Friday, October 30, 2009

let's talk stalk

lights...models...guest list...just do your best, darling

ok so i had a great idea on the subway today. this idea has occurred to me several times before, of course, but today i actually acknowledged the viability of it and considered actually executing it TOday.
so i think it would be super fun to pick a particularly interesting person riding the same subway as you, and follow them. get off when they get off, and stalk them! yes, stalk them. follow them like you've been hired by a distraught significant other and trace their steps from several feet behind. if they stop at starfucks for a cinnamon latte, you trail two people behind and order a green tea (subsequent preparation time can really slow a stalker down and if your target ducks into a bathroom while you're not looking, it can mean disaster!)
and once you've 'accompanied' them to their destination, you must find the nearest reflective surface and look yourself in the eye and laugh laugh laugh that you've actually just followed someone you didn't know for reasons you've yet to reveal, thus validating every self-deprecating stalker joke you've ever made.

life can be so fun.


Thursday, October 22, 2009

obituary v. 2

sticky and sweet

once again, the sweet life of one of ny's finest has been snuffed by the very pressures that tend the fires of fabulous.
deceased: bryanambition
date/time of death: october 21, 2009; 10:23 pm
cause of death: cosmetic asphyxiation

that's right--michael hutchence isn't the only one who died for pleasure--poor guy thrilled himself a bit too much while choking the chicken and ended up a KFC special. in the never ending race against time and aging, this medieval gadget known as the face trainer has found its way into the hearts and onto the heads of the forever young, yours truly one of the newest devotees. you basically strap on the contrap and voila! instant resistance created by the ergonomic shape of this neoprene genius causes your facial muscles to work themselves out, thus creating an equinox for the face. kind of crazy, right? aside from being scary as shit and helping the wearer to capture their very own hannibal lector moment, i kind of get it. as my beauty motto has consistently been "if it doesn't hurt, it doesn't work" this mask rates a 15 on the discomfort scale of 1-10, and considering it's most effective at night and therefore should be worn to bed, one would expect those uber-obsessed with beauty would share a similar penchant for prescription sleep aids, thus increasing the efficacy.
so after donning my new bedfellow tonight, if i fail to wake tomo, at least i'll be creaseless.


Sunday, October 04, 2009

cumulative smells of the past

**written on the berry, so deal with the lack of italics**

i kind of love when you put on an item of clothing that you wear repeatedly without consistent washes, and it has an aroma of a variety of fragrances, the levels of which you could really distinguish between if you really put the olfactory to work, and how each fragrance, once separated from the amalgamation contained within the fibers of your garment, recalls a particular event or special occurrence. or just relaxing in front of a documentary or six.

yeah, i definitely love that.

and how about the fact that everybody who works at the airport is weird? i'm weird--should i be working at the airport?

peace for now, ya'll. spain, here i come. the BRYANAMBITION tour is back on, bitches.


Saturday, October 03, 2009

tear jerk off

have you ever heard music so beautiful it made you cry? not like fuckin' backstreet boys' 'i want it that way' reminding you of your former heterosexual days and debbie lemon's milky white breasts on your yellow chenille bedspread while your parents watched who wants to be a millionaire? i'm talking about when music hits something inside of you, a chord (no pun intended) that when perfectly rung vibrates the whole of you, from your heart outwards, and makes you actually cry, out of what i imagine is joy.
i may have just rolled a tear onto my lapel. and i'm wearing a t-shirt.

Friday, October 02, 2009

rub it in

today i'm trashin' fashion.

so today i'm wearing my most festive item of clothing, and no, it's not one of my mother's borrowed quacker factory sweaters. it's my pair of vans made to look like jack-o-lanterns, and i couldn't be happier in them. aside from the giggles they garner on the subway, the sheer audacity of a 22 year old sporting something that was no doubt intended for the petite feet of, say a five year old gives me more pleasure than my first fifth grade orgasm.
onto bigger and duller things. observing all the sartorial goings on overseas, i.e. milan and paris, my embitterment has caused me to really think about fashion. the force that governs something we see every day. you know, the industry that pays me what some may refer to as a salary.
after pondering why fashion is the "it" of the moment, contributing flimsy plots and shallow inspiration to books, movies and television shows alike, i've come to a conclusion: fashion is so highly regarded by so many simply because it's so criticized. the protective layer in which we drape our bodies is always under such intense scrutiny we end up spending more time, money and effort caring for it than we do for our skin. and this opprobrium extends to fashion in all its forms--as art, as personal choice of exterior decoration, and as mere functional shielding against the external elements. additionally, this formidable force fashion is ends up spontaneously generating its own set of rules and regulations, a governing body of laws that ensure all wearers of clothing, basically 98% of the world's population, are constantly monitored by their own insecurities and abide by such militant enforcers we call "trends."
federally-imposed laws prevent people from being naked in public, and those same institutional rules and regulations have given birth to a petty brood of superficial, fickle and fiercely harsh laws that govern, and subsequently protect, the opinion, rather than the function, of the society that exists around how people choose to abide by the law of "no nudity." it's not simply a matter of covering up--just as the revolution shall be accessorized, so should your conscious decision to be a law-abiding citizen. these laws of fashion are less lenient than the constitutional ones that mold and support our nation. self-appointed fashion police are constantly chattering disapproval and criticism and arbitrary reason for change from our TVs, movie screens, and pages of in touch and us weekly.
so basically, the laws state, "one must wear something on the exterior of one's body to shield the rest of the world from the potentially unsightly presence of one's pee-pees and boobies," then in the most demonic form of nepotism, sic their bratty paris kardashian kids on the legislation aspect, yielding "who wore it better" and pushing red carpet coverage from intellectual discussion of awards to be presented to whose clothing designs one sports, and all the catty rivalry that's accompanied.

the fact is, fashion, what wikipedia describes as, "styles and customs prevalent at a given time" is inescapable. it's as difficult to avoid as it is to relate. you know, everybody "loves" fashion. you could have a job picking out discarded items of clothing out of the staten island landfill but as long as your title reads something like, "sanitation fashion extractor" you'll never be short of the oohs and aahs of admiration. whether or not one consciously subscribes to the tenets and statues of fashion, they're still slowing at store windows and leafing through vogue in the checkout line, and for what? because marc jacobs' fall '09 line matters more to them then they care to admit, and even though they may be sporting hot pink elastic waistbanded sweatpants in that very checkout line, they're confident in the fact that someone else out there looks worse (according to the laws of fashion) than they do, and that's ok. right?
whether your pret-a-porter is saint laurent or a snuggie, you can't escape the laws of fashion by virtue of the necessity of clothing.

i'm a real hater today.