This whimsical piece is on my jock right now. I'm considering trying to make my own, but for now, I'll just drool over the jpeg on my desktop.


"Tape Dispenser"

book/blog/book/blog

Yo.

My first ever post on the Nylon Blog is up! Please check out-
NYLON BLOG
(it's under= " It is what it is")

I promise I'm not cheating on you guys. I just need a new place to rant and rave about all things superficial and intensely LA.

In the meantime, before I blog about "real" things. I want this book so bad!

Bizarre Books: A Compendium of Classic Oddities by Russel Ash and Brian Lake

via notcot.org

geo

These days, I’m all about geometry. I’m visually picking out lines and parabolas, as if someone has replaced my contacts with grids. Someone should actually- it might be kind of trippy and fun. Or I might just vomit. In any case, geometric figures and shapes are jumping out at me at all angles (no pun intended). Or maybe my eyesight has been giving out.


Henrik Vibskov scarf via Shop Fatal


Botryka exhibition via via Mediumism


From a very cool ETSY store this store

Any other cool pics out there for me to drool over?

Eventful: Weekends

The last weekend and this recent one have been memorable. I channeled my inner music-loving epicurean and neither the music nor the food disappointed. In fact, I may have caught the best show- ever-at Chop Suey in Seattle.

First came the eponymous Boris (in SEATTLE), the band that will always have a place in my heart, despite how many times they've come close to blowing out my eardrums. Lucky for me, I was able to jumpstart my SEATTLE experience by heading to their show straight from the airport. Though the general mood at the venue was a little dour at first, Boris killed it the minute they stepped on stage. The crowd refrained from showing signs of emotion at first, which was best depicted by a woman gripping her coffee (yes, I said COFFEE) mug with trembling fingers. Midway through the performance, people started to loosen up, throwing up the universal sign of rock n' roll (the devil's horns) and vigorously beating the air with their fists. However, no crowdsurfers that night. Much to my delight, the band played most tracks off PINK. The music was amplified by the lead singer's slightly phallic dual bass/guitar piece and the female guitarist's intense playing. The drummer's perfect, blank stares into the audience was a little creepy, but I'm sure we looked like a mass of light from where he was.

Here's a little peak of what I saw that night.


So the next best thing to that was the Black Lips' Echoplex performance last night which was really exciting for the first 20 minutes they played. Mind you, they were only on stage for 20 minutes. The show was cut short after some jerk in the audience threw a beer bottle on stage. But before the Black Lips chewed us out for being rude, they were amazing! Their Chuck Berry-esque rhythm is paired harmoniously with psych-y guitar work, which reminded me of Marty McFly's " Johnny Be Good" performance at his parent's high school dance, one of my favorite scenes from Back to the Future. Ok, maybe that was a terrible comparison, but I can't help it that I associate that movie with everything in my life-

What was (but without the irritating 15 year old's moshing and spitting at the band)


Try playing both at once. Just kidding.

Heart

I started to hibernate and avoid my blogging duties recently but was lured back to the web after bumping into Esther Kim at a Ladies Lotto event. Esther, whose website is so fun to browse through, just moved back to LA from Japan and has been doing big things with her illustration. Funny that we'd never met in person until that night (we were xanga-buddies), despite the fact that I went to school with her equally-as-talented brother Daniel. Which reminds me, I need to give this chick a call.



One of my faves- via Esther Loves You

Seattle: Livin' the good life.

It's bizarre how underrated the Seattle restaurant/dining scene is. In the scope of things, it's definitely no San Francisco and certainly not competitive with New York's bounty of fine fare. But Seattle has it's own "flava" and flair, no doubt.

how it all began
My weekend getaway could not have happened at a more ideal time. Seattlelites were bathing in sunlight. I expected torrents of rain but God's smile was upon me all weekend. He knew I would be bringing strappy shoes and those beauties would not have had wet pavement at all. (Stop rolling your eyes! They're vintage!)
And while I'm sure there is much to do and see in Seattle, I spent most of my vacation chowing down. A whole day was devoted to combing through Pike Place Market for the "bests" and the "tastiests". From the spicy macaroni & cheese from Beecher's to the unforgettable catfish sandwich from Matt's in the Market, I was eating my way to a clogged artery. Three inches around the waist later, I am a Seattle Foodie-virgin no longer. I was bent over and spanked hard by all that good grub.

observations
Thanks to modern marvels such as the Internet and Fed Ex, we are drowning in cultural homogeneity. You're getting the same kind of juice from every orange. Prior to my visit, I expected almost a rare breed of Northwesterners- the kind I remember from the 90's music videos- flannel shirt-scraggly facial hair-wearing grunge kids who love music to a fault, endemic only in a place with this many trees and lakes. And while they do love their coffee and their music, I didn't hear or drink anything unfamiliar. Call me provincial, but I wanted the shock value. The same kind I felt when stepping onto Broadway in NYC for the first time 7 years ago. Instead, I was mostly impressed but not shocked. I didn't even come up on obscure Seattle bands, because most of them I've read about on various blogs. I went to a bar and it reeked of Los Angeles/New York hipsters. Damn you Cobra Snake.

But what I did find unique in Seattle was everything indigenous and natural. Lake Wash was beautiful and I mentioned TREES right? All along the freeways, there were trees. The fish was so fresh, I felt it swimming in my stomach. And the gorgeous seasonal fruits and veggies made me a little jealous. I want cheeks that red! These alone startled my senses and heightened my need for fresh air. These are things the internet can never convey! After all, the whole point of an experience is to experience it.

go for the gold

A trip to my dentist and a stumble across this website happened all in one day. And the culmination of my accomplishments (yes, finally getting my teeth examined is quite a feat!) is this fun piece of gold below. Designed by Kiel Mead, this 14k gold retainer necklace is cast by hand and what I wish I had to wear after my braces came off. Although, I did accidentally throw mine away in the high school lunchroom.



$300 from Areaware

project clean-up

I'm trying to whittle down the amount of garbage- I mean decor- in my room. So far, I've sold/donated/gave away grab bags worth of clothing. Unfortunately, I've still got a long road ahead. If only I could pull myself away from my bed, away from my laptop. If you see something you want, name a price. I'm trying to save up for my tooth implantation. Just kidding.

"Edited by David Blamey. Essays by Rosie Thomas, Patricia Uberoi, Sara Dickey, Emily King, M.S.S. Pandian and Christopher Pinney.

This charming book of Indian film posters offers the uninitiated a window into the sub-continent's famously over-the-top movie industry, and for those who know it well, there is a wide selection of classic and little-known material. Posters from smaller production outposts in Tahttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gifmil Nadu and Kerela appear alongside their more glamorous Bombay cousins, and contemporary work alongside archetypal images from what's thought of as Bollywood's golden age. Street photographs show the art in situ, while essays addressing it from anthropological, sociological and design perspectives put it in broader context as a visually charismatic key to the politics, history and beliefs of India."



"Edited by Trevor Schoonmaker.~Essays by Olu Oguibe, Yomi Durotoye, Vivien Goldman, Moyo Okediji and Michael E. Veal. ~Poetry by Sharon Strange.

Crowned the king of Afrobeat and dubbed the Black President, Fela Anikulapo-Kuti was a master performer, composer and voice of the oppressed. The Nigerian musician and activist invented an infectious new musical genre called Afrobeat, combining American funk and jazz with traditional Yoruba and highlife music to end up with a sound that doubled as a weapon for justice. Troubled by the state of Nigerian society, he assembled and built his Kalakuta Republic and created his own political party, actions which saw him arrested, imprisoned and beaten by the police and military--but Fela was so influential in Nigerian cultural and political life that even they flocked to his funeral to pay respect to their fallen hero. This book features a diverse range of artists who continue to be inspired by Fela's artistic genius and dedication to justice and equality: from visual practitioners like Sanford Biggers, Sokari Douglas Camp, Kendell Geers, Alfredo Jaar, Moshekwa Langa, Olu Oguibe, Yinka Shonibare and Kara Walker to musicians, rappers and DJs. Accompanying essays consider Fela's influence on his musical contemporaries and on an international array of visual artists, Fela as African Blaxploitation hero, and Fela's music in the context of the Nigerian political situation and contemporary activist art. Also included are an updated version of a seminal 1980s article on Fela, a fiction-driven story that reconstructs the last six months of Fela's life, and a poem that deals with Fela's influence on the poet's conception of Africa."

Can someone buy this for me? Via The D.A.P. Catalog

One last quickie before I stop nerding out on the computer-
(my backwards attempt to design an invite to Paul's farewell dinner- he didn't have one of course so this is incomplete!)

I am going to Seattle on Thursday. I plan on doing the following:

Savor Seattle
Seattle Art Museum
and a quick bite at Taste
for some cheese at le pichet via Orangette
Justice (again!)
after Boris of course
and a little Black Lips over at Sonic Boom in between

And don't worry. There will be plenty of kisses and cuddling to top it all off!

Interior Decoration A to Z by Betty Pepis c. 1965

Following the footsteps of my favorite people/bloggers, I too will periodically post photos of some favorites of my vintage book collection. I am a notorious thrift-store /estate sale scavenger and have been since my early high school days. You can imagine the ungodly amount of random knickknacks I've acquired. And in true packrat fashion, a lot of my best finds get shoved in a corner of my room, wearing coats of dust. Time to start cleaning out-

This book I found at a random thrift store in south LA. 90 cents I believe it was. I have a weakness for design books, especially the ones from the early to late sixties. I avoid the eighties at all cost, especially since I lived through horrid days of lightening bolt-all over print couches. In this "tome", Betty Pepis defines relevant interior design terms and applies them to everyday decorating. I've definitely found inspiration for my own room makeover. But more on that later.

Stone(d)

stone roses - I wanna be adored
I like any band with a "St0ne" in its name. I love the Rolling Stones, hell I even liked the Stone Temple Pilots at one point. But you know what 90's "Stone" band did it for me? The Stone Roses. I especially love this song. And I can't get over how psychedelic-slash-trippy the video is. At one point, Ian Brown is letting the microphone dangle lifelessly, like he's some kind of grunge god. And he is!


Enjoy-

An official e. e. cummings remix

Cool.

office clutter

This is my day in a life of a food magazine-editor's sanctuary. Clutter.

Me and Paul Wired NextFest 2007, digitally dating.

This is what I call a helping hand.

A long time ago, I thought I didn't like Justice. In fact, I avoided any intimate space where I'd hear the echoing cries "WE- Are- YOUR- FRIENDS"-yaddah-yaddah. Then, D.A.N.C.E suddenly hit the airwaves (or netwaves, what have you) and I officially pumped my proverbial fist in the air, fervently denying any Justice tolerance in my car, ipod, Saturday nights. Then a trip to the Bay came along and my boo Paul convinced me to drop by a "happenin" concert at the Mezzannine where the aforementioned band was doin its thang-thang. Being the bullheaded brat I am, I writhed in pain, kicking and screaming my way into NOT going, only to be won over by Paul's promise of immediate arrival and an even speedier departure. We were met with door issues (like, not getting in) and a slight drizzle that to me at the time, felt like a thunderstorm. And did I forget to mention that I was much too sober? With not a sip of brew in me, I think I was the crabbiest concert-goer that night, and quite possibly the most annoying human being ever. Suffice to say, that concert experience soured quickly for me, and especially for Paul.

Fast forward one year and I am suddenly at crossroads with la musica de Justice yet again. On one hand, I vaguely remember a pretty decent DJ set at the Mezzanine. On the other, the soul-sucking sound of what appears to be a children's choir singing "WE- ARE- YOUR- FRIENDS..." has got my head spinning (the kind where you really want to throw up after). But there was this party (and so it starts-) and Justice was spinning at it. With my friend Sascha in tow, I go.




The party was fun, thanks to good company. But the most unexpected of all happened. The French duo spun and I was blown away! Their set qualified as one of the best I've seen–their music selection was diverse. As a person conditioned to hate and criticize, I really really tried to. But with one hand in the air and my feet doing weird things, I knew that game recognized game. After all, they made me dance and not writhe! I didn't even mind the oafish man wearing a big sweaty coat who rudely slipped in front of my view. I was pretty happy. (Oh, I did have a beer then- I guess that helped too)

Summer of Love exhibit 2007, the Whitney in NY

These days, I am in a time warp. I feel like I'm living in another era. My boyfriend moved to Seattle two days ago and I am the newborn, feeling my way through life. Here's to new beginnings. More to come.

JERRY GARCIA IS WHY WE WERE THERE: READ JUNE ISSUE OF FADER

SOFT CIRCLE
Grace E. Simons Lodge up in Elysian Park last night 9:45pm
Dodger Game let-out in full effect as we drive aimlessly up and down Elysian Park (the street, unfortunately, we are not anywhere close to being in the actual park itself). Bright orange cones inhabit the path to our eventual paradise. Paradise is definitely too strong of a word at the moment as it is much more purgatory at the moment. Gas light came on while trudging through traffic in WeHo (God, I hate traffic. Oh, I hate WeHo as well). The usually patient boyfriend is jaw-clenched and faux-patient and I am at wit’s end. This melodramatic scene plays without end in my head—will I miss them again?

Alessandro Way, Turn Right on Riverside Road, Right on Stadium 10:05pm
Frantically calling friend, simultaneously asking for directions, I am within arm’s reach to where I want to be, where I’ve wanted to be for the last week and a half, where I should be by now. We miss the turn! I say “ Ay Dios Mio” or maybe I say “Fuck this shit!” but I mostly think, “we’ve missed them.” Boyfriend channels Doc from Back to the Future, steps on his DeLorean (an Audi whenever we break or drive under 30 mph). “We are not missing it,” gritting teeth. “Soft Circle is playing right now” says my musical friend. “Where are you guys?” AY DIOS MIO!

Grace E. Simons Lodge 10:15pm
Ok, we’re here. Music so far is, subpar but loud. Then again, I’m still making my way up from the parking lot and all I see is a dark cloud of smoke (the plague of youth mortality rates) and skinny pants? Are these pants? Or have the denim epidemic gotten so severe that our skin has developed a mutation of blue/black denim scales? Regardless, unyielding, indulgent, ridiculous fun is near!

SOFT CIRCLE 10:17pm
Soft Circle, aka Hisham Bharoocha of Black Dice, is like the guy from Mary Poppins, the guy who’s body is strapped with a variety instruments—except he’s got the electric drum pads, a regular kit, guitar, and all the techie stuff I am ignorant of (laptop maybe?) He canonizes inspiring musicians/bands in his 25 minute long tribute of continuous cacophonic harmonies, his unduly response to simple drumming (he flails his arms! He flails! Broken forearms anyone?) and his music, like the white noise machine I’ve always wanted, drowns out even my dirtiest thoughts (think boyfriend, whip cream, hot wax, and really sensuous bubbles).

No Age 10:45pm
Just to see them makes driving the roundabout way worthwhile. Two man band, Dean and Randy, headline in auditorium. There is about 25 people at this point, standing around, gripping beers-free-of-charge, expecting fireworks. Of course, with No Age, you get more lightening bolts. B says that they killed it at the Smell. Of course, I missed that. I heard they killed it at the Smell (months ago) and yes, I missed that also. Seeing them live was a treat, the sound (though marred by the bad acoustics and weird technical problems) live was fulfilling. You don’t get this kind of stuff at a magazine issue release. You get this at the end of a long night, touched by confusing directions, Dodger gamers, and more nerves. A friend was wearing a No Age shirt and that, completed my night. I almost missed it (the boyfriend would have been disappointed) and I would have been obligated to fill this entire essay with parenthetical complaints and expletives.

The End.

post punk

I must digress from fashion for a second. These days, while the eyes have still been wandering from rack to rack, my mind has been pondering on all the great music we are fortunate (and have been) enough to listen to. These days, I've been tickled silly by the likes of the Moonrats and No Age, two bands that frequently play Los Angeles. Time to thank Mom and Pop for not immigrating to buttfuck-nowhere, where shows come few and far between. Look at any tour schedule for any band and you will see that Los Angeles/NYC/SF are always covered. Night after night, we find ourselves front row, dead center, hair wet from sweat, body pulsating with intense musical bliss. The cacophonic screams are almost pleasant sounding when accompanying basslines, drumbeats, and handclaps. Los Angeles is its very own stage with a bill that continues to draw out the best of the best crowds and sometimes, the worst of the worst (ever been to the Smell on a industrial punk night? Yea. Nuff said).

Anyway, enough I HEART LA-speak, I just want to talk about a band I've grown to really appreciate and love. MAXIMUM JOY, a post-punk band of the 80's whose music has influenced much of the sound popular today. The band has fused jazz, reggae (or so they say), punk together for a sound unique to their not so complicated counterparts at the time. I'd say that some of it is very Police-esque, but a little weirder, more obscure. Sometimes you hear this stuff and you think, what the hell? But mostly, you are impressed by their desires to liberate themselves from post-punk hell = electronic pop. But mostly, you think -- this sounds like the Rapture in neolithic garb. Oh yea, they're pretty fashionable too. I think.



Anyway. Look them up, buy the re-release of their cd from Crippled Dick Hot Wax.

Note to self.

42 Galleries and Exhibit Spaces Participate in Artwalk Culver City on Saturday June 2nd
On Saturday, June 2, 2007 from 12:00 Noon to 8PM, the City of Culver City and LACMA Muse will present the second annual ARTWALK Culver City. This free, self-guided tour of forty-two local art galleries and exhibition spaces is sponsored by Sony Pictures Entertainment and 89.9 KCRW is the official Public Radio Sponsor. ARTWALK Culver City is intended to introduce a wider audience to the area’s growing art scene which includes twenty-four spaces in Culver City and eighteen spaces along its Los Angeles border. This event will especially celebrate the Culver City Art District, a cluster of galleries exhibiting emerging and established artists, which has formed where Washington and La Cienega Boulevards intersect. There will be special promotions from neighboring restaurants, cafes and bars in the Culver City Art District and Downtown as well as live jazz from 5PM to 8PM performed by the alumni of the Henry Mancini Institute and the Thelonius Monk Institute of Jazz.

Timothy Hull Life Is Only Real When I Am
May 26- June 23, 2007

Taylor De Cordoba gallery

"From May 26 thru June 23, Taylor De Cordoba will present Life is Real Only Then When I Am, a solo show by New York-based artist Timothy Hull. The exhibition consists of paintings, works on paper, a scent and audio, relating to the world surrounding the mystical thinker and orator, G.I. Gurdjieff (1877-1949). The gallery will host an opening reception for the artist on Saturday May 26th from 6 – 9PM.

Through a wide range of media, Hull explores the dynamics of the cult of personality, the plausibility of esoteric knowledge, notions of orientalism, charismatic icons, diagrams and mysticism. He uses Gurdjieff as a symbol for the incidence of new age gurus and the search for ‘truth’ and ‘reality’ vis-à-vis Eastern knowledge in early Twentieth Century Europe. The work evokes a particular era and feeling, creating new associations either linked to or wholly inconsequential to the subject matter. The title of the exhibition is taken from the title of Gurdjieff’s last book in the ‘All and Everything’ series."

SUMMER IS A BUMMER

I lied. I said I would attempt to update more periodically, but... nevertheless, here I am again! I've accrued many drafts as I always would start something new, like words just falling out of my mouth, and never being able to end on a good note. So here's the 30th shot of many...

Minale Maeda
While the designer at Minale Maeda does great tableware design (see "lace plates"), I can't help but be enamored with the lace-tablecloth motifs. The T-shirts may be ho-hum worn, but with big macs resting atop them, the pseudo "tablecloth" couldn't be any more upscale.

Dover Street Market
If you want summer cool, Comme de garcons will give you summer cool. These wallets are AMAZING. I, in fact, have a Comme de garcons wallet (not shown). I purchased mine at Blends in Downtown in the secret store behind the shoe displays. Just feeling the leather, I could tell already this wallet will be lasting me a while. Unless I lose of it course, and I will lose it of course.

You certainly can't have a wallet without a bag. Or can you? Check out the bag below before you answer:]

THIS IS AUTO!
I just cannot get the colorful sorbet palette out of my mind. Granted, this textile looks a little ancient (and by ancient, I mean 1970's) but there's a wee bit of hippie in me, fine a lot. Can't go wrong with a colorful bag in the summer.

And just because it's summer doesn't mean you can't flash a little bit of shimmer. Just ask people in Miami. They shimmer 24/7.
OTTE NY
Perfect with your scandalous bathing suit. Or not.

So to ring in the summertime--- enjoy! I'll be back soon, I promise.

budget worksheet

I did a little shopping this weekend. I know I shouldn't have, but the discounts were too good! I have been trying to save up for my tooth implantation surgery as well as this weekend's Coachella festivities. However, finding out that one of my favorite clothing brands, Society for Rational Dress, was having a sample sale at their downtown studio, how could I NOT pull out my wallet and subsequently fork over my hard-earned money? And so I did.


I bought this jumper for $30, originally priced at God knows how much. It dates back to the spring/summer 2006 collection. I bought the cream-colored jumper, to which my boyfriend appropriately dubbed "more regal".


This blazer looks much sexier on a rail thin model than on me, but I've come to realize that there's nothing wrong with a little cleavage--from the fall 2006 collection.


And last but not least, from the sample sale, the most worthwhile purchase of the day, the SHOES---the shoes. Certainly there is something a little too flamboyantly Pantheon about the shoes, but that is why they are perfect. They truly are evergreen and has become a vintage find--from the 2005 fall collection. Score.

Along the way to our final stop (Scoops Ice Cream), we wandered over to the Ooga Booga store, which in it's 4th or 5th year of operation, has found quite a cult following. They carry the best mixtapes, cds, rare zines, and all the No Age paraphernalia you need to jumpstart your fanatcism. I think they are playing at the Smell soon, but more on that later...

The store's owner, Wendy, was wearing a great piece:
By: Sara Clendening
So of course, I bought it. I had this great scarf in the same yellow/black colorway (it was plaid before plaid was the craze) but I lost it on tranny-boulevard in Hollywood after a party. Went back to hunt it down, but as I was desperately massaging the pavement for signs of cheap wool, someone (probably a tranny) was bathing in its warmth. I still tear thinking about that scarf. But this necklace is definitely keeping the neck company these days.

maya-oh-maya

!! I'm back !!

When my life is consumed by editorial work, I stop wanting to play with the blog. But I am constantly hunting on the web and constantly observing my surroundings for inspiration. Luckily, I'm inspired by everything. From the corners of my desk to the colors of the different types of bread in the pantry to my own friends! This weekend, I ran into Kara of All Things Ordinary at the Scion-sponsored art show and went to the Society for Rational Dress sample sale with Van Lam of Natural Histories (which was AMAZING, by the way). These two stylish girls always have interesting things to say and inspire me with their wit and eye for beauty. Check out their blogs!

On a recent trip to Mexico City, it was inspiration OVERLOAD. The D.F.- Distrito Federal- is filled to brim with color; the decorative textiles, the fashion, the people--everything illuminated the city with breathtaking visuals. To that effect, the sky seemed bluer than any I've seen and the archaic buildings seemed even more mysterious. Having always had an affinity for the lush colors of Mexican and indigenous Mayan textile designs, I couldn't help but fall into that tourist trap of buying from the street vendors, paying an obscene amount of $$ for a tablecloth I still haven't used. Haven't found the right venue for it.


A great photo I found on the web.

Another great photo. Look at the different patterns successfully mesh together on this one woman!


To think the Mayans have been doing this for a long-ass time. We need to catch up!


Eley Kishimoto Spring/Summer 2007


Another Eley Kishimoto--in technicolor!


Top Shop's greatest hits


Scholten Baijings project

Another Scholten Baijings project

Until next time...

man about town

I have to say that as much as I love the woman's sillhouette (some) and the limitless design options for women's clothing, I am inexplicably drawn to men's fashion. I'm thinking that it could be that with women's fashion, it's so much easier to come up with something quirky but ready-to-wear whereas for men, it's harder to not fall in that Abercrombie trap (ie. jeans. striped shirt. belt, all badly interpreted). That is why I commend men's designers, for their sensitivity to the lack of options and for defying the social stigmas of wearing anything but pants and a clean shirt. That is why I am a huge Alexandre Plokhov fan, he does wonders with Cloak.

However, today, I would like to shine some light on Martin Margiela for his great work in both men's and women's fashion. A few standouts:


This jacket screams adrogyny. It's both masculine and femine at the same time.


I'm calling it first: bowties will be worn by women across the planet shortly.


This is what angers me. Clearly these wallets belong in both the men's AND women's section of the website. However, you have to pore through the men's to find them.


I guess I am more masculine then I thought. I have shoes similar to both.

The line that's drawn between men's and women's fashion is so thin that I think we only categorize anymore because well, we'd be in complete disarray if there were no more categories to adhere to--or so they say. Regardless, I advise all of you (non-males who only browse the "females") to venture over to xys and check out the great stuff that never gets shared with us.