About-Face, ladies!

A little more than 6 months ago I stumbled across a fabulous organization called About-Face. Their goal is to change the way females see themselves, to call out the companies that portray women and girls as objects, and to teach the world that females are as diverse and fabulous as males and should be treated as equals and I think that is fantastic.
I have a slew of charities that I select from and donate to each month and today in my mailbox I found a handwritten note from Evelyn Kim who thanked me for last week's donation and told me of her work with About-Face. It was such a nice surprise and it totally made my day. Go on and check out their site and see for yourself because what they are doing is monumentally important.

(this is the pin i bought from about-face's shop that is stuck on my army hat. i love it.)

Vintage Princess

I love this picture of Princess de La Coiffure on Kelly Drive in Philly back in the Autumn of 2004. She is more uniquely beautiful than I have room to describe on this humble little blog. But you, dear reader, can see that for yourself.

Parisian Story Time

Last night I got a rare opportunity to sit and chat with my brother Wayne. He told me of the time that he and his Dad went to Amsterdam, Paris, and London together. It should be stated that Wayne is the epitome of The Nice Guy, so that in this city that people claim hates Americans, Wayne's experience was completely the opposite of most tourists. I believe it's because he's tall and respectful and kind and who doesn't appreciate that?

Anyway, so Wayne and his father were wondering which bus would take them to Notre Dame Cathedral. A tiny old lady was walking past and Wayne asked, "Excuse me, ma'am, would you happen to know if this is the bus for Notre Dame?" The woman, who Wayne now discovered was rather intoxicated asked if they were Americans and when he told her yes, she broke out into a huge grin and exclaimed, "I LOVE Americans! You save us from the Germans when I was a child in the war and ever since then I have loved Americans. I (as she dramatically waves her arm above her head like Lady Liberty) will take you to Notre Dame myself! It's the least I can do for two Americans." Wayne didn't have the heart to tell her that neither he nor his father had anything to do with rescuing the French from the Germans.

And so this woman put them on the bus, sat next to them, talked of her childhood, then walked them around Notre Dame, pointing out its history and literally giving them the grand tour. Once inside, she sat with them, asked about their lives, and said a prayer for them both. As she walked with them outside and posed for photos with each of them, Wayne pulled his dad aside and said that they really should ask her to dinner with them tonight as a thank you for all her efforts. He of course agreed and as they turned back to ask her, she had vanished. Wayne said that they stood there in stunned amazement and questioned, "Did that all just really happen??"
(I asked if when they developed the photographs was it a picture of his father with his arm wrapped around an invisible figure, like James Stewart in Harvey. It wasn't, though.)

Far Away

In the mid 90s I was corresponding with a slew of people from all over the world. Russia, Ireland, England, Italy, Germany, Holland, the South, the Midwest, Canada, Jamaica, and Africa. The photo above is of Mekonnen (lounging and sipping) and his brother in Addis Abeba. Although we no longer exchange letters, I still look at this picture from time to time and so wish to visit that gorgeous continent.

Nights & Weekends

"Do you ever wonder how, like, what story you're gonna be in someone else's life? Do you ever think about that? What's going to be your soundbite for the next person?"

Isn't that fascinating? It really made me stop and wonder about the people I've known and those who are no longer a part of my life. What do they say about me to their friends? Who from my past still speaks of me and what stories am I included in? It's somewhat frustrating, isn't it though, the fact that I will never know the anwer.

Inviting....

Karen has opened her pool for the season and I just wanna sit on the edge, dip my feet in, and read a Jacqueline Susann novel.

Hangin' with Melis

After a delightful late night dinner at a local pub, Melissa and I headed back to her place in Cwood. I have always cherished the times when us two gals get together and have mind-expanding, inspirational 4-hour long conversations. It's been what feels like ages since we've had time together, but tonight we sat in the cool night air beneath the brilliant moonlight on a dark porch and for close to two hours we engaged in wonderful conversation, enjoyed several cigarettes and listened to the windchimes while watching Murphy the Cat patrol the neighbourhood.

Edwin Smith

In 1998 I went into the bathroom next to the office at my new job. I flicked on the light and looked up to find this photograph hanging on the wall. The frame's glass broke leaving only the frame and it's print but I begged them to sell it to me. They did and it has hung in every home I've lived in since then.
It reminds me of a Smiths song: dismal, beautiful, comforting and incredibly melancholy. Thanks to As the Clever Crow Flies, I found this picture of the photograph and discovered that Edwin Smith has a collection of his work available in print. Yay! I'm off to Amazon!

Vintage Nike Advert

A woman is often measured by things she cannot control. She is measured by the way her body curves or doesn't curve, by where she is flat or straight or round. She is measured by 36-24-36 and inches and ages and numbers, by all the outside things that don't ever add up to who she is on the inside. And so if a woman be measured by the things she can control, by who she is and who she is trying to become. Because as every woman knows, measurements are only statistics. And statistics lie.

Ball the Wall

"It's a Sin to miss The Dark Forest." Those are the words that begin the tenth broadcast of my favourite radio programme. Prior to the Pet Shop Boys' sassy opening tune was Thurl Ravenscroft voicing an advert for Chung King from 1966. From that point on, I knew this broadcast was going to kick ass and kick ass it did with tracks from The Bhundu Boys (of Zimbabwe), The Dead Kennedys, Wayne Newton, Kate Bush (a Rickster Rick fave), and The The.
Especially featured was Depeche Mode with several live songs, the best of which was Halo. Chit chat and random jibber jabber was threaded throughout the show and the recent Penguin Awards was the evening's hot topic. There was even a performance by nominee Hem with their cover of Johnny Cash & June Carter-Cash's Jackson.
As is always the case with The Dark Forest, it was a delight from start to finish. Rickster Rick keeps spinnin' those albums and keepin' us waiting for more!

10

The Shoebox

In his home, under his grownup bed, there is a Buster Brown shoe box. Open the lid and one will discover a well loved brown teddy bear. The fur on its left ear is worn down completely and the navy blue button that acts as its left eye is held on by but a thread. There are postcards with airplanes, two buttons with anchors and dog tags from his childhood pet that say Jack London. Dig beyond the postcards and find random keys, an old Crayola crayon (Cadet Blue), a tack pin of a mushroom, plastic dinosaurs, and Hot Rod stickers. A lock of blonde hair tied with a small violet ribbon lays beside a picture of his mother laughing, leading me to believe it is a lock of her hair. At the very bottom of the shoe box is a page torn from a baby name book with Dominique circled, a wrist tag from a hospital's nursery, and a photograph of Chicago that is dated August 1937.

Beauty on the Second Count

And here is the youngest of those two beautiful girls in my life.

Diane Arbus IV

Four People at a Gallery Opening, NYC 1968

This motley crew comes off as hoity toity and oo-la-la as they appear to schmooze it up at a fancy schmancy gallery showing. What makes this photograph odd is there is no sign of art. The wall sockets make this visit with high society seem sad and slightly pathetic thus making this blue collared gal chuckle. I guess a trip to the Upper West side isn't all that after all.
(I must confess that I find the lady of this photo to be a real stunner. That gown is a fabulous as her hair, makeup, and baubles.)

OMG I want this so bad....

Saw this over on Renegade Handmade and I really, really want it!! The designer is What Party? and I feel like we would make kick ass BFFs.

(Whatever, they're just jealous of her awesome scrunchies.)

One of Two Beauties

There are two girls in my life whose beauty is unparalleled. The eldest is pictured above, decked out in her senior prom gown and ready to step onto the cover of Italian Vogue.

When boys do the James Dean wink.

I was thirteen when I saw Rebel Without a Cause for the first time. From the opening scene of Jim with the toy chimp on the sidewalk, I knew I would love this film. At the time I was young and sad, unloveable and an outcast and it was easy to identify with Jim and Plato and even Judy. But my all time favourite scene was when Jim drops Judy off at home and he returns her mirror compact and gives that subtle wink goodbye. So fuckin' sexy.

(photo kidnapped from preciousbodilyfluids)

Kurt Vonnegut

Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.

Adam

Finally got around to seeing this and it was just as beautiful as I imagined it would be. I do so enjoy a unique love story.