Hidden puddle under a slate sidewalk slab soaks my shoes,
Mariachi band plays on a soccer field, in the twillight, and umbrella people witness,
Slimy slug crawls across a bumpy wall to the floor, next to my bed,
Damp air slows drying laundry.
Renata
The Smiths will never let you down. (also see: “Rubber Ring”)
"O'Hara was a major writer who tried to convince himself he was a minor one. His best work either ignored or teased the coterie he partied with, but as he grew older he found it easier to fight off loneliness by immersing himself in an always-welcoming group than by opening himself to the risks of any intimacy that might relieve it…….The more time O'Hara spent barhopping with his coterie, the fewer poems he wrote, and the more convinced he became that he had nothing more to say."
–Edward Mendelson, "What We Love, Not Are," on Selected Poems by Frank O'Hara, published in The New York Review of Books, September 25, 2008
Who makes the most weatherproof umbrella? Last time I got caught in the rain (white t-shirt no less…ah, summer rain), I upgraded from the usual $3 one to a leopard print umbrella by Totes. I used it only once and already one of the spokes has come undone. And it wasn’t even raining that hard, or at all windy!
I had a Marc Jacobs umbrella as well, and it was the worst. Not only did it cut up my fingers every time I closed it (those little metal things, what are they called? I was terrified of them as a kid), it wasn’t even waterproof! If there were ever more than a sprinkle of rain, it would soon be dripping on the inside.
I was very happy when someone borrowed it and never gave it back.
Other umbrellas in my either currently or formerly include a hot pink one by Nanette Lepore (a freebie; I loaned it to my roommate Simon once because I thought it would be hilarious to picture him walking around town with it. He lost it), a mod print wooden handle umbrella by Banana Republic that weighs about 10 pounds, a purple umbrella given to me by a former fling, and of course about a billion of those super cheap black ones that can be found on most street corners during inclement weather.
A friend of mind once wrote a blurb in Bookforum in the voice of Casey Spooner about what he was reading…the only part of it that I remember is that it had to do with carrying a bookstrap around…
“Apollinaire’s prescription for poetry was to always carry an umbrella around, but to never actually open it. When I go out I carry a book around on my Matt Murphy-designed book strap, but never feel the need to actually read it.”
Or something like that.
Renata
On my way to Anna Sui. She was headed backstage.
She’s very petite.
Renata
I would love to start writing fashion reviews this way. At least the ones in New York anyway, where ideas are pretty thin.
The above is for Max Azria, quite possibly the most lackluster, uninspired show I’ve seen this week.
Though on days where my head isn’t shattered in a thousand pieces, you might catch me praising something boring as “elegant in its simplicity” or some other sort of BS like that.
Michael Kors, in a word: “Happy”
After the show he said he has always been a glass-half-full-not-empty kind of optimist, and you could feel it in these clothes. You could roll around in a big feather bed cloud of happiness. I never like Kors but I loved this one. Maybe its nostalgia for the primary colors my mom used to dress me in. Plus, it said something varied but maintained cohesiveness. Maybe I wouldn’t necessarily wear it, but as an artistic statement, as a collection, it made sense.
Renata
http://nymag.com/daily/food/2008/08/albert_trummers_knowledge_apot.html
Samara Davis, Jennifer Sullivan, Erica Magrey, Margaret Lee and Renata Espinosa
Let us WOW you tomorrow.
Life: an excuse for an anecdote. Thinking of anecdotes as accessories, carried in a book strap. The title tells you everything you need to know and conveys the essential point. Good title: leaves ...
Coaxed into covering a chocolate show involving fashion made of chocolate, I cast aside my inhibitions. “Unleash the chocoholicism!” is what this event invites. Throngs descend upon the West Side Highway, a sight I’m more accustomed to seeing in the daylight, for the Armory Show. West 50th Street is a desolate strip between 10th Avenue and now, all FedEx and horse stables and double parked cars. I stop over the Amtrak rails, my favorite spot in Midtown, it reminds me of Manhattan’s history as a hub of industry and trade, the grand connector between far off lands and the heartland, the mountains, the desert, the Pacific Coast…now Doritos wrappers and Burger King bags line the rails, probably needles and condoms and shit, too. Well that’s history, too. “What opera is like a railwayline? —The Rose of Castile. See the wheeze? Rows of cast steel. Gee!”
I love how designers are redefining the word "minimalism." Merriam-Webster: Main Entry:min·i·mal·ism Pronunciation: \ˈmi-nə-mə-ˌli-zəm\ Function:noun Date:19291 : a style or technique (as in music, literature, or design) that is characterized by extreme spareness and simplicity 2 : minimal art Today we have Rogan Gregory doing what he terms "soulful minimalism." Imagine a Richard Serra sculpture (Gregory's favorite artist, fyi). Minimalism that's been left outside to rust, weather and age. As the parlance goes: Minimalism with a twist! Rogan points to the concrete floor inside his showroom and store. "When they first poured it, they made it perfect and smooth...and I looked at it and thought, no, that's not right." Rogan likes things to be a little fucked up, he said. Don't we all! How does this translate to the clothes?
Gold Pants Dance from Julie, who got it from Dyna. Ladies, I thank you.