Archive for January, 2013
- I believe I have not yet mentioned that The Breeders are doing an anniversary tour to commemorate Last Splash, which was released—believe it—twenty years ago in 1993. The first US date was just announced, with more to follow. (Pitchfork)
- As part of an ongoing attempt to protect the purity of their language, France has officially banned the word “hashtag.” Sometimes France cracks me right up. (Time)
- What 2001 looked like in 1967. (Smithsonian)
- The Office‘s very charming Ellie Kemper may have an NBC sitcom of her very own next season. Let’s do hope so. (Split Sider)
- And a few 30 Rock links, in honor of tonight’s series finale: “See, mother, not all species eat their young,” and other classic Jack Donaghy insults; the feminist academic legacy of Liz Lemon; the words and phrases it introduced into the vernacular, from “Blerg” to “EGOT” to “I want to go to there.” (Vulture, Daily Beast, Slate)
It is a testimony to just how much the elements have been bringing all of us down here in New York that when a friend referred to the weather outside today as “glorious,” I knew what she meant, even though the sun was nowhere to be found. It was just one of those days that usually don’t come along until February if you’re lucky; days that tease spring with balmy air and temperatures high enough that you can stuff your scarf and gloves in your bag and feel almost human again. My self-appointed duty this afternoon was to look for basic, long-sleeved black tees to replace my old ones, which are truly dead and busted. But instead, I decided to seek these out: striped tees that aren’t like all the other striped tees, and that you don’t have to wait until April to work into your wardrobe. Like this multistriped number from Madewell, which is made so chic by that unexpected drop shoulder.
Sometimes I feel I am a bit too hard on Isabel Marant. Yes, this red, white, and blue top is pricey, but it is so dead-on cool that I can hardly bear it.
I have been circling this R13 diagonal-striped tee for quite some time now. It’s the perfect example of a striped top that works all year round, and is soft as the day is long.
The particular pattern of these stripes feels so excellently Peter Brady.
Stripes and ethnic flourishes on the same top: almost too much to bear.
Part of me thinks these look like a very bad little boy went to town with a Sharpie on mommy’s best snake print shoes.
And part of me thinks they’re the kind of crazy that somehow, oddly, works. Thoughts?
This just may be the world’s most badass answer to the classic Tiffany bangle: a bracelet made from guns and bullet casings seized from Newark’s streets by the city’s police department. A portion of proceeds from all sales are helping fund gun buyback amnesty programs, so if you’re at all in favor of that kind of thing, you really have no choice but to buy one.
To be honest, I didn’t wind up doing a whole lot of shopping in San Francisco, which is probably why I’m only just now getting around to posting about it. Not that there’s any shortage of cute boutiques there, but it’s a city that’s less about the retail experience than the lifestyle experience, and all the you totally have tos in SF have to do with food: you totally have to go to Acme Bread and Cowgirl Creamery. And Tartine on Valencia. And if you miss out on espresso at Blue Bottle, you will have flunked San Francisco entirely.
My hotel fell under the heading of “Corporate Crunchy” (which I think may actually be a new hotel trend—a place I considered in Santa Monica offered both multiple conference rooms and preferential parking for hybrid vehicles). In addition to a lobby bursting with Suits, there were morning yoga classes, roof deck soaking tub treatments, and canned oxygen in the minibar. (I had to try the oxygen, of course: It was like inhaling a gust of very fresh, quite expensive wind.)
As for the shopping: I did manage to get in a stroll around Hayes Valley, which has lots of quite cool and charming stores, many of which are nicely indie in spirit. I loved Reliquary, a sort of NoCal version of Love Adorned (no surprise, given that owner Leah Bershad is an alum of its sister shop, New York Adorned). They don’t have e-commerce—boo!—but if a sophisticated ethnic aesthetic is at all up your alley, it’s a you totally have to. Also, I was very happy to visit Acrimony, a store whose commerce site I’ve browsed maybe a hundred times. It’s definitely the edgiest shop in the neighborhood, and it skews young, but there’s plenty for a girl who’s not especially excited by high-waisted short-shorts to like as well. And I see stuff there I don’t see in New York or LA or anywhere else.
But of all the stores in San Francisco, it’s the mini-chain Gimmee Shoes that I most wish existed in my town. There are two on Hayes Street, and I could spend more time in both than I care to admit.
As a general rule, San Francisco is more about practical footwear than spiky and strappy, and this sensibility is very much reflected at Gimmee Shoes. It makes sense, then, that there was a solid selection from the brilliant-and-slightly-batty Chie Mihara. If you’re looking for a deeply walkable heel and aren’t averse to a little drama, she’s your girl. I love this funkily dandified pair of Mary Janes, and actually think that by the time you paired them with black tights and a quiet-ish dress, they’d add a fun little punch to your outfit, and not—as one might fear—scream LOOK WHAT I DID TO MY FEET.
Possibly the cutest pair of short rain boots I’ve ever seen.
Gimmee Shoes is Fiorentini & Baker Central. Outside of the brand’s actual Soho store, I’ve never seen such a wide selection of their comfortable, tough-but-not-too-butch boots to choose from. Back in Texas, this is what we would refer to as s**t-kickers—albiet super-extra-chic ones.