the thunder, perfect mind

I have adored this brilliant short film based on the gnostic poem Thunder, Perfect Mind, since I first read a making-of it article in my (still to this day) most cherished issue of Paris Vogue……. way back in April 05.

I love the construction of each scene. The hard urban background of Berlin, a beguiling girl and a blend of soft drumming and hard sax make it all look so alluring. But what got me hooked was the clothing.It is nothing short of inspirational.

Perfectly coiffed and eccentrically beat-nik.

I love the variations of femininity. In one scene, Daria is swirling around the floor of a dance hall with strangers, then changing in the back of a cab and the next, reading shyly in the subway station. There is no limitations to what can be defined as daring or sexy or calculated. The contradictions in the clothing, the scenes, the prose, so intriguing to me.

Thunder Perfect Mind - a Prada Film starring Daria Werbowy from M G on Vimeo.

i'm still an animal

Do you have those people in your life that you may only see once in a while, but their energy just stays with you and keeps you happy/loving/motivated for days after? Well, I do. You can call him C.C. Percocet, and one dose of him is all you need for days.

I was extremely fortunate to get together with Mr. C.C recently for an impromtu collaboration of two creative minds that would otherwise be two crazy minds, if it wasn’t for the opportunity to hang, combine forces and go nuts like we did this past weekend. 

You can now start referring to him as Urban Mowgli.

I change shapes just to hide just to hide in this place but I’m still, I’m still an animal

Model & Photographed by: C.C. Trubiak

Styling & MUA: moi xx

teller

Juergen Teller is pretty much awesome. I love his aesthetic, his use of rumpled hotel beds and he’s completely hilarious.

His raw, candid and over-exposed style defnitely influenced an era of photographers - as well as branded Marc Jacobs ads with a cheeky sort of coolness.

There is a great article about Teller in New York magazine, which you can read here.

warlike

For the last 36 hours I have been hibernating in a nest I’ve made with all the pillows and sheets on my bed, battling some version of the flu.

I have been wearing my robe, Big Lebowski-style, like a uniform and I can positively say, it doesn’t look like it will be coming off any time soon. I have been in and out of sleep, mostly just shutting my eyes and pretending, while trying to convince the whirling of my brain to stop and my body to feel better.

I have some truths dizzying up my mind that I just can’t shake and I am hoping by spitting them out right now, I can finally find some solid ground and I can get some rest.

1. I’m awful at goodbyes and I don’t think this will ever change. 

2. I think about my grandma everyday and feel regretful everyday that I was the one that stopped our writing correspondence.

3. I don’t feel guilty for owning over 50 pairs of shoes and no toaster

4. This summer I’ve met someone, my little destructo twin, who might be the one person who I have the purest and most honest relationship with 

5. I am going through a sad, sad case of writer’s block and I feel debilitated by it

6. If you catch me laying outside, in my neighborhood, in the middle of the night, I may laugh it off or pretend to be drunk or silly, but really I am not drunk or laughing. I need the world to put me in my place sometimes and I don’t want you to think I’m nuts.

As Frank O’Hara most eloquently wrote:

Now I am quietly waiting for

the catastroph of my personality

to seem beautiful again,

and interesting and modern…

Here’s hoping this gesture of exposure clears my head and makes sleep attainable.

Ok, well, signing out from the nest for today. 

x

the birdcage

Hate birds, love birdcages. Empty antique ones preferably. Just look past the caged bird and canary in a coal mine associations and they are just so darn pretty.

x

This photo was taken a few days ago after some very overdue face time with my dear friend Lindsay Ralph. We caught up, exchanged summer stories and hatched a few plans over pho and lemon ice sodas. 


Fortunately, we just missed the rain and were able to capture this slick looking picture while avoiding nearly getting hit by traffic and taking rides from strangers.


Lindsay is a crazy-good local photographer, who’s maniacal love of vintage finds and photography is constantly inspiring to me. Check her work out here!
x

weather permitting

What a lovely lovely weekend.

Stocked up on vintage light-as-a-feather silk blouses, munched on scones and apple jam at The Manx, re-watched one of my favorite romantic movies, Broken English with my partner in crime and celebrated the upcoming union of two of my best friends in their garden with their family, friends and something called an Avi-Zen-tini that granted everyone who sipped it a license to thrill, sorta speak. 

Ladies never kiss and tell so I think I may leave it at that.

Sigh! Now back to the ol’ Monday grind.

dress:club monaco   army jacket:vintage   shoes:nine west

x

up.to.date

Just arrived home from a whirlwind trip to Toronto and back where The Black Keys were on repeat, the back patio of Sweaty Betty’s became a haven, we drown in sparkling and mojitos at the Drake Hotel and enough butter-soaked frog legs were devoured at Tati to fill a pond, Needless to say, it was a lovely, hazy and very much deserved trip. 

More updates to come!

dress:kensie   shoes:aldo   bag:zara   necklace:gravity pope

take a deep breath

Mervecan Saral

Jill Willcot and Michela Heim

Yann Orhan

Christina Borthwell

Gilles Krivich

walk the line

To me, this shirt is the closest thing to being the Cadillac of striped, nautical shirts- boat neck, soft and rich form-fitting cotton, cropped sleeves, uber comfortable. Ah yes! A classic.

shirt:club monaco   shorts:lucky brand   clutch:vintage   boots:spring