Sunday Looks Like This
Kartell LCP Chaise Lounge aka Another Lucite Thing I Want
I never wanted to venture into the realm of design. Walked from my office through the Design District ignoring every window, usually on a mission to Marni or Tomas Maier. Didn’t even want to know about it. Had enough ADD when it comes to pretty things. Don’t really cook (at least I don’t throw away pots after I use them like someone I know), don’t really sit on my couch, don’t write at my desk. The concept of “apartment” or “house” was just this place where my closet, and bed, were located.
Well, one hungover Saturday rearranging furniture and that’s all gone to hell. I’m too young to start redecorating and far too young to even think about affording good taste in design, but I’m obsessed. Hopefully it’s just a phase. Like wedges or baby doll dresses or The Doors. I’ve already purchased bar stools and a coffee table and thrown away pretty much everything I moved in with, and am now writing this while sitting in a dangerously sparse apartment imagining what would be fabulous there…
Specifically this Kartell chaise.
-Isabel
Filed under: Musings
Inspiration:
Dreaming in Osaka
Celine Sunnies advert.
Mobile Uploads.
Marc Art
Cyanotypes. Used to do these in the summertime.
-Elliot
Filed under: Uncategorized
I bought these boots yesterday and don’t ever want to take them off. I’m actually wearing them around my apartment this morning with my Agent Provocateur Kiki Kimono (ha, gotcha) instead of my usual around-the-apartment footwear, which is nothing–it’s Miami.
My new shoes and I even went out with Elliot last night, the first time in the past three years I haven’t worn heels past 9 pm, and I only felt insecure about being a foot and a half shorter than him for just one drink. Then I felt great.
Find them at the All Saint’s store on Lincoln Road or click here to buy.
-Isabel
And if anyone feels sorry for me because I’m the only one without a Moooi pig table, it’s available at Hive Modern.
Look what Elliot just ordered. Some Alexander Wang x Linda Farrow Zip Sunglasses that’s what! I can’t wait to wear these puppies everywhere I go.
I hope Freja isn’t photographed in these, although she probably already has been, because then I will look like an idiot.
-Elliot
Filed under: Freja Beha Erichsen
So here we see Freja with Balenciaga boots, a crazy lil’ jacket top, a crushed-sateen type of fabric orange/pink curtain, and a taxidermy leopard.
In theory, this would be hard to look at. In proven science, it is almost orgasmic to look at. Freja is more ferocious than the dead leopard! I hope she never ages/stays the same/want to start a movement for maybe cryogenically freezing Freja.
Photo from Vogue Nippon – check out The Soho Riots for this and other select editorials from around the world. Pure eye candy, all day, every day.
-Elliot
I know it’s pretty much one big cliche to listen to this song, at this point in the continuum that is time and space, but I just love it.
But it’s okay if you don’t love it.
I tend to manifest situations and pictures in my head when I hear a song (although – watch the video – I don’t know what the director was picturing here…it’s kind of “Gaga meets another, less coherent level of WTFness”) and with this particular number I’m driving down the Pacific Coast Highway as the sun is just beginning to set, en route to LAX to board a flight to Charles de Gaulle (Paris, for those of you who don’t live in airports like Isabel and I).
You know that travel-day feeling of excitement, don’t you? I don’t really understand myself being in California though in this vision, as I do not live there and don’t often go there. Maybe it was Isabel’s dream car that got me thinking West…
-Elliot
Filed under: Faux Illustrative Purposes, Freja Beha Erichsen, Models, Versace
Karmen Pedaru: Feel like I wore these pants in the Balmain show. For the last couple Balmain shows actually. What the hay?!
Freja Beha Erichsen: If they shot “The Matrix” in Miami, this is what that girl would’ve worn, but I obviously will always look so much better in it than anyone ever will anyway. Look at my hair!
It is scientifically proven that Erichsen will indeed look better than anyone, ever, in anything she ever puts on.
-Elliot
Filed under: Art
Mixte Magazine, 2008
Meet Swedish photographer Sandra Freij. I came across some photographs she took for French fashion mag Mixte in 2008 and thought I’d share. Freij is known for taking romantic, feminine photos, often colored by subtle sensuality layered with an equally as subtle darkness; kinda perfect images to look at while lying in bed, up way to early, on a Saturday morning. Happy weekend.
-Isabel
Filed under: Rick Owens
I know I said I was pretty much over Rick Owens but then this outfit came along and I realized, maybe I’m not. Those are drop-crotch garbage bag shorts and a high quality leather “blouson” (as put by Aloha Rag) we’re talking about. Six hundred and sixty dollar garbage bag shorts are going to be all the rage as soon as the “economy” rebounds. I’m a gambling man, and this is an easy bet.
But how am I going to get 660 USD? Should I max out my student Visa and not even worry if I am destroying my already fragile credit/go crazy with my Centurion Card and buy these shorts and then four more pairs just because I think the salesperson is cute and want to up their commission a bit?
Stay tuned for comments on Rick Owen’s FW2010 show, which is sometime in the next week.
-Elliot
"Damn the Man. Save the Beatrice."
Last night, Isabel and I met over drinks to discuss why our most recent posts had gotten somewhat bitter and sour. I think it is just because Wednesdays and Thursdays are so morbidly depressing. I woke-up this morning determined to change my attitude and now my psyche has transgressed in to a kind of mild nostalgia. Like for the mid-2000′s.
I think this mental relapse in to my wild years stems from a statement t-shirt Isabel and I observed at LIV, located in the Fontainebleu Hotel Miami Beach.
Side note- “LIV” is the roman numeral for “54.” My friend’s Mom used to go to Studio 54 dressed in gold catsuits. Studio 54 was cool to a certain degree. LIV is unfortunately not. It is the anti-cool.
But getting back on track – Issy and I saw a certain well known Miami hipster figure wearing a “Save the Beatrice” t-shirt (“Paul gave it to me. He like, lives here”). This proclamation refers to a venue in New York City that was, for a time, insanely fun and seen as a kind of backlash to the models-popping-bottles kind of clubs that had reigned for years. Although there were always models at Beatrice Inn.
Point being – I do actually miss being excited and enthralled by nightlife. Speakeasies or bottle service clubs alike; it was so…well, fun. It was like a weird kind of enjoyable version of school. I miss walking down that double staircase at Marquee, pretending people were looking at me and thinking who the hell that fine sexy creature was. I miss Cain! Who doesn’t miss Cain? That place was so fun come to think of it. We always got some weird drink, I think it was called the Tanzania, and danced danced danced. I remember cutting my hand on those pillars that had the African beads wrapped around them.
Yet you and I and everything and everyone grow older every second, so no matter how many hipsters screen print calls-to-action on their shirts, there was no way to save the Beatrice Inn. Or Butter. Or Bungalow 8. Or LIV. There never was. Yet I’m grateful for the memories (or sometimes the lack thereof) from my time spent in these places. In a strange but very powerful way, nightlife forces you to grow up more quickly (think about it, I am not going to explain why). Growing up is necessary, and in my opinion, the sooner the better. I’m only 22 but Isabel thinks I have the soul of a 50 year old, which I am so totally OK with. So why not have fun doing it?
Anybody want to come over and throw on some Bob Sinclar, turn off the lights and pretend it’s 2006?
-Elliot
