Monday, August 24, 2009
the right side of the bed
all images from house to homeright now i really want to figure out what my perfect bedroom would look like. i'm into light colored bedding in cream, or beige or white, uncluttered space, naturalistic accents, battered items alongside the brand new, and a few well-chosen bits of color. i want simplicity and efficiency and comfort. i want ease and tranquility and traces of nostalgia. i wouldn't mind one of these rooms...
Thursday, August 20, 2009
underdogs
so basically, i'm forever amazed by dogs— and these rawboned stray dog hustlers of moscow have taken my amazement to a whole new level. apparently when the soviet union collapsed in the 1990's, industrial complexes were moved from the city center to the suburbs, and this shift forced the stray dogs to change their survival strategies. they had always used the industrial complexes as safe shelters to sleep in at night, but during the day they foraged for food in the city streets where scraps were more accessible and plentiful. but once their shelters were moved to the suburbs, they had to start commuting to the city center to still get to that easy food. so guess what?— they figured out how to use the subway. can it get any more wonderful than that? can it get any more absurd and astonishing? can it get any more real, any simpler? i mean, of course they figured it out, they had to. these are the kind of dogs i'd want to hang out with— duck in and out of shadows with, weave through streets and legs and noise with, learn a few tricks from. these guys have it down, they travel to the city to eat, and then in the evenings they go back to the suburbs. they are like businessmen going to the city to make shit happen, to earn what they need to live. just for a minute i want to let myself imagine them in suits and ties, holding briefcases, serious and tired, preparing themselves for the day ahead. oh yeah, you know what else? they like to just chill out in the subway in the winter to stay warm (enduring a moscow winter can't be fun), and they know what's up in traffic (when to cross, when not to), and they know how to get the last bite of whatever you're eating out of your hand.
check out this video of a little scrapper waiting for his train
Sunday, August 2, 2009
that seventies look
calvin klein ad with a very young brooke shields
i just love that seventies aesthetic. there is sex and haughtiness and gloss and fantasy. there is vulnerabilty and messiness and intrigue. there is softness and titillation and disturbance. through that seventies lens, women look both dangerous and tender—and that is a pretty dicey, but captivating combination.
Friday, July 31, 2009
the ballerina bus
photo by ernesto bazan
my brother loves ballerinas. i think he likes that they look like small deer or foxes— delicate, wide-eyed, lithe-limbed. i think he likes that they are dedicated, structured, and obsessed. i think he likes that they are in some way a throw-back to a different time— symbols of classic training, traditional arts, and the legacy and honor of working hard at what you love.
in the summer-time ballerinas come here from all over the nation to train. and one summer my brother lived with me for a few months. the bus he and i rode to get to work downtown in the mornings was the same bus that all the ballerinas would ride from their dormitories to their ballet school. they would get onto the bus a few stops after ours. they all had hair pulled up into tight buns, eyes exaggerated with make-up, arched backs, long necks, and feet that pivoted outwards. they were always in a big group, and all of a sudden the bus was full of 8 or 10 or 12 magnificent ballerinas. they were like a different species—gorgeous and slight and poised. even in their sweatpants that they pulled over their leotards they made the rest of us look sloppy, like a bunch of slouches just trying to make it through the day.
at the stop where they waited to get on, before the doors of the bus even opened, my brother and i would smile at each other. and then we would stare at them, one by one, as they filed down the aisle of the bus.
in the summer-time ballerinas come here from all over the nation to train. and one summer my brother lived with me for a few months. the bus he and i rode to get to work downtown in the mornings was the same bus that all the ballerinas would ride from their dormitories to their ballet school. they would get onto the bus a few stops after ours. they all had hair pulled up into tight buns, eyes exaggerated with make-up, arched backs, long necks, and feet that pivoted outwards. they were always in a big group, and all of a sudden the bus was full of 8 or 10 or 12 magnificent ballerinas. they were like a different species—gorgeous and slight and poised. even in their sweatpants that they pulled over their leotards they made the rest of us look sloppy, like a bunch of slouches just trying to make it through the day.
at the stop where they waited to get on, before the doors of the bus even opened, my brother and i would smile at each other. and then we would stare at them, one by one, as they filed down the aisle of the bus.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
so fine
from harper's bazaar july 2009, photo: terry richardson
found on models.com, from v man, spring/summer 2009doutzen kroes— she's got glamour down. her face is almost too perfectly pretty, too ideal—the big lips, the big blue eyes, the sloping nose...but somehow she never seems boring. there is some kind of brightness in her, some kind of slyness. she's fine, foxy and sleek. she looks like one of those decadent early 1970's models to me...all that wavy hair, the arched back, the sexed up eyes.
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