When I die I'd like three simple things:
1. To be buried in a quasi futuristic tuxedo like Klaus Nomi's.
2. To be buried in a glass bubble in a snowy, minimalist landscape a la Catherine Deneuve in Donkey Skin.
3. To have Amanda Lear perform "Follow Me" live:
Please go to Gawker and vote for my beloved Kari Ferrell, the hipster grifter, as Hipster of the Decade. Kari deserves to win. She is the hipste rto end all hipsters, and super glamorous to boot. This is important!
Also, I'm sad to say that I used to semi hang out with TWO of the people on this list in my wilder, more glamorous early twenties.
I have a genuine and well documented fear of or repulsion of super long hair. Ladies, don't get all upset or insecure. I mean really, really long hair. Past your butt long. Renaissance festival, Crystal Gale long.
I don't know why, but I feel really nervous when i see those flyaway hairs. It just looks unhealthy and weird and unclean to me. Do see them combing it is obscene and if I'm ever so unlucky that it touches me, I shudder. I have no idea where this comes from, but it's genuine and deeply embedded. (I also hate horse's tails, which seem similar, and touching any untreated wood. I never said I was rational or normal!)
That said, people will occasionally leave pictures like this on my Facebook or in my inbox:
And I think, "My friends are jerks!" and I laugh it off.
Then, today, The Boyfriend emails me a picture from his phone, subject, "Neigh!" I open it up and get this:
I'm glad it's braided and thus put away, sort of, but hurt that The Boyfriend hates me and is clearly not involved in this relationship.
Dear Women of New York,
How are you? Well, I hope. I know, right? I'm super busy too.
You look great though. Thank God you stopped wearing ponchos and Uggs, right? (You stopped wearing Uggs, RIGHT?)
Phew.
One quick thought... how about we all agree to put the kibosh on furry vests? I know, I know... Rachel Zoe told you to wear them, but Rachel Zoe says a lot of crazy things, despite having a really sexy assistant*. Besides, she said that, like, two years ago.
The thing is, the furry vests make you look like a crazy The Hills Have Eyes cave person, and not in a good way. You know which vests I'm talking about, right? I mean these ones:
I know you want to look like a powerful woman, but not so powerful that you fought a yeti and won though, right? Right.
Love you!
Best,
Me
P.S. Oh yeah. Stop tying string around your head too. Thanks again! See you at Whole Foods!
*Hi, Brad Goreski! I kind of have a boner for you!
That would be my answer if you asked me, "What did you buy while you were out this weekend?"
A few years ago I was known as quite the snappy dresser. Then, without getting too personal, my financial life came crumbling down and I had to worry about stupid, ugly things like eating. Things are getting slightly better, so I decided to treat myself to a pair of much needed boots and got two pair instead.
Exhibit A. These cute Florsheim boots.
Exhibit B. These Frye-esque boots (I totally can't afford the real thing right now.)
Hooray for beautiful things!
That said, it's really hard to be a pinko socialist and root for the fall of capitalism and the redistibution of wealth when shopping for cute stuff is SO MUCH FUN. At least if the revolution comes I'll look adorable and have great boots for kicking in windows.
I know I have weird obsessions and bizarre aesthetic tastes when it comes to movies (or anything.) That's why I was surprised to see that so many of them had been compiled into one movie, House of the Devil. Everything about it is candy for my senses.
Sam (Jocelin Donahue) is a pretty college sophomore, so desperate to earn some cash for a deposit on an apartment that she accepts a babysitting job even after she finds out there is no baby. Mr. and Mrs. Ulman (cult actors Tom Noonan and... oh my God... Mary Woronov!) are the older couple who lure Sam out to their creeky Victorian mansion deep in the woods, just in time for a total lunar eclipse. Megan (Greta Gerwig) is Sam's best friend, who gives her a ride out to the house, and reluctantly leaves her there despite suspecting that something is amiss. Victor (AJ Bowen) at first seems like just a creepy guy lurking around the house, but quickly makes it clear that Sam will end this night in a bloody fight for her life...
Did you get that? Mary Woronov! She's one of my all-time favorite actors and is in so many or may favorite movies: Rock n' Roll High School, Eating Raoul, Death Race 2000, Rock n' Roll High School Forever etc. And there's also a cameo by Dee Wallace! Awesome!
What the synopsis fails to mention is that the film take place in 1982 and the shots and cinematography take great pains to recreate that era of horror film, which has always been my favorite. (In my opinion, horror was at it's best between 1974 and 1984, give or take a few years.) If I didn't know the movie was made this year I would swear it was a lost classic straight from 82.
Here is a list of things that are beautiful about House of the Devil:
1. Mary Woronov
2. There's a scene where the two teen girls, in beautiful high waisted jeans, drive around in a Volvo singing to the Greg Kihn Band's "Breakup Song." One of them has bleached out Farrah hair and chain smokes a lot. That's beautiful.
(Greg's shirt totally gives me a boner, by the way.)
3. The main character, alone in a totally creepy house, orders a pizza, puts on head phones, and dances around the house with "One Thing Leads to Another" by The Fixx blasting in her ears.
4. I don't know why, and much to James' bewilderment, I'm sure, I like my horror movies slow, slow, slow. Halloween, Don't Look Now, Rosemary's Baby, The Shining, Black Christmas. I guess it just leaves more time for gorgeous wallpaper, and inane conversations between nasty teenagers, and bell bottomed women to taking angst ridden walks down wind blown streets. This movie is like that.
5. Satanism. Glamorous, glamorous Satanism! What can I say? I'm obsessed with America's obsession with Satanism circa 1960s-1980s. Say You Love Satan is a must read, if you haven't. By the way, I'm an atheist, but if worshipping Satan meant I could have an apartment in The Dakota a la Rosemary's Baby, I'd be drugging your chocolate mousse as I write this. I love you, but I love a pre war classic six even more. Hail Satan!
6. The tagline is: Talk on the phone. Finish your homework. Watch TV. DIE! Just try to write a better tagline. I dare you.
7. Dee Wallace mother fucking Stone.
Enough said.
Everybody is gaga over the end of this movie, which for me was just fine. I actually loved the whole build up more than the explosive final fifteen minutes, but that's often the case with me.
In closing, this film contains all the glamour and magic of a Halloween themed Sweet Valley High novel.
Anyway, rent it now or continue having a life that's awful.
Oh my god you guys, I am fagging out.
The BBC aired the first episode of... are you ready for this?... Joan Collins Does Glamour. I know, right? How was this not already a show? How is this not on 24 hours a day? Check it out:
I hope she slaps peopel and pushes people into pools and stuff. God, I can't WAIT. If this isn't on BBC America when I get home, somebody will pay dearly.
It occurs to me that i may need to add a tag for "elegance" because sometimes the catch all "fashion" or "health and beauty" tags just won't suffice. Case in point: Allyson White, who even spells her name the elegant way.
I love waht she's wearing. Are thos epants or does she have a tie dyed blanket over her legs? Extra points for the cigarette, beer, and Cyndi Lauper in hard times hairdo. Anyway, Allyson (god, i'm crazy about that spelling) was definately NOT giving a beej when the driver of the car she was riding in crashed.
Quoth Allyson:
"I was not sucking his d*** - and it's pretty obvious that wasn't the case ... you only have to look at the mark on my chest," she said.
"Clearly I had my seatbelt on, so it's impossible that I'd be leaning over sucking his d*** unless he is hung like a donkey or I've got a f****** rubber neck."
"If it was true I'd just cop it sweet and think 'how embarrassing, I got caught sucking someone's d***' - but it is not true and that's what is p****** me off."
"I don't understand where that story has come from," she said.
"It may have looked bad when police first arrived as my girls were hanging out all over the place. I also had a $5 note wedged between my boobs so they probably just assumed I was a sex worker or something and he'd already paid me."
"But $5 is a bit cheap for a head job."
Too true, sister. too true.
Full story here.
I don't know why I didn't write about Kari Ferrell aka "the hipster grifter" when it was all the buzz a few months ago. I certainly had an interest. I was following the whole thing quite closely, actually, and would update The Boyfriend with all the latest developments on a regular basis.
I suppose it might be because all the coverage was so negative. Of course it was. She is a "hipster" which we're supposed to disdain, right? (Even though nearly everybody I know who hates hipsters actually is one.) Also, and more to the point, she swindled lots of people out of lots of money. So... um... that's bad.
The thing is, I really, really like her. I know! I can't help it though. Is it so wrong of me? People like Bonnie and Clyde, don't they? Billy the Kid? So maybe it's just natural for me to find an outlaw like Kari appealing. Maybe it's the under dog in me who also not-so-secretly thinks it would be hilarious to pretend to have an Ivy League MFA. (I still think that's an awesome idea, by the way. I apologized for getting sidetracked, not for my original point. And now I'm sidetracked again! Gah!) Also, Kari introduced me to two awesome sayings:
1. I want to give you a hand job with my mouth.
2. Throw a hot dog down my hallway.
She's like the tranny teens who were mugging people outside of an upscale Greenwich Village apartment building a few months ago and using the profits to buy wigs and makeup. In a word, AWESOME. Call me tarhearted, but I hope she gets everything she ever wanted and more. The street fags have a saying, and I would like to apply this saying to Kari.
"Get it, girl."
You can write to the woman herself while she's in prison, and I'm seriously considering it. It's unkind to make a hipster live in Utah. Cruel and unusual punishment! Write to Kari at:
K. Ferrell
Inmate SO#: 295558
Salt Lake Correctional Facility
3415 South 900 West
Salt Lake City, UT 84119
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