Image courtesy Style.com, fabulosity courtesy Mr. Lagerfeld for Chanel Couture.
Dating sucks. Which is why when this Liberace-glam knight sashayed down the Spring Couture runway for Chanel, I said to myself, I want to go to there. It’s like the glitter fairy descended upon my dreams and decided I must have this trussed-up Tin Man. Mitts off, ladies.
Vilnius, Lithuania
Gates, like doors, are also portals to buildings- homes, places of worship, offices, etc. They are meant to instill reverence, fear and intimidation, awe, or delicate beauty as you pass through them. In Vilnius, they are often made of masonry or iron, adorned with frescoes and curled metal symbols, and only hint at the secrets that lie within.
West Village, NYC, West 4th subway stop.
Advertising courtesy DIESEL.
Stupidity courtesy New Yorkers.
My existential statement on urban behaviour exhibited while riding our odious subway system. And other smart sounding stuff here.
Vilnius, Lithuania
Welcome back to my obsessions- doors and windows. These are some of my doors, photographed all throughout Vilnius on my recent trip there. Some look like little portals for gnomes, others, entrances for giants straight from the slightly creepy Lithuanian fairie tales my father used to read to me as a child. But from the most simplistic shed door to the most ornate wood cathedral thresholds, they are truly all feats of architectural craftsmanship. (*CLICK to enlarge on image)
If you have any questions on the location of the doors, please email me. Windows to follow soon….
Celebupub LEO was at it again, my sources report. Pictures have now surfaced of America’s Sweetheart pup engaging in some decidedly un- puppy behaviour. Allegedly, three weeks ago, Sir Bones was caught with Brownie Bear exiting New York’s St. Regis Hotel ’s back entrance by building staff. While he carefully avoided the paps out front, it was a maid who apparently had obtained some scandalous images of the tarty twosome in a boozy haze of brown liquor & cigarettes, and shopped them to all the major magazine & celeb blog outlets. Fortunately, mildabublys.com was able to obtain them first, seen here.
Left, Sir Leo Bones at the opening for his new clothing line, JUSTBONES,
and right, in happier times with Mrs.C.
Details have not surfaced about Leo Bones’s whereabouts, but sources speculate that he was seem aboard Tiger Woods’s yacht not long after the scandal broke, licking his wounds with the fellow philanderer. Soon after, rumors started to surface that he may no longer be stateside, instead opting to stay in his vacation villa in Costa Rica, while things blew over. Latest reports hint that he might be in fact ready to flock to the Florida Keys, to hopefully reunite with galpal Stacey C. We can only hope.
Image courtesy Dlisted.com
Designer Isabel Mastache. And I thought I had a BFF with issues of putting phalli all over her art….
Image courtesy Hollywood Rag. (Pun not intended)
Brazilian ‘Kini Wax needed here. That’s all I’m saying.
image courtesy www.newshotpost.com
Ok, So I know that every Tom, Dick and Elton has thrown in their 2 cents about their feelings on the recent death of Alexander McQueen. I have to say, it took me a while to formulate an opinion after hearing about the shock of his death. Truth is, no amount of media digging or inside word from his camp will ever know what was really going through his head and what ultimately made this tragic decision. Its more than abundantly clear that anyone with the slightest interest in fashion worshiped him like the fashion genius he was. Hell, I rememeber salivating after his designs when I was a student at F.I.T., and now, 12 years later, my own students proclaimed him to be also one of their favorites. I remember thinking, man, this dude is still edgy and has relavance with the Gossip Girl Generation. Truthfully, in fashion, anything over 10 years is really timeless.
But the tragedy of it all is what really gets me. I did a brief stint interning for Lee, (his nickname around friends and people that new him well) when he did his first and last show in New York. It was incredible- Gisele dancing around in her scanties during fittings as we soldiered on, sewing 100’s of coins on a headpiece for the show sweat-shop style. There was a promising intern who worked on a parachute-size cape with patchwork octagons of red and white as $10,000 a day DJ’s mixed custom music in the corner. And of course, to every fashion King, there was a requisite Queen. His name was-shall we say- Sebastard.
Last I heard, this little Spanish sycophant was off busing tables in his native island of Majorca, but at the time, he was Lee’s right hand and my worst nightmare. To say he was unpleasant was an understatement. I don’t want to sound too self-involved, and though it was true that I had a slight shine of Midwestern ignorance within my pallor, but I felt it gave him personal joy to torture me by belittling me in front of the rest of the group and forcing me upon impossible errands he knew I couldn’t complete. He even accused me of stealing gloves en route to the show, when everyone, though exhausted, was in wonderful spirits and grateful for one anothers’ mutual contribution. Many mornings before heading to that short-lived internship, I would cry from a payphone to my mother, and she would patiently tell me that I needed to stick it out, thicken my skin, that this was an experience I would remember for a lifetime. And she was right. I did.
But despite all of it, what I did remember was Lee, who, one day cheerfully plopped down a scented candle onto the table I was working at. He smiled at us all, grateful for our free assistance to making his show a success. He was smart, knew what he wanted, but was unfortunately, at the time, mired by these people that fueled their own insecurities by making other people feel worse. Now, while I’m not suggesting that this brief experience over 10 years ago was what triggered the events to unfold as they have, but I can’t imagine that the world he surrounded himself with was more than a visceral tonic. I hope Lee finds rest in the never-ending peace of eternity, and he’s certainly left this designer with tremendous gratitude in having friends that ground her, keep her honest, and above all, love and support me for everything I am.
Union Square East, NYC.
Damn, someone must have filled out her Mystic Tan punch card with fury, because all I thought that you got free was a 2-fer packet of coconut tanning lotion and a handful of Lifestyle condoms. Hookin’ must be good if you’re getting a precious pair of pumps from Christian Louboutin. And by Louboutin, I mean, a $5 discount to the Strawberry on 14th st.
