Sruli Recht Delivers

Remember Sruli Recht, the Israeli/Australian designer with a studio in Iceland?

His ready-to-wear menswear is now available online!

The sweater and shorts above are made from the wool of Icelandic sheep who “have been bred unmixed for 11 hundred years.”   Good to know.   But here’s more:

Garment description:

Fitted Single breasted Icelandic woolen-felt Jacket, draped as a sole rectangle, shaped with one dart running from the scapula through to the nape – draped entirely on a K&L 38 stand and on the body of a man named Emil in Reykjavik.

The shorts were also draped entirely on Emil’s legs. Not only that, but they’re lined in Japanese silk and cotton.   I would buy them just to feel close to Sruli.

Posted in Art, Fashion, Words | Tagged , , | 11 Comments

What is the point of Herman Cain?

What is the point of this guy???

Why don’t the Republicans nominate Bishop Don instead?

He’s got the charisma, the likability thing, the business acumen, and possibly a better grasp of   foreign relations.

I’m sick of that stupid arrogant pizza salesman.   What a fucker. His function as comic relief has expired.

Bishop Don could even use personal motto as his campaign slogan!

“Green is for the money, gold is for the honeys.”

Posted in Disorders, News, Rants | Tagged , , | 24 Comments

Royalty Buffs

I’m not interested in Royalty, but I love old photographs.   Today I came across a forum for people who are obsessed with Royal families and it is a motherlode of vintage photos.

An unexpected bonus is the number of arguments that break out between the people who post there. I wonder if people have to argue in online forums. Maybe it’s just the competitive nature of people who are proud of their expertise.

My husband reads a forum for audiophiles and he says they don’t argue there.   I’m surprised that guys who can tell the difference between five different masters of a Jimi Hendrix record can accept each other’s opinions without jockeying for authority. But moderators are there to end discussions, so who knows what would happen if the posters were left alone to boast about their rare Japanese boxed sets of obscure Eric Clapton demos.

Check out “Alexander Palace Time Machine” for amazing photos and petty arguments! Start here.

~

* According to a forum regular, here are the Royals who are worst at being Royals:

Prince Charles of Great Britian.
Camilla, The Duchess of Cornwall.
Prince Harry of Great Britian.
Princess Anne of Great Britian.
Crown Prince Philip of Belgium.
Prince Joachim of Denmark.
Prince Albert of Monaco.
Victor-Emmanuel of Italy, Duke of Savoye.
Marina-Doria of Italy, Duchess of Savoye.

Posted in Art, Disorders, Words | Tagged , , | 22 Comments

Amanda Palmer and My Nose

Last night I went to see Amanda Palmer, aware that I might feel emotional, since Max loved Amanda and introduced me to The Dresden Dolls in the fist place.

I couldn’t get as close to the stage as I’d hoped, but we managed to find a pretty good place to stand. Before the opening act started, a girl directly in front of me felt compelled to dance  theatrically  to the piped in music. I turned to my companion and said: “This is a test from god. He put her in front of me to see if I can take it.” I added that all I really wanted was to not get my nose broken by her flailing elbows.

We managed to move closer to the stage and away from the dancing girl. In a break between the two supporting acts, I got something in my eye and asked a big friendly girl to hold my drink for a minute. She was adorable, like an enormous puppy but I can’t remember her name. She works at Trader Joe. I felt happy about our  camaraderie  and excited about seeing Amanda.

Suddenly, I experienced the shock of being whacked in the face by a plastic bottle that some fucker had thrown in my direction. The people next to me had seen it coming and I turned to see them cringing in horror. I felt my nose to see if it was still there. I wanted to cry but decided not to. You can’t believe the force of a flying plastic bottle! When I got home, I saw that there was a small bloody cut on the bridge of my nose. (see above)

Why did I have a premonition about my nose? Did I manifest a blow to the nose by Putting Out a negative thought? Does everyone get hit in the nose if they go to enough concerts?

Amanda was terrific, as always. Her embodiment of both male and female energy is so mesmerizing, and luckily, marriage has done nothing to tame her.

One of Amanda’s rituals is to answer personal questions from fans, selecting them randomly from a basket. She started reading one that didn’t make sense. It was just a name, like Quinn Something. She  threw  it aside, but someone in the audience yelled that Quinn was asking for a middle name. She said “Oh, sorry, I guess I didn’t read the whole thing.” Then she paused for a moment and shouted: “MAX!”

Suddenly everything became surreal. I expected Max to appear, summoned by Amanda Palmer. My jaw dropped in wonder. It was only a second but it was amazing. I was thrilled, freaked out, then tearful.   She added. “It’s one of my favorite names.”

Was it a sign? Say yes.

And what about my nose?

Posted in Art | Tagged , , | 25 Comments

Stuff to Want, For a Change

If you follow this link, you can see the full line of Versace for H&M, due in stores on November 17. Bright, flashy exotic prints and old-school Versace overkill in the accessories make this collection a nostalgic trip down Eurotrash lane.

I’m ready for it! I’m tired of drab colors and black with black.

These pants come in a leafy Hawaiian print as well, and look nice under the dresses or with short clashing   tops.

I love a pink suit on a male model but I admit that I’d like one for me. I think I could pull it off. But realistically, I will probably just set my sights on the pink shoes.   I’m not willing to stand in a long line to get my hands on this stuff but if the crowds aren’t too scary, these shoes are mine.

And if the shoes don’t work out, I want the bedspread. There are matching pillows for a nice opium den effect.

What do you think about this collection? Love it or hate it? Is it worth fighting a mob of aggressive girls wearing their Lita platforms?

Posted in Fashion | Tagged , , | 34 Comments

Skirt of Death

This skirt by Kevork Kilesjian would look great with a massive viking helmet, don’t you think?

At $1,495, the price is just right, and the designer’s name suggests he may be amenable to killing you with a plastic bag.   Maybe he could even do this before you suffered the indignity of wearing the skirt!

Shopbop,   of course.

Posted in Fashion | Tagged , | 22 Comments

Before and After*

Even though he’s the Hipster du Jour, I can’t stand looking at Zombie Boy. Now that I see what he’d look like without his tattoos, I find him even more tragic.

He’s actually a cute guy! And he fucked himself all up.

If you think he’s a work of art, don’t fly off the handle: I’m reacting as a mother.

In any case, it’s a great marketing gimmick for Dermablend.

What’s your preference. Before or After?

~

*Update:   Here is the best possible version of Zombie Boy,   from a helpful reader, Danielle.   Now he needs to go away and leave us alone. I apologize for bringing him up in the first place.

Posted in Celebrities | Tagged , | 42 Comments

Pictures

Goodbye to Dad

Two walkers, December 2009

High School graduation, June 2011

Max and Pico

Playing guitars

and finally this photo by Antanas Sutkus. I can’t describe how much I love it. It is so exquisitely tender! It sums up everything for me. I want to kiss the little child and to reassure her. But I know she is me.

Posted in Art, grief, love | Tagged | 18 Comments

Daddy

My dad died last night, at home in bed. He would have been 90 in November and we thought he would live forever. His health has been failing for the last year and a half but suddenly in the last week he took a bad turn.

My brother and my nephew have given their all to keep him alive but metastatic cancer is a  vicious force of nature that won’t be tamed.  All the kids gathered at my dad’s house to be with him. When he could still talk, he managed to tell me “Your….hair….looks…. dry.” I laughed and agreed.

Last night I sat by his bed and sang to him. He was unconscious but I imagined a slight reaction. I tried to offer comfort and peace. I wanted him to feel my loving  presence, and I told him that everything was good, everything was perfect, in case he was feeling any fear.

I joined the other siblings in the living room. There are seven of us, from 18 years old to 60.

My dad didn’t really care about me, but I was the Genius. He loved the other ones, though: The Artist, the Ladies Man, the Homemaker, the Weightlifter, the Looker and the Tennis Star.  He had asked us what we would like to have after he died. I asked for his old wedding band, mostly because everything  else was taken – his piano, his Rolex watch, his cars, his paintings, etc. The ring was in an envelope in a locked box with his will.

Sure enough, my sister noticed the envelope last night, torn open and empty. One of the siblings explained that our dad had decided to sell the ring, with the help of his caretaker. The story changed a few times and I left the house sobbing after screaming at the Tennis Star.

It couldn’t have ended any other way.

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Too Fat or Not Too Fat

If you haven’t seen The Big C, it’s a Showtime series about a spunky woman who has cancer.   A subplot features Gabourey Sidibe as a teenager whose boyfriend is a Russian immigrant, played by Boyd Holbrook, a popular male model and houseboy-quality hottie.

Every single time this couple appears in a scene, I can’t help but mutter, “As if” or “Oh please.” I don’t know how my husband can stand it.

I feel like if you’re not blind, you can see that Miss Sibide is too fat. She’s too fat to be healthy and too fat to be attractive. Maybe she’s a wonderful human being but she’s too damn fat.

Does the show want to make a statement about tolerance? Do we have to pretend that we don’t find the relationship absurd? Is it meant to challenge our “comfort zone?” For me, it only challenges my suspension of disbelief.

While it’s not fair that women are pressured to be thin, does that mean no one is too fat?

It doesn’t help that Miss Sibide’s acting is so awful in this role.   I’m sure she was phenomenal in Precious, but when she drones “You just want to get into my pants!” like she’s reading the phone book, I can’t help feeling she was cast primarily to irritate or disturb us. And it worked!

Thoughts or recriminations?

Posted in Celebrities | Tagged , , | 64 Comments