I have been, am currently, and always will be smitten with Steve Martin.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Wabbit Season, Duck Season
(A certain someone said he didn't get this post. It's calling attention to the silliness that is the concept of "boyfriend season" as if there were a specified calendar date for obtaining said boyfriend and that there was a conclusion to this relationship based on some specified time further in the future. And I think that's darn funny.)
Speaking Of Tigers
This is why I love reading Elyse Sewell's blog. Oh, and the witty humor and madcap adventures in foreign lands are pretty good too.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
Now It All Makes Sense
Cory Kennedy, internet phenom, revealed! I admit it. I've been fascinated by her. She's certainly no phony like LonelyGirl and there is something quite charming about her blogged spelling errors and thinly veiled monikers for her celeb friends. She, unlike the Parises and Lindsays of the world, seemed to have something about her that kept her back from all the madness and it turns out it's her parents. Sure, they just fully caught on, but what teenager hasn't deceived her parents in the name of fun? Hell, I still do.
But, that being said, I still want her to brush her hair and stop using the lower lid liner. I've said it before and I'll say it again - it seems like a good idea but then your parents hang a collage of your senior photos up in the hallway and suddenly you can't stand to see yourself so defiled.
Anyway, back to CK. Of all those girls out there in internetland, I think she's the most real. She's not constantly checking herself to make sure she's liked, to see if she's popular. She just is who she is - a slightly rumpled mess who, although interested in her own celebrity, isn't addicted. Or at least she doesn't appear to be. Hopefully she'll take a breather and after gaining some perspective on this wacky life, she'll get back to doing photographable things. Not because I want her to, but because she wants to.
A/W 2007 RTW: Paris: Viktor & Rolf
Sometimes it's just best to let the fashion speak for itself. It's well-lit, well-hung self.
A/W 2007 RTW: Paris: Rick Owens
I sorta missed the inbetweens, but Paris is up and oh do I love the Paris shows. I watched Rick Owens' austere, beetley show and couldn't help but think his version of things is far more futuristic than anything Balenciaga did last season. Sure, the future could be bright and shiny like Ghesquiere's ensembles, but I see it more Owens in style - dark, moody clothes with creative shapes and thick outerwear. Certainly this will protect you from nuclear winter far better than skinny pants. The clydesdale feet were a distraction as I couldn't take my eyes off their flopping, but the necessary side view executed at the end of the first section of the runway was a must. Seeing these garments in profile, and in motion, set them apart as still shots simply don't do them justice.
And yes, I'm amazed that I liked this show as much as I did considering I'm currently wearing my brand new blue and white striped sailor girl shoes which could be the exact antithesis of the Owens' aesthetic.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Can I Have Your Watch When You Are Dead?
On gloomy February days like this one, my thoughts turn, like Gorey's probably did, to the events of my funeral. Mind you, this is far from morbid and once I explain just what I want, you'll understand.
I've got a list an arm's length long somewhere of all the songs I want to have played, but this post of Fraction's on Flickr reminded me of one of them and since my family and friends will obviously be so grief stricken as to forget my true wishes and will instead opt for the "Beaches" soundtrack, minus the upbeat numbers, played at some dreary locale so I'm relying on you, Dan Evans' mother-in-law, to make sure the following things get done. Thanks in advance.
1. So I'm Dead. Let's Party!
No morbid funeral home for THIS girl. Book Duff's restaurant, especially the bar part of the restaurant, and invite everyone there. Ask Jimmy and Karen (the head chef and co-owner, respectively) to make black bean ravioli and creole eggs benedict, extra sauce, for everyone. Bloody Marys, Greyhounds, and champagne for all until everyone's roaring toasted.
2. Critical: Foam Fingers
I've long promised that there will be foam fingers at my funeral that read "Amy Was #1" because who couldn't use a little whimsy at a time like this? Plus, foam fingers really are the most under-appreciated of the foam products. Nerf schmerf. Cheers may be also be created.
3. Serious: Ditties
I'm not in the mood for a pack of dreary dirges after I've moved along. Let's focus on the fun! There's plenty of time for everyone to hum "Danny Boy", this party's got to have it's share of bouncy 80s and 90s tracks like "Ice, Ice Baby" and "The Goonies R Good Enough". Subtle reminders like Rockwell's "Somebody's Watchin' Me" are encouraged. Your son-in-law should have some good ideas.
4. Fair: Kleenex
Assuming my mother's still around when this event occurs, she's not going to go for all this hootenanny. So, keep her appeased with her share of tissues and shoulders. She cries at Jell-o commercials so you best be warned that no amount of Sir Mix-A-Lot is going to rouse her to dance on the bar. (Oh, yeah. Dancing on the bar around my urn is definitely okay with me, if it's okay with Karen.) Also, when someone inevitably makes a photo montage as they are apt to do these days, please make sure the photo of me with the hideous Annie-style perm and the embroidered duck sweater doesn't make it on there. Seriously. Fair is fair and that photo is so unfair that I will probably come back to haunt someone over it. Let's not have that weighing on your conscience. And most photos from high school should only be used as warnings to the youth in attendance - lower lid eyeliner isn't your daily friend. It should be treated warily and used only when going for a smoky eye.
5. Good: You've Got To Urn It.
Speaking of that urn, I've read Stiff and would like to be donated to science. What the heck, right? At least some use will come of my dead weight. After that, ashes to ashes, pop me in some urn, and after the party, get me down to Jake's in Jamaica and have Sally Henzell build me into some building by the ocean. That'll be nice a nice way to end the party - a long, tropical island vacation. Just what I've always wanted.
So, that's about it, Dan Evans' mother-in-law. Hope this isn't too much trouble for you. Let me know if you need any further advice or if you'd like elaboration on any of these points. Naturally, creativity is encouraged, but the pinata filled with ashes probably isn't a good idea (I know, I've considered it).
I've got a list an arm's length long somewhere of all the songs I want to have played, but this post of Fraction's on Flickr reminded me of one of them and since my family and friends will obviously be so grief stricken as to forget my true wishes and will instead opt for the "Beaches" soundtrack, minus the upbeat numbers, played at some dreary locale so I'm relying on you, Dan Evans' mother-in-law, to make sure the following things get done. Thanks in advance.
1. So I'm Dead. Let's Party!
No morbid funeral home for THIS girl. Book Duff's restaurant, especially the bar part of the restaurant, and invite everyone there. Ask Jimmy and Karen (the head chef and co-owner, respectively) to make black bean ravioli and creole eggs benedict, extra sauce, for everyone. Bloody Marys, Greyhounds, and champagne for all until everyone's roaring toasted.
2. Critical: Foam Fingers
I've long promised that there will be foam fingers at my funeral that read "Amy Was #1" because who couldn't use a little whimsy at a time like this? Plus, foam fingers really are the most under-appreciated of the foam products. Nerf schmerf. Cheers may be also be created.
3. Serious: Ditties
I'm not in the mood for a pack of dreary dirges after I've moved along. Let's focus on the fun! There's plenty of time for everyone to hum "Danny Boy", this party's got to have it's share of bouncy 80s and 90s tracks like "Ice, Ice Baby" and "The Goonies R Good Enough". Subtle reminders like Rockwell's "Somebody's Watchin' Me" are encouraged. Your son-in-law should have some good ideas.
4. Fair: Kleenex
Assuming my mother's still around when this event occurs, she's not going to go for all this hootenanny. So, keep her appeased with her share of tissues and shoulders. She cries at Jell-o commercials so you best be warned that no amount of Sir Mix-A-Lot is going to rouse her to dance on the bar. (Oh, yeah. Dancing on the bar around my urn is definitely okay with me, if it's okay with Karen.) Also, when someone inevitably makes a photo montage as they are apt to do these days, please make sure the photo of me with the hideous Annie-style perm and the embroidered duck sweater doesn't make it on there. Seriously. Fair is fair and that photo is so unfair that I will probably come back to haunt someone over it. Let's not have that weighing on your conscience. And most photos from high school should only be used as warnings to the youth in attendance - lower lid eyeliner isn't your daily friend. It should be treated warily and used only when going for a smoky eye.
5. Good: You've Got To Urn It.
Speaking of that urn, I've read Stiff and would like to be donated to science. What the heck, right? At least some use will come of my dead weight. After that, ashes to ashes, pop me in some urn, and after the party, get me down to Jake's in Jamaica and have Sally Henzell build me into some building by the ocean. That'll be nice a nice way to end the party - a long, tropical island vacation. Just what I've always wanted.
So, that's about it, Dan Evans' mother-in-law. Hope this isn't too much trouble for you. Let me know if you need any further advice or if you'd like elaboration on any of these points. Naturally, creativity is encouraged, but the pinata filled with ashes probably isn't a good idea (I know, I've considered it).
I Suck At This Game
And yet I can't stop playing. I die and die and die again and squeal for little Mario each time. Poor kid. He hasn't got a chance with me at the helm.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Walking Oscar Is Actually My Muffinhead
My dear friend Chris Cuddihee who took me to prom and has been my lifelong darling is in the news because Angelina thinks he's cute.
I 'bout spit my tea all over Rosie as I scrolled through A Socialite's Life and read his name between items about crazy celebrities.
I 'bout spit my tea all over Rosie as I scrolled through A Socialite's Life and read his name between items about crazy celebrities.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
What A Blessing We Still Have "SuperNanny"
Yes, yes, I know that Nanny Jo isn't part of the HBO pantheon, but it sincerely steams my green beans when they cancel a show as well done as "Deadwood" and we're stuck with half-shows about misbehaving brats, grouchy doctors, and the clowns in the insufferable "CSI" parade.
I'd take a surly Olyphant over an unintentionally comedic Olyphant any day.
Hot Damn
I am smitten kitten with this photo of Danielle's granny. Now that's hellfire personified.
When people ask me why I want to get into gerontology, I would like to reference this photo from now on.
When people ask me why I want to get into gerontology, I would like to reference this photo from now on.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Miss Julie
Miss Julie,
I've come to realize, this movie is why I've always called you "Miss Julie". And it comes as no surprise that my namesake's in there too. Perhaps this was our first appearance together, way back in 1938.
L,
Miss Amy
Behnaz, Send One To The Caboose
This is something to diet/sweat for. This creation is just swoonable. Sweet Sarafpour, your Target collection was a miss for me, but this is absolute minimalist perfection. Why can't this be $35 dollars down on Hampton?
(Have I mentioned my Proenza Schouler purchases? Green Chainlink Tank, Grey striped ladycoat, and dove colored blazer cut perfectly for spring. Thanks, pretty boys.)
(Have I mentioned my Proenza Schouler purchases? Green Chainlink Tank, Grey striped ladycoat, and dove colored blazer cut perfectly for spring. Thanks, pretty boys.)
Victor Garber?
Non, c'est William Wyler.
He directed "Jezebel" and oh, how I love that movie. But the extras contain a WB cartoon about mice. Seems odd for an antibellum melodrama.
But back to the Garber connection. Honestly, is it the ears or is there more?
He directed "Jezebel" and oh, how I love that movie. But the extras contain a WB cartoon about mice. Seems odd for an antibellum melodrama.
But back to the Garber connection. Honestly, is it the ears or is there more?
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
We're Not All Possessed
Seriously. It's women like this that give normal, well-adjusted women a bad name. We finally make headway in the astronaut corps and we've got a Speaker of the House and, well, Ellen's gay and on the cover of W magazine and then WHAM! out of the blue, one of us has to go insane and wear adult diapers to get to Orlando faster.
Blindsided, the women of the nation carry on as we attempt to put this, boiled bunnies, Lizzie Borden, and child-loving schoolteachers behind us. I mean couldn't she just have Pontelliered it?
Blindsided, the women of the nation carry on as we attempt to put this, boiled bunnies, Lizzie Borden, and child-loving schoolteachers behind us. I mean couldn't she just have Pontelliered it?
And Since It's Already Frozen
I might as well admit that I thoroughly enjoyed John Galliano's Christian Dior couture presentation back in January.
Oh, who am I kidding? I fucking loved it. Amazing use of an atelier. It was like the Galliano of yore before he decided that each show should have clown makeup and fucked-up shoes. Well, this one had that too, but WITH A PURPOSE.
Arctic Chill
I believe the current cold snap has less to do with that map than it does with the fact that hell has just frozen over.
I actually liked a Marc Jacobs' show.
Now I didn't love it, but it was tolerable. I didn't scoff or guffaw ONCE and that's seriously saying something.
New Trend.
Exposed zippers.
(as seen for A/W RTW at 3.1 Phillip Lim & Abaete. For spring, reference Sarafpour.)
Not to mention page 179 of the March 2007 issue of Teen Vogue.
I vote disappointing on this one. I've always hated exposed zippers. They remind me of cheaply rehabbed vintage - someone carelessly shoehorns, say, a silver, junky YKK into a diaphanous pink gown. Not that I have any experience with this, natch.
The Wheels Of Justice
They've run me over. After a morning of Go Fish games with girl-I-walked-from-the-parking-lot-next-to Karin, I was called up for a civil trial. Blah. Civil. Turns out the car accident I was in a few years ago precluded me so after a moderately lazy day of card games, small talk, lunch with Marty, and incredibly long walks in the incredible cold, I was done.
Fare thee well, wheels of justice. I'll see you again in three years.
Hot Coco
Nearly every model generation, there's one sugar that gives me the heebies. A few years ago it was Jade Parfitt in those eerie Versace ads. This time 'round, it's Coco Rocha. Now don't get me wrong, I'm sure she's an absolute darling - witty at all the right times, forgiving of transgressions, kind to lost kittens - but that doesn't stop me from thinking that she's going to reach 'cross the runway and pull a vein out of my neck.
We're Friends, Right?
I just logged into Friendster and learned that I haven't been Friendstering for nearly two years. And I haven't missed it at all. But it was amazing to see how much their layout mirrors MySpace.
And that's the best blog post you'll read all day.
And that's the best blog post you'll read all day.
Friday, February 02, 2007
It's On
(image from style.com)
For those thrilled to begin the criticism, yet need to brush up on your pronunciation, this might help.
It's Bah-len-see-ah-gah.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
I Hope You Can See This Because I'm Doing It As Hard As I Can
It's the Bostonites against the Mooninites.
Boston doesn't have bigger problems? I find it scandalous that in other major metropolitan cities, no one has freaked out. Chicago? I lived there. Those people can spaz like you wouldn't believe. Lake effect? Makes 'em crazy! But Boston? You've taken it to a new level. Get over it and get back to sorting out the Big Dig corruption.
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