Archive for March 2007
a bohemian moose…er…muse (but really an elk)
the keffiyeh
political statement, haute couture or another one of those myspace-follow-the-leader fashion moments? you decide.
a couple of links to get your mind racing on the topic:
- above photo and village voice article on the keffiyeh here.
- treehouse and the cave has tracked the street fashion trend for quite some time.
- side note: urban outfitter sells the scarf originally called the anti-war scarf.
- additional commentary on the scarf here. (really, trent reznor?)
- the terrorist chic ensemble. LA times
- new york times style section takes on the trend here.
- and finally, balenciaga’s version (autumn/winter 2007/08)
reflect for a minute…
picture by marc. hollywood anti war protest march 17, 2007.
vs.
“This has to stop. I think it is a good idea for us all to drop everything and devote our lives to making this stop. I don’t think it’s an extremist thing to do anymore. I still really want to dance around to Pat Benatar and have boyfriends and make comics for my coworkers. But I also want this to stop. Disbelief and horror is what I feel. Disappointment. I am disappointed that this is the base reality of our world and that we, in fact, participate in it. This is not at all what I asked for when I came into this world. This is not at all what the people here asked for when they came into this world. This is not the world you and Dad wanted me to come into when you decided to have me. This is not what I meant when I looked at Capital Lake and said: “This is the wide world and I’m coming to it.” I did not mean that I was coming into a world where I could live a comfortable life and possibly, with no effort at all, exist in complete unawareness of my participation in genocide. More big explosions somewhere in the distance outside.”
(from rachel corrie’s emails. march 16. anniversary of her death.)
space exploration
isa’s photo, march 2007
suits you, amore.
a woman past her prime
finds convenience in a middle part and hair pulled into a tight bun.
(and always red lipstick.)
and wears this necklace with five oversive turquoise rings.
in her mind, she also walks over to the record player and puts on chant du menestrel.
(speaking of such, she surrenders years and years of collecting thrift store records here.)
the grandma look must include sock shoes
sun city is almost as chic as paris, france
from the streets of paris:
purple tights to match the purple tulips sitting at my desk.
the stella H&M sweater jacket i watched for months on ebay but never bought. but, i’m posting because i really like their hair.
those pockets are perfect for carrying a ziplock bag of baby wipes and a diaper.
(photos from the sartorialist via style.com)
*******
from a cubicle in downtown phoenix:
sun city was built in the 1960s and apparently hasn’t changed much in the last 47 years.
when i was in grade school, i had a great aunt who lived in sun city. back then, it was a town for the snowbirds, a retirement community with a strict rule of no children allowed. when we visited my great aunt, my brother and i had to wait in the car.
from the backseat of my parent’s aerostar van, we watched silver-haired fellas with turquoise bolo ties drive around in golf carts and plaid pants. occassionally, a woman in a coiffed beehive and dressed in a paisley afternoon gown with fuzzy slippers appeared outside to water her prickly pear cactus plant.
she watched us like a hawk.
the grass was perfectly manicured with a sprinkler system that cast rainbows in every direction. the mobile homes and little casitas were painted the most beautiful sun-faded pink and yellow. a shuffle board, an untouched swimming pool that reflected that rays from a vibrant sun, and shade under the bloooming orange trees.
it was fantastic.
which reminds me of a designer i stumbled on several months ago here.
this is rowena sartin. and she knows what i’m talking about.
please tell me i need to get my eyebrows waxed
underneath the earth momma exterior there exists a wildebeest.
march 3
today is my birthday.
it is a special day for you too.
on this day, you labored and fought for my first breath of air.
on this day, you became a mother
and my story began.
i blew out the candles while you stood in the background
i opened the presents
while you cut the cake and served it to everyone.
i am sorry it took so long, mother
thirty-two years and a child of my own
to finally thank you for your strength and bravery.
on this day you fought a battle,
you carried the pain,
and bore the wounds of childbirth.
on this day, you gave everything
for me.
