Sunday, February 28, 2010

Oh Coco, you Crazy!



CHANELLO! I knew Chanel put their illustrious Double C's on everything from surfboards to motorscooters (?) but I think this is rather dope, a line of FAUX TATTS. Perhaps I am only so excited because I really love FAUX TATTS. In fact last weekend my mother came to visit me and we went on an ill-fated for her shopping spree in Albertson's and I found these awful awful "Bling" tattoo sheets and would not let up until she relented to purchase them. Then us girls spent the next morning adorning our wrists and backs with tennis bracelets, money signs, diamonds, and sapphires (there was a RIM tattoo, erm we left that one.) So if I am willing to plaster myself with Albertson's brand flashies, Chanel's swallow-dragging-a-rosary lovely neck thing makes me want to do laundry I'm so happy. However these haute body markings don't come cheap (does anything, ever?) it's $75 for 55 different designs. LE SIGH. Life is hard. To chanel tatt or not to chanel tatt?

But oh! Wouldn't they be fun to wear for Spring?? Buy them here

Image Via stylelist.com

Friday, February 26, 2010

Yeah! Yeah!



Ach tu Liebe France Gall! She was/is forever a French yé-yé girl who was arguably the most successful of the bunch. Yé-yé girls were a Euro phenonmenon in the 60's, specifically in France, Spain, and Quebec. They were young (France was 16 when she had her first hit) women who sang about first love, boys, and things of a coequettish nature like licking lollipops. Tre Lolita! They represented something about generation 60's with their perhaps white lipstick, babydoll dresses, and and soft sing-speak. Anyway France Gall is adorable to have on a playlist. Good dinner party music. Not that I throw many a dinner party but when I do, France Gall will be speak-singing in the background and all my friends who haven't heard me put her on will say Who is this?. Sacré Charlemagne!


Photo Cred: withmymonosynth

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

The day I met David Sedaris

I love David Sedaris. I love him so much I can't stand when he is referenced unless it is an impeccable one; a great addition to the conversation. I once sat sulking after reading a blog comment about how the blogger's tone was very David Sedaris. No it f8cking wasn't! The man is a god of hilarity. You work at Starbucks.

I love David Sedaris so much that halfway through Naked I began to remember my childhood in Raleigh, North Carolina. I remembered the sound of ice cubes in my mother's glass of scotch, the stink of shoe polish dripping down my face. When i put the book down to go brush my teeth, I was shocked to see a freckled and frizzy haired young lady of 20 staring back at me. Sonia? You are suddenly not a 5'7 blond gay who recently quit smoking?

I love David Sedaris so much I read his books to comfort me when I am feeling bad about myself. One time I got dumped and really drunk. The amount of time I laid in bed the next day made me delirious. As I lay there reading Me Talk Pretty One Day and rolling around laughing so hard I thought "I am going to be so successful."

Last year the man I love so much came to my college town and I scrambled to get terrible seats to the reading. It was hilarious, my sister and I gripped one another the entire time he was on stage, laughing really loudly. Every so often we would turn and face each other, to make sure each of us not only got the joke, but understood exactly how funny it was.

Afterwards she and I waited like eager groupies to have him sign the one copy we brought of Naked. Looking back, we should have brought two separate books; we asked him to put both of our names. To what? Pass back and forth?

Meeting David Sedaris was one of the more sublime experiences of my life. And by sublime I don't mean a moment of pure and unadulterated joy (over used phrase btw) I mean Wordsworth's mind blown reaction to the Swiss Alps. As in I was the English Romantic poet and David Sedaris was a Swiss Alp and I was standing at the foot of it/him, terrified, impressed, and sweaty at the same time.

Thus in my fav vintage dress and strappy Calvin heels, my sister and I sheepishly handed over our book (She wears the dress, and I stay home!) I remember he was wearing a black and white polka dotted tie and eating from a variety of those sandwich/fruit and cheese platters that once made me sick on a flight to Denver. Here is an excerpt from my journal about how our interaction went. (Context: Somehow David Sedaris, my sister, and I got to talking about how we grew up. Our father was in the military so I have lived in New Jersey, Hawaii, and Virgina before my father retired in California)

-saw david Sedaris on Saturday. He was amazing amazing and after we went to get our book signed. was so nervous I felt drunk and high. He said Iceland would have been interesting instead of Hawaii. A) I think I made the fact that we could have gone to Iceland up and B) I said “yeah, I am kind of bummed we didn’t go there” NO YOU ARE NOT SONIA, YOU ONLY SAID THAT BC DAVID SEDARIS SAID THAT WOULD BE INTERESTING

He makes a point of giving his fans a token of appreciation in the form of a little gag gift. He also does not give the gifts to anyone over 18 because, well, I am not sure, but that's the rule. Minors get swag.

He handed Sash's a condom and made a joke about anal sex which I am disappointed that I can't remember, I know the large security guard was snickering and Sash and I were doing that nervous, horsey giggle trying not to lapse into hysteria because David fucking Sedaris made an anal sex joke to and maybe even for us. And then, the crowning jewel of moments for my silly life happened when David Sedaris, despite my age (20), bestowed upon me a gift because "she's so charming as well." He gave me a fake amputated finger, one of those gag-ish Halloween plastic and rubber things that people adorn tables and maybe even like a mantle with during the fall season. I still have it; it's my ring holder.

I am very happy that I did meet David Sedaris even though I am still insecure that "charming" meant "please stop looking at me like that." However, I think I am glad a lot of the writers I so admire are dead.