Go Faux!

It's September already, and the air is crisp in the mornings, but soon the earth will curl up for sleeping. NOOoooo! I'm not ready. I'm still harvesting tomatoes from the garden! The grass is still green-- I'm going to hold on to the turf as long as possible. When the snow finally hits the ground, I'll have a few wonderful accessories to keep me seeing green:

Cattoo
There's something very delicate and beautiful about Cattoo. Based in Hull, UK, Cattoo presents a world in surreal detail: pinstriped clouds, lounging kittens in form-fitting, tribal-swirly, "cat suits" that would make Vince Noir jealous. I feel like I'm looking at bits of springtime, and let me tell you, when those flipping clipper winds come slicing through New England, I'm going to cling to my Cattoo. I'm particularly fond of Cacti Love. This very cute brooch, with its texturized skin and spiky, shiny bits reminds me of my beloved New Mexico. This will definitely help keep the winter blahs at bay.




Gather ye moss

AdornJewelry

Adorn Jewelry's Gather Moss series hold memories of where you'd like to be-- resting in low grass on a spring day, with a light breeze dancing over ya. I love this sophisticated, tactile ring with its faux moss, held fast in a sterling silver-plated setting-- seems it could have been harvested from the wilds of those deep, Washington State woods.


Well, I'm out to enjoy the fleeting sun of summer's end. Have a GREAT day!

The Unusual Suspects

I don't know why, but my apartment smells slightly of souring life. . . it's warm, it's the end of summer, if you so much as look at a ripening piece of fruit on the counter, it starts carving its own coffin. I'm doing my best, but nag champa can't cover everything. So, I figure I'll read Sarah Vowell's best-selling book, Assassination Vacation.

No-- my reading this hysterical and thoughtful book has nothing to do with the upcoming race for the White House. Not at all. Nope. I just love a good yarn about history, and Ms. Vowell's tome is one of the most engaging I've read. Lincoln, Garfield, and McKinley the first three Presidents to be cut down, and not by the Daleks. And guess who was "present" at all three of these killings? Vowell calls him, "Jinxy McDeath."

Like the author, I also love bone fragments trapped under glass. The bloodied collar of some co-conspirator who did this or that. Assassination Vacation affirms some of my own pointless investigations, my few marches through some grisly cemeteries, the late-night stalking of daguerreotypes that might induce Civil War nightmares interspersed with my search for the perfect disease, and perhaps a cure my case of Stendhal Syndrome, which basically means I get a shivery and sick and paranoid around beautiful, Florentine art. It's a REAL disorder, folks.

ARRHGHGHGH!!!
This tour is OVER. Take me to the etsy gift shop please. . .

Opulent Oddities

There's something about these earrings that says, Political Pirate-- and I like it. Delicately militant, a caress and then a slap, Opulent Oddities out of Deland, Florida give us a fresh variation on the old skull and crossbones. These earrings make me think of the War of 1812, when the Brits set fire to the White House (1814). The only hilarious thing about this is the thought of social butterfly Dolley Madison, running down the hall, trying to keep the girls in check while trapped in one of those low-cut, empire waist dresses, having just saved some presidential paperwork, and a priceless portrait of George Washington by the handsome portait artist, Gilbert Stuart. She's more than a First Lady, folks. . .more than a stuffed pastry.

The unusual suspects
New Adventures in Narrative: Paintings by m. Ninehouser

These wonderfully gloomy paintings with strange, often fleshy impediments allow the mind to wander over hill and dale, perhaps never to return. Or, to at least come home with a very bizarre pet. There's something delightful about these oil paintings being born and raised in Pittsburgh. Maybe I just prefer rainy days to the sunny ones.

In the umbrella queens and the stealthy assassin five unusual suspects, in this case, queens, float faceless under a mocha sky while one of their own lies in puddle of human goo, as she gurgles, cluthing unreliable handfulls of sand. Mary Poppins has definitely left the building, and she ain't coming back. What does one do, in polite society under such circumstances? Call the police? Meet for tea to talk over five alibis? Was she a royal bitch? Was she cut down by a Dalek? Did she know to much? The terrific thing about New Adventures in Narrative is you can make up the ending. Or the beginning.

Gotta go pulverize some beets, and get back to my assassination vacation. . .

Marry Me, Eugene!

I guess I have to admit it. . .

I've been in a bit of a slump. Doctor Who is over for the season. I just finished running rough-shod over season one and two of Torchwood like a Weevil on the loose in downtown Cardiff, and as much as I'm enjoying Swingtown, there's no Captain Jack Harkness making out with Ianto at the pool party, so . . . SIGH. . . And LORDY, I just heard Luke Wilson call Doctor Who an OBSCURE show from Great Britain. Obscure, Luke? WTF, hon? Duel at Dawn, you cur. And you know, "cur" is a kind word, considering its definition according to the OED is, "aggressive mongrel dog." UGH! Still love you, Luke. . .

ANYWAY.

Last night this band of performers Ed Sullivaned me, which definitely lifted my sallow spirits. Gogol Bordello-- saw them on Conan. I've been tracking Gogol Bordello for a few years, through the wilds of NPR interviews across the You Tube tundra, in Liev Schreiber's film version of Everything Is Illuminated, adapted from the Jonathan Safran Foer novel of the same name. I've heard the band sound better, but you can't beat the energy, the chaos, pent-up passions unleashed with the flick of the accordion player's wrist. Lead artist Eugene Hutz's skinny little ass makes me swoon. Marry Me, Eugene! I have a red glitter-frame photograph of him which I was indeed clutching last night, as I watched the band perform on my crappy little TV. When I finally get married, and hell, even if I don't I can only hope to have a party that sounds like Start Wearing Purple complete with matching Slivovitza and Jameson fountains bubbling booze, an obscene number of accordions, at least one Tuba to play sound effects each time someone hits the deck, perhaps a live bear or something (kidding) and a few wild dogs with beautiful brown, mascara-ed looking eyes, barking on the other side of the fence, howling to get in.

Want to see what I'll be wearing?

idea2lifestyle

Gorgeous, modern-medieval and flowing. A clear indication to the groom that he's getting the dark with the light. Idea2Lifestyle, based in Shanghai, is a collective of artists who create high-quality wearable works of art that leap out of their etsy store right into your mind. I want to dye my dreads, kiss a stranger, and run barefoot through a field in Gallifrey.

Wait, there's more:

This is what I'll be wearing on the honeymoon in Eastern Europe as we weave our way by train to Poland, Ukraine, doubling back west to Hungary and then a non-stop flight to Barcelona. I heart Barcelona. I have it all planned, apparently. All I need is the man. Screw it-- I'll go anyway.

Love this top. Reminds me of a blouse I BEGGED my mom to put on lay-away for me, from The Limited back in the 80s. I was into the asymmetrical look back then. My top was mustard-colored, and I distinctly remember being laughed at by the popular high school girls. I was ahead of my time, obviously. Taking my cues from episodes of Square Pegs. Now that I'm MUCH older, and I have trouble buttoning my tops correctly, so here's a lovely compromise. This blood-red delight of a shirt makes "offset" very sexy. Comes in with, black, and grey. This blouse is called, "Missing you IN Red." Yes, indeed.

All right, all right. . . I think I'm back. I'll start some kind of countdown to Doctor Who, or something. Maybe start a Torchwood satellite office. This is a cry for HELP. Are there any support groups out there for my little problem?

Keep Calm and Carry On

Just got home from a brisk walk to the grocery store, in my "skinny jeans," mentioned in a previous post. I can actually WALK in them without endangering my reproductive organs. Amazing. You know, I am still so surprised to be the only one walking somewhere-- I saw friends whizz by in cars, perfectly decent strangers looked upon me from their SUVs like I was a 1930s share cropper hoofing from the company store with my bushel of apples to feed my four children from the suicide doors of our broken-down Ford. Rough times . . . but today, with the wind blowing, the air hazy with crusty particles, it looked a lot like the dust bowl days of old. We ain't that far away from it, you know. . .

I know the Fourth of July was last week, and tomorrow's Bastille Day, but it's today that I'm feeling nostalgic for the past. I had some Olivia Newton John on repeat as I took my walk, or, rather, as I stumbled through bits of broken glass, ATM receipts and Dunkin Donuts debris, I got to thinking about this old America, who she's become, and what I wish she could be. Would a little more love make it right? Would a little more love make it right? America, if I can learn to love you more would you get better? Would you become beautiful again? 

I miss the 1970s. A lot. I vaguely remember those years but I do remember there was a lot more hair. More fun. More lip gloss and satin jackets, stronger bass lines, more synth, soft focus, bigger moustaches-- THANK GOD for the hipster boys willing to rock some burns and stash, I'd probably melt into the minutiae otherwise. Ohhh, meet you in Anchorage for the 2009 World Beard and Moustache Championships?  Until then, I think I need something shiny.

Bella Moda Artist

Hmmm. Shiny, sparkly, my heart goes all fluttery for Bella Moda Artist. Silver settings and, resin "stones"-- made from the icons of your life:

Bella Moda makes "decoder" rings and cuff links that somehow make these dog days of summer a little easier to bear. 

Maybe life can't be an ABBA song, but it can be a little more fun. And if we can't have fun, we can at least try to keep calm and carry on:

You know you can get custom orders? I was thinking about matching rings, one with Barack and one with Michelle. I can do that little fist bump all the way to the polls. It's time to start showing the colors. In the end we'll all be living under one flag anyway. Yes, I do mean the Jolly Roger. 

See ya!

Marya

 

Perfecta!

I was just about to run off and make myself a delicious beverage made with beets, when I had a google attack and started searching for bits and pieces about Miranda July. Talk about inspiring. Every time I think I've lost myself, don't know what I'm doing, or what I'll do next, I look to Ms. July-- she seems to rediscover herself all the time.




And then I found this video by Miranda! an electro pop band from Argentina. Perfecta! Where have they been all my life?





And then I found this one:



Wyrd. Like the Old Norse kind of weird. Ohh. I think I'm having a hot flash, and the wind just picked up like crazy. I'd better go.


Off to Jack Lalanne's
See ya!
Marya

Let's Trade Mixtapes!

You should have heard me, strolling along the overpass, twirling my paper parasol, singing an obscure, Olivia Newton John song, at the top of my lungs. And then a little something by Prince. And then of course, The Bee Gees. And . . . Lola Falana? GOD, how I miss the power of the mixtape. The good old cassette, or as the French say, K7.

Sigh, times, they do change . . . digital music compilations. Whoopee. Mixtapes were better-- just not the same as “shuffle.” It’s not the same as a“playlist,”is it? Mixtapes were tactile. Remember how the ribbon would get caught in your sister’s player, and it was like the end of your world? Winding the tape back, feeling the little white plastic teeth around your finger?Ahh, those were the days. . . if you’re looking for a place to listen to loads of “mixtapes,” and maybe upload one of your own, check out muxtape.com.


Yeah, they had some problems earlier in the year with clever hackers giving them the slip, but Muxtape is back up and bringing you a smörgåsbord of streaming MP3s. Before you upload your own mixtape du jour, why not check out these great, old-school jams?


CBT’s Closet
This etsy store has “Square Pegs” written all over it! Resin-e-goodness in every bite! Pretty, killer pills, talismans with She Ra embedded in them, and these great mixtape earrings!



Beta 2.0

Now, THIS is what I’m talking about. This Mixed Tape Ninja T-shirt could make me revert to the days when I slept with the things I loved. Wait. I still do that. YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. Wear it to bed, to work, to play pinball, let your beau or your lady wake up in it the morning after. Hmm. . . why did Devendra Banhart just streak across my mind? Because he’s delicious. Devendra, let's trade mixtapes!



Beta from Victoria, BC makes great silkscreen t-shirts that remind me of my high school years. These tees look like the ones the senior boys wore during band practice, slightly too tight with a rip, imperceptibly forming under a brazen, silken armpit. TMI. Sorry. . .


Once you go vinyl, it’s FINAL. . .

Maybe you’re into the groove, shielding your priceless record collection in a climate-controlled cellar, next to your vintage wines. Then represent with Gossip Gossip’s record messenger bags. Gossip Gossip's original design is made from recycled records and canvas. From Beijing to Utica, New York, where the magic happens, Gossip Gossip is like the shot heard round the world.



Speaking of that, have a GREAT, safe Fourth of July, and don’t forget to storm the Bastille on July 14th!

Gaze through the digital peep-show window, my pretty!

Well, well, well. . . finally we're getting hip to the ways in which London swings-- Showtime is airing the first season of the show based on the true-life annals of lady of the night, Belle du Jour. The Secret Diary of a Call Girl stars the lovely Billie Piper, also known as the intrepid Rose Tyler, from my favorite, and yours, Doctor Who. You might recall that I wrote about Diary in a previous post, some four months ago. HA! (Go back in time. . .)

I was excited to see that Diary had been picked up by an American network. I thought, hey, this is BRILLIANT, now us poor state side fools can expose ourselves to Belle, without having to sheepishly gaze at her tale through the digital peep-show window known as You Tube. Let's all have exciting, racy, dirty FUN with Belle-- a modern, high-priced courtesan who loves her job.

If you have watched the show, then you know it's not all johns and condoms-- there's a STORY there. Belle's "alter ego" is Hannah-- a well-educated young woman with a conventional London lifestyle, just trying to juggle friends, family, and her busy calendar. It's not like non-stop Emmanuelle action, all right?



I was taken aback, I guess, as shows like Access Hollywood and Extra (yes, OKAY, I watch them both-- don't hate) slanted their coverage on Diary like it was the latest show to corrupt the nation's youth, like they'd all go blind or blond, from watching it. Come on. Listen, I've heard dirtier talk by the "youth" at my bus stop, woozy from the gaseous haze of their own pheromones. I've seen more skin on installments of Survivor, turning mid-drift to mid RIFT.

The WORST is calling Ashley Duprey the American version of Belle. Hardly. I would rather walk on my lips than talk trash about a real person, so I'll just say that Miss Duprey is nothing like Belle. I mean first off, Belle gets a better exchange rate, considering that the dollar is still "going down." And who wants to work harder for LESS? Work smarter, not harder. Speaking of hard these etsy stores light my fire:


Venus Flytrap Jewels
Ohhh, yesssss. These fantastic cuff links by London's Venus Flytrap Jewels are perfect for a naughty night about town. Or, stay in-- whatever you like. These mature cufflinks are decoupaged, double varnished and sealed for your protection and your lust. The illustration comes courtesy of erotic artist, John Willie (read about him in Denise Dowling's article).

What a sexy, almost graphic novel sort of way to show off your fashion fetish! Strap these on your partner and prepare to feel the heat. Sign language anyone? Talk about a hand job.




All about Belle

I'd remiss if I didn't mention Belle Lettres's store again. I LOVE her laminate illuminations, taking ordinary slips of paper and turning them into wearable unmentionables! Miss thing has expanded her store and her style, adding timeless watches, tasty charms and sexy chokers to her line. This artist has a lot going on, and you can find out all about it right here. I wrote about Belles Lettres in a previous entry-- go back in time to check it out.


Well, I'm off to blend my liquid breakfast. Yes, I'm STILL working the juicer and watching my flab evaporate! Things would go a lot faster if I actually exercised, I suppose. . .

See ya next time!
Marya