Saturday, 19 September 2015

Nostalgia for Summer's Sake

The time has come at last.

The time I dream of when my bite-size fan from Duane Reade won't stop the sweat, when my only pair of jean shorts has a grease stain on them, when I stumble into my favorite brunch spot forgetting, yet again, that they don't have central air.

Fall is here. Times are changing. Rain is cold, shoulders are colder, I can finally pull my sweaters out of "storage" (under my mattress). It's my favorite time of year and I welcome it with open arms for the pretty lady that it is.

That being said, let us not forget the ravaging beast that was summer. It came, it conquered, it ate our productivity and left us curled up on a semi-shady, semi-grassy patch of McCarren park wishing frozen margs could teleport. I personally, loved it all, and from what I saw on the streets, you guys liked getting down on it as well.

Not to mention, you didn't look too bad while doing it.

Check a few of the glimpses I caught while on the party train:

4th of July at MoMA PS1:

Pitchfork Music Festival:

Ommegang Brewery's "Belgium Comes to Cooperstown" festival:

Dirtybird BBQ - Brooklyn:

High Tides' final boat cruise:

While we all looked fly during the 3 months of sweat, dancing, and beers, colder weather just means more layers to twerk with so don't slow your roll, people. The train won't stop for no one. 

Saturday, 1 August 2015

Power Couples

The only thing that gets me giddier than seeing a new coffee shop pop up on my morning walk is if my favorite opening scene from a movie is replicated in real life on my way to the newly discovered caffeine store. Seeing a human-canine combination unintentionally matching is not just a page out of the 101 Dalmatians screenplay; it is a dream come true if I am fortunate enough to be witness.

I found this cutie and his owner back in the colder days. Not only was the pup a ten, but his style rubbed off on his owner who was looking impeccably disheveled herself.

I wasn't sure if the owner would take it as a compliment in the moment - she warned me with her death stare that I caught her prior to her morning coffee/spliff/cartoons - but she and her companion definitely made cutest couple that day which is an accomplishment taking into consideration that I spent the afternoon watching the elderly link arms on Park Ave.

Owner, if you're reading this, although probably not (Hi Mom!!), I'm sorry for ruining your morning by interrupting your walk and tell your pup I'm sorry for ruining his morning by delaying his shit but just know you made my gray day much brighter.

Thursday, 28 May 2015

Where the Players Play

The day job has me on the move again. This time I'm making the weekly trek to ATL, or as tourists that don't know why the earth turns seem to think it is called- Hotlanta.

I'm not going to pretend like I've figured it all out after a couple weeks but what I do know about the city:
  • The radio is firing at all the times (Outkast on repeat)
  • A Wafflehouse is harder to miss than the bedazzled rims on my coworker's car
  • The average daily look makes my standard Saturday night-Bad Bitch outfit suddenly seem appropriate for Sunday service.
I found exhibit A at the mall...on a Tuesday:

 Admittedly, I'm no closer to looking this bad (aka damn fine) than I am to having 22's put on the minivan I got at Hertz this week. But hey, a girl can dream.  

Wednesday, 6 May 2015

Jungles and Jewels

I know I claim to be "born amidst the jungle" but no, my mother was not on a wildlife safari when her water broke. While being alive to tell that tale would have been way more epic than the truth, I was unfortunately born in a fairly metropolitan city that happens to be surrounded by jungles on the island of Sri Lanka (formally Ceylon for those that haven't taken Geography since the 80's) which I had the pleasure of visiting recently.

Anyone that has been to the island will tell you, without hesitation, that it is one of the most beautiful places they have ever seen. While the humans, as in most countries, are still trying to get it straight, all other living things seem to live in a beautiful state of symbiosis. Depending on the area, you can see coconut trees, rice paddies, monkeys, birds, elephants- all living and breathing peacefully together.

Natural beauty is definitely a factor that captivates tourists, but please believe- no one is flocking to this paradise island the get the inside scoop on the latest fashion trends. Sri Lanka has a good-sized textile industry, meaning there's a strong chance that  the tag on at least one of your shirts reads "Made in Sri Lanka". For that reason, the clothes in stores around the country consist of the 2-year-old overstock from off-brand clothing designers aka  nothing to report on Weirdochic.

What I found much more fascinating that the "current" trends at the local mall were the traditional costumes that are not seen anywhere else.

This, for example, is a group of Kandian dancers on their way to perform at a wedding. While they perform at several types of events, the costume is always pretty similar to this. How any one can make monkey ears look dope is beyond me but for that, I am infinitely jealous.

On the other end of the spectrum are the clothes worn in the comfort of a home. It's hotter than the Devil's private parts for most of the year so anything too heavy is impossible. Because one can get dresses like this at any street corner, my creepy obsession with the colors and patterns was met with confusion and concern by the people wearing them.

Remember- Sri Lanka may not be on the fashion week list any time soon but beauty and inspiration are everywhere so it's definitely worth a peek.

Sunday, 22 March 2015

Reality vs. Alternate Reality

Don't front like you have never done it- Seen an elderly man with a pink, plastic umbrella or a soccer mom with tear drops tattooed by her eyes or a kid with a leather-bound briefcase and thought to yourself-- "What's he got in that case?" Elaborate explanations as to why a 5-year-old is holding a briefcase impulsively begin swimming in your head and if you're anything like me, you never ask for the truth at the risk of reality not meeting expectations (or at the risk of unintentionally quoting a dated-but classic, nevertheless- Ludacris song).

This reflexive practice is on overdrive in New York City, not only due to the sheer amount of people, but the amount of people that are doing (or wearing) things that rightfully deserve a second glance.

Take these two characters for example.

While this guy looks cool, calm, etc. he is actually convinced that the bunnies on his ears are the voices in his head. Without them he would be nothing and he hasn't taken them off in 15 years.

This girl was a plain Jane just last year until she came to a spiritual awakening and realized she is not a 20-something named Jane, but a 55-year-old man who needs his money back. least, according to the inside of my brain, these are their stories. 

Or they may be weirdos like the rest of us, just a tad more fly.

Sunday, 1 February 2015

Southern Living- Buenos Aires edition

Life brought me down to the Deep South recently. Past the breakfast tacos of Austin and the pillared mansions of New Orleans. All the way down to Buenos Aires, Argentina. It was my first time in the continent, let alone the city, so my fishtail was flappin all over that dry land.

While it's possible that the city had to restock their wine supply after I left, I did manage to do a few things in addition to consuming my body weight in that delicious dark red. I was eventually able to order "un cafe con leche y tres medialunas" from the incredibly patient baristo around the corner, I became borderline addicted to mate, and I learned (the hard way) that it is impossible to go to a morning farmer's market when Fernet was on the menu the night before.

All very important accomplishments for a wannabe Argentinian.

The other part of life that I attempted to grasp while aggressively people-watching from behind my knock-off Ray-Bans, was Buenos Aires fashion. I fantasized about the South American cliches of long multi-colored skirts and billowy linen tops before arriving, but all of that was quickly contradicted by the mod pencil skirts, gigantic earrings, and flatforms intimidating enough to make even Baby Spice cry for her pacifier.

While the street style, as shown below, varied in some aspects (cheetah print vs. all denim everything), the sky-high platforms stayed consistent.


Consistent to the point where I began to wonder if B.A. was living in the 90s or if the decade of boy bands and grunge rock is back and the rest of the world is just slow on the come-up...

I was also lucky enough to find myself at an Argentinian wedding. There was none of the Forever 21 dress/ nude heel combos we all cling to in the States. No, everyone at this wedding was dressed to the Nines in the Weirdo-chicest ways possible. 

Here are a couple of the top picks-

While you all wipe the salivation from the corners of your lips, I will be dusting off my Walkman and digging up my first Britney CD. 

Speaking of Britney..and denim, thank this Pop power couple for bringing this look to the masses and thank the masses for never letting it die:

Thursday, 27 November 2014

People, Places, and Things

There is humor in the contrast on the streets of New York City between humans and non-humans.

The garbage, the rats, the pigeons, the discarded lycee peels on Broadway--- they could care less about how their internal beings are expressed on the exterior. They will reek and scamper and shit and make me slip and ruin my last pair of stockings to their hearts' content.

The humans of Manhattan, on the other hand (at least those that shower fairly regularly and pay rent on occasion), seem to be on constant alert of how the world, humans and non-humans alike, are viewing them.

This work of art for example, could easily have found a sensible pea coat at The Gap and grabbed the first pair of equestrian boots she ran across in Midtown, mimicking the care-free nature of the stray cats wandering the sidewalks of Bushwick, but no. She instead chose to defy normalcy and channel Missy Elliott's garbage bag days to illustrate her soul to the masses.

The discarded metro card that's stuck to your shiny loafer might not give a damn, but I see you girl. And you're lookin Supa Dupa Fly.