All content copyright 2009 by Holly Gleason. Web design by Lauren Carelli.
‘Tis the season. Just don’t wear your’s like Britney!
Tough love for creatives. If there’s anything to stick TNT up one’s somewhat languishing backside, this is it. Stops negative inner voices in their tracks, reminds the reader what’s important and shows excuses for the lame self-defeats they are.
Sea salt compounded with rose oil and orange water. Shaped into a ball - that when dropped into water, turns into festive alka seltzer of the bath. Smells great, detoxifies, offers the babiest of colors to tint the moment.
A tea room devoted to Alice in Wonderland? Curiouser and curiouser. or perhaps delicious and deliciouser. Home made scones (banana/brown sugar, berry berry), tea sandwiches like chicken and green apples or cumin roasted carrots, sweets that defy description. The only thing more fun are the panties that proclaim “Off with his head” and “nibble.”
“I’m paying what for this?” Once the shock wears off and those real bristles start sweeping through your hair, stimulating your scalp, you’ll feel silly for ever scoffing. Splurge. It’s a once in a lifetime purchase— and the sensation will more than carry.
It won’t be out ‘til next year, but. the man who gave you the unflinching Houston Kid, a harrowing look at growing up rough in the worst part of a tough town assesses life and makes a decision to walk towards the light. It’s still a struggle, he concedes, but it can be done. and anything that can inspire us mere mortals to get our wings can’t be all bad! “Still Learning How To Fly” alone is a reminder that it’s a process, not a destination. Just keep doing and trying, let the sad fall away, keep the sweet and one’s eye on the horizon. Simple on paper, it’s the application— and these songs—that show it for the reality that it is; but also that it’s worth it.
Basically black and white, a bit oversized and dominated by that shock wig. this is pop art at its finest - to lick and stick and understand that iconography can be about presentation as much as the object. Campbell’s Soup Cans v. Marilyn, Liz, Liza or Diane Von Furtsenberg.
They come in a pink box! And if you’re really lucky, I hear they’re also packaged in a little pink purse box. But just getting to bite into—or letting one of these chocolate covered morsels dissolve on your tongue —is a trip into the subtle richness that is great chocolate. Not the waxy drugstore check-out line stuff here, depth and butter and a texture that will sweep you away. Barney’s and Bergdorf Goodmans and probably Neiman Marcus sell them. And there’s a freestanding Fauchon outpost in New York. An affordable guilty pleasure that’s way too much, but way too much decadence. Do it once—and smile.
Custom-rolled burritos made by real people. Pick your condiments— cucumber’s odd at first, but cools and contrasts the freshly pickled jalapenos. Their tomatillo salsa’s insane—and the hot one is all about spice and pop! Clean food from people who love what they do in what looks like a Santa Miguel surf shack.
The Coco Chanel of the pink and green set did her first turn on the catwalk at this year’s Fashion Week. She was the embodiment of class and grace, but especially humanity. Maybe sea lions and jumbo flowers aren’t everyone’s speed, but the carriage and humor Lilly brings to the world sure would serve us as a culture. www.corrico.com to see the clothes for yourself
If someone had told me I’d be a human pin cushion, I’d've laughed. Me, the needlephobic, lying back and letting someone else do everything? With needles?! Yeah, buddy… Until I was fast asleep with pins protruding from my nose, hair line, feet, wrists, tummy and legs. And I’ve started sleeping like a big dog, breathing as if allergies were nonexistent—and finding a new kind of peace. Or else it’s all in my head. Either way, I’ll take it.
You could think of it as Ms. With a sense of humor, but that wouldn’t be fair—as this insurrecto start-up has content, is unflinching in its tackling awkward topics straightforwardly and isn’t afraid to have fun with any of it. It’s a quarterly—$14.97 domestic - that can be had from: 78 5th Avenue, NY, NY 10011-8000 or .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address) Fall is their Sex issues. So read it and weep: with laughter and recognition. And their “What Would Joan Jett Do?” t-shirts rule.
Need I say more? Sexy, girly, hot and bothered. Wear them with anything —and less.
She’s got it all: class, beauty, brains and a journalistic sense second to none. If Truman Capote was right about socially graceful women being swans, the Sawyer is the alpha-issue. A reason to wake up and care about the news every single morning.
No one ever talks about what happens when the war’s over and everyone goes home. or the landmines that’re just below the surface, waiting to blow some innocent apart. But while we’re all hopped up on moral indignation at being wronged, the real morality play is this: the notion that we go home and leave open spaces spiked to kill or maim, knowing only children may play there—or someone taking a shortcut home.
Inexpensive (for New York), tiny rooms in Sherwood Forest. The Cafeteria has mind-bendingly good short ribs. The bars are as varied as Sybil’s self. And on Monday, there’s belly dancing.
The cast—Susan Sarandon as a controlling society wife on the fade, Jeff Goldblum as a dark Mr. Big, Claire Danes as the tough-spirited girl trying to make her way and her heart, Amanda Peat as the kept girl on the slide, Ryan Phillipe as the boy whose privilege and duty can’t quite kill his heart and Kieran Culkin as the smart-ass child who sees it as it is amongst the delusionals and justifiers and could rise above it all—is insane. The tale seems frought with excess, though to those who’ve seen that world, it’s strangely accurate. Catcher In the Rye in a whole other dimension.
Showing organic doesn’t mean anemic or wimpy, the Dixie Chicks transform two lost souls into a forged steel dedication. There’s big heartbreak over a folky bed, commentary on the personal cost of war and Natalie Maine’s buzz saw of a voice brought down to lullabye intimacy as she frees the waves of loneliness found, lost and regained.
Big thick plush sweat shirt material. A cocoon-like returning to the womb. In a pale yellow-based pink with black gothic letters. Those on the inside track of prurience know what the slang is. those on the other side, think it’s some kind of WASPy Mexican outpost. Either way, you’re feeling warm and nurtured and slightly provocative.
Okay, not the most environmentally sound way to spend time… but environmentally appreciating? Only hiking can touch it—and for those of you who can do all those miles! For the rest of us, load up the CDs, pack up the dog and roll. Not only do you have time to not DO anything, but you can take in the glory that is leaves turning, the sky being opened back up, the end of the most fertile season and a chance to survey the larger whole that is one’s home. Or someone else’s home. Nothing like the road—be it a two-lane or something bigger taking you to point b—to offer clarity and appreciation on a whole other scale. And for what Triple A costs, make the investment—it’s so much easier when what you don’t need is another roadside wrecker.