Posts Tagged ‘world gone mad’
For a while I’ve been wanting to get an around-the-wrist tattoo, but haven’t quite been able to come up with the exactly right execution. Then the other day, Tribeca Mom says “You should get a Liberty print tattoo,” and I’m all like, “Oh My God, I totally should.”
And so I did.
Behold, the pre-distressed tee.
I love many things about New York City, but the fact that its public schools are often forced to privately raise funds just to keep their most important facilities up and running is not one of them. The East Village’s excellent Neighborhood School needs to raise $40,000 to keep its library on its feet for another year, so some clever parents have organized an online auction where you can bid on original art. Most of it is by children’s book illustrators—like this painting on wood of a little mouse ballerina girl by Alexandra Boiger, which has charm for miles. But there are grown-pieces too, like for example this very winning dog portrait, which genius illustrator Maira Kalman created for a new edition of The Elements of Style. Who can resist that face?
The past 72 hours have been trying. There has been unpleasant news. There have been unsavory encounters. And server crashes, because when bad things happen, they tend to pile on. So please indulge me for bringing you cute tops with animals printed on them, even though the last time I did so was not so very long ago. I’m pretty sure it’s my way of closing my eyes, going LALALALALA, and pretending everything’s fine.* Thanks for that. Lookie here guys: wee yellow birdies!
And zebras on a grid.
Butterflies, saved from too-cutesiness by a nice deep green.
Very origami-inspired kittycats on a super-slouchy top.
Birds looking remarkably wearable on a tank.
You have to really zoom in one this doggie print to fully appreciate its fantabulosity. Or maybe you just have to be a crazy-ass dog person.
*Which it will be.
…but it’s Thursday, and people are still talking about whether or not Beyonce lip synched the national anthem, and the very fact of that seems remarkable. Lip-synching is lame, but choosing to but do so when faced with a spectacularly large audience and challenging venue is far from unheard-of. It’d be nice if Ms. Knowles bestowed upon her public something beyond a ”No comment,” but—alas—this has precedent in the entertainment world as well. Personally, I’m far more mystified as to why she decided a floor-length Pucci gown was acceptable attire for the event—as though the inaugural was not a dignified day of historical significance, but instead just another stop on the sparkling world tour that is her life.
“We can’t be feminine and feminist and be successful? I want to be a f—king feminist and I want to wear a f–king Peter Pan collar. So f—king what?” That’s Zooey Deschanel in Glamour’s February issue, and God bless her. So nice to see a young lady happily embrace the word. At this point, maybe the word feminist has gotten so radioactive in our culture that there’s no reclaiming it. And truly, if a person is down with fighting the good fight, they can call themselves whatever they want. But are women who don’t identify as feminists getting involved in women’s issues like reproductive rights and violence against women? I’d love to think so, but I wonder. And honestly, I don’t get it: there’s so little risk involved in calling yourself a feminist now, something that was anything but the case back when the big battles were being fought. And it worries me to think about this younger generation (God, I hate how I sound but there it is) because they don’t get that the women who really made it happen didn’t take a machete through the woods just so we could all walk down the path they cleared for us and smell the pretty flowers. They did it so, when things like the freaking Violence Against Women Act gets killed by our lawmakers, as it did this week, there would still somebody around to make some noise.
Nobody seems to like that Microsoft’s ad guys took over the Times Square/Grand Central shuttle and made the cars mobile advertisements for their new Tablet, complete with video screens that play their ads on endless loop. But for some reason—like maybe that the Times Square/Grand Central Shuttle is a total drag of a subway line that manages to pack a lot of bummer into just one stop—this delights me. Of course, the fact that the shuttle’s only a 45-second ride is also what makes this seem OK—any longer than that, and a person could start feeling very Trapped at the Barbie Factory—as is the fact that it’s temporary.
Also, I like a well-executed bit of big dramatic marketing (see here) just as long as it’s ephemeral and not too disruptive.
It can also be innovative and really fun—check out this spot set in an Antwerp train station where commuters approach a Coke Zero machine that challenges them in a in a race against the clock to win tickets for Skyfall. And I think this Korean Coke machine/dance-off-bot is pretty amusing too. On the other hand, I curse the day Taxi TV was invented. We all have our limits. What are yours?
As if we didn’t already know how hard it is to find cute, even nominally on-trend plus-size clothes, here’s definitive proof, in the form of an actual academic study from the Journal of Consumer Research (which I’d love to pretend I read IRL, but instead learned of in The Cut). It chronicles the many ways in which plus-size bloggers have gained impressive ground in the mainstream media, and asserts that despite all of that, big name retailers and designers lag woefully behind in catering to the plus-size community’s needs. It’s all quite irksome—and curious, given that this is clearly a demographic that’s ready to spend. Happily, however, an interview with one of the article’s co-authors revealed a bumper crop of indie lines, my favorite of which is Carmakoma. They’re from Denmark but have American e-commerce, and are well worth exploring. I totally wish they made this filmy purply-black dress in non-plus sizes, as it is feminine but not too girly, and looks like the soul of comfort. You’d need to procure a slip, but one can easily accomplish this.
Also: this is precisely the type of dress/tunic thing I throw on with leggings and boots (albiet less hoochie ones than seen here) and live in all winter long.
OK, the shape on this one is definitely more retroish than I usually go in for, but the bird print is to die.
There is no fun in recognizing moments when you have become a cliche. But, I have decided, there is no shame in it either. So indulge me for a moment as I become That Woman and issue this complaint: why must designers persist in turning out otherwise desirable dresses with absurdly short hemlines? Why must finding something that hits significantly closer to the knee be so hard? What happened to the elegance, people? I do love this one by Saloni, though, because of its feminine, slightly retroish cut and because how could I not with that print?
I like the idea of wearing this Willow dress with black tights and a black cardigan—for sort of a reverse black and white effect, which always looks so cool.
Sweater dresses can be tricky, tricky for the less than flat-of-stomach,but that’s what Spanx are for, right? I have always been a sucker for the look of a super-low waistline: it just seems so slouchy and comfortable, and this Marc by Marc Jacobs dress feels like it could be one of the coziest pieces ever.
Another super-retroish, very flattering dress—by Tucker, who my enthusiasm for grows in direct proportion to how far they let themselves stray from their signature peasant dress template. I’m also very fond of the same dress in this print, but the springy green-on green is sweet and unexpected for fall.
If I needed a knockout dress for a party, I’d totally go for this one my Cynthia Rowley—not a designer who is usually my cup of tea, but I’d make a big fat exception here.
So according to the Hollywood Reporter, a Big Bang Theory producer is developing a family sitcom called Smells Like Teen Spirit, the premise of which “revolves around an 18 year-old budding entrepreneur who forgoes Harvard and instead opts to launch a multibillion-dollar internet company from his garage with the help of his sister, best friend and his 1990s indie-rock parents.” And the only thing that horrifies me more than the fact that this is happening is how predictable I find it that my aging indie rock ass is so horrified by it.