strapping punishment: gettin’ guitarded
Guitar isn’t just for dudes trying to get laid. It’s also for chicks who lay said dudes! Kidding. Friends: Don’t be scared. I have no desire to leave on a jet plane or sing about the Carolinas. But I shall ROCK, get behind some totally greasy blues or pluck campfire tears in my beer, updated to snugly hug the contours of my life. I don’t think anything rhymes with vodka. Satin in my manhattan? Kismet in my gimlet?
It only made sense to begin with I Walk the Line. Check out JC in ‘56.
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Then I moved on to the Animals.
A few days ago I realized I needed a strap of one’s own.
Right away I landed on a snakeskin model.
Too much? Perhaps.
I like this simple flower one.
The flowers are mod style, not the I-have-stinky-sex kind of flower pattern.
Though it’s rad that it’s homemade, stuff like the strap below just seems so over the top to me, like the girls who knit iPod cozies or pretend to like football. It’s just trying to hard. It’s cute, though, minus the feathers.
This almost violates my no-accessories-that-feature-pictures-of-other-accessories rule (like a purse with pictures of shoes on it), which also somehow goes for things with pictures of the thing that they are on itself (I don’t date Bukowski dudes, either) but it skims right under the wire–it’s NOT a strap, but a “car seat strap cover.” I want to be the person who plans for that kind of thing, but I’m not and I know I have to learn to love myself anyway.
For that, we have Rainbow Teardrops guitar strap.
It feels very anti-depressive living, you know?
Is irony still ironic? I hope so! I also hope someone covers Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” with “Nascar.” My first cover? Or as people who sing mostly covers like to say, interpretation?
I’m thinking old school. These belt-strap hybrids have a sexy kind of rated R feeling for some reason, like if you let Dickey Betts touch it and then feel TERRIBLE about it, then do it again.
Along the way, I discovered there’s a dark side to Etsy. I’m no Clapton fan–that chapter of the book that ran in Vanity Fair was absurd–but damn.
How cool is the tie-strap? I’m thinking this is my direction.
I also like the crochet one. Right now my collarbone hurts from slamming into a car door with handcuffs on so I the softies are appealing, so we’ll revisit when I heal and learn a third song (I don’t think the Sweet Home Alabama riff counts as a song).
Meanwhile, behold:
stay hungry: best break-up makeup
Months pass. Years, even. The endorphins that let you stay up til dawn doing it like mad monkeys recede. Charming and disarming sinks into same and lame. The harsh rays of the morning sun reveal pores and undereye bags and armpit dandruff.
Quittin’ time. But as we all learned in my favorite episode of Family Ties when Alex P. Keaton is standing bereft by the punch bowl as Billy Vera and the Beaters croon “At this Moment” (it’s OUR “Unchained Melody”) while his TV-girlfriend-later-real-life-wife Ellen walked away, it’s never easy.
If you aren’t moved by this song, y’all are C-O-L-D, even if there is a dangerously Kenny G-ish part.
Special guest make-up maniac Jaime W. (different Jaime W!) is here to guide us through those times when the strings swell and there’s no one around to take you on a break-up bender to hunt for a seXXXy new mistake. Nothing cures the break-up blues like some molly followed up with a game of Twister. True story.
Must. Look. Fierce.
JW’s recommendations:
Mascara
The best waterproof mascara is Blinc Kiss Me Mascara. Although not my top favorite for fake-lash volume and length, Kiss Me is better than waterproof mascara in times of crisis!
The website explains that Kiss Me ”form(s) tiny water-resistant “tubes” around your lashes rather than painting them like conventional mascaras. Once applied, the tubes bind to your lashes and cannot run, smudge, clump, or flake, even if you cry or rub your eyes.”
The best part? At the end of the day you can literally wipe them away with warm water. No need to scrub or use a heavy makeup remover. Hit Sephora.
Fuck-You Red Lips
Trust me, there is a red for everyone! If you have big or tiny lips, try a sheer red gloss or lipstick. If you are fair or cool toned go for a blue-based red. If you are warmer toned, so for something deeper.
My F.U. Red is available online but not in Philadelphia (that I know of): Julie Hewett Femme Noir.
First of all, the shade stays put. It’s a highly pigmented cool red that grabs attention: perfect for when you run into your ex and he’s with the chick you ALWAYS KNEW he’d hook up with the moment you broke up with him, thereby delaying the break-up.
Take the take the quiz on her website to find out which red is pefect for you.
Lastly, my most important weapon in the world of makeup:
Undereye Concealer
I have tried them all! My current favorite is without a doubt Benefit’s Erase Paste.
I have a firm belief that the old wives’ tale of going one shade lighter on your concealer is a disaster. My blue, baggy undereyes have told me that lighter concealers make undereyes look grey. Go for a peachy shade that matches your skin.
The negative? Erase Paste only comes in 3 shades, but I find the lightest shade to match my paper-white skin beautifully. If you feel limited at all by the shades, absolutely check out Bobbi Brown’s Correctors and Concealers.
It doesn’t matter if you’re self-medicating to get through the break-up, as long as you don’t LOOK like you are.
Bonus: Because somehow the break-up moment is not on youtube, defaulting to the episode when Alex pops pills and misses his exam. Love “very special episodes.”
“Drugs! These are drugs! And I have them illegally!”
Glamour School: Mirror, Mirror
If you’ve endured any of this summer’s box office hits, you’ve probably seen a trailer for Mirrors, Kiefer Sutherland’s upcoming exploration of the sinister world through the looking glass.
The trailer features some requisite hair-raising elements: creepy children’s laughter, the phrase “I want to play,” and horribly disfigured faces gazing back at you from above the bathroom sink. Thing is, this is way mirrors used to be ALL THE TIME; they were so rare as to be considered magical artifacts, capable of showing everything from your future husband to Bloody Mary (the slumber party jury is still out on that one).
(Ed note: This is my stripper anthem!)
It is only thanks to the wonders of mass production that we can now gaze lovingly at our reflection without fear of ghost or ghoul. Unless, of course, you are “a troubled ex-cop who must save his family from an unspeakable evil that is using mirrors as a gateway into their home.”
The mirror is typically the last gestational stage of an outfit, after which it bursts fully formed from your womb/room. Anyone who cares enough to actually complain about these things (hand raised) knows the frustration of living WITHOUT a full-length mirror in the home: standing on the toilet seat to check shoe-skirt coordination in the medicine cabinet, puzzling at the blurry colors reflected by kitchen chrome.
Even for those fancy enough to own a big and accurate mirror, however, the impulse to look is never satisfied. Reflections can change with every glance, thus leading to constant and unending rubbernecking in front of display windows, shiny marble fronts, and the glass-heavy Rolex store at 17th and Walnut. While some people have it worse than others–enlisting spoons and doorknobs to their shiny OCD army, for example–it’s still difficult to go an entire day without seeing yourself reflected at least once.
Not so for Narcissus, who having never seen his own face or finished that unit about water’s refractive properties, fell in love with himself quite by accident. This is completely understandable, as glass mirrors weren’t manufactured until around the first century. It took about a millennia longer for someone to hazard a guess on how the things worked, anyway. In his eleventh-century Book of Optics, Ibn al-Haytham (who competes with Aristotle on a
Google search for “the first scientist” but wins because he’s featured on currency) proposed that “Every visible object that is not a direct light source is a kind of mirror” – which seems about right since, barring the Sun, people will check their teeth for spinach in pretty much any surface at hand. Without reliable access to Wikipedia, however, most peasants didn’t hear about this, or other advances in optics that ushered in the telescope, microscope, and oh, basically the entire Renaissance.
Instead, they thought about mirrors as they had for centuries: a tool of the occult, used for fortune-telling, ritual and trapping the eternal soul, not a trifle in which to magnify one’s pores.
Fast forward 800 primp-free years and we find Justus von Liebig, father of fertilizer, patenting a process to cheaply coat glass with a thin layer of silver. A few assembly lines later the things hit the market, and by 1900 affordable mirrors – full-length and hand-held – were widely available to the public. Through the twin technology of photography, a newly monied leisure class, and a few ads for face powder, collective fears that mirrors might reflect an evil spirit gave way to a general anxiety that the hag in the glass might just be you.
Upon casual reflection, I noticed that people got a lot more done back when we didn’t have full-length mirrors: inventing agriculture, memorizing epic poems, crafting the Constitution. And, contrary to what you might think after spending 20 minutes deciding between lacy pastel tops, they had totally bangin’ outfits too (witness the latest prairie dress revival). So the next time you find yourself bereft of mirror or spoon, embrace it as a vintage moment. Your resulting look may become the stuff of legend.
Ed note: I feel this way a lot.
Glo.Bug, awesome un-crotchety crochet
Bright as a summer day and refreshingly airy, Gloria Joan Haag’s Glo.Bug line of crocheted gear is what’s up. The wild color collection includes one-of-a-kind mini dresses, skirts, vests, striped hot pants, gauntlets and legwear.
“I don’t work from patterns,” says Glo, rapidly crocheting an orange headband to finish off a model’s ensemble.
A native of Ambler, she just returned to Philadelphia after earning a master’s degree in art education at the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque.
Glo’s choice of materials and colors in her work has always been influenced by place.
“I spent some time camping in the desert in New Mexico, and I had a ball of twine, and used only found objects,” she says, displaying photos of a number of crocheted sculptures. The exhausted, desaturated tones of the desert infuse these pieces. Their contrast to the Candyland palette of her current workroom is remarkable.
“I got to Chicago and went through a white phase right away, and then the color came. I went from the desert to this urban environment and started looking at graffiti all the time.”
Glo is democratic in her range of artistic inspirations.
“Vinyl toys, graffiti, skateboards…. The suspended work of Eva Hesse.”
Friend and model Theresa suggests catching a sunset skating session at South Philadelphia’s FDR Park after the photo shoot and launching a business giving skateboarding lessons. Apparently mini-dresses aren’t for gym rats only.
Though fanciful, the dresses are feminine without being sickly, and quite controlled by perfect needlework. Glo recommends American Apparel foundation garments under the more transparent creations, such as the silver lame tube dress used to provide dimension and opacity under the pictured frocks. The open-work fishnet dress is pure next-level as a bikini cover-up.
Commission a bespoke piece from Glo.Bug in any color or style. The pieces in the photos are available for sale, hit her up at Glo.Bug@comcast.net.
Pix and story by Felicia.
Betty Bourbon’s P.O.P.E. Mural
The Pub on Passyunk East went old-school in the girls’ bathroom department. Not like lye-and-a-hole old-school, but like 6th grade Tiger Beat style: pictures of Matt Dillon, the Coreys (I was a Feldman girl, I admit, Haim struck my 11-year-old hormones as too wimpy) and notes about boys and wanting to touch it.
South Philly’s Betty Bourbon plastered up the pages with shellac and glitter. Will it cause couple fights like the porn wallpaper at Sugar Mom’s? Probably not.
When I retire to open my bar in Philly, I’m going to wallpaper it with blow-ups from the Big Book of Penises (NSFW, depending where you work). It’s from Taschen, so it’s ART.
Style Pro Phile: Pearl Bell
“I’ve always had a desire for decorating and home wares. I started playing around with incorporating my drawing and painting onto plates. They’re all my own drawings. The graphics have a lot of texture and color.”
“The lines are sometimes a little bit hard and edgy, but I try to have a lot of softness and emotion in the eyes. A lot of women loved it because they could find a certain something in the women that they could relate to.”
“Custom orders are taking off, because people want to see someone they know, and how I would interpret a grandmother or their friend. On the website you can upload pictures, choose the colors and be able to create the plate yourself.”
“I have this passion, this passion for fashion, I guess. I just love pattern and color and texture and all different types of people, how faces are laid out and how people choose to dress themselves.”
“I try to draw my interpretation of a strong beautiful woman in many different ways.”
Jewelry by Alexander Calder is Fierce
Alexander Calder is one of the best-known creators of mobiles, stabiles and sculptures of the Modern era. On July 12, his work in handmade jewelry arrives at the Philadelphia Museum of Art’s new Perelman Building. More than 300 pieces of handmade jewelry will be on display including necklaces, brooches, bracelets, earrings and tiaras, in silver, gold and brass.
Abstractions of stylized designs like Celtic knots, swirls, leaves and fishes appear on the hand-hammered metal adornments. Calder’s jewelry reflected his interest in found objects, which also appear in his mobiles and sculptures.
The artist designed hundreds of pieces for his wife Louisa James Calder, as well as the art glitterati of the day such Georgia O’Keefe, Peggy Guggenheim, and the wives of Joan Miro, Marcel Duchamp and Marc Chagall. Dramatic as they were, these statement-making items were lightweight and meant to move with the body, as his mobiles moved in the wind.
The non-precious pieces were intended to be affordable for the everyday woman. An average necklace was priced at $25 during the 1940s. Alexander S.C. Rower, chairman and director of the Calder Foundation, (as well as the artist’s grandson) is quoted in an excellent TC Palm article on the exhibit.
It’s said fans would hold Tupperware parties for his jewelry! Better than those awful sex-toy parties, right?
Efficient, democratic and thoroughly modern, Alexander Calder is our kind of guy. The collection moves on to the Metropolitan Museum of Art November 3, 2008.
Details:
Calder Jewelry
July 12-November 2, 2008
Exhibition Gallery, Perelman Building
Fairmount & Pennsylvania Avenues
Philadelphia PA, 19130
Perelman Building Hours
Tuesday through Sunday: 10 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Admission
Adults: $7
Seniors (ages 62 & over): $6
Students (with valid ID): $5
Children: ages 13-18: $5
Ages 12& under: Free
Sundays: Pay what you wish all day
Alison Dilworth’s Cinderblock Party
It’s no secret I have this thing for Day of the Dead and Mexican folk art.
It’s an open secret that I also have a thing for Ali Dilworth, an artist living in South Philly. She’s one of those full-time artist people, always painting or writing or building human-sized old-lady puppets or pasting into books.
So when I went to a party at her house last year I FREAKED at the mural she painted across the cinderblocks that line her little South Philly backyard.
Dilworth’s last mural was the ancient-flowery-feministy bathroom piece in Sassafras in the OC. You can see pix of that mural and other projects on Alison’s website.
Alison reports she’s currently finishing up a top-secret bathroom mural to be revealed shortly. She’s mum on where. Sticks & Stones? Stogie Joe’s? She ain’t saying. A pro!
Meanwhile, SoPhi’s Betty Bourbon just finished up a collage mural in the P.O.P.E.’s bathroom. We’ll post pix of that soon, since you may not notice it the first time in the darkling throes of last call and it totally uses pictures of naked Burt Reynolds and his reclining, hirsute glory.
More pix of the Day of the Dead mural:
Bonus points to anyone who can point out who the people are in the painting–all Philly artists. Metaphorical meta? My head’s caving in.
Where’s Alison? Hint: there’s a thunder rolling.
Felicia’s in the Kiss Army
The unseasonable heat wave that rolled over Philadelphia early in June reminded us why we give up on glamour every summer.
Paring away all but the necessities of beauty requires that the remaining elements stand on their own. By now you’ve gotten a smidge of sun, nothing too Brooke Hogan, and all you need is a quick eyelash curl, a coat of mascara, and the perfect SPF-infused lip color.
Cosmetics superstore Sephora has rounded up a selection of lippies that won’t let you get torched. The best of the bunch have soothing botanicals like aloe vera and mango butter to keep your kisser soft, and SPFs of 15 or greater to shield you from aging UVA rays and burning UVBs. All-around covetable Vincent Longo Lip Stain Lipstick SPF 15 ($23) comes in twelve colors with intriguing names, like Americana (rose red) and Foolish Virgin (begonia pink) that light up bare summer skin. The sheer, stained texture is fresher than a shimmery or frosted finish.
Stila SPF 20 Shine Lip Color ($22) delivers eight prototypically wearable Stila sheer colors with loads of antioxidants and vitamins A, C, and E. Pick up a Keren or Talia nude shade for the pale lip look of the moment. Perfect for girls with naturally deeper skin tones.
If you’re more of a pot-head, dip into Benefit Cosmetics Benetint Lip Balm ($20) for a been-eating-local-strawberries stain. The moisturizing berry gloss is whipped up from Benefit’s secret rose petal formula and has a SPF of 15.
Korres Mango Butter Lipstick SPF 10 ($18) is advertised as being made from all-natural ingredients, but the unpronounceable ethylmethyls on the ingredient list reminds me that even a carcinogenic organic chemical compound like Benzene is technically “naturally occurring” (in crude oil!). Anyway, this “holistic” lipstick contains mango butter for moisture and comes in twelve summery shades, suitable for sunbathing on the sidewalk.
Also, Daryl Hall is our official collective boyfriend of the day, because he called John Oates a German Shepherd in Chuhuahua’s pants and that shit’s hilarious (he was referring to J.O. and the ladies).
Thursday is the new Wednesday.
So it’s a tardy launch! As long as it’s not re-tardy, we’re cool with it.
Sometimes, in this mixed-up crazy online world, there’re thoughts that keep running smack into the side of our skulls because it requires either knowing crazy tech things or nitpicky legal things or knowing someone who knows crazy tech or legal things (who we adore, we adore you, believe, we’d kiss you if we could but that’d be weird).
Anyway! We’re just getting started here but there’s stuff to dig into already. Check out the Shopping Guide, which is in the toddler stage and we will watch grow into the most all-inclusive real-deal shopping guide to Philly known to humankind. A selection of shops and stores around the city (and eventually online-only designers and shops, too) that flash the Philly flavor while acknowledging our collective dirty big-box not-so-secret jaunts out for brilliantly branded generic hand soap and the like.
So far we have started up a directory for boutiques, chain stores, makeup, shoes, jewelry, thrift stores, housewares, places for renovating materials and fabric for crafty types. Next week we’ll get it up for the $tore$ around town for Kelly Taylor types.
Aside: All-time favorite KT moment:
Jaime’s here for her interior design expertise. Don’t tell Brian how much she spent. Michele is a super-dedicated thrifter. Felicia’s all over the place and wants to put her superficiality to productive use. Maori has been clocking this type of thing professionally forever. Y’all know Caralyn. Anne’s like our little professor, judging appearances from on high.
We’ll have guests over and House Tours and Block Parties and all that, but we have to get the place together first.
Send tips, events and poorly structured insults to stylephilephilly@gmail.com.
Have a good day and remember I’m a lover, not a hater. And I think I’m falling in love with you. Seriously.
Also: HUGE SHOUTS to Sara Green for designing the logo and Katie Henry of MadebyHank for the bitchin’ embroidery.
tara