Os Gemeos: the boys are back in town

Thanks to Os Gemeos and an 80-foot Genie Boom, I got to fly high above the city on Saturday:


You can find my details about the twins' new painting in Chelsea at Dossier (click), and I'll likely divulge more soon. I had Brazil on the brain at Closettour (click) this weekend too.

love and death on the Q-train

Romance blooms and a Silly Band snaps on a summer morning in Manhattan.

all the world's a stage

As I reported Saturday morning for Dossier (click), it seems I'm not the only one who finds my subway landing to be somewhat cinematic.


Erin (my friend, neighbor, and editor at Dossier) and I will be keeping our eyes out for the Chanel ad starring our street. In the meantime this sign, left on South 5th, points directly towards home on Hooper.

We'll see what's on the script for 2010...

boas festas

Boas Festas is Brazil-speak for Happy Holidays, but literally it translates to "good parties," which is what I'm wishing for you, via a scan of a Christmas card I picked up at the flea market in Rio last summer.


It seems especially appropriate this year, since I'm writing from Sambazon's (click) San Clemente headquarters, while the Black brothers, my hosts, prepare to take off for Brazil tomorrow.

I'll happily hold down the fort for another day before I head back to NYC, where the forecast is for...snow. I've got lots of love to keep me warm, so fueled with that, some California sunshine and saltwater, and a boa festa or two, we'll pull through the rest of this winter.

Boas Festas, Happy Holidays, lots of love!

baby, it's cold outside

I was really looking forward to another Caribbean Christmas (click), but it seems, at the last minute, that it isn't in the cards this year.

For a day or two, I was excited about staying in Brooklyn. I listened to Petula Clark sing "Baby It's Cold Outside" at least 20 times.


I walked around, admiring Christmas lights.

My favorite, a fox in the snow.


I baked peppermint and peanut butter kisses for a party (while listening to Petula Clark.)


I donned a festive and shimmering gold sweater for said parties.


And tromped cheerily through the snow to arrive.

And then, I thought, "Baby, it is cold outside," and briefly considered stowing away on a container ship (click).



I found myself feeling more, "Fox in the Snow" than Petula Clark, and then I thought...don't I have a half a ticket to L.A. leftover from this spring? As it turns out, I do. So I bought the other half, and now this fox is getting out of the snow, headed to San Clemente for a few days in the waves.

hallelujah, holy shit

Well, I'm writing this post by candelight, and not because it's Hannukah.


Just a little while ago, not long after I finished my final re-write (graduation is tomorrow morning), I was doing a little housekeeping. My head was in the hall closet when suddenly everything went bright white and blue, and there was a loud buzzing sound.

It wasn't a Christmas angel descending on Hooper Street, but rather my living room light fixture, spewing sparks and igniting a small flame on the ceiling. An involuntarily yelp leapt from my lungs and I slammed off the light switch and called 911.

Three wisemen (hot firemen) turned up lickety split. The flames had died down by then, so they just knocked down part of the ceiling to make sure there were no embers still burning, and told me to have the super make sure the circuit breaker was off.



I had planned on having a Bloody Mary before graduation in the morning, and I'd say I still will, but it will likely be with Stefan, my stupendous super, while he fixes the wiring. He said he'll come early so I can get to school on time.

If I hadn't been home when this happened it could have been a really bad scene. But I'm just chillin' here in the dark with my corner store candles and a small pile of my ceiling swept up into the trash can. All my school-work is done, dad is on his way in from the airport, and I'm going to get a manicure. All's well that ends well.

Pssst!

Shhh...secret research at the Bryant Park Library, observed by iPhone.

Microfiche!

Literary lions, guarding the gate.

magazines and martinis

"Drink for reward, not for inspiration."

A New York Times columnist told me that a few years ago, as I was entertaining the thought of quitting my job at Edun to get a graduate degree in journalism. (He was about to speak on a panel; I offered him a drink.)

In any case, tonight I ignored said columnist's advice and drank for both reward and inspiration. It was a long week. As you likely know if you're reading this (since there's a solid chance you're related to me), I'm looking down the barrel of my final weeks of journalism school while interning at one of the bastions of long-form print journalism. Tonight, in the descending elevator at Condé Nast, one editor mentioned he was ready for a martini. Me too, I thought--but I would have mine at home.

I was exhausted, and furthermore, I knew Jeff Jarvis (click), was expecting our notes from CUNY's New Business Models for News conference. They called this forum a Hyper Camp, which I just love because it reminds me of Mike Myer's hyper-hypo, one of the great SNL skits of all time.



In all honesty, I don't think my notes from my short (is there any other kind?) stay at Hyper Camp need to be that extensive, because if you're really that interested, you were probably reading the tweets of everyone that was thumb-dancing on their blackberries around me while I took notes--in my notebook. I'm tempted to just scan them in, as we did my notes from Cynthia Rowley's Spring 2010 show(click), but alas...here's what I thought was interesting from the Hyper Camp (I love it!) meeting about Community Engagement and Marketing--from my notes in my notebook. I'll make bullets, in case anyone's averse to paragraphs.

• Mary Ann Giordano (click) said Brian Stelter (click) told her it takes a year for a blogger to build an audience, and that they have to be their own marketers.



• Debbie Galant, who founded Baristanet (click) said everyone in her family learned to blow up balloons in the early days of building her business--there's a specific helium proportion she recommends for longevity. You could email her for that. She also talked about the importance of readers' tips, citing the example of Baristanet's reporting a Monday night microburst, which is actually like a small tornado, even though it sounds like a meteorological event invented for Hyper Camp.



• Soraya Darabi (click), who manages online social media for The New York Times, told the bloggers on the panel to go where their audiences are (meaning websites they frequent), start a conversation, and if it doesn't catch, move on. Seems like good advice in general, no? (Darabi, btw, looks like she's probably had a fair deal of practice playing hard to get--for someone who specializes in virtual presence, she's rather striking in person.)



• David Cohn of spot.us (click) called himself a "relentless self-marketer." Next to that I wrote, that's just hustle. Nothing new there. He also said the transparency of his website's reporting made it appeal to civically minded people, that it takes a year for an audience to respond to you and trust you, and that it doesn't require a budget, it just requires sweat.



• Tina Kelley (click), of the Maplewood branch of The New York Times' Local Blog (which lots of CUNY students--click, click, click, contribute to), pointed out the problematic nature of covering contraversy in her own neighborhood. Debbie summed that up nicely, citing the motto of the Lake Wobegon Herald: "We have to live here too."

I might be dealing with a little of that myself.

more fall colors...

Just cause I'm busy doing research doesn't mean I'm not cruising for babes at the bus stop. Check out my latest style shot at Dossier. (click).

restoration

There's a new post on the Sartorialist's Dilemma, the remnant of a restorative weekend: click. Come take a meander with me there, and please leave comments (click) behind like little bread crumbs, so I know you stopped by.

Kate said she was so impressed (I think that was her nice way of saying surprised) that I left the suede jacket behind. Restoration, Kate, is all about letting go. And let's be honest, it will probably still be there when I go back next week.

hey mickey

Just a quick shout-out to Mickey Legg, whose email I only just discovered in my spam box.

photo compliments of Mickey Legg

Mickey was helping his friend Henry celebrate his 13th birthday at the No Age performance I wrote about for Vanity Fair's website (click). I could see over his shoulder that he was taking some sweet photos, and asked if he could send me one or two. And he did, in such a timely manner, but alas, it was lost in the evil spam box.

So, I just wanted to share this shot with you, of No Age playing their live soundtrack beneath a screening of The Bear, and say thank you, Mickey for sending it.

nyc autumn, as seen by iphone

I got to the Upper West Side a few minutes before my meeting this morning , and got to walk along the edge of the park. Let's go...

dreaming of

Hi dolls. This is the part of the semester where I sign off from the rest of my life until Thanksgiving.

Not Yet Titled, by Jules de Balincourt, courtesy of Zach Feuer Gallery

But first, I did get to talk with Jules de Balincourt at the preview of a completely awesome exhibit that no contemporary art lover in NYC should miss: click. I've been curious about Monsieur de Balincourt since I saw this epic painting at the Brooklyn Museum. I wrote a bit more for Dossier...(click).

Au revoir for now. I'll be waiting behind the waterfall for the semester to end.

of lost boys and wild things

Observing the wave of Peter Pan syndrome that's swept across Manhattan in Where the Wild Things Are's wake (likely from the direction of Williamsburg), I wonder if the phenomenon has less to do with nostalgia than with self-recognition in an island of sensitive and destructive creatures. "I wish you guys had a mom," says Max, looking into one Wild Thing's eyes. I can imagine a Lost Boy or two who's inspired the same reaction in me along the way.


JM Barrie, Peter Pan's author, suggested that girls are "much too clever" to be sent to Never Never Land, but the photo above might suggest otherwise. That's me, Deanna, and Erin, finding our inner Wild Things in Isla Vista, California--Never Never Land on earth, if there ever was. That shot was taken in 2003--I think by the big brother of that little boy on the left. I wonder how old he is now.

See Vanity Fair.com (click), for my elaboration on this idea.

free for all

Kevin Kearney (click) called me a cheap date (!) when I forewent my free footwear at Cole Haan's party the other night--but then I told him I was hungry.

photo from The Selby for Cole, Rood & Haan

For more details, see the Sartorialist's Dilemma. (click.)

smooth sailing

A shot from Gardiners Bay:

On the last Saturday in September, everything seems so simple. Here's hoping for steady breeze and sunshine through the fall.

recommended for a sunny sunday

If you, like me, sometimes find yourself paralyzed by the possibilities for a sunny Sunday in NYC, I'll offer some inspiration from my itinerary yesterday: tacos de desayuno (we got ours at Elote) followed by a walk to The Open at Deitch Projects in Long Island City.


It pretty much involves walking along McGuiness Blvd across the bridge to Queens, and hooking over towards the water.

(Click.)

Depending on your exact route, you might pass the Titanic Museum (click)--though the curator wasn't home yesterday when we stopped by,

and then heading all the way to the water where you'll have a dazzling view of the U.N. and the rest of the city. Or you could just swing up in your sailboat.

Here's a little preview of what you can look forward to.

tomatoes and sunflowers growing outside,

a cool, quiet, towering, sun-filled gallery inside,

coyotes prowling--I dreamt last night they were made of tin foil, (There are live animals too, but I won't tell you what kind.)



and a moonlit cakewalk.

We stopped for a beer on Vernon Blvd. before hitching the G back home. This spot (click) was closed for a private party, but if I was doing it all over again today--with you, for example, I might check it out. Happy trails, Eid, Rosh Hashanah, and, of course, Sunday.

is steven the new ralph?

Steven Alan Spring 2010 from Steven Alan on Vimeo.

Here's hoping that Spring 2010 looks, smells, sounds, and tastes something like Steven Alan's presentation a few nights ago. I think I sense a lifestyle brand...more on Dossier (click).

DVF: princess of power

This week I found personal and professional advice in a highly unlikely place: backstage at Fashion Week's Bryant Park tent.

The source however, was a reliable one. None other than Diane Von Furstenberg. Let's have a quick look at her to-do list so far: find my prince (click), design something revolutionary (click), become an icon (click), find my prince--again (click), make a comeback (click), become a contributing editor to a powerful publication (click), lead my profession's most visible association (click), beautify my city (click), and, as you can see below, have a healthy, beautiful, and supportive family. She must be doing something right.

This season's collection, not surprisingly, was pretty and powerful. But most powerful, I found, were Ms. Furstenberg's instructions for her models as they took to the runway. See below, and at Dossier, (click).

Karen the Kiwi

Karen Walker's show is one of my Fashion Week favorites. Maybe it's her New Zealand heritage, which reminds me of my favorite muses (click.) I would happily wear pretty much every piece she sends down the runway, but Karen herself is also a fount of fun ideas.

This season she pointed to the television show, "The Prisoner," as the source of her "'60s Edwardian on the seaside" inspiration, assuring me I wouldn't have to watch all 18 episodes on DVD to get the point. But if this trailer is any indication, I just might want to.

I love the name Patrick McGoohan, and I also love this shiny pencil gray slicker--perfect to hide under on a rainy day at the beach. See Dossier (click) to find out what else I would pack for my getaway with McGoohan.

Up next...my favorite Princess of Power...(the evolution of She-Ra).