Wednesday, September 20, 2006

look who should have been on project runway

Check out my creation at the above link. And don't forget to rate it!

Saturday, September 09, 2006

lol [on my] ass

I actually amaze myself at how I'm more-often-than-you-think caught off guard by the silly things marketed to people. A few days ago I got this small catalog of aerie (American Eagle's female underwear line). First of all, how the hell did American Eagle find me? I have only made one purchase there (for the world's most fabulous shirts that they do not make anymore, and more than a year later, only one is left unstained or unmarred in some way...sigh...). Today I finally opened the thing curious to see what it was all about. I flip through it and it feels eerily kiddie pornographic. These models do not look like they are over 18 but they are prancing around in tiny cotton underwear. Not that I would buy their stuff anyway, but the models aren't appealing to me (I don't have a dick, remember?).

I would have just recycled the thing and not said a damn thing if it weren't for the product on pages 31-32. It's too ridiculous to describe. You have to see it for yourself. Okay, day of the week underpants is kind of cute (if you're under ten), but why on earth would anyone want goofy internet lingo tattoo on their ass?

Friday, September 08, 2006

flw house rises from the grave

This is an interesting article. I think we all know that I'm obsessed with architecture. I also happen to like looking at Frank Lloyd Wright work (to the point that I bring guests to look, from the confines of a car, at the Ennis House, which is practically falling down).

I don't quite have my opinion fully articulated in my mind to convey to you the craziness going on in this story. Some looney bought an island, tore down an original FLW cottage, and has constructed a larger house based on FLW designs (incomplete construction drawings). He even got an architect and FLW "scholar" to help him finish it off. This guy can scream as much as he wants that it's a true FLW house ("his finest work," he claims), but we will always know it was posthumously created with incomplete drawings. He even thinks FLW would approve. I'm no expert on FLW, but I know enough to know that he's spinning in his grave. The man had a fit if you put up artwork in his house (he even purposely slanted the walls to prevent it) or brought in non-FLW furniture. You think he'd be clapping when you actually changed his designed and passed it off as an "authentic"? Dream on.

But this does bring up an interesting question. Is architecture like a painting that loses value when monkeyed with after the artist's death or like a piece of music to be improvised? Architectural historians cherish original construction drawings when studying buildings, but it never occurred to us to create unbuilt works, did it?

There are some 500 unbuilt FLW works floating out there. Oy vey.

Monday, September 04, 2006

the celebreality you won't see on vh1

No longer can we consider online dating for the pathetic people who are socially awkward, ugly, fat, or some other variation. I have it on very good authority that a very attractive actor who, on his rise to fame some years back (he's been a bit out of the limelight lately, but still hot), was compared to Johnny Depp. This hot man is using MySpace (yes, MySpace!) to date. If you look at his page it looks like something anyone could have set up with publicity photos and shots from films, but apparently a young woman decided to have faith in his message to her, responded back, and now has had a couple of dates with him. And at places I go like Arclight!

Dammit, would the creepy middle-aged men stop messaging me and the hot actors come on board. I know there's a certain big star in some hugely successful movies who likes girls my type.

How do I know all this? I live in L.A. I go to "parties" and talk to people who know these people.

But you know I don't really want the hot actors. I want the hot intellectuals. They don't even need to be hot. Glasses and stubble will do.