March 14, 2012
Remind me not to make assumptions.
It’s been over a year since we last spoke and I fell off the list and I took it personal. But I was wrong. But how right I was to put myself out there and reconnect because in doing so I remembered just why I love Boogie.
I feel like I might write a little novella right about now. Or compose a sonnet. But then, I imagine him rolling his eyes and shaking those eyebrows and a smile spreads across my face. You know how lucky I am to have made two books with one of the greatest photographers working today.
I’ve been enjoying memories of the times we spent making It’s All Good and Belgrade Belongs to Me. Umm wait. Hold up. It’s All Good is out of print? I didn’t know. It’s $300 on Amazon! Ohmagosh. Boogie! I am so proud. I am glowing. I am…
Okay, here’s the thing. Boogie pitched It’s All Good but it went to the wrong person. No one replied. His work went ignored, if you can believe that. Then, funny style, Tim Barber made the introduction years later. And I fell off my chair. For real. My ass hit the floor. He started sending me photographs. And that was the very first time I can remember feeling high, so high. Looking at photo after photo with adrenalin shooting through my veins.
The cover of the It’s All Good hung over my bed for years. It always made me feel warm and protected. Cause I never noticed the gun. Just the love.
March 6, 2012
All good writing is swimming under water and holding your breath.
Whenever you feel like criticising anyone,
just remember that all the people in this world
haven’t had the advantages that you’ve had.
Writers aren’t exactly people…
they’re a whole lot of people trying to be one person.
Art by Erte
Quotes by Scott Fitzgerald
March 1, 2012
February 29, 2012
There are no good girls gone wrong — just bad girls found out.
A dame that knows the ropes isn’t likely to get tied up.
Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before.
I’m no model lady. A model’s just an imitation of the real thing.
Those who are easily shocked should be shocked more often.
You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.
Quotes by Mae West
Photographs by Mariel Clayton
February 29, 2012
I feel all kindsa special getting email from GHOST. Like, you know, I am in touch with powers of the other world. Powers of art and style and unbridled New York energies. Of true talent and skills that go beyond this thing called graff. I mean, he had that, but now he’s got this. A gift. A rare ability to transition from the wall to the canvas. Because he isn’t doing that thing. You know the one. With the tags. Indoors. Neutered. Tamed. Captured. Zoo animals.
Nahh. That ain’t him. He ain’t that kinda guy. He’s something else. Something special. Something that leaves the name where it belongs. The name is free, ain’t no money. Can’t be bought, can’t be sold. It is illegal and beautiful and a big old fuck you to the world and that’s what makes me smile. But man can’t live on throw ups and tags and pieces alone. Man gotta do his thing, man gotta grow.
He’s doing his thing on canvas and it is blowing my mind. If you’re out in Helsinki, check out his show at Make Your Mark Gallery opening April 6. And if you can’t make it, just feast your eyes on this ..
February 29, 2012
February 24, 2012
My childhood is filled with images long gone. Images of pastels and sunsets and chiffon. Images of baby’s breath and flowers behind the ear, of flowing dresses and stacked heels. Of men in white suits and women in color, of dances that held hands, dips, and spins. Of romance, exciting and new. Of cruises and discos and fantasies, too.
Saturday Night Fever, Dance Fever, Solid Gold, The Love Boat, and, of course, Fantasy Island. These forever informed my aesthetic. Diana Vreeland may have never said these words but I attribute them to her because I imagine I read them in her memoirs. It was something to the effect that what we see in the first five years of our life forever defines our style and I was a child of the Seventies, loving every moment of it.
It was a time before crack, a time before AIDS, a time before computers, a time before all of this. Can it be that it was all so simple then? Perhaps because I was young. It was a time before the darkness and nightmares would come. It was a time when anything was possible, and so it was. And I, born to some great reward, knew all of this.
My earliest memories are of walking across our black and white tile kitchen floor with a dishrag draped around my neck like it was a mink stole. I walked up and down, back and forth. I bet I would have walked on tippy toe if I knew such a thing were possible.
Back then I didn’t watch TV. But I went to the movies and there I saw things that I believed were real. By the time I had a TV, I was convinced. There was no such thing as fiction. It was all reportage. And so it is that I watched shows like Fantasy Island believing in the possibility that dreams could come true, understanding at the same time that one had to be careful of what they wish for. For what we imagine in our hearts will heal our soul may actually be the thing to bring about our downfall.
I know this now, three decades later, but knowledge and fantasies are not bedfellows. I mediate between what I have learned and what I wish, finding the space in between them that is me—and no one else.
Heels were my life, until they were not. And then they were replaced with Nikes and Timbs. But in the past year, the heels have made a return, because no longer do I need to be on the run. No longer is comfort my priority. I have returned to my world, my fantasy. A world where there is no rush, nor hurry. There is only this day and what I want it to be.
And in this day, I have the ultimate luxury. I have time. All the time I need. And with this time, I take care to spend it wisely. I spend it on the things that make me feel happy. And one of those things is beauty. Beauty comes from within, and finds manifest outside. For how I appear is how I feel, and when I am in heels I feel on top of the world.
There is something about those extra four inches that changes everything. My energy comes alive, my body slows down. Walking is no longer a matter of getting from one place to another. It is simply a matter of being alive. For in each step I know exactly where I am. I am not lost in thought or fictions of the mind. I am here and now and radiating this immediacy that is so very intimate I notice the heads spin.
All of my life I have attracted attention. When I was young, and angry, I changed its energy. I made it a bad thing and everyone responded in kind. And even when they meant well, I threw up a wall and this made them angry, because they were denied. But as the wall has come down, I have allowed myself to connect. It is not my fault that they are interested. It is simply who I am, and how I be, and I know this. In a city of eight million, I draw notice.
And the heels, they change everything. They change my relationship to the ground, and to all that is upon it. And so it is with great pleasure that I introduce the spring 2012 Rocket Dog collection, inspired by one of the greatest shows of all time, Fantasy Island.
February 21, 2012
Marc Jacobs and Robert Duffy have a passion for books, so much so that in the age of digital reproduction they opened two bookstores, aptly titled Bookmarc in New York and Los Angeles, in 2010. The shops are boutiques in the best sense of the word, highly curated affairs featuring a deft mix of merchandise. Art and illustrated books sit side by side with a carefully crafted selection of literary titles include biographies, fiction, poetry, and cultural critiques. Interspersed throughout are charming gift items and tote bags produced exclusively by Marc Jacobs. The result is one that elevates the experience of book shopping into something more fun and fabulous than the dreary monotony of the Barnes & Noble supermarket-style experience. Bookmarc is for gourmands who know exactly what they want…
February 16, 2012
February 15, 2012
I might be a shoe addict. It’s the fabrics and the fit. Today I was up and down town in those winter flannel houndstooth numbers. How lovely it is. All tall and skinny is cute. I had gotten a lil too used to Nikes for awhile. It feels good to be up in pumps, to be dashing around town. Everything with legwarmers and it’s a loong leg. Marilyn Monroe said something about all women owing the creator of high heels a debt of gratitude and I agree. It’s like you’re a different person, all swishy, when you are wearing heels. Everything changes when you start with your walk.
Snoop Doggy Dogg
no, wait, wrong Dog.
I’m talkin bout dem shoes, ya dig
February 12, 2012
Mrs. Danvers: [as the second Mrs. de Winter runs into the room]
I watched you go down just as I watched her a year ago.
Even in the same dress you couldn’t compare.
Me: You knew it! You knew that she wore it,
and yet you deliberately suggested I wear it.
Why do you hate me?
What have I done to you that you should ever hate me so?
Mrs. Danvers: You tried to take her place. You let him marry you.
I’ve seen his face – his eyes. They’re the same as those first weeks after she died.
I used to listen to him, walking up and down, up and down, all night long,
night after night, thinking of her, suffering torture because he lost her!
Me: [turning away in shame and shock]
I don’t want to know, I don’t want to know!
Mrs. Danvers: [moving towards her]
You thought you could be Mrs. de Winter, live in her house, walk in her steps,
take the things that were hers! But she’s too strong for you.
You can’t fight her – no one ever got the better of her. Never, never.
She was beaten in the end, but it wasn’t a man, it wasn’t a woman. It was the sea!
Me: [collapsing in tears on the bed] Oh, stop it! Stop it! Oh, stop it!
Mrs. Danvers: [opening the shutters] You’re overwrought, madam.
I’ve opened a window for you. A little air will do you good.
[as the I get up and walks toward the window]
Mrs. Danvers: Why don’t you go? Why don’t you leave Manderley?
He doesn’t need you… he’s got his memories.
He doesn’t love you, he wants to be alone again with her. You’ve nothing to stay for.
You’ve nothing to live for really, have you?
[softly, almost hypnotically]
Look down there. It’s easy, isn’t it?
Why don’t you? Why don’t you? Go on. Go on. Don’t be afraid…
February 12, 2012
“Where we goin”
He say “We here. You never heard of the freedom tunnels?”
I heard of the Freedom Tunnels but I ain’t never been. & it’s November. Cold. Leaves are falling and changing but mainly falling. And it’s cold but nice and the sun is out (oh it’s beautiful) and it’s cold and nice and the sun is out and it’s nice (Oh so nice).
We in the freedom tunnels. I’m thinkin Harriet Tubman but the freedom found here ain’t no run up north shit, cuz its 1995 & slavery is everywhere, it’s some homeless freedom. I see a community of homeless. Yea freedom tunnels, whatever. Ain’t no such thing as free. Look at Pane, he’s 16, you can’t escape that shit. Ain’t so such thing as free.
Like I said we in the freedom tunnels & I’m seeing mad graf. ***** been here I never thought would be. Little graf kids.
I wish I brought more paint. There is so much to hit. So much to do. So much to see. & it’s November. Cold. Leaves are falling and changing but mainly falling. And it’s cold but nice and the sun is out (oh it’s beautiful) and it’s cold and nice and the sun is out and it’s nice (Oh so nice).
& Pane he roll that next one & we get high but since we here in the freedom tunnels we get High & High & High. & Pane, he paint, & I paint, & Wooooo. High. Hoemless. Paint. & birthdays. Weed & paint & climbing.
I like this, This is good. I like No beef, No school, No worries. I like weed & paint & water is right next to us. & homeless are funny. I like no television & I like what television won’t show. I like ghetto, but underground ghetto. I like this, I even like the hour long train ride. It goes by quick & it’s so fun. I’m a little kid. I like being a little kid.
We paint & climb & somehow end up at Carnegie Hall & you know Carnegie Hall is beautiful & today is beautiful & I dream that one day I could live by Carnegie Hall. I like today. Cause it’s November. Cold. Leaves are falling and changing but mainly falling and it’s cold but nice. and the sun is out (oh it’s beautiful) and it’s cold and nice and the sun is out and it’s nice (Oh so nice).
Excerpt from Nov York by Dumar Brown
Images of the Freedom Tunnel