Aw, yes, design and process. To see someone at work would bring out the voyeur in anyone, yes? We want to be privy to the pause, the scribbles, the marginalia, the smoking of the cigarette, the pinning of the drawing, the gazing out into space. And now you can witness it.
Gareth Pugh will be designing a one-of-a kind garment at SHOWstudio Shop in the Mayfair/Bruton Place store on Nov 20, 23rd and 24th. This is closed to the public, but being filmed via webcam: Visit www.showstudio.com/project/livestudio
The final garment will be held for sale on Nov 24th.
!bonne weekend!
paintings-series: Christa Palazzolo
. D a u l K i m .
* r i p *
It’s back!
*
Was asked to be the nyc music/fashion correspondent for an Asian newspaper. All due to a dear editor friend of mine (thanx babe!).
No specific details as of yet, but will be interviewing bands that are in/visiting nyc and upcoming designers and I suppose anything else that catches my fancy. When it gets a bit more firm, I will let you know… If you are looking for exposure, contact me here on this site (see my About Brklyngirl section).
*
I love letters. I love hearing news about friends from afar. I love the part where she says skulls were very, very in in 1500). 1500 was a very morbid year. ha! I thought this was amusing. :)
*
hey sweetheart,
this is going to be a quickie but here it is: London was awesome. however, i was only in london itself for like a day. basically i went to sarah in surrey (doesn’t that have a ring?) and stayed at her GORGEOUS cottage which has a duck pond. the ducks are let out of their coop in the morning and they waddle like mad for the water like they’re never going to get there again in their lives. hilarious. oh, except for the old 17 year old duck. she’s a slowie. but well, her old bones and all that.
so we walked around this town called guilford (charming!) and shopped and ate at jamie oliver’s italian restaurant there (handmade pasta – amazing). sarah tried to make me drink but i refused. shopping while drunk = terrible purchases. i really didn’t have enough time with sarah, so i’ve promised that the next trip will be longer (i’m planning for may).
so after that, i met up with j and we took a budget flight to carcassonne, in the south of france. oh my god it was beautiful. the light is like nothing else. we were surrounded by vineyards and his old friend pippa lives in this remote village. we hung out, drank wine, ate cheese and loaves of baguettes, played with the dogs, and went to feed pippa’s sister’s horses (the baby one licked my hand softly). i was covered in dog hair which i HATE but loved every minute of it.
THEN it was back to the UK and off to j’s mother’s place, where we stayed for 3 days. she lives in the english equivalent of florida, which meant that by the end of that trip, i was really wanting to see people my age. but i did get to see the town where j mis-spent a lot of his youth, and we walked around the old church (built circa 1500 if i am remembering rightly) and among the old graves (skulls were very very in at the time for the headstones).
then we sped back to london itself where i met sarah again for shopping and drinks. we celebrated j’s 40th birthday in a pub with his mom and brother and friends, and then it was back home the next day!
that is A LOT for like 9 days. and basically on the last day, i remembered what it is like to be in a place that has pants and shoes in my size. i likey. so next time around, i really want to go see some museums and shop a bit more. i know, i am a maniac. i bought these amazing pants that cost like 160 pounds but they are gorge. black, jeany legging-like things, and workplace-appropriate. london has the best fashion, really.
anyway those are the tales of the city. i am planning for may 10 – 31 next time around! tell me you’re coming too…
xxx,
rabbit-killah ( i made this name up for you! hearts!) may 10th, yes indeed. i want to see those ducks….
*
When Hades decided he loved this girl
he built for her a duplicate of earth,
everything the same, down to the meadow,
but with a bed added.
Everything the same, including sunlight,
because it would be hard on a young girl
to go so quickly from bright light to utter darkness
Gradually, he thought, he’d introduce the night,
first as the shadows of fluttering leaves.
Then moon, then stars. Then no moon, no stars.
Let Persephone get used to it slowly.
In the end, he thought, she’d find it comforting.
A replica of earth
except there was love here.
Doesn’t everyone want love?
He waited many years,
building a world, watching
Persephone in the meadow.
Persephone, a smeller, a taster.
If you have one appetite, he thought,
you have them all.
Doesn’t everyone want to feel in the night
the beloved body, compass, polestar,
to hear the quiet breathing that says
I am alive, that means also
you are alive, because you hear me,
you are here with me. And when one turns,
the other turns–
That’s what he felt, the lord of darkness,
looking at the world he had
constructed for Persephone. It never crossed his mind
that there’d be no more smelling here,
certainly no more eating.
Guilt? Terror? The fear of love?
These things he couldn’t imagine;
no lover ever imagines them.
He dreams, he wonders what to call this place.
First he thinks: The New Hell. Then: The Garden.
In the end, he decides to name it
Persephone’s Girlhood.
A soft light rising above the level meadow,
behind the bed. He takes her in his arms.
He wants to say I love you, nothing can hurt you
but he thinks
this is a lie, so he says in the end
you’re dead, nothing can hurt you
which seems to him
a more promising beginning, more true.
1: Oh, the Soft Pack, you say?
2: They sound like the Strokes.
1: Yeah, well, I like this vid.
2: He reminds me of Andy Kaufman.
1: And the part where the trees just kind of rip back and forth is so boss.
i just said boss *snicker*
*
All things which are soft become soft.
The rain, who has a father,
the rain and the father are soft.
Their hour has come
to subduce the alluvial plain,
sloe eyes, black feathers and all.
They turn everything soft.
Up here, without support, the totality
of light is frightening.
Its lunge exceeds the enemy’s,
its appetite the cannibal’s.
Why can’t eternity
be where they were, back in the chain,
the pull for the worm,
scrape with the carnivore,
the feeling of constant attraction forever?
Not this airy regularity.
Not this luminous branchlessness.
There is nothing to study.
The anxiety reaches a pitch.
All these birds without birdness,
way too free to sing, give in.
One lone voice chokes on its obstinance–
I’m human, I’m human, I know that I know.
- Larissa Szporluk
| * |
