Dispatches from a second story bedroom

a regular Herbert

 
  

I remembered Michael Caine having a vaguely hot wife but I had no idea this scorcher has been married to him since the early 70s. Eat your heart out Helen Mirren. I'm glad for him, he's earned it by being so obviously great.  And honestly who stays married for 40 years anymore? My parents? Actually yes, but I mean people who have the sanctioned ability to be total poonhounds and choose to stay married to a single solitary goddess. Good one Mick.

I'm not sure why all my fashion icons are men. I want every pair of Michael Caine's glasses from 1965(Icpress File)-1985(Hannah and Her Sisters) and to name them accordingly. Maybe we could start a Lenscrafters pop-up shop in Barneys (Simon, call me!).  It worked for Albert Maysles, didn't it? I think he really hit his groove in 1974. I would call this model, the Carnahan. 

apolitical apoplexy

As a union dues paying member here is a centennial celebration I can get behind. I've been excited for it all week and everything has been a total bizarro world confluence leading up to Friday, March 25th 2011. 

One: Go ahead and Netflix stream the PBS documentary about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory. The ending will haunt your dreams. 

Two: Watch an episode of Venture Bros. that makes a Jacob Riis joke. Spend an hour looking at Riis photos after being reminded he exists. Think about why The Alienist was never made into a movie. Wonder what it would take for Scott Rudin to make that happen. 

Three: Watch the entire North and South series to get your Northern England industrial Victorian squalor on. Especially helpful if there's a Downton Abbey shaped hole in your life and you need more quiet Brendan Coyle dignity in your diet. 

It'll be kind of difficult to do this all on a Friday but maybe make a weekend of it? Celebrate unionization and child labor laws!  Do it! 

a day to end all days

 

What is up ding dong Magoos? I was going to post this on our nation's blessed half birthday because it is so utterly prescient to my life at the mo' but got hung up on Pre-Fall Céline dreams and outlet shopping. Seriously ladies, GO BUY SWEATERS NOW. It seems antithetical to what your crazy rhythms are portending but DO IT. You won't regret having 25 dollar cashmere in your closet ever. I don't care that your ovaries are pining for an unmade baby to birth in two months, don't listen to them, your brains are in charge! Smart moms know. Glove up, et.al.  

 A word about cardigans, they're pretty much ruined right? If you're anything like me there's a definite queen-y factor that is hard to get around but if you buy a size larger and wear them backwards it puts you on a bullet train to Kinski-town. Win! Another tip from the internet into my life and onto yours. Even if you're chesty, this is attainable, just make sure you find a nice silk camisole that covers your busted t-shirt bra. 

the Kobayashi

Kate Moss must be some kind of fashion savant because her mouth does not work right. No wonder she pulled a Garbo for so long. Ace move sweetheart. Way to play to your strengths.

I have been mentally obsessing over this 2003 spread. Am I jonesing hard for the early 2000s now that we're leaving this decade in the dust? Bay Garnett is my azimuth compass. And that compass is telling me it's ok to wear sweats with gigantic Wilma-sized pearls.

When I stay in bed all day eating bon bons and watching In Treatment, sweat pants begin to become a concept I toy with. Why not sweatpants?  Tell me. And I mean real shitty high waisted 50/50 cotton poly blend $9.99 at K-mart sweatpants, not luxury cashmere blend Rick Owens that need to be dry cleaned or handwashed. I am talkin' super-laze for the girl who does her own laundry. Ones that if you put in the time with become as soft as old flannel. You gotta do the work. It is a process!

I have been dealing with themes of Madonna levels of fame and how you stop giving a shit about looking hot all the time and start being real and wearing silk boxing shorts with freshly showered wet hair because they feel amazing. Take Julian Schnabel por ejemplo, oh the Toronto premiere of my new film? Sure I mean I'll wear a blazer over my silk pyjamas. Of course. 2011 is all about going wherever however you want.

Check it.

everybody here wants you

I am sure that nearly no dudes are reading this but if you are and you're ever at a loss as to what to get your special ladyfriend, do not, I repeat, Do. Not. Use her Amazon wishlist as a guide. I know it seems at odds with what a wishlist does or should do, but my wishlist is a wreck! I have a Holly Golightly sleep mask in my wishlist!

I am now the proud owner of a book I wanted to see the inside of in September for reasons (fashion related no doubt) I can't remember. Old Condé Nast photographers? It's an old and beautiful book, do not get me wrong. The thought counts.  It's just, we'd rather you asked versus trying to go all broken arrow with our gift. Christmas is not the time for going rogue. And of all books, why not Ken Pate's Roquette = Rockers which we talked about! This book? Not a peep! Also on the list, and even more clichéd a gift but still actually wanted? Arpège by Lanvin eau de parfume. I mean really.

Here is a list of things on my real deal Holyfield wishlist and not on that placeholder I use over at Amazon.bomb

Palmer's Cocoa Butter Sticks - $3

Superjail! DVD - $10

Melangerie State by Celebrity Tote - $15

Criterion Collection Häxan DVD - $32

No Mas Zaire 74 t-shirt - $34

Catbird gold letter stud earrings (M and F) - $40 ea

Worn Free 'I Wiped Out The 60s' t-shirt - $45

 

Esme silk Navajo print blouse - $60

Land's End tea rose cashmere v-neck sweater - $90

Game changing turquoise ring - $150

Azzaro Stripper Shoes - $175.00

Frye Harness 8R Shearling Boots - $298

Design Within Reach Rubik marble service table (not shown) - $500

adjusting to the times

Hey! New sex term I just invented. Two canadians going at it is called a "toonie". You. Are. Welcome.

The real reason I called though, how can you say no to a ruddy, old and Persol'd Irish potato face dressed up like a Cholo hobo? Cholobo? (Can that be a trend for men in perpetuity? Please?) Oh I'm in the minority on this? Add that to the list. 

Is Gossip Girl still on the air? I mean, really. It used to be a point of pride knowing every actor's name ever but I just realized I forgot the blonde one's name. I had to take three internet steps to find her. Thank god I came along just in time for the internet or I wouldn't be able to mom translate for myself. How did I have cogent conversation before wiki? Welcome old age, welcome to my skull.  All the things you love, die and facebook is thought elegant by Herr Kaiser. Also I have been fucking with the text size in my browser to make internetting easier. Glasses schmasses. Seriously, that's my new look, Yoko hair and NHS glasses!

your generation sucks

I had a really great conversation last night about the 90s and Prada and schizophrenic boutique buyers versus medicated megastore buyers and it all interrelated and was great and I came to a few conclusions.

1. There are a lot of girls out there in skinny jeans, bitch shoes, and sloppy tops and they are running boutiques. There's enough out there for that many-headed cliche to bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan, so I shouldn't worry about my various aspirations and why they will not work. America is a horn o' plenty and I need to take a bite. 
2. I totally get Prada S/S 2011 now, thanks Missy. This needs to happen again, its time is due. Why isn't Da Brat's blackberry lip making a comeback as well as Missy's aubergine lipliner. So essential. I like that small sliver of the 90s when lady rappers were transitioning from MC Lyteism into whatever real doll rapper is popular now. Nicki Minajism? They all look like sex toys, so whatever. I know chickenheaded hoes existed back then, but they weren't so yielding to a generic male fantasy. Foxy Brown was sassy and had a slight muffin top. Awesome. And also, the dance moves. I can't stop watching those super louche robot leans. "REMEMBER THE TIME" - MJ                                                                                                      
     
3. My aspirational 90s and the current aspirational 90s look are two completely different things. I stopped reading teen magazines in 1992 and subscribed to Bazaar just as Liz Tilberis came on as E-i-C. What was available to me for purchase back then wasn't dreamy, it was a lot of affordable thrift and pilfered from my parents college wardrobes. I didn't even dream of owning real Miu Miu, but a resonable vintage facsimile of the new facsimile of the original vintage. I developed the sense to recognize that fashion is the biggest Ouroboros through the reading and studying of fashion magazines, and tapped the trend at the source without the internet telling me how to do it in three easy steps.  And while that democratization is great, it sidesteps the old gatekeepers, so you have to deal with a lot of shitty micro-trends like pantlessness and shredded t-shirts. And then the olds get worried about not remaining on top of fashion and Carine and AdR are running around, panties on parade, even though they're 50ish and dancing as fast as they can. It's heartbreaking to witness. I'm sure Gavin would tell me to shut up and stop being old about it, but it's there and transitory and gets a platform before it even knows what to do with itself. Everyone is a cultural ambassador for a brand nowadays and it makes everything less special. Also young rich girls dressing up in expensive clothes is such an epic snooze to me. I am staking my claim in old Vreelandia, thank you. Vive la jolie laide.

details, asshole

Alright, there's no way Blaine could have known about 21 Jump Street on January 11th 1987. It didn't air until April. A cursory wiki check could have saved you from this embarrassing boner. My molecular memory told me that show wasn't a 1986 kinda show. Way to fucking go muscle memory. The brain is a muscle, use it, don't abuse it.

Also, a dude with a "Kid" high top fade fronting a band that has "Jessie's Girl" in their repertoire? At a ski resort? I can draw a line from Kid n' Play to the Black Eyed Peas but how does a 6 year old Rick Springfield song figure? Ignoring all of that, the real insult is BPE being the new hotness you bring from the future. Aren't Black Eyed Peas sort of the Poison of 2008? I'm kind of insulted, I remember the 80s better than the screenwriters who are older (yes I googled all 3 of them) than me. Can that be my job, fact checking scripts set in the 80s?  I'd un-anachronize your shit. Call me. 

Also, also, Lizzy Caplan kissing John Cusack. I don't truck with that crossing of streams. That is some straight up Lorraine and Marty McFly shit. He's 15 years older than you and looks at least 20 Lizzy. O.M.G. So much to hate! But I grudgefucked that movie to completion and don't have to think about it ever again. Hooray. Thanks Hot Tub Time Machine, but I've already lost your number, slut.

10 carat fool

Sorry to keep going on about it, but I have seriously been experiencing the brain drains lately. The only thing I can focus on is a new collaboration that will be completed in several weeks if all goes according to plan. It is the only thing I can hunker down and sit for long periods thinking about. I hate being coy about it but I'm keepin' it like a secret until it's all done. 

I tried watching Mesrine tonight but my brain kept saying this. I don't have any patience for subtítulos anymore. What is wrong with me? I'm not down for a French gangster flick? It's like I don't even recognize myself anymore.

M. Mesrine obviously can't compete.

I am however totally engrossed with a Bette Davis biography I picked up at the dollar store. FOR. A. DOLLAR. Did you know she went on a date with Henry Fonda before they both were famous? She kept his calling card because she was a New Yankee Hoarder. People used to have cards with just their name on them to give to people, like they were living in a civilization. Can you believe? Incredible.

This is a 8x10 of Joanie doctored by Bette among her personal papers that were donated to Boston University. Incredible. 

lolzebub

I've got the blues still and they aren't the kind you can cheese me out of, I need stronger stuff. What works are pictures of cats in sweaters that I can invent back stories for. Here are the highlights:

Alex is a welder by day and really wants to dance at the conservatory. I mean really, all that natural light is pure fucking Adrian Lyne. Nice tits miss thang, if you keep it up you'll end up at The Zanzibar.

This is Judah and he's really into the power of his hair. This little guy is regalness personified. 

This is Rudy, he just bought a Lambretta and is currently fixing it up. He needs to run away because his home life is shit. His parents don't respect his lifestyle.