What a little stinker! This charming skunk pin was prowling the denim of writer Trinie Dalton‘s tunic at the 2nd Floor Projects opening Saturday night. 2nd Floor Projects is an art gallery that curator and all-around counterculture historian/planner of happenings/magical art witch Margaret Tedesco has in her house. How cool is that? Nothing seems so generous and wonderful. We live in a cruel world, people, full of harshness and insanity, and for this woman to invite art friends into her home to discuss art, which is imagination and intelligence, this strikes me as a major act of optimism and I applaud it. Also, people wear cute outfits to art openings. Let’s look around.
Shows at 2nd Floor Projects consist of a pair of artists and then an Edition penned/created by a writer. The current show is called Chirality, which is either a kind of molecule or a sort of ‘handedness’ – I don’t know, it’s deep, man! The sculptures of wet-looking ceramic hunked with glitter and sliced with slabs of glowing neon plastic are by Rebecca Bollinger, and the paintings of sort of urban landscapes and alleys and maybe a Star Wars character reading Nabokov are by Scott Hewicker, and Trinie here did the Edition, an essay/collage that pulls into a poster. I already went into detail about how amazing Trinie is at the RADAR literary lifestyle blog, so I’m going to save it but say that her next book, Baby Geisha, will be out this year on the excellent new press Two Dollar Radio. And Trinie’s cute skunk pin made me think of these jewels by Gisele Ganne:
Gisele Ganne is my new favorite jewelry designer, and that top ring-thing with the golden beak and the pearl – it’s like an aggregate of my baseline internal landscape. It’s also called ‘Divorce Jewelry’, which I love. And those warmongering rings are very clever, and to bring it all back around to art, remind me of Jake and Dinos Chapman‘s epic installation Fucking Hell, which I saw in Europe a few years ago, leaving me disturbed forever.
This sassy lady with the Kathleen Hannah bangs made me realize that I’ve turned my back on a certain style of bejeweled, bedazzled vintage party dress, and to my own detriment. Nothing says festivities like a floaty chiffon number in an eye-catching hue, studded with bolts of sparkle just to nail the point home. Oops, did I just mix metaphors? Also, her name is Adriana!
I really liked the pearls in her hair, especially after mooning over a spread of hairdos by couture coiffure genius Odile Gilbert in Lula magazine, in particular an updo impaled by Gilbert’s own elegant, pearl-topped hair pins. Look!
Look at these besties with the bold, bombastic eyeglasses! I especially like the lady’s pair, for being so huge and roundly square and solidly black. Also, her name is Michelle, as is mine, which means we are both members of an elite and somewhat secret society called Michelle. That’s all I can say about it. I will tell you that I’ve been obsessed with these Rodarte x Opening Ceremony shades ever since glimpsing them at a Barney’s on tour. They’re called Roy Orbison. Yeah, I like to duck into a Barney’s whenever possible on Sister Spit. They’re so relaxing.
Don’t panic, it’s just filmmaker and artiste Dia Felix in a vintage silk Dior top! At first she thought it was YSL, then realized it was Dior, but what if it was YSL when he worked for Christian Dior and made cutesypie trapeze dresses like this:
This is almost certainly the best dress ever. I just saw a crappy movie about Yves and his troubled love affair with his business partner Pierre, called L’amour Fou. Good title but I didn’t much care for it. It could have benefited from someone cutting all the loving, lingering shots of, like, dew on leaves and whatnot, and more information about what a jerky alcoholic Yves was, and more screen time of Betty Catroux in sunglasses for no reason saying dark, cynical things about life.
Anyway, let’s get a closeup of Dia’s new wave silken Dior, shall we?
This seems of too fine a pedigree to want to wear while sipping soda from a bottle through a straw and slinking around to The Cars. Early cars. And yet, that’s just what I’d like to do in it.
Sometimes people get more and more gorgeous and sometimes that person is my dear friend Tara Jepsen, looking just so fucking radiant in a Serial Cultura shirt she picked up at The Bell Jar on 16th Street and a jacket from American Rag, perhaps via a free box in a dumb person’s home. I was like, Tara, how come your skin is so beautiful and shining with rays of purity and light, what do you do what do you do? And she was like, I don’t know, I just drink a lot of water with lemon and eat dark greens. THIS INFORMATION SHOULD MAKE ME HAPPY! It’s not like she said, Oh I use a La Mer serum for $300 and ounce. She said, I drink water and eat greens. And it just filled me with despair. Why is it easier for me to slather something on my face than drink a jar of freaking water?!I even have a bag of kale in my fridge right now but I am choosing to eat hunks of Tillamook cheddar on Triscuits like I always always always eat for three meals a day no kidding. I have water coming out of my tap but I’m drinking like a pomegranate spritzer I made that’s soooooo yummy. I just want to put something on my face and not think about it. Oh, Tara is also gluten free and doesn’t eat dairy. That’s why she’s so gorgeous. Let’s look at her cleavage.
Knower of all things good and cool, Margaret Tedesco. I’m so totally mad I didn’t take a picture of her incredible archive, which stores proof of everything excellent that ever happened in an artistic way in San Francisco, plus a giant Ouija – like board that is not a ‘Ouija’ board but something more obscure. Of course! Margaret’s archive made me me think of NYT photographer Bill Cunningham’s old studio in Carnegie Hall because I just saw that movie, Bill Cunningham New York City. Now that was a terrific documentary! Everyone go see it! It totally made me sad I didn’t take my friend Elyssa’s bike when she moved to Brooklyn last week so I could ride around on it taking street fashion shots like Bill. Wearing a blue French painter’s smock with a blue sweater flung around my neck. Let’s look at this remarkable man. If you don’t know who I’m talking about even more reason for you to see the movie!
One of the best things about the movie is that it talked about how Details magazine used to be an impossibly cool, downtown avant-garde fashion magazine. No, I’m not kidding! It went from this:
Nothing gold can stay, Ponyboy.