Archive Page 2
teenagers – starlett johansson
<3 the teenagers.
this video isn’t up to their previous video, but it’s still an amazing song.
here is the previous video, just in case.
Filed under: music, non-ipod love | Leave a Comment
Tags: music, scarlett johansson, starlett johansson, teenagers
men’s brooches
i understand that the classic american mentality of masculinity doesn’t afford the typical male of being able to maximize the amazing power of the accessory.
even with the surge of tie pins, tie clips and cuff links in the men’s fashion market place, the timepiece reigns supreme and with a fist that seems to overshadow all other objects on “well-dressed” man.
almost always, the “well-dressed” man is a man of simplicity and subtle masculinity. He is almost always pictured wearing a suit. He is clean-shaven with hair cut short. He wears a white oxford to emphasize the pristine nature of his taste and has a watch that silently screams affluence and prestige.
these images inundate the “fashion” magazines only because they sell. america does not want to patronize a male image capable of more exciting fashion potential. fashion is a women’s world and held steadfast by these women as a territory that only a select few have been able to penetrate since they are of no threat to the reigning matriarch.
interestingly these female queens are not the people you would expect. they are the girl down the street or the women at work who think that because you, as a man, are interested in fashion that you must be of the select few who are capable of penetrating the matriarch (read gay).
ridiculous.
and so i’ve decided that i should declare my love for pins, brooches and all the like not as an eccentric, but as a man who will not be deterred by the judging view of middle america.
viva la revolution.
(by the way the purple and orange chanel pins in this pic are my next aspiring conquest.)
(pray that i make enough money this month)
Filed under: fashion, gay, too much thinking | 1 Comment
Tags: brooches, chanel, matriarch, Men's Fashion, middle america, pins
new job
with my recent move to chicago, I’ve obviously had to start a new job. And as always with major changes in my life, I’ve had to stubbornly focus on that single aspect until I’ve reached a certain level of comfort with it.
Hence my blogging has been nonexistent.
But, I hope to restart this soon and discuss some of the fashion things that I’ve noticed about the midwest, particularly chicago.
Filed under: GFNYC, chicago, fashion | Leave a Comment
Tags: chicago, moving, new job
fashion ennui
i prefer not to write about fashion shows because when they do occur, every gay jane and mary has something to pollute the blogosphere about how ugly something was or how impractical it was. i obviously respect the opinion of a few, but for the most part, it’s all garbage. that’s just my FYI.
just because you ‘re gay and work in retail does not make you a style icon.
but, i digress.
the only show that i’ve resonated with even remotely is the spring 2008 CDG show. the initial pieces of the show were almost violent. it screamed chaos and rebellion against all this irrational over analysis of the fashion realm. the modern retro throwback updates to every single decade we have ever been through thrice over, the over commercialization of couture shows that make me think i’m looking at a rack of horribly bland cookie cutters in a middle class american mall and this increasing belief that just because you know what louis vuitton is that you are entitled to make gross sweeping generalizations of what good fashion is.
i’m not going to say that i’m the best or that i even know what i’m talking about. but, for the most part, i’m tired of this diluted dribble of what fashion has become. it’s become a business foremost for a growing upper middle class that could care less about quality, design or artisan techniques. it’s all about the logo.
there are so many things i could say that place blame on a luxury goods industry hungry for profit or a middle class who blindly consumes anything that raises their perceived class levels, but all this ultimately leads to is a feeling of disillusionment.
it just doesn’t feel special anymore.
and that’s what makes me hate it. but here i am still constantly discussing it.
*sigh*
i need a drink.
Filed under: Faux-fur, fashion, gay, too much thinking | 1 Comment
Tags: comme de garcon, conflict, ennui, fashion, hate, remorse, spite
regina spektor
she’s one of the few singer / songwriter types that i can actually listen to without evoking images of mall ridden teenagers in uggs and bad scarves.
the other is tori amos. unfortunately, tori amos is too obvious as a gay icon for me.
regardless, i really do love this song and the simplicity in the a bit cliche video concept, but i’ll post it anyway.
and yeah… the hair.
she looks like she needs some hedge clippers to trim it down.
but otherwise <3
Filed under: music, non-ipod love | Leave a Comment
Tags: better, music video, Regina Spektor, Tori Amos
sarah silverman
i just finished watching the sarah silverman show season premiere.
i’m totally speechless.
either that girl is brilliant or just plain old insane.
god help us all.
Filed under: Uncategorized | Leave a Comment
Tags: Sarah Silverman
guest:thor progeny
i asked some of my friends to write guest entries relating to what i guess occupies most of this blog; they mostly ended up with comments on the fashion world. i’m slightly concerned on whether that makes me incredibly superficial or not. Regardless, here is a short story written by my friend. Hopefully you enjoy it as much as i did.
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Dulled and bedraggled I wandered into Amber Crosby and Finch or some such emporium. The walls gleamed grayscale with half-nekkid heterosexuals, shaved close, well-ab’d and smooth as ice, hip bones ready to melt, and a number of somewhat angular OC denizens, forthwith known as Asian Americans, had deposited themselves between racks of raggedy jeans and jerseys and set their eyes so that no one–that is everyone–the least bit predatory could catch their gaze as they shopped. Oh, there were some blonds in the back, but them’s rare and in short supply these days in post-Beach Boys California, and a black guy wandered in and out, slapped by sticker shock when he examined briefly the price tag on a striped “imported” beanie. A boisterous and neo-stereotypical apple-shaped lesbian with an antique orange Mohawk interrupted my private upbraiding of fellow shoppers and their indifference to my lust, and she said, “Do you need help, sir? You look lost, sir.” As if by “sir” she meant to impugn my entire gender, race and advanced age at the same time (my scruff makes me appear sallow and straight to these butch children of 1988), and when I said, “I just came in here for a knife,” her face turned strange; her mouth flattened like a pressed lily, and her mean-spirited frown took on the ghastly visage of a Halloween mask. “A what?” she said, as if the monosyllabic word made no sense to her, as if I’d quoted Whitman. “A knife. A knife,” I said. I looked around and confirmed my surroundings. “Doesn’t this place sell outdoor supplies?” “No, sir. You’re in the wrong store, sir.” “Really? I was certain they sold knives and compasses, leather chaps, stirrups, stuff like that.” “No, sir. This is a clothing store. We sell fashion and cologne.” “I see, and where are the hang ‘em ropes?” “The what?” “The nooses, sweetie, the ropes for lassoes and the like.” ” Sir,” she said, by now with balled fists and sweat on her mustache, her exposed eyelids thin and widening, like the vulvae of a ripe elk cow. “This is a store for clothes. You know, polos and fleece and–” “Fleece,” I interrupted, really on a roll, playing a role, acting droll. “Made of wool?” “Cotton,” she corrected. “But fleece…isn’t that wool?” “No, sir. It’s not made from the fur coat of a sheep.” “Oh, but it’s so tattered and worn looking, isn’t it?” I struck a match against my grizzled jaw and held it out to brighten the frayed collar of a nearby polo shirt. This sudden appearance of a flame apparently alarmed my interlocutor. I witnessed the yellow jaundice of her eyes, and the flush of testosterone made her cheeks burn crimson, and her intensity surged so much that, for a brief moment, I thought a hungry spider had snuck between the sole of her rubber-canvas flip flops and taken a salacious bite. “Security!” she called, and I bizounced, skedaddled like a greasy homeless man observed taking a bath in a public fountain, and my shoelaces, dangling, wrapped themselves in the steel teeth of the escalator and caused me to fall, and when I stood, I discovered that all of my clothes had shredded and torn: undone buttons dangled, loose threads erupted from holes… whereupon I looked normal, finally, I fit in, and a supermodel smiled upon me, lifted up my chin and said, “Hello.”
Filed under: fashion, too much thinking | Leave a Comment
Tags: A&F, Abercrombie, fashion, guest entry, short story
pete doherty
watching this…
…got me thinking. when in the world, did i let my ever revolving image transform itself into an asian doppelganger for the famous blood-squirting druggie? i think it started with my black skinny jeans. it had to have been. before i knew it, i was draping myself in these formless t-shirts and a knit fedora hat.
but, when i look like this does that mean i am indirectly approving of and even idolizing his life choices? it’s become a joke to my friends that if it looks like pete doherty will wear it, then i surely will love it. but how much do my clothes speak of my political ideology? i mean, if i were to wear a cross, all sorts of inferences would be made about my political nature. i would be labeled a religious imperialist looking to fill your head with my chosen memeplex. wonderful.
gangs have long used colors to signify political alliance, but that doesn’t mean i’m going to stop wearing red or blue or purple and gold since that would be unreasonable.
but i am imitating / taking inspiration from a single powerful image – hey, even GQ agrees.
should i feel guilty for this? am i over-analyzing this whole issue? what do the symbols we decide to adorn ourselves with really communicate to strangers?
i know i’m just going to tell people i separate my fashion admiration from his drug induced stupor, but still i feel a little weird, so maybe i’ll just change it up.
it’s time for some change anyway.
this is a new city and all.
i’m thinking: pete doherty meets the 60s space age. lots of shiny patents and colorful graphic inspired blocking in my current silhouettes. like if pete doherty were to be infatuated with shiny patent leather all of a sudden.
plus that way, i can incorporate some of the new phillip lim stuff for spring…
god, i love shopping.
Filed under: Faux-fur, GFNYC, buy, chicago, fashion, too much thinking | 2 Comments
Tags: Babyshambles, fashion, French Dog Blues, Pete Doherty, Phillip Lim, symbols
kanya miki
The ever increasing popularity of Aloha Rag has been surprising: i remember going there on my last trip to Honolulu and thinking, “it’s so small.” But, their website has been slowly stepping up it’s quote unquote game – for the lack of a better word – ever since and their collection of demeulemesster and lim is one of the best on-line, even beating out long time fall-back option e-luxury when things were sold out in my favorite boutiques in soho.
And what makes it even better is that they have amazing label: Kosmetique by Kanya Miki. Gorgeous. i love the rocker type asymmetrical lines and slightly askew aesthetic. it screams rocker elegance and currently incorporates my fascination with an over-sized silhouette. The price point is a little high for a brand new label – though his first new show was in 2005 – and i hate to pay more than a grand for any single item of clothing, but he might be one of the first few labels that i would gladly fork over my hard earned money for.
And it’s an added bonus that he was the first japanese national to graduate from the royal academy of art in antwerp. plus he’s kinda cute. brownie points all around.
Filed under: Faux-fur, buy, fashion | 1 Comment
Tags: Aloha Rag, fashion, Japanese, Kanya Miki, Kosmetique Label, Men's Fashion
finally
so the last few months of toil and anxiety finally reached an appex yesterday with my flight from NYC into O’Hare.
arrived at my new apartment at around 2pm, slightly dazed and emotionally heavy when it finally dawned on me that i would no longer be able to cast my eyes along the new york skyline from my office at work. *sigh*
but, this will be a new adventure, a new city to conquer and to reinvent myself as the new and improved elitist japanese faux hipster bitch that i am.
Filed under: GFNYC, chicago, too much thinking | Leave a Comment
Tags: chicago, new york
