Controversy & Decisions, Decisions...

"Tracey Be Brave" it says...


"Tracey" being the controversial feminist artist Tracey Emin who created this piece entitled Sleep. I was always frankly quite skeptical of Ms. Emin's work till catching an interview on the BBC with her just this evening, where I discovered that she comes across as surprisingly warm and intriguing... and since I can relate to the need for some unharried, unanxious shut-eye, not to mention a really good self-pep-talk... well, I should probably also give her work some due props for being relevant.

Sweet dreams.

London Fashion Aftermath

For those of you unimpressed by my "fashion" coverage of London Fashion Week, I bring to you a peace offering. And in this case, I have an affinity for the models that doesn't involve pity, not simply because they look like healthy functioning individuals, but also since one of them happens to be my sister Kasey (seen above).

This past weekend, post-facial, post-procrastination, and post- a-wee-bit-of-protest, Kasey helped our friend Bosaina (the 2nd) by posing in Ms. BII's inaugural collection for her label basbousa. Find the full photo spread here.

Probably because I'm much more of a music person than I am a clothes person, I'm particularly fond of the resulting video... this is set to a great tune (Johnny Thunder's version of a A Great Big Kiss), plus watching Kasey speed-walk in heels is oddly endearing and amusing. I've pasted it below.

P.S. - Just to make it perfectly clear, in the parting shot, Kasey is NOT naked... just wearing a corset that didn't quite make it into the frame. (And that comment totally made all the guys in the audience rush to click on the clip - didn't it?)

Enjoy!




London Fashion Week: Ummm... Some of the Models Look Like They're About to Cry....


So it's Fashion Week here in London, and now that Kasey's a veteran of the entire affair she's able smuggle me, pretty much the antithesis of a erudite fashionista, into LFW shows and events here and there. I think my fashion ignorance probably gives her a unique perspective on the entire scene - that fashion is not everyone's world, such that when people start whispering about the fact that some fashion celeb has just entered the room, I have to whisper back, "okay... but who IS he/she exactly?"

Our first show was 'off-schedule': Polycok & Walsh, Krystof Strozyna, and Emilio de la Morena (for those of you familiar with the Sundance Film Festival, "off-schedule" is sort of the equivalent of a film being shown as part of Slamdance). It was here that the young models seemed both ultra-nervous and ultra-skinny; like their fragile selves might fall apart under the weight of the clothes on their skeletal bodies or the emotional duress of having thousands of critical eyes peer at them as they tried to saunter gracefully down the catwalk. I was so concerned with the well-being of these poor creatures I could hardly pay attention to the new season's apparel offerings!

It got a little better after that. Our next show was on-schedule Peter Jensen, where we wandered around backstage for a bit before we finally managed to find ourselves escorted to front row seats (for the fashion uninitiated like me, the front row is exclusively for the elite - fashion editors, socialites, celebs and the like - not that either Kasey or I fall under this category, we just manage to have really good luck [and looks?]).

Today was another 'on-schedule' show, Issa, where the highlight was the fact that Naomi Campell made an appearance and confidently sashayed down the runway for the last look (shown above).

This was when I finally witnessed in-person what genuinely separates a supermodel from those girls who merely model clothes. She absolutely owned the runway - and you didn't mind it. I only managed this blurry photo, but wow... she IS fantastically beautiful, with enviable smooth skin, shiny hair, large eyes and mesmerizing cheekbones. (Check out the girl in the front row just beaming with admiration at seeing Naomi).


And what would a proper Fashion Week be if a person didn't manage invites to any of the parties?

This is Kasey and moi at Hannah Marshall's party at Bungalow 8....


... just touching up our makeup...

... before finally ending up here at the Feathers' party at The Wellington.

I may not be such a fashion person, but the party part of London Fashion Week, I can definitely do!

Choose Your Own... Commencement Speech




In elementary school I loved those books where you get to decide what the main character does at various junctures and, depending on your choices, the protagonist either ends up discovering Ali Baba's lost cave of forbidden jewels, or gets eaten by crocodiles. I'm sure at the time I thought it was all in good fun and pretty radical compared to "real" life, but I no longer think the analogy is so extreme; in my experience (although I suppose we'll never truly know) the different outcomes depending on what you do or don't do at the crossroads can actually be pretty deadly.

Right now I find that I am staring at yet another one of those infamous junctures (which I'm pretty notorious for arriving at in rapid succession) since in a couple months I'm scheduled to don that flowing robe and funny square hat with its signature tassel to lay claim to a diploma that will publicly declare my newly-anointed status as a post-graduate (a MBA specifically). In terms of sound direction dispensed at the ceremony, I have little hope that my university's commencement speech will offer much practical advice about what I should do next, or even rise to the level rousing, so few do (something that my sister's recent graduation ceremony in June only re-established in my mind).

But, you know, good graduation speeches do exist; ones that you can listen to, and act on, and believe in, especially when they are delivered by a person who has legitimate grounds for preaching to thousands of fresh-faced, eager, and dying-to-be somebodies. The commencement speech I've pasted below, delivered by Steve Job's at Stanford in 2005, is such an address.

It's funny, while graduation signifies the ending of school, commencement means "the time at which something is supposed to begin." Supposed to begin. Can't that be almost any point at all? So I think, no matter where you are in life, consider choosing this "commencement" speech as yours. Set aside a nice chunk of time (it's fifteen minutes long, but once it gets rolling, it won't seem so) settle in, and expect to hear at least one piece of advice from Mr. Jobs that applies directly to you and your situation right now. That's right. YOUR situation. Right NOW. Maybe it will even help prevent you from being eaten by crocodiles.

Enjoy!



Acknowledgment: Thanks to Rohit for bringing this YouTube clip to my attention.

Under Construction!

Well, my ceiling is covered with mold/mould (US/UK respectively) and possibly caving in, so I've shifted into my sister's flat while the bureacratic (read: slow, infuriating, and incompetent) Brits try to figure out just WHOSE problem it is to deal with:

Managing Agency to Landlord: It's YOUR problem.
Landlord to Builder: It's YOUR problem.
Builder to the flat occupant above me: Dude! Will you just STOP taking showers!

Ha! And you SO think I'm kidding. Ha! Not at all. Not a smidge.

But I digress.

I've been meaning to revamp the design of this blog, well... probably since I started it. However, just recently it's started to drive me batty each and every time I log in; I vowed once the dissertation was over it would be one of the first projects I tackled. And now it appears that both my flat and my blog will be under construction at the same time (that is, IF my flat does indeed undergo reconstruction... frankly, I'm actually more keen to just move out than having to deal with watching these wombats chase each other's tails around any longer...).

Yet, the situation is actually fairly fortuitous for the blog since my sister's flat has all manner of paints and scissors and things lying around with which a person may execute their creative visions. So bear with me; what you see now is just a hazy concept of what I plan will eventually be. (Though don't get TOO excited, my talents with markers and html really only extend so far).

Step Right Up Ladies & Gentlemen!

Here's a link to a video of The Feeling's latest single Join with Us. I like the song as much for its melody, which touches on being Beatlesque circa Magical Mystery Tour, as I do for the optimistic call-to-action lyrics and the resulting music video with its nods to Surrealism (the apropos parting shot is also a bonus - you'll see).

If you can't be bothered to look at the video, well, at least peruse the lyrics, which I've pasted below. Perhaps after reading them, you'll decide you can be bothered to watch the video.

Enjoy!


Join with Us
Half Past Eight
And you're late
Coffee's cold
What a state
They've dragged you down
Fate's got you scraped
Work to death
Can't you turn them words around

Is it really what you want?
Is it really what you need?
Is it really what you choose?

My, dear...?

Is it really what you want?
Is it really what you need?
Is it really what you choose?

The world is in your hands
The world is in your hands
The world belongs to those of us who still believe we can
And it matters what you do
Though they all look down on you
'Cause it's better that you've come from nothing,
Than nothing comes from you

Come with us
Come with us
Join with us
Join with us

Don't make a sound
Count your pennies
Count your pounds
There's no way out
What will you do,
When all love gives up on you?
Can't turn around

Is it really what you want?
Is it really what you need?
Is it really what you choose?

Uh oh

The world is in your hands
The world is in your hands
The world belongs to those of us who still believe we can
And it matters what you do
Though they all look down on you
'Cause it's better that you've come from nothing,
Than nothing comes from you

Come with us
Come with us
Join with us
Join with us

We've got a place and it's here for you
For all we ever wanted was a different view
I never knew somebody lived with so much pain
If you open your heart come with us and we'll take you away

Come with us
Come with us
Join with us
Join with us

- by The Feeling

And Then There Was None


Not the prettiest picture you've ever seen on this blog, but there it is - my dissertation. The symbol of everything that has consumed many of my days and nights and thoughts over the past months - printed up and ready to be turned in.

And I'm left thinking: That was it?

And: Now what?

Which is exactly the thing about such large projects... you develop tunnel vision, investing so much of yourself into one thing that when you finally exit, you kind of think... Now, what was it exactly that I did before?

So, that's where I am now. Freshly out of the tunnel... looking at the infinite horizon with its unexplored and uncharted possibilities.

My, it's bright out here. But hopefully not blinding.