the genius of the pencil skirt

Above, Mouret (of course), the prophet of the sleek silhouette.

I am so excited for fall. And it reminds me how sick I am of the boho skirts and tank tops and flip-flops. I know the 100+ degree weather demanded it. And I've done it. But I am so tired of it. I think lots of people are. We're all ready to be inspired again.

It's the first time in a while that I feel like I'm 'back to school' shopping... I so clearly remember the day - natch, week - before school in 7th grade, carefully arranging my Aeropostale flight jacket (blue wool with brown leather sleeves), new pair of jeans and red chunky sweater on my bed, in anticipation of wearing them all for the first time. (Of course, it was 75 degrees the first day of school and the entire image had to be redesigned at the last minute).

So it's August and I'm already fighting the shopping public of New York City for the last Banana Republic pencil skirt.



I repeat, it's August.

So I buy the wide leather belt in black, because I know how fast that's going to sell, and I know that the $25 gift card burning a hole in my wallet needs to return to its maker. But the skirt? The perfect skirt that hugs the thigh-hip curves without accentuating them, the one with the belt loops made specially for my new purchase? The one that combines sophistication ansd sexiness, that suits a man-tailored white shirt, that makes me feel like an early-90s Sharon Stone mixed with a perfectly-poised Katherine Hepburn? But it's wool. I can't buy wool when it's this hot out.

I keep thinking about this skirt. So I go onto bananarepublic.com to finally cave in, and it's gone. GONE! Not even on the website anymore. I enlist Mom, the true retail expert, who finds the one remaining skirt in the entire city that's not a size 14. Bravo, mom. I love you. And owe you $88 bucks.

Now all I need is a new blouse and a pair of shoes. The genius of the pencil skirt - you have to buy an entirely new outfit to wear with it.

Illusions

I don't know if anyone actually reads this; if you are and you do, I apologize for being such a crappy blogger. But sometimes it feels like doing homework, especially if I'm just doing it for myself - then it's like having a video out for too long; the mere thought of getting up and returning it is too stressful to even consider.

This struck me as too funny not to post. I'm blaming it on the heat.


Cleaning out the drawer in the sideboard with all the leftover wedding crafts items (construction paper from placecards, jordan almonds I decided not to serve, little round tulle things I was convinced I needed after reading Martha Stewart about a year ago), and I found this hair comb I didn't use.

I really liked it, very atomic 50s, don't you think? It didn't match with the dress and kept flopping over in my hair, so it stayed in the drawer.


I then looked at the tag and noticed the company is called Illusions Bridal. Now I know that there's a type of veil fabric called an illusion veil. But the name of the whole company? If a woman has to start creating illusions on her wedding day, that's kind of sad. Especially if the illusion is that of happiness - or beauty - or that of the marriage itself.

And if you're wearing the piece pictured below, what kind of illusion are you trying to create?

Are Bonobos vegetarian?

During the lunchtime hour, I wander my new work-hood in the Flatiron district in search of line-free food purchasing options (Shake Shack, that means you). And as my husband Liam is a (fish-eating) vegetarian, I'm especially disposed to finding new and different meat-free meals, just for the hell of it. I don't, however, share his incredible disdain for raw-food/organic/hippie/seitan/tofurkey/bulgur wheat/gross-looking hippie stuff, probably because I don't HAVE to eat it if I don't want.

So I stumbled into this place on 23rd, directly across the street from where the SS queue ends. It's one of these stores where the people are so friendly you're kind of guilted into their freaky-deaky Devendra Barnhardt ways - if you don't like what you've sampled, they give you something else to try until you feel too guilty to leave without buying anything.

The nutmeat (I can just hear Liam shivering now) salad was actually very good. But upon leaving, I was struck by the name of the establishment.

I left thinking, aren't those the sex monkeys? Not that I have a problem with sex monkeys, mind you. But I'm hoping that there's a really good explanation; maybe it's a combination of the owners' names (Bo, No, and Bo)? Doesn't sound very hippie to me, but who knows.

And here's the post from wikipedia. I learned much more than I needed to know.

Sexual intercourse plays a major role in Bonobo society, being used as a greeting, a means of conflict resolution and post-conflict reconciliation, and as favors traded by the females in exchange for food. Bonobos are the only non-human apes to have been observed engaging in all of the following sexual activities: face-to-face genital sex (most frequently female-female, then male-female and male-male), tongue kissing, and oral sex. When Bonobos come upon a new food source or feeding ground, the increased excitement will usually lead to communal sexual activity, assumedly decreasing tension and allowing for peaceful feeding.

I get the feeding part, but the rest kind of makes me not want to eat there again.

Karim Rashid versus Black&Decker

The company I now work for talks about 'creating desire' through design. And the best way of doing that, in my opinion, is by transforming things you live with into things you can't live without. Hence, my apartment cleaning this weekend.

This is what I desired:


This is what I bought:


(It actually looks much cooler as a graphic). The thing that really gets my goat is the fact that I forked out 50 bucks for the thing because I wanted it right away. I love supporting local business, but Bruno's is a total ripoff. Bed Bath and Beyond, why are you not in Brooklyn???

The two things that make me feel better for not going all Karim Rashid on my dustbuster are the facts that: 1)this actually works, and 2) this picture:



Now all I need is a cute puppy to knock things over. And ironically, it's the same pup as the one in the Dirt Devil ads, just grown up! Maybe that's supposed to mean something.

My Proactiv arrived. . . again

As a member of the Proactiv Clear Skin Club, I feel that it's my duty to speak some truths about this celebrity-endorsed (Kelly Clarkson! P Diddy! Jessica Simpson!) cache of products.

The soap stuff, like any other treatment you use faithfully every single day, works very well. It's benzoyl peroxide (yes, like the Oxy you used in 1985. BTW, I tried to get the "North Star" ad but it's been removed from YouTube for copyright violation. So here's a screen grab instead.)


But I love the fact that they 'advise' you to use the three products together, for 'optimal results.'

Because that's the only way this stuff will run out before they send you another one. Thing is, you can change how often you receive a special package from Guthy-Renker, and the maximum is 16 weeks (4 months). But I didn't know this until three packages showed up within weeks of each other. Now I have so much 'product' that I should be donating it to poor pimply kids in front of the megaplex by my house.

So if you need $45 worth of zit cream every few weeks, write me and maybe we can go halvsies on it.


And in the meantime, check out the video below. Can't see Howard Stern doing something like this.

Poor today

I was asked yesterday what I'd post if I ran out of money before payday.

Even if I'm scraping quarters together, I always get a cinnamon raisin with butter and a medium with skim milk and sweet-n-low. The carbs are bad, so sometimes I break rank and get eggs instead.

What cracks me up is the fact that i found this picture on a german tourist website for New York City.
http://www.usatourist.com/deutsch/places/newyork/nyctips.html

Gloomy Bear

After Afro Ken (pictured above), who (like most of us, face it) changes his afro to resemble and befriend the object or thing he most admires, my latest obsession is Gloomy Bear.




The story, as it was told to me, was like the fable with the frog and the scorpion; the moral was about the fact that no matter what the scorpion said, he would always be true to his nature as a scorpion. So when you're a kid, and you adopt a baby cub, don't be thinking that it's not going to eat you when it grows up. Simple.

Combine that with the Japanese toy market's predilection for kawaii (cuteness), and you get Gloomy Bear. How subversive, Mrs. Jones!

Here's what I've read online about it:

Designer toys like Gloomy Bear (pictured), created by Japan’s Mori Chack, are both cute and scary. Maybe that’s because in Japanese, the words “cute” (kawaii) and “scary” (kowai) are only a vowel apart. (cbc.ca article 5/11/05, http://www.cbc.ca/arts/photoessay/designertoys/)

An interview with Mori Chack, creator of Gloomy Bear, in Playtimes magazine.

In Japan, Gloomy is pronounced, “gurumi”, the last part of “nuigurumi” which means stuffed toy. Most stuffed toys are cute and cuddly, why did you make Gloomy violent but still retaining that trademark Japanese ‘kawaii’-ness?

It’s a combination of the meaning of the word, “GLOOMY”, as in “dark” and “obscure” as well as a twist on the Japanese word, “nui-gurumi”. I’d like to emphasize not only the meaning of the word, but the sound and catchiness of it. But if the word, “GLOOMY” also holds relevant meaning, it sticks in your mind. So it was the ideal name for the character. (playtimes magazine article, v1 issue 8, http://www.playtimes-magazine.com/vol01issue08.htm)

So many puns, no wonder Gloomy Bear got violent.

CoverFlow and covers

Not an original find (so what), but a really cool way to get me to buy more iTunes music.

"Flow" is a good generic name. www.steelskies.com/coverflow

And look at the great covers for my music purchases:

Thorncroft drinks

Beautifully-designed bottle neck labels for a new line of 'natural' sparkling 'adult' sugarwater.








From the deli on the way to work. My ginger-flavored beverage was pink - so cute - and it promised to relieve a 'healthy thirst.' Couldn't resist.

As flowery as the images, so is the website. www.thorncroftdrinks.co.uk

I just don't get it. And I'll be darned if a guy walks out of Lucky Deli with one of these.