Oh how I've missed you so

Just like honey

Skeleton me: It's about to get hot, take solace in September

I know I said I like to try and stay present, zen-like, about fashion. It's almost summer, let's stay in the moment. Let's be here now. Let's dream of what we'll wear when we seep out in the wicked humidity to grab an italian ice, rather than pine for next season's lovables. But then I saw Burberry Prorsum's fall 2009 line and decided I could skip right over all of that.
As far as I can tell this autumn is going to be a total hunk. Prince-charming style. Burberry has got the white floaty dresses like our dear Isabel Marant, but paired with grey tights, clunky boots, and chunky knit scarves that keep warm what the lightweight frocks cannot. Oh fall, when I'm not frozen into a wardrobe-rut or baking into a melted mess, how I love thee. As much as I enjoy the haze of summer, I thrive in the crispness of the later parts of the year. Throwing on extra layers and getting that "all tucked in" feeling just does it for the northern Californian in me. (Sigh)
But back to today, back to Brooklyn: If you're looking for summer shoes, Marais USA (see below) has got some adorable suede and/or patent flats, sandals and heels in poppy summer colors. Though I'm a fall girl through and through, I just ordered myself a pair in an attempt to keep my feet on the ground. Seasonally, anyway.

Head in the clouds

In my dreams...

...the summer looks and feels like this- and it goes on and on and on, without ever getting too hot or too humid or too anything.
"Most days I wish I was a British pound coin instead of an African girl. Everyone would be pleased to see me coming. Maybe I would visit with you for the weekend and then suddenly, because I am fickle like that, I would visit with the man from the corner shop instead-- but you would not be sad because you would be eating a cinnamon bun, or drinking a cold coca-cola from the can, and you would never think of me again. We would be happy, like lovers who met on holiday and forgot each other's names."

Why the long face?

I Heart Bill Cunningham

Fine. I'll admit it. I watch the audio slide show "On the Street with Bill Cunningham" first thing every Sunday morning. I've been timid about sharing this bit of information because I've been afraid that in doing so I might inadvertently reveal a great secret of mine; one that only a few in my inner circle know. You see, on Sundays, when I open the New York Times (be it in print or online) I skip right over World News and Arts and read: the Style section..... First.
And one of the many reasons I do this is because I have grown to just plain love Bill Cunningham. I adore him as if he were my super fashion-savvy, Reebok-wearing, couture-loving grandfather. Not only do I admire the way he zips through the city streets on what seems to be a super sleek Dutch bicycle (not pictured here), or the way he always has his camera on hand, ready to capture people in their most stylish (or interesting/awful) get-ups. There's more to it than that. What makes me a true fan of Mr. Cunningham is the sincere enthusiasm (bordering on childlike wonder) that he has for his most simple observations. When he notices a whole slew of upper east side women starting to wear coats in November (because it's cold), or that ice and slush are forming puddles and snowbanks curbside in January (because they do) and that this is causing pedestrians to have to (gasp!) step over them, he reports these facts as though they were the most cutting-edge, thought provoking perceptions one could make. In today's piece he reported on skirts with "swooshy flair" for a full three minutes, and then ended by encouraging his viewers to indulge in a skirt that's "a bit sassy, sagacious, and that will maybe cause a little comment", while laughing sweetly all the while. From the sound of him, Mr. Cunningham seems to see the world through new eyes, with a playfulness that makes even the most obvious, the most dull, or the most obsolete trend seem like a delight to observe and ponder. And despite being highly regarded by the highest in high fashion, I have read that he is very down to earth. He seems to enjoy fashion without getting too caught-up in it or taking it too seriously. He just peddles his bicycle around town, happily capturing his wonderment snap shots. This all adds up to him coming across as someone who truly, and lightheartedly, loves what he does. With his sincerity and instinctual whimsicality, my coffee cup and I just keep coming back for more each Sunday morning. First thing.

Little Bee

"In a few breaths' time I will speak some sad words to you. But you must hear them the same way we have agreed to see scars now. Sad words are just another beauty. A sad story means, this storyteller is alive. The next thing you know, something fine will happen to her, something marvelous, and then she will turn around and smile."

-C. Cleave, Little Bee

Photograph for today

Les Chansons D'Amour

Take a drizzly Parisian background, a young, quintessentially beautiful french couple (Louis Garrel and Ludivine Sagnier), create a love triangle that manages to be both steamy and blase all at once, throw in a dialogue expressed almost entirely in song, and there you have it: either the worst movie you will ever see, or you new super-favorite. I loved it of course, but I'm hopeless when it comes to blue love stories, bizarre plot twists, beautiful art direction, and so on. And, of course, anything in the tradition of The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (Jaques Demy; 1968) is guaranteed to win over a certain breed of film lover. Me? Hopeless, I tell you. Absolutely hopeless. But I encourage you to have a look for yourself and then tell me, or sing me, what you think.

One sugar or two?

Keep me in mind

We could talk about Jean Arp, we could talk about David Shrigley, and surely we could sing the praises of Henry Darger all night long, but why not discuss a lesser-known artist? How about someone fantastic and unique and not quite so lime-lit? How about the lovely work of Donald Mitchell? (See above.)
It was through Creative Growth (an art center in Oakland, Ca. dedicated to providing top-notch materials, instruction, and exhibition/promotion opportunities to artists with disabilities) that I first learned of Mr. Mitchell. I don't know much about him personally, but from what I understand Mitchell's work has made a profound change over the years. His early pieces at CG consisted primarily of what his mentors and critics refer to as "obsessively crosshatched fields of lines". These lines would cover the entire page in a stressed, chaotic fashion and hide any trace of underlying images from the inquisitive observer. Perhaps there was a secret picture beneath the picture? A story within a story? Then, several years ago, Mr. Mitchell started to bring to light the faces and forms that he had buried beneath the lines on the page, and when he did he revealed curious figures that, to me, are a wonderful representation of dark and light, playfulness and tension. They are oddly sweet, like something that might hang in a nursery, but they also feel like they express an intriguing social commentary: a world of similar figures all stacked on top of each other, with each thinking "Hey- you're on my head". Now, after all these years, his trademark has become what his proponents call "a tightly composed, graphically sophisticated page of crowded figures". I find them enchanting up close, beautiful from afar, and his process definitely worth contemplating. No longer on the lesser-known list, Mitchell exhibited his work in 2007 at Gavin Brown’s enterprise, New York, and ABCD, Paris. I remain a devout fan of Donald Mitchell for the hidden treasure of his artistry, and of Creative Growth for their dedication to encouraging and supporting the arts for all.

Mine That Bird

Dreamy, dreamy

I know, I know- The runway shows are always a season ahead. And I, too, love to look forward to the nubby scarves and ankle boots of autumns to come, but not when it's 83 degrees outside. There's something about admiring spring lines in the spring that makes me much happier. It also seems to make a bit more sense, non? So who better to start off my list of this season's lovables than the star of urban chic, Isabel Marant. This collection is, as all her collections are, a seamless dream come true. Floating lacy tops, short-short-short shorts, and silky slip-style dresses (with a little something extra) are all pretty much...well, perfect- without being too soft. My favorite places to indulge in these delicacies? On the west coast it's Nida in Hayes Valley, and in my neck of the woods (Brooklyn) it's all about Bird.

Photograph for today

We could make such beautiful music together

"The couple that prays together, stays together." To each their own when it comes to that particular platitude. Perhaps the old adage should be "the couple that sings together, stays together," or at very least they produce some wildly successful "hymns" in the sphere of pop music. This type of symbiosis is obviously not a new concept in the art world. Even without popular music being the area of one's expertise, most can rattle off the names of at least a few lovebirds who have crooned together quite memorably. Looking back just at the sensations that were John and Yoko, Gainsbourg and Birkin, and Cash and Carter lends one to believe there is a certain magic in the collaboration of two highly talented and romantically entwined artists.

It should come as no surprise that this tradition continues with lesser-known indie bands such as Little Joy, The Bowerbirds and The Rosebuds, who have all recently  emerged and serenaded us with their creative chemistry. Collaborating creatively with one's better half may just be one of the best old ideas musicians have had. Be the artists lovers or just dear friends, working together appears to be a very simple and key ingredient in creating some of the most lovable music our time. Musicians and sweethearts, take note.

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