Have you seen this?

Shown above is a small collection of jewelry entitled "Mourning Objects", created by Central St. Martins student Andrea Schwamborn. The jewelry is composed of human material gathered from passed loved ones. There is clearly hair used, but human ash is mixed with the black bone china that the beads are made from, as well.

Hanging on to literal pieces of a loved one is nothing new; I remember taking a family vacation to Williamsburg and being shown women's lockets filled with dead soldiers' hair. A friend of mine used to wear a small vial around her neck containing her mother's ashes.

Aside from looking fairly rad, though, would you consider wearing such an object? Would you feel more comfortable wearing it if the hair belonged to someone you didn't know? Or should we just let sleeping dogs lie?

Personally, I'd rather raid a violin shop and take a bow-snipping for all my hair-related jewelry.

Yours,

Elissa.


[image via Dezeen]

Weekend Festivities.

Every year, the city puts on a three-day, free hippie festival (sadly, no indentured hippie festivals). And much as the locals moan and groan about the lines, the crowds and the expensive beer, somehow, we all find ourselves there all three days.

Tonight found me watching my friends' bands...

The Wet Darlings. This photo is meant to illustrate how my sensitivity to volume impairs my ability to take good photos of bands.

Wondering how long these Christmas deer have been stuck up in the tree...


Style-stalking unsuspecting people on the sly...


And trying on rad hairpieces. Inspired Wire has a million out-there, beautiful hairpieces. Check 'em out here.

Antlers. Oh, the poise produced by twelve hours of carousing in the sun...

8 More Days to Enter the Contest! You could win an iPod Shuffle!

Good luck,

Elissa.

Give it away, give it away, give it away now!

I seem to have a charming effect on children lately; previously, my relationship with children was one of mutual avoidance. However, directly after I shot this photo and was going to my camera to check the results, a little girl broke free from her mother's hand to hug me and say, "I love you." I know. I didn't even have any candy on me.

Dress: thrifted. Shoes: Nine West. Earrings: Target.

I feel weird telling you these stories, because I fear they come off a bit smug...

Smug bitch!

...but really I'm just sharing my utter bewilderment with you. Children love ladies in black, I suppose, and soon, one of you will too! Even though there is no candy in my bag, there is this...

Ta-da! A brand spanking-new iPod Shuffle!

...the prize for this latest contest!! Everything you need to randomly listen to songs that you love (I load mine with gay nightclub music for working out), including the Shuffle itself, earbuds and dock.

How to Enter:

1) Follow me on Twitter, then leave a comment on this post.

2) Post about this contest on your own blog, then leave a comment on this post.

3) Become a follower of this blog, then leave a comment!

You can say anything you want, but I'm hoping your comments will include which album you can't wait to get next, as I'm always looking to expand my repertoire. ;)

You can enter this contest any time between now and July 5, 2009 at 12 pm. The winner will be randomly generated, and posted on or around July 6.

Good luck everyone!

Yours,

Elissa.

No one wants to be defeated.

I couldn't say nothing about Michael Jackson, even with the knowledge that every blog will be abuzz about it by the time I hit "publish".

Without a doubt, MJ has left his mark --nay, crater-- on nearly every aspect of popular culture since 1969. People all over the planet loved and were moved by his music (my first impression of Michael Jackson was how frickin' cool he was in the "Billie Jean" video). And he was a boy, then a man, who lived to please through performance.

If you've ever seen The Jacksons: An American Dream, then you have some idea of what a tortured, twisted soul he was. All the fame and money in the world is a poor trade for a lifetime of profound self-hatred and abuse.

I think he did molest those children. And while that puts a big, black "X" over him in my mind (and probably many others' minds), strangely, I almost feel sorry for him that he did.

The audience giveth, and the audience taketh away. While everyone earns their punishment, it is sad that three children watched as their father fell from one of the most beloved figures of our time, to one of the most reviled, spending his remaining years running from one country to the next, while his fortune and name crumbled to dust beneath him.

I hope Michael's kids find a safe and loving place to take them in, where they can be provided the kind of peace and anonymity that masks never could.

Yours,

Elissa.

Guilty Pleasures!

I've never been into Harry Potter, but I always rather liked the looks of Emma Watson. I admire that she's never one to cloy, be badass or play sexy (in fact, the one time she did it was off-key). I've been waiting for a magazine to do something wonderful with her, and Teen Vogue finally came through in a sort of Vivienne Westwood Enjoys Some Earl Grey With a Huge Rabbit kind of way.


I'm really loving the heavy, tapestry-style skirts and rich, Dionysian tones. Yep, I said Dionysian. Now they can never say I wasn't high-brow.



Ain't nothin' like a sharp jacket with mountains of tulle.



Must. Aquire. Velvet. Blazer. This girl is charming the dickens out of me. Or should I say Fitzgerald?


I love how the feminine, exaggerated details of the outfit make the leopard tights seem playful, not tarty.



Ah, yes, every girl's fantasy. You ever think that Teen Vogue is not so much a magazine for teens, but a magazine for people that understand (implicitly or no) that young starlets make great Barbie dolls?



Love the natural look, punctuated with a dark lip and brow.

HEY!!

I've got a fantastic contest coming up; the best I've ever had, I might add. Keep your ears pricked (well, eyes peeled, neither sounds too pleasant though)-- I will announce it very soon!

Til then, check out this video (love!) of this song (adore!) that now enjoys a home on my iPod (there's a clue about this contest in that last sentence!).



Yours,

Elissa

Short and Sweet/Things that I Thrift.

Taking a moment out of frantically cleaning house in anticipation of a big party we're throwing this weekend. Not for any particular reason, but it does happen to fall on the weekend that summer officially begins. According to the Farmer's Almanac, it's gonna be a hot one.

I thrifted the center picture some time ago, but it always looked weird all alone. Last week, my Sweetay was going through his Granny's old stuff and found 4 matching ones! They depict Revolutionary soldiers and their dress (Colonel of Artillery, American Dragoon, etc.)

Today, I worked way out in the country and had a couple of charming interactions with the people there. On my way out of the store, a little boy grabbed my hand from out of nowhere and pointed up, saying, "Look, look! Do you see the dot in the sky?" I looked and saw. "That's my balloon! I'm sending it to my Mommy. She died." There was no weirdness; the boy was laughing and smiling. "Oh, how sweet of you," I then said. "I'm sure she'll like that very much."

I picked up this plucky pair of unicorns at the countrified thrift today for a mere 50cents.

Soon afterwards, I walked past a barbershop with some guys sitting on the bench outside singing. "Don't quit your day jobs," I joked. Later, they passed me in the car and stopped to serenade me with Boyz II Men's "On Bended Knee".

I am in serious love with these shoes. I don't need anyone to tell me how to get them back the way they used to be, because they're in nearly-new condition.

Back to my Scrubbing Bubbles,

Elissa.

On Khaki Pond.

There's a pond in the backyard of our apartment that has long been neglected. Filled with ancient, decaying detritus and ten thousand other types of gross and with cracks in its lining, we asked our rental company to either restore it or fill it in before it got too hot outside and started to attract mosquitos and flies (yick!).

So, tired of getting no help, we took on the task ourselves. We cleaned out the pond, filled it with fresh water, and treated it to be fish-friendly.

Here I am, letting our fledgling school of comet goldfish free, free, FREE! I've asked around, and pretty much all that needs done is to feed the fish for the first two weeks, and by that time, they'll figure out how to eat the mosquitos off the top of the water.

They can grow to be up to a foot long or so... hopefully they'll end up like these amicable fellows at the Conservatory:


Today found me going to an interview for a Visuals Manager position at a decidedly staid retailer. I felt the occasion called for khaki, even though, after many a taupe tragedy, I've sworn to never wear khaki bottoms again. I've also sworn myself to never wear blue, button-up shirts (sigh, don't ask). What gripped me when I assembled this ensemble under pressure of time yesterday at Target?

Shirt: Target. Skirt: Target. Belt: Thrifted. Shoes: MIA. Bag: Francesca. Earrings: Target. Shades: Found them in my glovebox today.

I've no frickin' clue, but much to my amazement, this was one outfit that I felt really great wearing. I've always been afraid of "normal" clothes, and I always tend towards something "weird", but I liked feeling respectable and casually business-y. Bonus: after the interview, I foraged through F21 and found a bunch of different ways to work this skirt into less straightforwardly work-like attire (aka: funky McAwesome). Stay tuned.

Yours,

Elissa.

When Precious White Kitties Attack!

We've been having a bit of a raccoon problem at the ol' hacienda-- they've chewed a hole in one of the eaves, and we frequently hear them ambling around the heating and cooling ducts. Just yesterday, I saw Mama Raccoon leading three (yikes, yes, three) baby raccoons up our wall into the eave. As cute as the little baby raccoon trills are, I know that there could be rabies in them thar 'coons.

Our cat, Stella, likes to hang out on the porch at night and watch them. We decided to sit and watch with her tonight to see if we could catch another glimpse of the raccoon family... watch with us...



I have to tell you that as we were watching this I experienced a range of conflicting emotions from fear to "Awww!" to "Egads!" I'm glad to know kitty can hold her own against a baby raccoon, but as far as Mama goes, we better start bringing her in at night!

Yours,

Elissa.

Sick (like cool, but also like ill).

So, maybe I do need to get all those vitamin supplements, post-workout drinks and protein bars that P90-X shills because after 5 weeks of working out super-hard 6 days a week, I am run-down! Therefore, I am hunkered down on our electric teal couch with a 32 oz bottomless mug of diet root beer and a laptop-full of Foto Decadent.

Here, my immediate favorite find of the day, a David LaChapelle shoot with a Cher-tastic Christina Aguilera for Vogue Italia in 2003.

If I were getting married in winter, this would be my inspirational photo.

If I weren't so attached to my current blog header, I would probably replace it with this image of Christina Aguilera as the Patron Saint of the Spandex Pony.

When I see this photo, "Age of Aquarius/Let the Sunshine In" goes through my head.

Hey! Leave me a comment (or two) for me to warm myself by during this extended cold. I really do love them, and they're just the thing to restore a girl's spring in her step.

Yours,

Elissa.

Pirelli Girls.

Although I'm sure they stock many a thought-provoking tome, Half-Price Books is pretty much my destination for coffee table "reading". The Pirelli Calender 1964-1997 hitched a ride home with me on my last trip out. The Pirelli calender was Pirelli Tires' promotional girlie calendar that superceded your average "hot-girl" calender in terms of its artistic value and zeitgeisty-ness.

Richard Avedon snapped two years in the calendar, but the one that really caught my eye was 1972, shot by Sarah Moon. If you know Sarah's ethereal, water-colored fashion illustrations (want!), then you'll definitely recognize the following Gatsby-esque photos as hers (his).



And here am I today, taking my own soft-focus, vaguely 1920's turn in florals and polka-dots.

Blouse: thrifted. Skirt: thrifted. Shoes: MIA. Belt: Thrifted. Necklace: Thrifted. Hm!

I definitely consider myself a bit more Zelda than Daisy (read: hot mess), so I pat myself on the back for being able to sit so primly on what is more accurately a gigantic, rock-rimmed hole.

Til Next Time,

Elissa.

Oh, the things that I've seen!

Such a short vacation but completely chock-full of all that I needed: food, folks, and fun.

Day one was rather rained-out, but I wasn't at all discouraged from strutting around my old haunts (around the NYU campus).

Crazy knitted-heads-on-stakes in a window on Broadway.

I also got a haircut; nothin' major, but I needed the hands of an old, trusted stylist to start shaping my flappery bob thang into something a bit longer. Yes, gasp-- I'm going to grow 'er out.

A fellow patron's young son and his extremely bitchin' footwear.

Later in the day, as I stopped by the macrobiotic bodega near my brother's place to pick up a bottle of Peche Lambic for a dinner party at my brother's place, I spotted this young filly whose rained-out style begged for a photograph. Meaw.

Ankles? Wet. Neck? Dry.

The next day, I wandered through Central Park as I waited to meet my friend at the Park Avenue Armory.

Although I didn't pay admission, I did get to see some children's theater, seals, and cool sculptures. I also ate a mango with Valentina hot sauce, lemon juice and salt on it and I was pleased as hell.

We checked out the Ernesto Neto exhibit...


...a hand-knit world meant to evoke a body cavity, complete with uvulae containing spices like clove and lavender.

...and plastic balls.

Myself...

My dear lovely friend.

The Armory itself is a pretty rad old building... we busied ourselves by climbing up cordoned off stairs and ringing old mess bells.

Where few but vermin (and curators) dare go.

The stained glass ain't half bad, either.

Later, we went to hear a friend's band play back at Central Park, accompanied by Charlie, the young pup.

Me, the sweet pupper, and my shoes (Dolce Vita, and $11 on Amazon. For reals).

This guy rode by and I instantly craved cotton candy.


The day closed with dinner at Yuca Bar (uhhhmazing) with another old friend...

Pulled-pork stuffed plaintains make you pose smarmily.

The following short day involved a visit to a craft fair in McCarren Park...

I ended up with the magenta Skeledog shirt; my sweetay got the green Labrador one.

Followed by car-talk with these folks preparing a 1909 Maxwell for tomorrow (Tuesday)'s 100th year anniversary of the first woman's driver's license.

I still regret not begging a ride.

And I closed the day out by mourning over shoes that wouldn't fit in my luggage...

Oh, the brutal pain! -- of not having them, I mean!

The trip really was too damn short, but I'm glad to be back. And frankly, I'm glad I'm glad. When I moved to Ohio from New York, I was afraid that I'd never be glad to be back in Ohio after returning from a trip to NYC. But as it turns, life here, while considerably less full of knit heads on sticks, flivvers, and Roy Lichtenstein-inspired pumps is sweet nonetheless.

Yours,

Elissa.