Suno Lookbook

Suno's 2010 Spring Lookbook make me both long for Costa Rica and wonder why I live in a place with a winter season.

Confessions of a porta-potty tipper

The following names have been changed to protect the not-so innocent.

L: So i lost my fucking iphone this weekend. yay.
L: and i pushed J*** over in porta-potty-whoops.
L: p.s don't say anything to him about it, i think it hurts his feelings now that he's sober.

The conversation came accompanied with some pictures of the aftermath. I wish I wasn't sworn to secrecy, otherwise I'd share. A mental image will have to suffice: The porta-potty was unused (luckily) so where there would normally be feces and urine, there was that weird blue dye so imagine a 6 foot tall, drunk, unhappy Smurf.

My feelings would be hurt too.

Street Street Art

I met this guy on the street this weekend, his work is dope. See it here.

The day my iPhone was busted

Having called everyone in my contacts in order to trouble shoot why i couldn't make or receive calls, I resorted to texting next. Thank the Holy MAC Gods that was working. And thus, the following conversation was had:

me: Can you see this? My phone is acting wonky!
Jesse: Yeah. The calls earlier were busted though.
me: Yeah! I can't hear ANYTHING!?
Jesse: Eek! and I'm in the subway and mine is working super good. So suck it.
me: F you. It's prime time for subway terrorism-suck that!
Jesse: you are gonna feel so bad when i get anthraxed!

On a whim I went into Fluke which is a vintage store that carries the kind of stuff it'd be a fluke to find anywhere else, but since you found it at Fluke, it isn't–instead, it's meant to be. Like this dress circa 80s I found. I know what you're wondering, and yes, I do plan on wearing it with chunky platforms.

Get it? It’s a lawn chair. No, no, but do you get it? Like lawn, that’s a chair?

So I live next door to Voos, a 1500 square foot furniture showroom that serves as a “platform where designers, architects, fabricators and end users meet and interact.” (To quote from their site.) This end user might just go interact with a lawn chair. (To quote from myself.)

Freshest of the Fresh

No longer an Uncle Joey phrase, Cut-It-Out is the name of up-and-coming designer, Yelena Konovalova’s new line resembling an elementary school art project that involves construction paper, scissors and every last crayon in the box. A+


Obvs, I bought the leggings.

Nosara Beach dreamin'

i'm pleased to announce that i'm a proud owner of my first one piece swimsuit since 1986.
i'm sure i'll look exactly like this in it too.



Four others and $130 later, this is what happens with too much downtime and daydreams.

Once upon a Brooklyn rooftop

I'm gonna miss these idiots.



Ah, Brooklyn.



"Look! A hipster!"





Nice shades.



I think this was a mistake, but I like it.

Never, never, never give up.

-Winston Churchill

It's good to be in love

Mulberry joins forces with London based photographer, Chris Craymer for its first book on stomach butterflies and zsa zsa zsu Hence the name:'Romance.' sighhh...

Summer reading

Memorial Day marked the beginning of the long list of books I vow to finish before fall. Even if this means reading them all at once.

Pattie Boyd, Wonderful Tonight

Joseph Epstein, Snobbery

Henry Green, Loving Living Party Going

Paul Neilan, Apathy

I can now die happy.

Nine

mildly comical, disturbingly erotic, if this was someone's joke we'd all laugh awkwardly then change the subject.


twas my obsessive compulsion with sunglasses that made me post this.no really, i should be in rehab. the sunglass sellers on st. mark's place might as well be my dealers.

My mom is the best. Her name is Deonne for cryin out loud. Only football players and psychics are named Deonne.

Easily digestible for a Thursday morning:

Muxtape and Hype Machine had a love (hate sex) child. They called it Hypetape. Makes sense.

From the site:

"Hypetape is the illegitimate lovechild of Hype Machine and Muxtape, where you can create and share playlists containing tracks other people have been talking about from around the internet."

Personally, I think all three sites are pretty embryonic, so how they procreated this early is beyond me.

Tomorrow is No Pants Day

Apparently the first of May has always been No Pants Day. Don't I feel like an (ahem) ass? Guess it's akin to the not quite national April Fool's day only the jokes on everyone else. It even has a website. Beat that April 1st.

the Hype

www.unis.com

Customer Service is Dead

My sister used to hang Barbies with shoelaces off the doorknobs in our playroom.
This is way better.

Tape Cassette Art

Dope.

Meetings in coffee shops, volume I.

In an effort to find myself, I randomly emailed this writer whom I've never met, who probably thought I was a stalker or a pathetic hack looking for work (don't know which is worse) to see if he'd meet with me and give me some advice on how to break into the blogosphere (I fucking hate when people say that).

I sent him a link to my blog where I felt confident that my posts were just hip enough with the right amount of snark and cynism to befriend even the most accomplished (hack), charasmatic (self deprecating) blogger. So when I met him at the public place he suggested, I was surprised by the smugness.

So do you know anyone in the business? I mean other than me?
No. What the fuck do you think, jackass? We don't know each other, you think this is just fun for me: emailing someone I don't know to ask what they think I should do with my life.

Well for starters, you should start over on your blog. Like pick a topic or a theme and then write on that.

I fake looked for something to write with then gave up.

Then you should hit all the writer bars and clubs. That's how I get my leads. It's a lot of schmoozing so if you don't like that, you might be in the wrong business.

Fine. Whatever. I'll schmooze. Really I'll go to these places, get shitfaced, act better than everyone and let them think I'm the one they should be schmoozing with. So this will be fun.

And you should watch your language on your posts. You never know who could be reading and just get offended by it.

Yeah. Fuck you. He might as well tell me I suck and should just give up. That wouldn't have pissed me off as much. I love fuck. I use fuck. It helps me emphasize every-fucking-thing.

He said a couple of other things while my mind trailed off thinking how cool it was to see Mary Louise Parker and her son just ten minutes before, if I had enough money to take a cab back to work because it was going to rain, and how I really, really wanted those boots I saw online yesterday.

Needless to say, it didn't end well. The mother fucker didn't even buy my coffee. (Was I supposed to?) No leads. No real believable advice. Just another failed attempt to secure the secret to writing in today's world. Well not failed, the secret is: there isn't one.

So the moral is, well, nothing. Modern therapy says its good to vent so consider myself ventilated. But in all seriousness the creative class and its need to exude wisdom and arrogance all at once will never cease to piss me the fuck off. We're all trying here, we're all good at something. All of us made it to New York City on talent or determination or any other adjective found on an inspirational tear off calendar for God sakes, so have some respect. Actually, fuck respect. Have some empathy. Because you were once not as good as you pretend to be, after all.

Leigh always goes there

My friend Leigh has the dirtiest mouth. I can't take her anywhere. Just when you think you're having normal, friendly banter, cursing and shredding each other politely, she goes and pulls a whammy like this:

Me: Oh you're just sooo busy. You're soo busy. You realize you're just sticking it to the man, right?

Leigh: Why don't you go lick a cunt. Then you'll be busy too.

AIDS-3D

This site gives me the same feeling looking at it that I had when I sat on this one Santa's lap who smelled like whiskey and body odor and talked so uncomfortably close my dad had to interrupt our session. It gives me, in the words of homosexuals and moms, "the willies."

It looks how any site looks when someone first discovers basic html and uses every possible color and rotating graphic they can fit into one clickable link. But in a way, it's dark and rather disturbing, like you're looking at something you shouldn't–I know it's just a site. I even tried to download some of the MP3s but it froze my computer because it has Satan as a moderator.

Anyway, click if you dare. The same curiosity that makes you stare at someone getting pulled from a flaming vehicle will make you do it.

Check out their Demands page, too. "Free the creator of tv-links.uk from jail." Or what? Our avatars will never see the light of day again?

I should stop mocking, I think my hair is falling out.

Dead Prez Grizzly Bear

Jesus Christ, drop kick me to the goal post.

New Andre 3000

Oh Andre...
How i love your ability to dress like a coked up Tranny without actually being one.
Independence gets you everywhere with me.

Terry Richardson photographs himself for watches, inserts flesh

Terry Richardson Autoportraits

Park Slope parents rejoice while the rest of us freak the f out

It's really never enough with these women. First, it's the silent birth, then the breast feeding in public, then the mommy and me yoga classes, then the marsupial. Stop already! We get it. You embrace your womanly right to bear children! But you're screwing your kid up, you know that right? Let it cry for a while, or drink Coke from a bottle, put it on top of your shoulders for Christ sakes like the rest of us. Who cares if he can't support his own neck-he'll learn! But don't carry the kid around in a snuggie made for two. For the rest of his life he's going to go around with his head sticking halfway out his shirts because if he doesn't, he'll start killing again. Now look what you did.

welcome back