I am obsessed with things that go on my feet lately. And it doesn’t just stop at shoes–I’ve been eyeing socks and toe rings too. Fine, maybe not the toe rings although I’m predicting a comeback in Fall 2012.
And while I dream pennilessly of purchases that I can’t afford to make, I copy and paste my fantasies onto blog pages. These are wet dreams, sloppily drenched in drool and material-lust, and sadly, so far from being reality.
And with these pastel mint APC flats lurking, I should definitely treat myself to a one night “stand”. Har har har.
via Refinery 29
I enjoy French films not because I enjoy the directing or acting involved but because I like watching my personal style icons–these chic, classy, and cool French actresses–saunter into scenes,taking over with their sensuality. Anna Karina and Catherine Deneuve are two of my favorites.
via PATA MAGAZINE
Thanks to 2 or 3 Things, I was put on to this photo of a homemade alarm. Doesn’t get more DIY than this.
(A little throwback to “red”, which we covered a week and a half ago)
I am usually pretty offended by poorly-designed band and concert posters that get wheatpasted all over the city. Oh those days of lore: Posting bills illegally around town as a music loving steet-team junkie; getting arrested trying to put up a Ghostface poster on a street pole during SXSW. I remember going to extreme lengths to make sure my alltimefavoriteband was getting enough recognition. Sadly, half the time, the bills I carefully aligned and staplegunned/taped to even and uneven planes were hideous. Where did all the cool poster designers go? I remember wistfully longing for old Wes Wilson-style poster designs; instead I was stuck with bad type, cheesy logos, and unflattering photography.
But I saw the poster above, which was designed by Justin Cox of Austin-based design collective, Public School for one of my favorite bands, Ratatat. It’s clever, clean, and intriguing. I like a bit of mystery in my posters. I also don’t need to see photos of the band doing silly emo poses (ie, leaning against a graffiti-embellished wall or kicking dirt along a railroad track).
Figuratively blue, read below.
ZINE IN THE WORKS
I’m putting together a literary/visual arts journal that will feature works by aspiring/professional writers, photographers, illustrators, musicians etc. Each issue’s theme will relate to understated (and sometimes overstated) human experiences. It’s a cognitive examination of how we feel and why we feel. It’s an opportunity to commiserate and celebrate with others creatively (and anonymously, if you’d prefer…)
The first issue is called “How to Say Goodbye”. It is inspired by stories of loss, regret, guilt and the emotional implosion of break-ups and unrequited love. Fiction/non-fiction/funny/sad all apply. The main criterion is that your work is your own.
Please pass this along to interested parties and other creative minds. Contributors will receive a free copy of the zine/journal (sorry I can’t monetarily reimburse your for your contribution! How recessionista of me…) Deadline will be: April 6 (Monday), deadline extended.
Thanks so much!
Diane / Phishsos@hotmail.com
Hedi Slimane’s Diary is one of my favorite things to look at when I’m in need of a visual-gasm, which is often. When I think of black, I think of the Hedi Slimane aesthetic, and subsequently his inspiring photo journal.
Onto my third week of German language studies, and one word I’ve developed a crush on is schwarz, which means black in English. Today, I’m donning schwarz from head to toe. I’m channeling Karl Lagerfeld, who happens to be German. Karl Lagerfeld = schwarz, all day everyday (with a dash of weiss around the head region).