Rihanna for River Island Launch Party @ Opening Ceremony

After hours at work.

Hello again

Left this alone for months and now I'm shocked stiff upon seeing Blogspot's new CMS layout. It took a couple of clicks to finally land on the post page, but apparently I could have saved myself some minutes by noticing the glowing orange pencil icon on the main page. The old geezer syndrome applies to all ages when it comes to progress in technology. Sigh.

New place (but still in Brooklyn), some steady jobs here and there, still checking out shows, and always picking up the gigs to keep me busy.

You can find me here:

And here:

And still working on shoots:

Premiere issue of Nero Homme, cover photo/editorial styled by Gemma Slack. Assistant styling by yours truly.

Or lining up for free Plan B in a Vice article.

Or taking shameless selfies at the Top of the Standard.

Very soon, R.

My testimonies turn products into cash money. Unfortunately I didn't think of getting a pair for myself before OC sold out. Loser points for me.

Despise you - scored at Dude Fest 2008, during which the band blew the crowd to bits. Pretty bummed over missing this year's.
Divisions - Florida hardcore band with a mixture of that lo-fi, sludgy power-violence flavor. Got this shirt when they played the Legion of Doom in Columbus... I'd say almost 2 years ago? My ex may have gotten this for me, that I also don't remember.

What's in a shirt? For one, a statement of interest. Two, a back story of ex-lovers, memorable events, acts of charity, and phasing taste and style.

After reading Lesley Arfin's breakdown of her seemingly depth defying sea of shirts, posted on the Opening Ceremony blog, I cracked open my closet to sift through my own. Few have withstand time since their high school premiere, some have cumulated the stench and stains of crusties and near collapsing venues, and many were defeated by New York City's summer scorch 2010 as they morphed into cropped tanks.

My shirt collection is exclusive to music tees. They're generally more attractive than your standard graphic tee, seem to have more meaning than a shirt that screams designer names (an odd exception to the Rodarte/"Radarte" shirts, for reasons even I can't explain), and versatile in wear. Music tees in particular remind me of music (duh), which then triggers my mind to drop a tune or two, which then triggers memory to reference these tunes to the faces and places I've encountered.

... The point I'm trying to get across is that my collection of band tees is very personal to me. Like music is to many, I see these shirts as fossils of my life's past.


Rusko - Limited edition shirt. Don't usually purchase shirts of the dance genre (as much as I LOVE them), but I couldn't pass this up.
Mad Decent - From summer's Mad Decent block party. VIP access, free beer, and that different sort of sweat one exerts from dancing. The cut of this shirt is perfect for my next invasion on the dancefloor. I need to thanks Jasper for those good times. Also reminds me of the break dancing grandma I wrote about for Styleite.


Hombrinus Dudes - PC Michigan grindcore. Haven't listened to this band in ages, but I do remember their advice on shopping for apples at the farmers' market. June 2006 at the 666 Fest, and Skeletonwitch played as Motorhead.
Scholastic Deth - one of the first few shirts I bought in high school (that mattered). Purchased at Badskulls.com and they may still be on sale. Was obsessed with this band for the longest time and dove into Bay Area hardcore because of SD.
Goat Horn - Thanks to my friend Kevin, "Rotten Roll" was the anthem to my senior year of high school. I later interviewed Jason Decay, the man, the myth, the legend, for ACRN and scored this shirt after asking whether there were still some available. Got the last one in XL white; transformed it into a cropped tank.


Slayer - Recent grab. It was a hand-me-down from my friend Kent. One of the many perks of having guy friends with similar taste is that you fit into their shirts when they no longer can. My collection grows.
Tragedy - a Portland transplant from Memphis, Tragedy is a worshiper of Japanese d-beat. Saw them with my ex when they came to Cleveland on a Monday night. Remember feeling dead the next day. I remember that this show attracted a lot of the clean-cut crusties with freshly bleached hair and covered in oddly fresh crust patches. Masakari played this night and look at where they are now.
Gauze - a semi-recent grab from eBay. Apparently purchased around the same time my best friend/radio show co-host purchased her Gauze shirt. "Crash the Pose" is Absolute Catastrophe's anthem and I'll never forget that.
Katharsis - also a semi-recent grab from eBay. One of my to favs because the shirt is just so sick. It'll remind me how much I enjoy "\/\/orld\/\/ithoutEnd." I've widened the collar and gave the bottom an asymmetrical drape so now it pretty much has a butt flap. Oh well, it looks great with tights and cigarette jeans.

"And so, every fourth Thursday in November, American families sit down at a large table brimming with tasty dishes, and, for the only time during the year, eat better than the French do." -- Art Buchwald, "Explaining Thanksgiving Day to the French"

If you can't guess from this massive post void, I have been a very busy girl.

On Monday, November 22, I turned in my final paper for column writing class, which profiled the life and work of a Washington Post and former Herald-Tribune columnist, the late Art Buchwald. It was a treat to end the quarter writing a paper on a very fascinating and funny columnist who's career hay-day spanned from his expatriate, Parisian life in the '50s to Nixon's resignation. Out of all the books I've read so far, "Paris after Dark" and "Getting High in Government Circles" contain his best columns. For those who enjoy the tasteful cynicism of David Sedaris works, Buchwald's commentary on current events and human absurdities would be your cup of tea.

That paper sealed off a quarter that I don't believe was my best. I'm still venting out all the exhaustion and stress incurred from the past three months. On the bright side, it's the future I'm looking forward to - including a fantastic internship throughout the month of December, long-awaited reunion with some NYC denizens, and braving the last two quarters (plus one summer session) of my last year in college... that cannot come any sooner.

Starting December 2nd, I will be spending my month in New York City for a styling internship with, hold your breath, Opening Ceremony. Prior to my chat with Daria last week, I was certain that I wasn't going to get a spot due my short-term availability and my journalism-heavy background. But hey, I expressed my deep interest in styling, especially for a company/brand that has been completely inspiring through their artistic and fun approach to luxury retail.

I'm looking forward to flexing out my styling capabilities and working with the wonderful and youthful team behind OC. To help stretch my dollars to their max potential, my friend Jess and her man roommates have offered to house me in their Brooklyn loft for no cost whatsoever. (I'm in debt to her offer, so I'll be pitching in on groceries, domestic work, and maybe a housewarming gift or two.) I've been talking to some friends in the city who are looking forward to my arrival, I've been mapping out what I'm doing on the first day and destination spots I'll venture to before my departure, and I'm saving my night of clubbing and gay bar hopping for when Branka arrives to the city for a few days. But hey, I'll do that with anyone, any day - saving Netflix nights.

For all this, I deplete what weighs me down and lift my spirits up with opportunities I've scored and those who have helped me along the way. Here's to being thankful for it all. Yes, I had to wrap this entry up with a seasonal twist.

I currently have a food baby sloshing in my tummy as a result of a bread and cheese heavy meal. My single-self spent Thanksgiving at the Sormazs, my best friend's family, who treated me to Serbian delectables and Turkish coffee. We all gave a hand at reading fortunes from our coffee post-sipping, but none of us are experts at interpreting ground blots. Mine sketched out what looked like the movie poster for The Notebook. One could only hope.

PS, still unsure as to what direction this blog should take. More fashion? More music? Fashion and music? Daily dumps in the toilet? Eavesdropping daily?

Image source.