Thursday, June 17, 2010

falling off the wagon

so last night was my first fashion party in ages, but it can't quite qualify as me having fallen off the wagon, considering there was no temporary euphoric high. and rather than rant and, well, rant about how it went, i thought i'd sum it up in a cache of memorable quotes:

"i think she's a little overdressed." "a little?" "ugh, and that jewelry--honey, it's lariats of fire!"

"see that dark corner where nobody's standing? get me there. the less i see, the better."

"as for the hors d'oeuvres, solely comprised of mini cupcakes, i have apt bite-sized advice: a moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. little moment, little lifetime. think about it."

in response to all the gaga references, both implied by the overwhelming presence of holey leather pieces and fingerless gloves and such, as well as the fact that the words "lady" and "gaga" hung like a dank cloud not far above the crowed, "that lady gaga is a pain in the ass, and not the good kind."

as for the abundance of men's gladiator sandals, "i wrote a status about those once, and you know that's never a good thing."

after making the acquaintance of a boy named "pasha," "you know as well as i do that guy was born roger herbert himmelstein. his l.l. bean backback read RHH until he was 13 and found one of his mother's vogues."

"wow, nice pale pink jacket. i've never seen that one before." and to same unfortunate wearer, "honey, is that a comb over?"

"there's more lady gaga in here than on the girl who thinks she's madonna."

"bowties should never be paired with daisy dukes. never."

"nothing makes a cheap dress look worse than a room full of cut-off tank tops."

"this place is full of so much unintentional irony." "there is a lot of irony in here." "but do they know they're being ironic?" "even alanis got the meaning of that word wrong, and she wrote a song about it." "do they think they're being fashionable?" "probably, but i think they're just assholes."

"this place is a testament to the fact that hair products should require a license to be purchased. last time i saw hair this bad was when i thought about the hair at this party."

regarding the two boys who feigned twindom by dressing like "identical" nerds, "don't you dare tell me they're from brooklyn, the land where kitch grows on trees and hummus is a food group."

and that about sums it up.


Friday, June 11, 2010

i can't friday

today, the latest testament that no one is safe from my photographic reign of terror

so one of my usual tirades of wicked, impetuous judgment brought on by tired mornings made me particularly attuned to this kicky topper, and not surprisingly as i made my way down the UWS, the city's archive of old school weirdos, housing in perfect preservation both the pre-stonewall queens, admirably deluded into thinking chaps and gold hoop earrings are still in, as well as the oddly articulate "ladies who layer," a term that describes both their excessive use of sunscreen that results in a signature ghostly pallor, and their tendency to layer as much color and texture as their vintage laura ashley and chico's wardrobe will allow, into a fashion statement that best resembles a cross between your favorite braided rug and a renaissance fair costume, all providing an essential enclave of vital new york city heritage, sort of like a living diorama from the museum of natural history but set to a donna summer-heavy soundtrack.

and it was in that milieu, that hat. clearly a conscious decision on her part, and even clearer are the demons that possessed the quadrant of her brain responsible for common sense.
girlfriend looked like mackenzie phillips from the front, which would have explained a lot, what with the tomes of psychological studies linking the cranial use of boiled wool with childhood incest and all, but i was still trying to understand why this "i made it on the daily bus ride to and from make your own granola class' arts and crafts hive of hell finds itself atop a head in full salute in the middle of june. and just when i thought the answer would dawn on me, it sat down next to me, and the faux crackled leather skirt that nudged my leg roused up a whole 'nother hive of issues.

and what's why nyc will kill ya if you live here too long.


[ed. note: this was the 200th entry. candles.]

Wednesday, June 09, 2010

breathing in

i don't think one should ever finish a book they enjoy in any place other than their favorite. take it for granted that one's favorite place can change whenever one discovers a more superior destination deserving of one's personal devotion. the course of the book can be enjoyed anywhere one pleases, whether consummating a quiet night at home, providing an entertaining distraction while in transit, or infusing an academic pursuit with relative knowledge, but the that book should not end where it is not appreciated, bathed in a light of complete love and openness of heart. to finish a book where you can't appreciate is to do that book an injustice.

the hypocrite of circumstance i am, at least for today, finished the sun also rises, a book i had to quickly mature well beyond my years to appreciate, while barreling down the west side this morning, and even though the ending can be filed under 'bittersweet,' assigning to it a cliche that makes it more memorable, i suppose, all i remember is the word 'pretty' and i'm none too pleased about that. call it lack of willpower. call it overwhelmingly compelling. what makes me happier than happy, though, is the tsunami that surged through that subway car at the very moment of conclusion. regardless of my ephemeral state, i still felt hit by the immense weight of every word that formed the final quote as it happened, sealing the book as the most intense of memories, a vicarious experience full of places and textures and smells and wetness i never lived. but it wasn't the cresting tsunami that hits the island and clears a path of destruction, it was the infantile tsunami, the one that slightly lifts the tiny boats that ironically bob on the surface of the ocean many miles out, as it passes underneath them, imperceptible but carrying the same mighty weight that will both change and end lives a matter of minutes after the tiny swell nobody even notices. i was the tsunami, the other passengers were the boats. i didn't let out a sound or even twitch in reaction, but exuded an electricity, and everybody in that car exited an ion at the next stop.

and that is me, for today.