(from the February 2011 Urban Outfitters catalog)
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Doggies in the Window
Even though I have a Gary*, I secretly still prefer dogs. That's why I get so excited for the Westminster Dog Show. It's like a cuddlier version of Miss USA. Fortunately, the New York Times has created a totally awesome image gallery of every best of breed winner, so we can all pick out our favorite puppy wuppies!
My favorite puppy wuppies (in order of appearance):
And on the 8th day, God said, let there be naps with Bernese Mountain Dogs.
The Bloodhound, because I want to smush my face in this dog's face.
Yeah, I love huge dogs. The bigger the better, and the Great Dane wins.
The Irish Wolfhound. These guys are just so giant and awesome, and this one time when I was little I got to hang out with one allll day with my babysitter and, man, that dog was just the COOLEST.
Watch out Beyonce, this Otterhound's about to show you up, getting all SORTS of scruffalicious. I'm putting a ring on it. If I owned this dog, I'd walk around the neighborhood singing like Orphan Annie all day, every day.
Alright, so this dog is like, "whaaat?!" but at the end of the day, his name is Cordmaker Rumpus Bumpus, so he obviously gets my vote. (By the way, the breed is the Puli, soon to be known as the North American Rumpus Bumpus. Big shoutz to Genevieve and Armel for bringing this to my attention.)
This one didn't photograph too well, but I've always wanted a Saluki. They look so lithe and delicate, and I want to make one love me. They're like the runway model of dogs.
This Irish Red & White Setter looks like ice cream tastes.
The Shiba Inu is about as close as you can get to a domestic fox. Therefore, gimme gimme.
The Spinone Italiano makes we want to start smoking pipes, wear jackets with leather elbow patches, and drive an Aston Martin. (Yes, I know that's not the intended cultural reference, but it clearly doesn't matter.) Let's do it, Italiano. I name you: Watsioni.
Phew! Well that was fun. Clearly this is only the top 10 of my top 35 breeds. My main goal is to snag some tickets to next year's show at MSG. I'm going to secretly fill my pockets with bacon and then let the magic unfold. I wonder if they screen for that?
*By the way, check out image number 3 (as of today... duh). Actually, even more important to check out is Gary's Bizarro World/Doppelganger: woah, woah, woah.
**Anyone else notice a severe lack of weimaraners, dalmations, pugs, german shepherds, etc.?
My favorite puppy wuppies (in order of appearance):
And on the 8th day, God said, let there be naps with Bernese Mountain Dogs.
The Bloodhound, because I want to smush my face in this dog's face.
Yeah, I love huge dogs. The bigger the better, and the Great Dane wins.
The Irish Wolfhound. These guys are just so giant and awesome, and this one time when I was little I got to hang out with one allll day with my babysitter and, man, that dog was just the COOLEST.
Watch out Beyonce, this Otterhound's about to show you up, getting all SORTS of scruffalicious. I'm putting a ring on it. If I owned this dog, I'd walk around the neighborhood singing like Orphan Annie all day, every day.
Alright, so this dog is like, "whaaat?!" but at the end of the day, his name is Cordmaker Rumpus Bumpus, so he obviously gets my vote. (By the way, the breed is the Puli, soon to be known as the North American Rumpus Bumpus. Big shoutz to Genevieve and Armel for bringing this to my attention.)
This one didn't photograph too well, but I've always wanted a Saluki. They look so lithe and delicate, and I want to make one love me. They're like the runway model of dogs.
This Irish Red & White Setter looks like ice cream tastes.
The Shiba Inu is about as close as you can get to a domestic fox. Therefore, gimme gimme.
The Spinone Italiano makes we want to start smoking pipes, wear jackets with leather elbow patches, and drive an Aston Martin. (Yes, I know that's not the intended cultural reference, but it clearly doesn't matter.) Let's do it, Italiano. I name you: Watsioni.
Phew! Well that was fun. Clearly this is only the top 10 of my top 35 breeds. My main goal is to snag some tickets to next year's show at MSG. I'm going to secretly fill my pockets with bacon and then let the magic unfold. I wonder if they screen for that?
*By the way, check out image number 3 (as of today... duh). Actually, even more important to check out is Gary's Bizarro World/Doppelganger: woah, woah, woah.
**Anyone else notice a severe lack of weimaraners, dalmations, pugs, german shepherds, etc.?
Saturday, February 19, 2011
My Paperless Post Post
I am a huge fan of Paperless Post. Ever since my cousin's fiancee sent around invitations for her bridal shower, I was converted. There is no turning back. I am sending cards left and right, popping them out like it's nobody's business.
Well, I guess it's Paperless Post's business. And they are good at what they do. For far less than it would cost to send actual cards, you can send out really well designed digital ones in about 30 seconds. Plus, if it's an invitation, Paperless Post provides you with a really useful RSVP tracker.
Really, though, the best part about this site is the designs. These cards are awesome to look at-- whether they are cute or girly or serious and formal, they are all on point. Run one quick google search for cards and invitations, and you'll see how much awful, garish, cheesy, color-overloaded crap is out there. This site is extremely refreshing.
I sent two cards to James on Valentine's day, which were very funny, I like to think, and I'm extremely tempted to put them up here. But I am not going to be that girl. So I will show you the fronts...
Not too shabby, right? Later on I fell in love with this one, and it's making me wish one of my friends would get violently ill.
It turns out that all three of these cards are made by a Brooklyn-based design company, called Enormous Champion. Realizing I clearly love them, I check out their site. Turns out they also make amazing WHALE TOWELS and have a cat named PENNY LANE! Meanwhile, here I am, loving the shit out of whales and naming my cat Penny Lane. This is magic. Do not deny it. Look at this effing whale towel I am going to own in 3-5 business days. Thank you, Paperless Post. Thank you.
Well, I guess it's Paperless Post's business. And they are good at what they do. For far less than it would cost to send actual cards, you can send out really well designed digital ones in about 30 seconds. Plus, if it's an invitation, Paperless Post provides you with a really useful RSVP tracker.
Really, though, the best part about this site is the designs. These cards are awesome to look at-- whether they are cute or girly or serious and formal, they are all on point. Run one quick google search for cards and invitations, and you'll see how much awful, garish, cheesy, color-overloaded crap is out there. This site is extremely refreshing.
I sent two cards to James on Valentine's day, which were very funny, I like to think, and I'm extremely tempted to put them up here. But I am not going to be that girl. So I will show you the fronts...
Not too shabby, right? Later on I fell in love with this one, and it's making me wish one of my friends would get violently ill.
It turns out that all three of these cards are made by a Brooklyn-based design company, called Enormous Champion. Realizing I clearly love them, I check out their site. Turns out they also make amazing WHALE TOWELS and have a cat named PENNY LANE! Meanwhile, here I am, loving the shit out of whales and naming my cat Penny Lane. This is magic. Do not deny it. Look at this effing whale towel I am going to own in 3-5 business days. Thank you, Paperless Post. Thank you.
Friday, February 18, 2011
Clam Jam #13: Southpaw Was the Shit
Alright, three cheers for Dio's brithday. If it wasn't for that spectacular evening, we may have never gone to Southpaw, and never danced to the glory that was the 90s. I busted out so many moves that I learned off of MTV's "The Grind." (The most successful was, of course, the pepper shake.) James created a new move: The Dougie, straight into The Bernie. He made several women fall in love with him on the dance floor.
Needless to say, the night, and its jamz, are still hot on my mind. This Clam Jam is brought to you by one of my favorite moments of the night:
Oh and um, here's a video of The Grind? Should we talk about how weird it is that this was an actual show? Maybe focus a discussion on Why the Hell is That Girl Riding a Stationary Bike? Just leave it alone? Yeah, ok.
Needless to say, the night, and its jamz, are still hot on my mind. This Clam Jam is brought to you by one of my favorite moments of the night:
Oh and um, here's a video of The Grind? Should we talk about how weird it is that this was an actual show? Maybe focus a discussion on Why the Hell is That Girl Riding a Stationary Bike? Just leave it alone? Yeah, ok.
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Alice + Olivia + Digression
So... blah blah blah, it's fashion week. This time of year does nothing but make me feel short, poor, and covetous. Well, pass me the Ben & Jerry's and a gift card to Forever21, because I'm diving in head first.
Alice + Olivia are kind of the coolest, right? And they're, like, almost in my price range. There's this glimmer of hope that some day within the next decade, I can walk into an Alice + Olivia boutique and be like, "BAM - Grab me that dress in a 4, woman. Mama's taking it home with her tonight." And then I spill like a milkshake or something on it and my cat cuts a hole in the sleeve that night, but WHATEVER! It's still mine.
So um, the 20s? Yeah they're kicking it. It's good because in nine years it'll be the 20s again and then, shit, we'll all be ready to shimmy and party and just roar it the fuck up in golden age part two. It's gonna be the bees knees.
Also maybe this is the sign of the end of the prohibition coming? Eh? Eh? Wink wink?
Whatever.
Look at this couch that's almost ten times better than those clothes, but also very reminescent!
This photo was taken in the dressing room of what is clearly the coolest place to buy clothes on the planet: Post Script. It's all vintage shi shi run by ex-model Julie Skinner, whose life basically makes my existence look like a modern tragedy. Check it out.
This is some sort of *totally amazing* item you can apparently buy at her store, *if your life is made of silk and diamonds and unicorn tears that you sprinkle in your champagne to make all your dreams come true that day.* I would sell a sizable portion of my soul to wear this out to a disco dance party.
Speaking of... whatever it is I'm saying, Swirl by Daily Candy is now selling vintage bags from Balenciaga, Dior, Chloe, Gucci, Valentino -- you know, all the kids at the popular table. Really, "vintage" here means "totally outdated-looking a la 1998-2003." This was not a good time for bags, folks. Remember the tiny little u-shaped slouchy ones? And the saddle bags? Say what you will, I was not a fan. I am even less of a fan now. These things do not translate well over time. That said, this little number is pretty tight (and kinda goes with my theme here):
Skunk. Who'da thunk it. I could add this to my odd varieties of fur collection... or my curio collection. Whichever. I want to wear this in the rockiest of ways, even though that's about the lamest thing that's come out of my mouth in days. What I'm trying to say is that this bag would look best with some skin tight leather pants and a BMI of about 2.5. You should definitely only hold it if you also have a cigarette in your hand. I mean, your mouth.
It's like if Kate Moss and Nancy both had time machines, and they collided mid-trip and smashed down in 1924, you know? It's not hard, people.
By the way, 1920s chicks were totally badass. Look at these broads, just out on the town, broadin' it up. They're probably about to go flap. And drink moonshine.
On a final note (finally) this is my favorite one. Give me that head, right now.
Alice + Olivia are kind of the coolest, right? And they're, like, almost in my price range. There's this glimmer of hope that some day within the next decade, I can walk into an Alice + Olivia boutique and be like, "BAM - Grab me that dress in a 4, woman. Mama's taking it home with her tonight." And then I spill like a milkshake or something on it and my cat cuts a hole in the sleeve that night, but WHATEVER! It's still mine.
So um, the 20s? Yeah they're kicking it. It's good because in nine years it'll be the 20s again and then, shit, we'll all be ready to shimmy and party and just roar it the fuck up in golden age part two. It's gonna be the bees knees.
Also maybe this is the sign of the end of the prohibition coming? Eh? Eh? Wink wink?
Whatever.
Look at this couch that's almost ten times better than those clothes, but also very reminescent!
This photo was taken in the dressing room of what is clearly the coolest place to buy clothes on the planet: Post Script. It's all vintage shi shi run by ex-model Julie Skinner, whose life basically makes my existence look like a modern tragedy. Check it out.
This is some sort of *totally amazing* item you can apparently buy at her store, *if your life is made of silk and diamonds and unicorn tears that you sprinkle in your champagne to make all your dreams come true that day.* I would sell a sizable portion of my soul to wear this out to a disco dance party.
Speaking of... whatever it is I'm saying, Swirl by Daily Candy is now selling vintage bags from Balenciaga, Dior, Chloe, Gucci, Valentino -- you know, all the kids at the popular table. Really, "vintage" here means "totally outdated-looking a la 1998-2003." This was not a good time for bags, folks. Remember the tiny little u-shaped slouchy ones? And the saddle bags? Say what you will, I was not a fan. I am even less of a fan now. These things do not translate well over time. That said, this little number is pretty tight (and kinda goes with my theme here):
Skunk. Who'da thunk it. I could add this to my odd varieties of fur collection... or my curio collection. Whichever. I want to wear this in the rockiest of ways, even though that's about the lamest thing that's come out of my mouth in days. What I'm trying to say is that this bag would look best with some skin tight leather pants and a BMI of about 2.5. You should definitely only hold it if you also have a cigarette in your hand. I mean, your mouth.
It's like if Kate Moss and Nancy both had time machines, and they collided mid-trip and smashed down in 1924, you know? It's not hard, people.
By the way, 1920s chicks were totally badass. Look at these broads, just out on the town, broadin' it up. They're probably about to go flap. And drink moonshine.
On a final note (finally) this is my favorite one. Give me that head, right now.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Getting Back to Our Roots
Sometimes, we all just have to take a moment and remember where we came from. And we, ladies and gentlemen, are rooted in a solid foundation, built brick by brick, pearl by pearl, out of a deep love for one thing:
This guy comes with a lot of questions: Is he dancing? Walking around outside? Is it Halloween? Is he selling food? Is his costume partially constructed out of condoms? but most importantly ... Who is his friend with that sweet, sweet jacket? We should be friends!
This guy comes with a lot of questions: Is he dancing? Walking around outside? Is it Halloween? Is he selling food? Is his costume partially constructed out of condoms? but most importantly ... Who is his friend with that sweet, sweet jacket? We should be friends!
Monday, February 14, 2011
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