We Need You To Stay.

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. I might have been able to ignore it if I hadn’t read that the son of a disgraced Fox news host killed himself yesterday by overdose. Nineteen year old Eric Chase Bolling Jr. was distressed by his father’s troubles. Eric Bolling was fired for sending lewd photos to women, with a ton of fanfare on social media.

Bolling Sr. may be a cunt but no one deserves this. And no one should be in such pain without a person to talk to or a voice reminding him that he is needed in this world, no matter how hard that is to recognize in moments of despair.

I needed Eric Jr. and I needed Chris Cornell, Chester Bennington, and Blake Heron, who died from an overdose three days after leaving rehab. Every day I read about someone’s son or daughter or parent leaving by suicide, and my heart breaks each time. The suffering they leave behind is unimaginable. If only they could all come running back!

Suicide can be prevented. Not always but in many cases where a hand to hold or a compassionate word might have made the difference.

We can all try to be a ray of light in someone’s darkness. What better enterprise is there, right?

We can learn the warning signs of a psyche in distress.

I admit that I struggle with To be or not to be, every single day. What keeps me here is the awareness of shattering other lives in my haste to depart. What a mess it makes! No one recovers. Obviously.

If you’re suffering, I urge you to stick around. Things will change!  Call 1-800-273-TALK (8255)  Or click here for helpful advice.

***If you are in crisis but would be more comfortable texting, 24/7 support is available by texting 741741.

If there is anyone you are concerned about, take a minute to check in with them. It could change their life. xo

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Catching Up With Jane

I followed Jane, from Sea of Shoes, on Twitter and Instagram until she posted the picture above and I commented, “Nothing wrong here.” Boom, she blocked me.

I understand. No one wants any comments that imply one is less than fabulous. Especially Jane. So naturally she deletes comments that express worry about her weight.

You know what, when I was 14, I used to only eat egg whites and grapefruit. Finally, circumstances forced me to eat more, and eventually I learned that it’s more fun to eat than to starve. Last night I ate a huge quantity of tortilla chips with hot avocado salsa, and I’m a better man for it, I believe.

I think Jane has mentioned “health issues” and I hope she is okay. I have health issues my self. Seventeen of them, according to a print-out from my doctor, including depression, lumbago, and marijuana use.

I hope she is okay but I don’t think she is. And of course there is nothing I can do. People online discuss her life as though she’s a character in Grey Gardens, but only Jane and her family know the real girl. I watched an old video of her with her mom, and it was disturbing. It made me regret being mean to her, that time I said she had a fat face. What an awful thing to say. I was out of my mind at the time but that’s no excuse.

I’m so sorry for that mean post. I’m not sorry for mocking her blog. It was so mockable that someone had to do it. But I wish I could take back the mean personal insult.

I hope her marriage will bring a new happy life and a chance to broaden her horizons. Here is Jane with her fiance Jeff.  You can read about their engagement over on her blog.

Vaya con Dios, Jane and Jeff!

all photos (c) Sea of Shoes

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Comic Relief From Prada

When I first saw these Prada loafers, I thought “Walrus!” Then, “Groucho Marx!” And finally, “Ew!”  What do you see??

From the rear, you can really appreciate the heel. Are they going for a Gaudi mosaic tribute or just a Disney princess thing?

comic relief from prada

A textured, silvery block heel encrusted with sparkling crystals in shades of blue brings a feminine update to a square-toed loafer finished with genuine shearling tassels.

Uh-oh. I would call this green, not shades of blue. Anyone?  Funnily enough, the whole thing looks different when it’s coming straight at you.

comic relief from prads

Now it’s a smiling shoe making a funny face! Adorable. $1,100 

Remember, when the world is about to blow up or just fall apart, there is always footwear and denim to take the edge off.

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*Clarification, Beckywise*

clarification beckywise

*A friend said on fb that she was depressed by my last post. My answer to her may clarify my position, which my tone might have obscured.  Have not yet heard back from her. But here it is.  Feel free to weigh in.

I don’t like to depress you. I’m aware that white women are not welcome to comment on this subject by definition. Here’s something a little different. When I worked for Dear Abby, her office manager was an old redneck lady who had been with the Dear Abby outfit for 100 years or something. They were technophobes who kept everything on paper, in files. One of their popular reprints was a list of Jews Who Have Done Great Things. It included Jonas Salk, Einstein, etc. I found it one day and laughed in amazement. I read it aloud to the office…”Jews Who Have Done Great Things!” Misunderstanding my tone, the redneck lady replied, “No really, some of them are good!”

So, you know, I have no wish to be considered a Good Jew, or a Good White Lady. I will not be defined by another culture’s criteria, or even by my own culture, whatever that’s supposed to be. As an atheist, I was not born with original sin. As an Ashkenazi Jew, I was not born with America’s original sin. My grandma was given a made up name at Ellis Island because they couldn’t pronounce her real one. My dad was beaten up every day on his way to school for being a “kike.”

America is a cesspool of racism and stupidity. I voted for Jesse Jackson and I’m married to a Mexican American. I don’t want to apologize for having light skin but I do want to apologize for a country that celebrates stupidity and bigotry.

Shit like calling out bindi wearers is a waste of energy, in my opinion. I would be happy to see anyone wearing a big Hasidic hat because they are dope.

I have been your friend in cyberspace for all these years because of your brains, your sense of humor, our shared fashion obsessions, your kindness, and our mutual disdain for countless things. I hope we can respect each other’s ideas even when we don’t agree. xo

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Suck it Up, White Women!

suck it up

Regarding the recent take-down of white women called “The 5 Types of Becky,” I’d like to register my indignation, EVEN THOUGH white women are not allowed to join any conversation about white privilege.

Our white voices are not welcome because, duh, white! We can’t possibly have anything valid to offer because we are just stupid Becky’s. From our privileged vantage point, we can see and understand nothing, by definition.

All we do is appropriate the cultures of dark-skinned peoples, and we have to be lectured on this while sitting quietly and bowing our heads. Our heads better not have braids on them or god forbid a big ceremonial Native American headdress.

Fuck us, with our appropriated bindi‘s and whatnot. I just learned that gold nameplate necklaces were stolen from black girls in the hood who were innocently celebrating their unique names. God we are fuckers. Here I thought it was a Sex in the City thing but no. My Jewish hairdresser (WHITE PRIVILEGE!) told me that she was given a name-plate bracelet as a baby in an Israeli kibbutz, but fuck her family for ripping off those innocent black girls.

Now we have ruined those nameplates forever.

I read a long list of offensive cultural appropriation crimes committed during the VMA show last week. I can’t remember them (WHITE ALZHEIMER’S PRIVILEGE.) Katy Perry alone was nailed for at least five of them.

I have tried to imagine an essay about The 5 types of Keisha or The 5 types of Guadalupe or The 5 Types of Mei-Ling and I just can’t. Not because I am too nice or color-blind but because I’m not used to categorizing people of different ethnicities. Sue me. (WHITE JEWISH PRIVILEGE.) I can’t and I don’t want to. How would that help, you know?

If you didn’t know that white people have appropriated yoga, get woke! Start learning to apologize or to just suck it up. Defending yourself is a microaggression. Get used to it, Becky.

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Denim Nightmares

To quote a song from Suicidal Tendencies, “I’m not crazy; You’re the one who’s crazy!” I’m talking to you, Y/Project.

What does this jacket want from us?? Is it trying to mimic an optical illusion? It is like one of those portraits with two sets of eyes? Try staring at it without making a face.

Stylebop isn’t big on descriptions. This is their take:

Edgy and subversive in equal measure, this Y/Project denim jacket is the ultimate statement with a contemporary layered design and boyish volume. The fuzzy contrast lining keeps it plush.

Oh, LAYERED, that explains it. Here’s how it looks snapped up:

Wouldn’t if be great to wear this over ANOTHER denim jacket? $919.00

Alexander McQueen takes grotesque overkill in a completely different direction with this denim cutaway jacket.

So elegant! The “split midriff” is what kills me.

Imagine sweeping into a room clad in this showstopper, ahem. At $7,625, it must have been a teeny bit too pricey, despite its obvious charm, but it sold out after Neiman Marcus knocked it down to $807.  Somewhere, there’s a lady bragging that she saved $6,818 by scoring this eyesore.

Remember, More is More, except with denim.


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Addendum to Heroic Mothers: Less Self-Pity


Okay, some of you have reminded me that I don’t need to be a hero or activist to be okay. That seems fair. I’m lowering the bar for me and for everyone else. For those of us suffering from a life-changing trauma, getting out of bed and going through the motions are commendable.

I remained upright to take care of my younger son, to see him graduate high school, go off to college, fall in love and get married. I survived a crazy hate mob of trolls. I learned something about forgiveness. Not everything but something. I have bonded with readers of this blog who offered comfort or shared their own stories. These connections are like little miracles.

So you know, I take back the stuff about being worthless. I will marvel at people who make an effort to change the world when their own world has collapsed. I’m just not a doer. I’m better at communicating through writing. I’m better one-on-one.

I’m good at being preachy. I’m good at urging people to stop shaming addicts and to treat them lovingly, with compassion. I’m good at calming people who are frantic with anxiety and depression.

I’m good at styling people who go shopping with me. I’m good at making them over in my own image. I’m good at advising on red lipstick and steering people away from Zara. I’m good at finding silk pajamas at Salvation Army shops. I’m good at affecting obscure accents in public. I’m good at giving compliments. I make great roast chicken.

I think that’s it for now. I’m okay, alright? I’m going to limit self-deprecation to special occasions. Like my birthday, coming up next week.

Thanks for being the wind or the wings or however it goes! Thanks for being here. xo


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Heroic Mothers, I Salute You

Heroic mothers, I salute you

How can you watch Susan Bro speak about her daughter without tearing up? What a magnificent woman and mother.

On July 31, Nashville Mayor Megan Barry lost her only son to a drug overdose, but she is back at work, fighting for DACA.

And earlier today, I read about a mother who started a foundation to distribute naloxone to drug addicts after her twenty year old son died of a heroin overdose.

These mothers are everything I’m not. They have pulled themselves together to do something good in the world. They are memorializing their children with so much courage and fortitude!

All I’ve done is cry and wail and sleep and try to distract myself. I feel like grief is the defining aspect of my entire existence, even though I don’t want that to be true.

Maybe it’s not too late for me to be productive. Who knows. I am skeptical, given my laziness, which is legendary.

What I do is sleep with his stuffed animals and wear his hair in a locket and go around feeling lost. But I did write to Mayor Barry and she wrote me back. I wanted to tell her that it would never be okay but it would get easier. Her son had the sweetest face, and his name was Max.

If you didn’t hear Susan Bro talk about her daughter Heather, here she is.  On the one hand we have Trump, a disgraceful amoral piece of shit, and on the other hand we have a ordinary woman exhibiting the best of humanity on one of the worst days of her life.

Let’s thank her for giving us hope, and for being a light in the wilderness of 2017.

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Oh Snap, There’s a New Blackest Black, Anish Kapoor!

After all the fuss over Vantablack, and the artist who managed to get exclusive access to it, there’s a new blackety-black paint that is virtually the same, and this one’s available to the public.

Called Singularity, the new paint was developed for NASA, just like Vantablack, but the company that developed it (NanoLab) is making it available to all artists, starting at only $30 for a nail-polish sized bottle.

In an interview with Hyperallergic, a NanoLab scientist says:

NanoLab offers a coating service to anyone interested in sending us pieces that can withstand the processing conditions for our experienced staff to coat at our lab facility, but we are open to sharing this entire process with any artist that wants to use Singularity Black in their own studio.

I’d like to coat everything in this velvety matte super-anti-reflective black, just as I used to spray-paint everything gold. It was just a phase, but it seemed like gold made everything better, especially things that aren’t supposed to be gold. Unfortunately, Singularity is kind of hard to work with.

el nino malo

Artist Jason Chase is the first artist to incorporate the paint into a piece of art. Titled Black Iron Ursa, it’s a cast-iron gummy bear that Chase has painted black, atop a rainbow hued circular thing. It’s kitsch, in my opinion, but it makes the point that a really fucking black object can be uniquely compelling.

Just to be perfectly clear, Vantablack exhibits lower reflectance in the visible range — about 0.2% total hemispherical reflectance (THR) at 700 nm — and Singularity Black exhibits about 1.15% THR at 700 nm, according to Hyperallergic.

I think that’s a minute enough disparity that it’s safe to say, NAH NAH, ANISH KAPOOR!

Learn more about Singularity, and even order some here.

Black Iron Ursa (c) Jason Chase, 2017
El Niño Malo (c) Sister Wolf

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Bootie Extravaganza F/W 20017

If you’re a Bootie Aficionado, and who isn’t, this is the season you’ve been waiting for. For every time you’ve wondered why no one made booties with mink pom-poms or a thousand buckles, your prayers have been answered, with interest.

Above, we have the Gianvito Rossi Sock Bootie. What is there to say except Ew, Stop It? $1,o95

Why have just one pattern when there are so many? Why hold back?

This is the May Wong, by Christian Loubouton, adding a touch of racism to a party on heels. I think this one could be described as “fun.” When you walk into a room, someone is bound to scream, “Your boots! What fun!” At $1,695, you get what you pay for. The tassel thingie alone is worth like $500, probably.

Yay for Gucci (above)!  As Gucci continues its Everything and the kitchen sink aesthetic, one is almost disappointed to note that this bootie lacks the snakes, tigers and bees of last season. Let’s not be greedy though. Seven buckles AND a zipper is not nothing. Three different buckle styles plus the tapestry embroidery = a costly migraine. At $2,150, we may be spared the sight of this in real life. The Topshop version will be a manageable headache in comparison.

Next, Tom Ford, who brings sexy back.

Printed calf-hair, gold hardware, peep-toe and open heel, balanced precariously on a spindly stiletto. I’m hearing HELP! What do you hear? $1,590.

Want to spend some real money? Nothing says $$$ like sparkly crystal.

$5,995 for this classy Loubouton platform bootie is not much to spend for this level of sophistication. If anyone mistakes this for a Steve Madden knock off, just stick the red sole in their face.

Now you really want me to stop but I can’t. Here’s the mink pom-poms. They look almost demure at this point, right?

Fendi, $1,150.  That’s ____ per pom-pom. You do the math. Finally, for the win, behold:

Givenchy’s Floral Elegant Ankle Boot deserves the prize for the audacity of using the word Elegant. Way to cheat, Givenchy! It’s a copy of a copy by some brand I can’t remember. Maybe Jeffrey Campbell? I love the gratuitous little studs. $1,450 worth of tired faux punk. Would you wear these for free? Maybe that’s the litmus test.

I’m done. Don’t be mad at me. I’m just here to help.

If you have the energy, please weigh in with your own choice for the win.


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