Albert Hofmann, who invented LSD, died this week at age 102. I went to read about him at MAPS, where he is obviously revered. I learned that when Hofmann took his second ‘trip,’ he was only able to write 13 words to describe his experience:
“Beginning dizziness, feeling of anxiety, visual distortions, symptoms of paralysis, desire to laugh.”
That sums it up pretty well, except for the part where you get paranoid and you can’t bear the way your face looks in the mirror and you keep trying to vacuum the same part of the rug and your mom comes in and yells at you.
How ironic that Hofmann’s death coincides with a horrible fashion flashback to the 70s. Every fashion site I look at is infested with colorful long dresses that don’t seem appropriate for anything besides a Love-in. I’ve even noticed peacock feather earrings, too.
Maybe these fashions are directed towards young girls, whose mothers are sure to scream “Bummer!” at the sight of those awful swirling prints. Thank god I have sons, who both prefer to dress in black.
On a blog I’ve just discovered at Elle magazine online, a writer describes herself as “….takes her style cues from Katherine Hepburn, Tina Chow, Mary Kate Olsen” etc. This struck me as kind of nauseating and self-aggrandizing, but of course it inspired me to try to encapsulate my own sense of style.
“Sister Wolf takes her fashion cues from Patti Smith, Morticia Addams, Keith Richards, and a Jewish grandma circa 1975. If it’s leather, black, cashmere, snakeskin or sparkly, I want it.”
“Sister Wolf takes her fashion cues from Patti Smith, Morticia Addams, Keith Richards, and a Jewish grandma circa 1975. If it’s leather, black, cashmere, snakeskin or sparkly, I want it.”
Blahahahaha!
Mine’s probably something like Ricki Lee Jones, Nico, and Joan Jett … which means mostly black, anything that I can wear with my chuck taylors, punk rock but still feminine, and over the top velvets, mod coats … Basically — I’m a fashion disaster.