kids are texting and tweeting and connecting in a new and
admittedly scary way (at the expense of real human connection), but man,
they are a passionate bunch of responsible humans that I would bet the farm
on that they will indeed shift many paradigms as well as fix the mess of the
world that most of us grew up with, and that they are growing up with as
well. I sat with my 22 year old cousin and chatted about his robotics thesis and
PHD plans over a fantastic meal (check out Soba in Pittsburgh if you ever
pass through...so good) and recalled what I was doing at 22- which was being
extraordinarily blasé and more than nihilist about my future and partying
like tomorrow didn't matter. Would I change any of that? Nope. Had a blast
and wouldn't change a thing. But the achievements of my cuz and his fellow
graduates at CMU and all over the country and world are no joke and are
quite the opposite of my generation's apathy and innate cynicism. They are a
force to be reckoned with, and we have to start listening to what they have
to say. I talked to a student who wanted to produce video games, one who
majored in cognitive science, and many others involved in some serious game
changing shit. I have to say sitting on that field as the procession began,
I got super choked up thinking that all of us are responsible for making the
world a better place for these young adults to live in, and that perhaps
they will have a huge hand in making it better for generations after that. I watched all of their faces and accessed that amazing feeling that comes
with having your whole life ahead of you- with limitless possibilities and
an insane amount of hope. I'm not counting myself out of that kind of
thinking- I think we all need to savor the new and not close any doors in
life and just keep expanding upon what we know- I felt so connected to a
revolution of thinking this weekend and it was an experience I won't soon
forget. I watched as student after student received their diplomas- many had
achieved so much, including my cousin, at such a young age. These are not
the kids that partied their way through school, these were the ones with an
incredible learning lust and deep need to understand the inner workings of
just about everything. I walked away from all of this feeling very hopeful- it is so important for
all of us who to take our collective experiences and not dismiss those that
are more fresh faced and younger than us, but to empower them to keep doing
the amazing work that they do. If you have family or friends graduating in
2010, hats off to all of the grads. They have achieved much in their young
lives. I have no doubt they are going to take it to a new level on this
thing called Planet Earth. And don't count yourself out for being able to
affect change and embrace technology either and contribute in a real way
too. We all have much to offer to each other, regardless of our age.
Congrats to the grads and the class of 2010...what an amazing weekend and so
grateful I attended... And that's what's up this rainy cold Monday in Pittsburgh, PA. Soon I fly
home and I'm super excited to get back to it. I'll be blogging about less
academic pursuits this week as per usual, but felt the need to share and let
you know that more than shoes and manners and the well heeled inspire me. XO
So I haven't been sleeping...
Guess it was all the 212 stimuli. Now that I am in the 215 all is well.Phew.
Hey luvs. I am on the train headed to Illadelph to see the fam. I do love
train travel. Find it very relaxing. I had a porter help me with my enormous
suitcase and bypassed the frantic rush for seats. It was divine. Anyhoo, let's talk hotel bars. I am absolutely stark raving mad for them.
One of my favs of all time was the bar at the old Gramercy before it became
all swish. It was the kind of bar Mrs. Robinson would hang in- it felt
slightly naughty and seedy and oh so lovely. The bartenders were characters
and the cocktail waitresses were mean. I loved it so. Enter the bar at the Jane Hotel, at the corner of the West Side Highway and
Jane Street in the idyllic West Village. A friend of mine met me there last
night and it did not disappoint. You see, the best hotel bars are the ones
that reside in an establishment with a storied past. The Jane is such a
spot. Apparently it was a flophouse for sailors and their ladies of ill
repute. Gotta love that,right? Now it is much more trendy but still feels very old world, if not a bit
seedy. There is also an outpost of the lovely Café Gitane there as well.The
bell hop actually wears a bell hop uniform from back in the day, and once
you enter the bar, you immediately know you are in a place steeped in
classic New York weirdness. I love this place. Did I mention they'll rent
you a room for 99 bucks? You should go to there. They play great music of the new wave and rock oddity variety. And they make
a nice whiskey sour. Next time I'm in NYC, let's meet there, capiche? And that's what's up this train travelin' Thursday en route to the 215.
XO
train travel. Find it very relaxing. I had a porter help me with my enormous
suitcase and bypassed the frantic rush for seats. It was divine. Anyhoo, let's talk hotel bars. I am absolutely stark raving mad for them.
One of my favs of all time was the bar at the old Gramercy before it became
all swish. It was the kind of bar Mrs. Robinson would hang in- it felt
slightly naughty and seedy and oh so lovely. The bartenders were characters
and the cocktail waitresses were mean. I loved it so. Enter the bar at the Jane Hotel, at the corner of the West Side Highway and
Jane Street in the idyllic West Village. A friend of mine met me there last
night and it did not disappoint. You see, the best hotel bars are the ones
that reside in an establishment with a storied past. The Jane is such a
spot. Apparently it was a flophouse for sailors and their ladies of ill
repute. Gotta love that,right? Now it is much more trendy but still feels very old world, if not a bit
seedy. There is also an outpost of the lovely Café Gitane there as well.The
bell hop actually wears a bell hop uniform from back in the day, and once
you enter the bar, you immediately know you are in a place steeped in
classic New York weirdness. I love this place. Did I mention they'll rent
you a room for 99 bucks? You should go to there. They play great music of the new wave and rock oddity variety. And they make
a nice whiskey sour. Next time I'm in NYC, let's meet there, capiche? And that's what's up this train travelin' Thursday en route to the 215.
XO
I mean... The Met does it for me. Every time. I sauntered uptown in the rain this
morning, hangover in tow, and ruined my new shoes. Oh well. Merde. Upon entering the Met I forgot about all of that. The Met is a powerful
thing to me- I discover something new every time and for that I am thankful
for its existence. I went up to see the Costume Show on the American Woman
as well as the Picasso retrospective. I was not disappointed. Picasso show was amazing. I must admit- I am more a fan of the life and
lusts of Picasso than I have ever been of his work. Yes he was beyond a
genius, but he doesn't make my soul sing. I will say the linocuts were
incredible- had never seen his linoleum pieces before and I surely love
them. That was a treat. The costume show was gorgeous, but had some issues in my mind. The show went
from about 1840-1940 and traced the lineage of fashion "types" over that
period from the heiress to the Gibson Girl to the Flapper to the Suffragette
to the screen siren with more in between I'm sure. The clothes were
surprisingly fresh in feel- in particular the gowns of Charles James and
Madame Gres were beyond. What sort of bugged me was the weird timeframe
(kind of a chopped up period- what happened after 1940- I would make a case
that the 60s were an incredibly liberating period for women in particular)
and the text accompanying the show- basically that the American woman is
slim and athletic, with the exception of the screen siren who is somewhat
curvier- the text claims these are the two fashion prototypes to this day.
Hmm. I think there is so much in between but understand this is fashion yet
still...still. The use of film incorporated throughout was nice though- as
well as the wild wigs of Julien D'Ys on the mannequins. What was also beyond was strolling through the Met and falling back in love
with Impressionism and traditional figurative portrait painting in general.
I am so obsessed with l'arte moderne these days, I've simply forgotten how
much I love Manet and Matisse and am beyond fond of Alfred Steven's amazing
"In the Studio". (See attached). It's so stunning and gorgeous and makes me
well up a bit. In the midst of all of this newfangled techy stuff, I again
go back to the classics that made me love art in the first place as a young
girl. I am not sure anything can rival that feeling of strolling casually through
the Met by oneself- it's a simple pleasure but one I can do over and over
again. I also love the suits of armor and love the medieval collections.
Spending the day at the Met is like seeing your dearest BF. Always a
gorgeous pleasure. And that's what's up this Wednesday night, my last night
in NY for the moment. Off to Philly tomorrow. XO
morning, hangover in tow, and ruined my new shoes. Oh well. Merde. Upon entering the Met I forgot about all of that. The Met is a powerful
thing to me- I discover something new every time and for that I am thankful
for its existence. I went up to see the Costume Show on the American Woman
as well as the Picasso retrospective. I was not disappointed. Picasso show was amazing. I must admit- I am more a fan of the life and
lusts of Picasso than I have ever been of his work. Yes he was beyond a
genius, but he doesn't make my soul sing. I will say the linocuts were
incredible- had never seen his linoleum pieces before and I surely love
them. That was a treat. The costume show was gorgeous, but had some issues in my mind. The show went
from about 1840-1940 and traced the lineage of fashion "types" over that
period from the heiress to the Gibson Girl to the Flapper to the Suffragette
to the screen siren with more in between I'm sure. The clothes were
surprisingly fresh in feel- in particular the gowns of Charles James and
Madame Gres were beyond. What sort of bugged me was the weird timeframe
(kind of a chopped up period- what happened after 1940- I would make a case
that the 60s were an incredibly liberating period for women in particular)
and the text accompanying the show- basically that the American woman is
slim and athletic, with the exception of the screen siren who is somewhat
curvier- the text claims these are the two fashion prototypes to this day.
Hmm. I think there is so much in between but understand this is fashion yet
still...still. The use of film incorporated throughout was nice though- as
well as the wild wigs of Julien D'Ys on the mannequins. What was also beyond was strolling through the Met and falling back in love
with Impressionism and traditional figurative portrait painting in general.
I am so obsessed with l'arte moderne these days, I've simply forgotten how
much I love Manet and Matisse and am beyond fond of Alfred Steven's amazing
"In the Studio". (See attached). It's so stunning and gorgeous and makes me
well up a bit. In the midst of all of this newfangled techy stuff, I again
go back to the classics that made me love art in the first place as a young
girl. I am not sure anything can rival that feeling of strolling casually through
the Met by oneself- it's a simple pleasure but one I can do over and over
again. I also love the suits of armor and love the medieval collections.
Spending the day at the Met is like seeing your dearest BF. Always a
gorgeous pleasure. And that's what's up this Wednesday night, my last night
in NY for the moment. Off to Philly tomorrow. XO
Well it is in New York, anyway. So I have loads to say on the city- the shopping, the insane coolness of the
Ace Hotel, the wacky iron or fiberglass anthropomorphism perched
precariously around Madison Square Park in the form of naked male statues by
Antony Gormley. It's all too much and it's wonderful and I'm overwhelmed but
shall post about these things and more at some point. However, let's talk about my feet. My aching freaking feet. I've been an
avid indoor cyclist and yoga devotee for some time now, as well as a regular
flip flop wearer. Some chicks won't go out without heels- I am quite the
opposite. The flatter the shoe the better for me. I love to feel grounded I
suppose. And I'm a tragic klutz. But back to the feet. I'm walking around New York like an old bag. It's sad.
I have been looking for comfortable shoes forever now and can't find
anything I like. At all. I have an aversion to wearing sneakers outside of
the gym. It all stems from a French boyfriend in the college days who told
me it was tacky for women to wear sneakers. Sacre bleu...what's a girl to
do? I disagree, however. A lot of chicks look mad cute in kicks. Just not this
gal. I can't pull it off. I feel like a clown. I even bought a chic, slim
pair of Y3's and still feel so not right in them. I then bought some soft
Dr. Scholl's jobs and they still hurt too. Then I bought these really cool
Bass oxfords, which are marginally better, but still not quite there. Which brings me to yesterday. I got my hair cut (and I mean CUT) at my fav
spot in town with the best girls- Siobhan for cut and Ellie for color over
at Arrojo Studios on Varick (big ups to those two. I love them to death). I'm sitting there with a glaze on my head when I spy a killer pair of white
leather moccasins on a girl getting her foils taken out in the shampoo bowl
next to me. I'm staring and practically drooling on them so much so that she
shoots me a nervous look. I tell her I am mad for the mocs and ask where she
got them. She whispered it to me (think I was intruding a bit) and all I
caught is they were custom made in Vancouver. That's all I needed really.
We have Google forensics to thank because I immediately typed in "Moccassins
Vancouver" as soon as I got home. And there they were. Enter Ken Diamond and his amazing mocs, all custom made in Vancouver and
constructed of either deer leather (the Koko) or elk leather (the Thomme).
Sorry PETA. These suckers are so cute I could die. And they look comfy beyond belief. I
know they offer no real support but still... I keep picturing them with
skinny jeans, shorts, mini dresses, ethnic tunics- you name it. These may
make my feet very happy. They will not make my wallet ecstatic though. After
all, hand braided kangaroo laces don't come cheap, bebes. We're talking
about $425. But they are all custom and handmade and take about a month to
craft. Love that. Love things made by hand. And love the fact that in New
York, you can find things that inspire you while straining your neck in a
shampoo bowl. Inspiration is everywhere here- that's why New York is "New
York" my lovelies. You only need to look around and BOOM. And that's what's afoot this cloudy, chilly, and painful Tuesday in
Manhattan. XO For more looks at the mocs and the other handcrafted leather candy of Ken
Diamond go to http://www.kendiamond.com/
Ace Hotel, the wacky iron or fiberglass anthropomorphism perched
precariously around Madison Square Park in the form of naked male statues by
Antony Gormley. It's all too much and it's wonderful and I'm overwhelmed but
shall post about these things and more at some point. However, let's talk about my feet. My aching freaking feet. I've been an
avid indoor cyclist and yoga devotee for some time now, as well as a regular
flip flop wearer. Some chicks won't go out without heels- I am quite the
opposite. The flatter the shoe the better for me. I love to feel grounded I
suppose. And I'm a tragic klutz. But back to the feet. I'm walking around New York like an old bag. It's sad.
I have been looking for comfortable shoes forever now and can't find
anything I like. At all. I have an aversion to wearing sneakers outside of
the gym. It all stems from a French boyfriend in the college days who told
me it was tacky for women to wear sneakers. Sacre bleu...what's a girl to
do? I disagree, however. A lot of chicks look mad cute in kicks. Just not this
gal. I can't pull it off. I feel like a clown. I even bought a chic, slim
pair of Y3's and still feel so not right in them. I then bought some soft
Dr. Scholl's jobs and they still hurt too. Then I bought these really cool
Bass oxfords, which are marginally better, but still not quite there. Which brings me to yesterday. I got my hair cut (and I mean CUT) at my fav
spot in town with the best girls- Siobhan for cut and Ellie for color over
at Arrojo Studios on Varick (big ups to those two. I love them to death). I'm sitting there with a glaze on my head when I spy a killer pair of white
leather moccasins on a girl getting her foils taken out in the shampoo bowl
next to me. I'm staring and practically drooling on them so much so that she
shoots me a nervous look. I tell her I am mad for the mocs and ask where she
got them. She whispered it to me (think I was intruding a bit) and all I
caught is they were custom made in Vancouver. That's all I needed really.
We have Google forensics to thank because I immediately typed in "Moccassins
Vancouver" as soon as I got home. And there they were. Enter Ken Diamond and his amazing mocs, all custom made in Vancouver and
constructed of either deer leather (the Koko) or elk leather (the Thomme).
Sorry PETA. These suckers are so cute I could die. And they look comfy beyond belief. I
know they offer no real support but still... I keep picturing them with
skinny jeans, shorts, mini dresses, ethnic tunics- you name it. These may
make my feet very happy. They will not make my wallet ecstatic though. After
all, hand braided kangaroo laces don't come cheap, bebes. We're talking
about $425. But they are all custom and handmade and take about a month to
craft. Love that. Love things made by hand. And love the fact that in New
York, you can find things that inspire you while straining your neck in a
shampoo bowl. Inspiration is everywhere here- that's why New York is "New
York" my lovelies. You only need to look around and BOOM. And that's what's afoot this cloudy, chilly, and painful Tuesday in
Manhattan. XO For more looks at the mocs and the other handcrafted leather candy of Ken
Diamond go to http://www.kendiamond.com/
A great class at Soul Cycle this am with a bunch of very cool chicks
A long walk back downtown accompanied by classic Wu on the Ipod
Add a picture perfect spring day in New York avec blue skies and sunshine
A toasted bialy with whitefish salad eaten (more like inhaled) in under a
minute.
sunglasses on, staring at all the amazing characters that make this city
second to none. I could have walked for miles...and there's many more miles
to walk and I couldn't be happier. Can't wait for more. Bring it. XO
Hiya...blogging from my cab. Fastest baggage claim ever. Loves it. Wrote
this post on the plane...enjoy- wheeeeeeee:
completely and totally on vacation- leaving this fair town broke my heart
many years ago, but I think I can actually go there now and not scheme or
angle or hustle to get back there- this is kind of a first for me- just
enjoying the city in all its glory and not thinking about why the hell I
left in the first place. I'm pretty happy these days amidst the palm trees
and the ocean and the extraordinary closets and SPACE. I am not sure I could
trade that at this point in my fair existence. But as I sit here on the
plane, listening to a little R. Kelly "Happy People" and smiling as the
skyline fast approaches, I still feel like a giddy little kid when I think
about seeing all my friends, all my favorite stores and art spots, all my
favorite bagel joints, and just soaking in the energy that is New York in
all its glory...for some reason I am craving a good old fashioned night out
in the NY- dancing to old school and getting sweaty and not giving a crap
what anyone thinks. That's definitely on the agenda. I am also going to do my usual course of soul cycling, excruciating core
fusioning, and carbo loading on bagels and pizza to make it all for naught.
I am also beyond excited that my favorite hairdresser on earth is back in
New York where she belongs, and am looking forward to some heavenly meals in
spite of the inevitable spin classes and core fusion. Whenever I land in the NY, I feel like a hopped up chicken- literally
bouncing out of the airport and running to get going and keep going. I am
sure I will run on over to the Calypso outlet and walk around the old
neighborhood- I will remember all the fun times David and I had living in
Soho- wish he was here with me for all of this, but new job and such
prevented it. I can't wait till this bird lands and I can get going on my
adventures in Manhattan. If you are in town, please let's hang out and shop
and libate and converse. I can't wait to see you NY. Hope you are ready for
me. XO For those of you who know not what I speak of... SOUL CYCLE. FANCY SCHMANCY SPIN CLASS I CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF. CORE FUSION AT EXHALE. INTIMIDATING BEYOND BELIEF BUT STRANGELY ADDICTIVE. SIOBHAN AT ARROJO STUDIOS. BEYOND THE BEST BLOWOUT AND CUT IN TOWN.