October 27, 2004
100: "Yeah... WOO!"
I am faced with a dilemma. I will be forced into abandoning the very striped-scarves-and-sneakers-all-the-time Pirate Chic I created. People are catching on, and dirtying it with their own pathetic attempts to steal what I painstakingly crafted.
I see mannequins sporting Sambas while displaying suits. I see girls (the same kind who only recently abandoned their Uggs) trying to steal my candy cane-stripe scarf gimmick. The world is cruel! Even last night, Pete spotted a lesser version of me in the crowd at his friend's book/design event downtown. We both wore badges and black Chuck Taylors. She even had a weaker version of my haircut! I'm not concerned that anyone could have confused us; unlike her, I don't suck.
I'm unnerved to see knock-off Ashleys everywhere. Am I the new Louis Vuitton "Monogram Multicolore"?! Will the streets be inundated with cheap versions of my awesomeness? (Note: The Monogram Multicolore is not awesome... or even acceptable.) Remember when I wore those Chinatown slippers two and a half years ago, and then everyone else jumped on the $5 footwear wagon!? Man. But I am even more hacked off by THIS...
In August, the Times announced "Student Chic Is Remaking Itself, Trading Grunge for Cable Knit" but just yesterday, they gave us the following article. Maybe I'm pleased to see the flakiness of fashion journalism exposed, but I'm too annoyed by the subject to be distracted by this entirely obvious revelation.
Please note that my brother Chris is not a "fashion journalist" but a fashionista kind enough to impart some of his wisdom to blokes via the web. Of course, Chris and I don't always see eye-to-eye, but isn't that the nature of sibling-ness? We can't all be like Chris. We can't all have, like "taste" and you know, "real clothes" or whatever. Someone's gotta be Ashley... but by "someone" I mean "me, and not you." Well, maybe you, because you're so cute. But not everyone else because they suck and are so not cute.
"Now we're back in black," they say. HA! Some of us never left it, jerk.
October 26, 2004
A Spike in the Heart of Pretty: Punk Rocks Again
By RUTH LA FERLA
Jasper Vigil, a singer with a band named Virus, gazed at a poster of the Ramones above the register at Trash & Vaudeville, the long-running rock boutique on St. Marks Place, where he moonlights as a salesman. "Ugly miscreants," Mr. Vigil muttered with affection. His own look — tar-colored, soap-stiffened hair, sleeveless black denim jacket, tight jeans — owed a clear debt to Joey Ramone and his unruly clan, the American granddaddies of punk.
Another salesman, Ian Michael, a member of a punk band called the Planks, was just as intimidating. His raggedy hair was blackened on one side and bleached white on the other — a stylized male Cruella De Vil. He hoped to look dangerous. "A little danger is kind of appealing, isn't it?" he asked.
Just when it seemed safe to look pretty again, with ladylike clothes in stores, punk has reared its spiky head, a compelling alternative to the ruffles, granny brooches, fox stoles and well-mannered tweeds that are this season's chief retail statement.
Punk's aggressively downbeat look — a pastiche of black leather jackets, shin-hugging jeans and festoons of chains — has showed up on a few runways, in ads and in the wardrobes of high-school hipsters.
Spurred in part by the return to the news of the Ramones — three of whose members have died in the last three years, prompting tributes in print and on concert stages — punk's influence is resurgent. Its wayward sensibility filtered into Karl Lagerfeld's black-and-white collection for the department store H&M, to be available in November. The collection includes black pegged pants with rows of safety pins running down the seams and white T-shirts emblazoned with Mr. Lagerfeld's image.
A more mannered incarnation of the Ramones, of Patti Smith and of other studiously seedy habitués of Max's Kansas City in the 1970's swaggered on the runway of Hedi Slimane, whose spring 2005 men's wear for Christian Dior was rife with Ramone clones in slim ties and striped pullovers.
Ann Demeulemeester, the Belgian designer who forged a career channeling Ms. Smith's maverick style, paraded slouchy white shirts and shredded skirts on her runway in Paris last month. And while that look has yet to infiltrate many big department stores, "Some of it looks good to me again," said Julie Gilhart, the fashion director at Barneys New York.
And it must have looked good, too, to Carine Roitfeld, the influential editor of French Vogue. The magazine's October issue featured a 10-page spread, "Sensation Punk," including a photograph by David Sim showing a cardigan that appeared to hang in tatters over the shoulders of a model. Its designer was Vivienne Westwood, the mother of Anglicized punk.
Two young Ramones fans, Allegra Fierro and Liana Perry, both eighth-graders at the Sacred Heart academy on the Upper East Side, scoured Trash & Vaudeville last week for outfits to wear to a guitar concert at their school. Ms. Fierro, wearing black socks and Keds, struggled to articulate why punk was enticing to her generation. "It's unique," she said, "not like anything I've seen before."
"It's funny: last year we were told we would all be wearing tweeds," said Irma Zandl, the president of the Zandl Group, a research and trend consulting company focused on youth. "Now we're back in black."
Punk, of course, has often been resurrected since the Ramones first thrashed around the stage of CBGB in the mid-70's. Its current expression is more polished, well mannered enough to be embraced, at least tentatively, by the fashion flock. That crowd responds to "a stylized version of punk," not to the unadulterated reality, said Ed Burstell, a New York retail consultant and a former general manager of Henri Bendel.
In some ways, he added, the return of punk is fashion's equivalent of a palate cleanser. "It brings a sense of visual relief," he said, predicting that while the pretty clothes now in stores will endure for a while, "no one is going to want to dress out of their grandma's attic anymore."
Punk's latest incarnation is also tame enough for mass consumption, vastly titillating to teenagers, many of them the younger siblings of the sensation-hungry upper middle class adolescents who a decade ago appropriated the baggy pants and oversize hoodies of hip-hop heroes. "When the mainstream culture gets really boring and bland, kids will go to any length to find something exciting," said Donna Gaines, a sociologist, a Ramones fan and the author of "A Misfit's Manifesto: The Spiritual Journey of a Rock & Roll Heart" (Villard, 2003).
Paradoxically, punk fashion, which still thrives in some quarters as a do-it-yourself look, its elements culled from thrift shops and family castoffs, now sells robustly on the Internet and at the mall.
The youth retail chain Hot Topic sells studded chain chokers and skull-and-bones T-shirts with tattoo sleeves. Interpunk, which has a popular Web site, offers grommeted plastic chokers, vinyl wrist cuffs "hand-crafted from an actual record," and shrunken-looking black Eisenhower jackets.
Trash & Vaudeville, where punk style is a constant, has felt a spike in demand for pointy-toe black Beatle boots, loose-fitting bondage pants of the sort favored by Avril Lavigne and fake leather Sid Vicious jackets. One day last week, the store sold thousands of dollars in punk paraphernalia, said Jimmy Webb, a buyer for the store, noting that a typical item goes for $60 to $80. "We see so many kids buying punk clothes," he said. "Some are no older than 7 or 8."
Mary Perry, who accompanied Liana, her daughter, to the boutique, said she saw no problem with the perky miniskirt the youngster chose to buy. "Last summer at camp I even let her do her hair green," Ms. Perry said. "But I don't let her go to extremes. No tattoos. No piercing." She sighed. "I guess you pick your battles."
Posted by ashley at 09:22 AM | TrackBack
October 26, 2004
99: Too... much... candy
Well, as the direct result of having prematurely consumed a lot of Halloween candy... I now have a stomachache.
I would laugh harder at this, if it didn't worsen the pain in my chocolate-stuffed tummy. God... the pain!
I'm assuming these people are Canadian, since they feel Toronto is the "Gothic capital of the world." And because I'm not sure I've seen anyone, anywhere do any of these "moves." It's possible we just assigned different names for the moves... and their performers.
Am I evil? Yes!
Edited to Add: Thanks to Pete and/or screenhead.com for the link.
Posted by ashley at 04:24 PM | TrackBack
October 07, 2004
81: Looking for something?
I've noticed the amount of traffic devoted to people trying to get to some of my images. I don't mind, honestly, I'm just amazed at the interest.
It seems understandable that people are coming for the Morrissey images, particularly when I've posted so many recently. And some people are looking for that Marilyn-Manson-with-a-koala photo (here it is), which is also understandable considering well, how weird it is.
What I can't explain is the overwhelming interest in some of the other images here, specifically those of Davey Havok. How are you even finding them? I've never even mentioned him!
Are you Googling for him and, for some reason, finding yourself here? That's weird. Looking at this, I don't see my blog appearing anywhere.
Wait... according to this, you can BUY him on eBay! Not only that, but they have "great deals on Davey Havok"! That's amazing! Why are you wasting time here when you could be bidding on your very own Davey!
Ha!
Well, maybe I shouldn't be so rude -- if you're so desperate, here's a freebie.
Now get outta here!
Posted by ashley at 11:35 AM | TrackBack
September 30, 2004
73: "It smells like flowers in here."
I'm amazed that this kind of thing gets said, when clearly I've been wearing this scent for a few weeks now. Well, whatever.
Let's be honest. That Cure/MTV Icon thing sounded like crap and now we have the evidence to prove that it was as awful as we feared it would be.
Sometimes Marilyn Manson seems like an OK guy (Bowling For Columbine, anyone?) and sometimes he seems completely wretched. I don't mean "wretched" in the way Bible-thumpers imagine him to be. (Do they even care about him anymore? Did they ever, really?) I mean "wretched" like the kid you didn't really invite to your party but who shows up anyway, and unable to overcome his extreme social awkwardness, says things which are more annoying than frightening and finds himself sitting alone all night. Loser.
But more to the point, why was *he* hosting this? Why was he even invited? The guestlist is a total mystery -- unless, of course, the guestlist was written up by a 12-year-old Midwestern mall goth. Deftones? BLINK 182!? Was their intention to try to depress Robert Smith with this? Because, personally, it makes me want to die!
As for AFI... well, shut up. Remember when they were a punk band? Maybe they're right and maybe punk has stalled -- but don't forget they're rapidly approaching their thirties and it's doubtful they'd be able to remain agitated high schoolers forever. If you're upset about the most recent album being so over-produced and unlike the rest, you should keep your mouth shut because it's obvious you have no idea what you're talking about -- were you even listening in 2000? Doubt it. What's the big deal anyway? There are far worse things happening musically right now, so it seems foolish to make a stink over a band you never listened to anyway.
As for me, well, I sometimes miss the devilock... and unlike you who has no reasonable point of reference, I'm allowed to. Get a clue! (Apologies to those to whom this does not apply.)
And as for this MTV Icon thing -- I'm blown away by the suckiness of it all.
Watch, and if you aren't equally annoyed... well, I suggest you do a little soul-searching and acquire some better taste.
Boys don't cry but after this, they might!
Posted by ashley at 09:17 AM | TrackBack
September 20, 2004
62: MTV Icon: the Cure
The BBC News: "Cure take the icon test"
And in other news, it is:
6 days until Pete's birthday and
19 until we see Morrissey.
edited to add:
Wait, Marilyn Manson is hosting? WTF?!
Oh, but it gives me another opportunity to show you... THIS!
Posted by ashley at 10:55 AM | TrackBack
September 15, 2004
57: David Gahan, H&M
When I got home last night, I discovered that the Morrissey tickets had arrived in the mail. SNAP!
In other news, has anyone noticed the giant picture of David Gahan in the H&M at Herald Square? It's on the second floor, immediately as you get off the escalator in the men's department.
Thank you, Ticketmaster! Thank you, H&M! *kiss kiss!*
Posted by ashley at 02:22 PM | TrackBack
September 14, 2004
56: "You're like the Strongbad of women's fashion"
I want to take a moment to mention someone very special to me -- consider it an addendum to the VMA post.
Dear Mr. Farnsworth Bentley,
I just wanted to drop you a line and let you know how much I appreciate your work. I love your style, your concern for detail and your wit. I hear you're interested in staring in a children's television program -- I can't wait!
I'd love to introduce you to my brother, and let you two compare fashion notes. Let me know when you're free.
Yours,
Ashley
Chris: "It's like he was calling another era. Of sophistication. When things didn't suck."
Posted by ashley at 05:08 PM | TrackBack
55: MTV Video Music Awards - Revised
I know the VMAs happened eons ago, so it seems strange that I should comment on it now. In my defense, I didn't see it when it first aired and I actually had no intention of ever watching it. But because MTV is prone to repeating the same programs over and over again, and then rehashing them in a series of "specials," it was virtually impossible to avoid seeing even a few minutes of the most recent VMAs.
I won't go into that tired rant about how MTV doesn't actually play music videos anymore. And yet, isn't it a little weird that they should still connect this event to music videos? Hasn't enough time passed since the age of Actually Playing Videos ended, that we could give this event another, more appropriate name? The VMAs are a vestige of a forgotten era, let's not kid ourselves or allow MTV to feel obligated to keep up this charade. Let's call a spade a spade, and call this awards ceremony something accurate. "Big PR Event For Talentless, Badly-Dressed Hacks" perhaps?
In this vein, I have made some revisions to the categories and winners.
The Are You Still Here? Lifetime Achievement Award: Jay-Z.
I thought you retired. Or, planned to. See you next year? Same time, same place? I thought so.
Could it be that your retirement announcement was just *gasp* PR? I won't miss you, I'll be honest, but hopefully your retirement means more time devoted to Beyonce's career. Your gift is in production, not rapping. So just GO already.
The Highly Annoying Award: The Black Eyed Peas, Alicia Keys.
Ooh, it's a tie.
God, so annoying. Ugh.
I can't stand the Black Eyed Peas. Don't ask me "Where is the Love?" Precious, over-produced, righteous, and highly annoying. Why is anyone so fascinated with these people? When they're not lecturing, they're penning Jock Jams like "Let's Get It Started." Ugh.
Alicia? Please. What's with this "ghetto queen" thing? She went to Columbia; is she setting her videos in the projects to counter her Ivy League education and garner credibility, or is she just affected? You decide.
The Strangest Skull Award: Usher.
It's kind of like a peanut M&M, not that there's anything wrong with that.
I'm not sure if wearing a skullcap lessens or worsens the severity of his skull. I think he's better off avoiding those large sunglasses he's been into as of late. I would suggest he investigate other head-covering options. Or parlay this into some kind of mutually beneficial deal with Mars.
The Who Are You Again? Award: JoJo.
No, really, who are you? And do your parents know you're here?
This cannot be her real name, right? Was she kidnapped from the food court and given a record contract? What's her deal anyway? Will we have to wait for the E! True Hollywood story, years after her botched armed robbery of a deli while hopped up on drugs, to figure out who she is? Actually, when you see that episode, you'll probably ask yourself 'Wait, who is she?'
The I Hate Your Name Award: Kanye West, Hoobastank.
Ooh, another tie! What are the odds?
I am tired of the Kanye West hype. I'm tired of hearing his name everywhere. But mostly, I'm just tired of his name. I don't know why "Kanye" sounds so foolish, but it is. It sounds like a form of yoga or seasoning.
You know what this chutney needs? A dash of Kanye!
And I don't have to explain why "Hoobastank" is a bad name.
The I Hate Your Genre Award: Rap music.
Arguably, it's pop music that's really going to send us all to Hell, but I'm tired of that "oh, pop music is so soulless... it's the product of the music industry and blah blah blah" stuff. No, pop music is the product foolish consumers who throw money at crappy bands. If you don't like it, stop buying it or stop complaining.
But it's really rap music that's the threat. Never have so few done so much to ruin the speech patterns of so many. It's like a social opiate. Should we be celebrating the admiration of "pimps" and credit-funded bling? Your kid is better off having sleepovers with Marilyn Manson.
The Trailer Trash Award: Britney Spears.
Man, how many years is this, now? She owns this category! Oh, and congrats on the engagement! *snicker* *snicker*
I like how she's taking her second marriage more seriously than her first, as if this new guy is really worth anything. Will the mother of his illegitimate children attend the ceremony? Will the groom even shave? Tacky, tacky, tacky.
The Oh... Wait... You're Annoying, Too Award: Maroon-5.
Whoops, almost forgot about you guys!
It's like they woke up one morning, and realized their calling in life -- to write the soundtracks to insufferable romantic comedies. And the icing on the cake is that they seem to be as annoying as their music is! Is this the rebirth of Matchbox 20?
The I'm Tired of Your Hair Award: Gwen Stefani.
Seriously. I suggest some super-dark lowlights.
I'm not a fan but I appreciate she's at least making an effort to do something to stand out from the crowd. I feel this all-platinum thing is a little tired, she's been doing it for too long and it's starting to look dated (not to mention unhealthy). I think she should invest in some lowlights, add contrast or color. I also think she should thicken her brows, these are all wrong for her face shape. Gwen, call me.
The How Are You So Fabulous? Award: Beyonce.
What's your secret?
Where's that glowing skin come from? Whose moisturizer do you use? Want to come over and swap accessories? I have the perfect earrings for you! Then we can do pedicures and watch movies!! Call me!
The Most Likely to Have Been Raised on Another Planet Award: OutKast.
Let me guess -- you're not from around here.
Doesn't Andre3000 make Esquire's best-dressed list every year? How did this guy manage to get through those rough teenage years without getting beat up in every direction? He is the best alien to visit Earth since ET! And as for Big Boi, it takes a special kind of person to name their pitbull "Polar bear."
The All-Around Teen Entertainer Champion Award: Lindsay Lohan.
No, Hilary Duff is the blonde one.
Lindsey is the kinda heavy one who hangs out with Tara Reid. I know, that's so weird, right?
There's a third one, isn't there? Another one of those "I act, sing, dance, and host awards shows" girls. Who is it? Oh, whatever, they're all the same.
The Most Likely To Give Lindsay Lohan an Eating Disorder: Me.
What? Whoops!
The Stupid Hipster Award: The Yeah Yeah Yeahs.
Duh!
God, I can't stand them. It's like the Breeders in the wrong decade, with a side of Lower East Side affectation. Oh yeah, it's so awesome how intense Karen O is on stage, right? Shut up. She's lame and you're lame for thinking she's not. If this were 5 years ago, she might be sporting a truckers' hat and doing the same wannabe Iggy Pop-meets-Sonic Youth thing she does now. Weak!
See you next year!
Posted by ashley at 09:32 AM | TrackBack
September 10, 2004
51: <3 NONNO! ^_^
About two years ago I was tossed out into the reality of semi-adulthood -- I graduated from college.
Six months before graduation began preparing for post-May reality. I stopped dying my hair. I got a job. I bought a lot of Banana Republic. And I chose a really unfortunate haircut -- remind me of that if I ever tell you I'm thinking of bangs again.
The sad truth is that a girl cannot live by E. C. Star alone. And unfortunately, no, every day is not Halloween.
I discovered that semi-adulthood is boring, exhausting, and full of ugly clothes. Time flies in a frightening way (it's SEPTEMBER!?), and all the while, you find yourself in outfits so heinous that you barely recognize yourself. Is this all there is to life? Will it always be this way?!
NO!
Not if you march yourself down to the JAS Mart (I prefer the one at 23rd street, near Park but the one on St. Marks is much larger) and pick up a copy of Nonno. I know I risk a lot by throwing this information out to the world, but my love for Nonno is so strong that nothing could keep me from spreading the word.
It's a Japanese fashion magazine, it features page after page of outfits and how-to explanations (the use of arrows and numbers is especially helpful here). It is a Bible for the cute. It is the wind beneath my wings.
Maybe I'm not pulling the Nonno look off as well as I'd like. I'm glad to be breaking away from the claustrophobia and monotony of Banana Republic and actual adulthood. Given, I wouldn't wear some of the shoes the Nonno girls (I love you, Aiko!) wear, and I can't be asked to make my face into a look of continual surprise/happiness. And of course, most workdays require things to be toned down and made dull. But Nonno keeps my little black heart afloat in the vast sea of responsibility and the dreary 9-to-5 (or, in my case, the 8:45-to-8:30).
Bless you, Nonno, for you are AWESOME!
Play a game on the Nonno website -- the object is to quickly put together as many uber-cute outfits as possible, before time runs out! Click here!
Yeah, then we can put on our cutest clothes and take the panda dog for a walk.
Posted by ashley at 09:13 AM | TrackBack
September 09, 2004
50: "The little one is having a hard time waking up."
Special thanks to Mike's grandmother for the above quote, circa 2002. Indirect special thanks to Mike and Sarah for getting married, enabling me to participate in the collective nap on his grandmother's couch. I did have a hard time waking up -- Sarah has an unexpectedly comfortable shoulder.
Pete has informed me that TiVo has collected an episode of the new season of the Surreal Life. I am pumped because this season not only features Charo (!) but a puppy (!!).
Let's see if this rivals my favorite Charo appearance -- the Pee Wee's Playhouse Christmas Special! As if this weren't one of the best shows ever (and it was), they had to go and make the best holiday special in... the... WORLD! I don't even *like* Christmas, and yet this Special was and is dear to my heart. Now that I own Kiki's Delivery Service (shut up), I think that Pee Wee's Playhouse will be my next DVD purchase. According to Amazon, it's not out until November.
Until then...
"That was Cher! Cher was right over there! In the same room as my chair! I hope I didn't stare! Oh well! I don't care!"
"Now I'm going to make an angel in the snow. If you don't have snow at home, just use 80 pounds of coconut shavings!"
"If God had wanted me to ice skate I would have been born with skinny feet and a little head." - Little Richard
"I'm not promising you anything, Whoopi."
Posted by ashley at 12:08 PM | TrackBack
September 08, 2004
47: Serena, "crackhead puke" and that koala photo.
"I pretty much dug my own grave and got in, pretty much covered myself up with the dirt."
Fashion, fury, and unexpected gloom. This is why I love Serena.
In other news, New York has been crippled by rain this morning. Office productivity reaching new lows! I'll update later if/when I find myself more alert and entertaining. In the meantime, tide yourself over with these:
And because the "crackhead puke" thing was such a hit...
"I saw Billy Idol about 6 years ago getting out of limo and I yelled "Billy Idol!!" at him, in case maybe he forgot. He gave me a thumbs up."
Posted by ashley at 10:23 AM | TrackBack
August 25, 2004
39: Area Girl Claims 2004 Summer Olympics Officially "Over"
You know, I'm really looking forward to the Summer Olympics starting.
It seems like whenever I turn on the tv, they're showing some kind of sports-themed disaster happening somewhere in Europe. You know, that show where the judges arbitrarily give scores out and see what the crowd thinks of them. If the crowd hates it, they change it, no biggie! And people are running around in tutus and stuff. It's pretty entertaining but it's no match for the Olympics... hey, wait a minute!
Ugh. I am done with the Olympics. D-O-N-E.
I wasn't sold on it at first but after a few days, I was getting into it. I was learning to ignore the empty stands and the sense that the people in charge were actually not in charge. Of anything. I shrugged off the feeling that I was witnessing failure at every turn, missed opportunities to have done an awesome job instead of an almost acceptable one.
Then Athens was visited by a member of the world's most elite, dedicated and crafty terrorist group -- the Golden Palace online casino. What the heck is that all about?! Is this one of the most prestigious global athletic competitions in our lifetime or is it a freaking joke?
As for Paul Hamm's problem, I'm not sure why it's become *his* problem and not someone on the judges' side. It's not his fault there was a judging error, it's not as if he picks out the scores. Either the judges stand by their decision or they compensate the athlete they mistakenly failed to recognize as the winner.
Ugh. The Olympics is dead to me. I'm glad we get to see a few minutes of the athletes performing in between long commercial breaks in which the same athletes hawk cellular phone service.
Geez.
Posted by ashley at 10:24 AM | TrackBack
August 19, 2004
35: Cooler than the otherside of the pillow!
Maybe Kitajima was a sore loser, maybe he even used a dolphin kick when he shouldn't have. In any event, he can screech like a pterodactyl and last night he swam in such a way that let the world know: "My name is Kosuke Kitajima, and YOU JUST GOT SERVED!"
But the real star is Paul Hamm. Just as I worried about the interior of Shoshi's car when I saw that she meant to leave a box full of canned sodas unattended in the backseat during extreme weather, I thought Paul Hamm's fall could "RUIN EVERYTHING!" Summoning up his twin-power, he laid the gymnastic smack down. He returned from 12th place (!) to win gold. His message to the world: "How you like me NOW?!"
Posted by ashley at 09:45 AM | TrackBack
August 18, 2004
33: I GOT NO GEL!
I don't need to hear about how you're tired of reality television, about how angry it makes you that you can't avoid it when you turn on your set. I don't actually believe that you're as disgusted as you claim to be, and what are you mourning anyway? Is it such a heartbreak that there are fewer sass-mouthed sitcom families with problems easily solved between commercials for Dentyne Ice?
Even more annoying that any of these self-praising lies is the pseudo-academic junk about how we're obsessed with watching our own lives and how the best entertainment is the mirror we turn on ourselves. What? Where do you get that from? That's not to say that a show about me wouldn't be infinitely interesting to, say, me. But I digress...
Actual reality programming would be horrifying! And where would you get sponsors for a program about babies in Third World countries dying, or a mini-series about at-risk kids in the US being failed by their local child services departments? And would you watch either? TV is bad for you, and you like to poison yourself with something entertaining, mindless, and miles away from reality. You want "reality television."
I have no need for Survivor or 90% of the non-reality we call "reality tv." I don't need hokey gameshows, people eating bugs, fools thinking they've found love, or Donald Trump's hair. What I need and love is the type of reality programming that gives me a view into the lives of celebrities. I want to judge their lives, their parenting skills, and their taste in decor.
It's like someone Up There was listening to my prayers, and they gave the world "Growing Up Gotti."
How can I describe this show? Awesome. I don't mean "gnarly" or "rad," I mean "What planet are these people from?" They live in a painfully white, faux-classical palace lorded over by the closest thing to Donatella Versace the New York area will ever produce. The kids are ill behaved, spoiled and seemingly unable to speak English. Perhaps time that could have been used to instruct these boys in any social graces was simply devoted to the painstaking grooming of their eyebrows.
I can't help but like Victoria Gotti. She has a heart condition, a lot of couture, and a fondness for chocolate. A blind date offends her and she storms home to throw his flowers into her yard like they were a Molotov cocktail. As shocked as I am by her bluntness (and her hair!), it's difficult to not like her. She's the new Sharon Osbourne!
Her kids are bewildering, I am continually amazed by their poor behavior and incoherent speech. (The new Osbourne kids!) But the most incredible thing about them is their hair product usage. Perhaps hair gel does not product the globally disastrous holes in the ozone layer like an aerosol can, but nothing good can come from the excessive product-usage going on in that house. I must know what sort of shampoo these kids use to counter product buildup in their hair. Is it citrus-based? And why do they want to look like Dragonball Z characters?
Clearly this hair gel is the work of THE DEVIL!
Is the show, therefore, evil? Maybe. But either way, it’s AWESOME!
Posted by ashley at 12:29 PM | TrackBack
August 16, 2004
31: "The dogs were bigger than the children!"
Before I tell you how friggin' awesome San Francisco is, I have to address an issue which is evidently so important that the Times decided it needed to be on today's front page...
___________________________________
August 16, 2004
Student Chic Is Remaking Itself, Trading Grunge for Cable Knit
By TRACIE ROZHON
Last year, Benjamin Spoer, a college sophomore in Berkeley, Calif., was just another grungy teenager, with his long hair, dirty jeans and favorite black T-shirt with a gory red bird on the front. Now he is transformed. He has cut his hair, and in a couple of weeks, he plans to go shopping for some blue button-down shirts.
He threw the bird T-shirt away.
"The guys at school used to come to class in T-shirts with four-letter words on them,'' he said. "Now they wear clothes from Gap and American Eagle. Since grunge is starting to fade away, they're going with what's out there.''
Maybe young people are getting more sophisticated, or maybe they are just getting bored. But from kindergarten to college, America's students are cleaning up their acts. And while they do not generally want their fall fashions to be labeled "preppy" - they insist they are putting their own twist on the look - they say styles are definitely getting simpler.
Goth is also out. The numbers have plummeted at Hot Topic, a clothing chain that was the darling of the spooky, blood-and-darkness Goth crowd. American Eagle Outfitters, meanwhile, whose figures fell as Hot Topic's rose, is suddenly soaring, with its stripped-down, cleaned-up khakis flying out the door; July sales were 22 percent higher than they were last year. And Polo Ralph Lauren, whose expensive children's clothes are the epitome of prep, just reported that profits more than doubled from a year ago.
Sewell Robinson, 15, from Stonington, Conn., said that many, if not most, of her classmates have kissed grunge goodbye. "That punk look is going away, all those bracelets up the arm. Black and pink is out, and those shirts that say, 'Funky Monkey,' " she said. "Now it's clean-cut, like looking 'nice' for the day.
"Merchants call the new style "classic" or "retro" - just not "contemporary," which now translates as too baggy or too tight, too low-slung and too low-cut.
Students are "taking themselves a little more seriously; they're thinking a little more of the image they're projecting," said John D. Morris, a retail analyst who holds focus groups with teenagers in malls around the country. "It's a backlash to what was sexy, what was distressed or dirty or grungy. Now they say that look is too affected."
In case that sounds too Pollyanna-ish to believe, another analyst is hearing the same thing from students, but with a subtext that suggests their motives are more refined - and more manipulative.
"This year's kids seem much more sophisticated, savvy,'' said Marshal Cohen, chief researcher with the NPD Group in Port Washington, N.Y., "and they are telling their parents they'll buy this preppy stuff because it will last three or four years - and then arguing that with the extra money the parents will save, they can buy them high-speed Internet for $40 a month. Or maybe a digital camera."
Mr. Morris agrees that there is more wheeling and dealing going on. "It's all about responsibility this season,'' he said. "They'll argue that a cellphone is justified for security reasons. And they will say they need to have access to the Internet; that it is required for schoolwork."
With that kind of maturity, who wants cleavage?
Michael Wood, the vice president of Teenage Research Unlimited in Northbrook, Ill., said the young people he surveys say they are simply sick of what is in their closets. "They're notoriously fickle," Mr. Wood said, "and they've moved on to something new. The last several years, necklines and waists were going lower and lower and showing more and more skin, and they realized you can't go any lower or show any more. The pendulum swung."
Although the preppy look may seem old hat to many parents, Mr. Wood, who said he surveyed teenagers daily, said that it is fresh to young people, who may think they "discovered" the style in thrift shops. Like other pollsters and merchants, Mr. Wood said that few teenagers would do preppy head-to-toe. "They'll wear the polo shirts with the collars turned up, with the surf or skate, or both, in a smorgasbord of styles."
Indeed, turned-up collars seem to be in vogue again - even turned-up jacket collars.
On Thursday, Nathan Watters, 19, from St. Louis, stood on a SoHo street corner and modeled his latest purchase: a charcoal gray corduroy blazer he had just bought at French Connection for $168. "I just pop the collar - like this,'' he said, posing for a photographer. Jeans are still big, he added, as his three friends nodded. "Cut is still O.K., but neat,'' he said.
His friend Jessica Mantel, also 19, added, "You're paying a fortune for clothing, so it might as well look good, instead of torn.''
At Old Navy, students - from grammar school on up - are layering striped and solid T-shirts and taking last year's camisoles and covering them with $39.50 corduroy blazers. Did the store even sell blazers last year? "Not at all," said Sheryl Clark, senior vice president for merchandising. "For last year's back-to-school, it was, How many pockets can you get on a cargo pant? This year, it's, How few can you put on?"
Blazers are also big at J. Crew, which offers a "schoolboy" navy blazer for girls. And it may seem hard to believe, but this summer, merchants have started selling oxford-cloth shirtwaist dresses and Peter Pan-collared blouses. Can circle pins and penny loafers be far behind?
At J. Crew, the chief executive, Millard Drexler, spoke about revamping what had become a stale brand. While some other merchants play down their preppiness, J. Crew revels in it. "We're over the top," Mr. Drexler said, laughing.
This summer, J. Crew started selling patch-madras jackets. Now it has introduced "critter" pants embroidered with dogs and geese. And rubber "Wellies" printed with bumblebees, Scotties and hunting dogs. And an argyle sweater the color of a new-mown lawn.
As a consequence of its extreme preppiness, J. Crew said, its sales jumped 25 percent in July, including catalog and Internet sales.
Eleanor Killian, a 16-year-old high school sophomore from Washington, D.C., cannot get enough of the embroidered animals. She also buys cable-knit sweaters in multiple colors, labeling them "classy and appropriate.''
While rejecting the word "preppy," Christopher Heyn, president of Nautica Sportswear and Nautica Jeans, defined the company's clean-cut image. "One of our fall collections is called Cambridge," he said. "The other is called Academy. See where we're going with this?" This fall, he said, khaki orders were up 50 percent over last fall.
At J. C. Penney, too, the prep look is driving sales. "Plaid is exploding," said David Hacker, trend director for women's and girls' clothing, explaining that the fashion contributed to Penney's standout showing last month.
Crocheted ponchos and short skirts are a big part of the retro back-to-school business at Lord & Taylor, said the chief executive, Jane Elfers, "particularly three-tier knitted skirts, sometimes with shorts underneath - they're called scooters.'' And even children are begging for so-called premium jeans, those costing $50 or more, she said.
Young people are telling researchers that they are, specifically, off tacky celebrities.
"Kids are really asking themselves who do we want our role models to be," said C. Britt Beemer, chairman of America's Research Group in Charleston, S.C. In his surveys, he found that more children were shopping with their parents than in the last three years.
To Sewell Robinson, the teenager from Stonington, Conn., some of the move toward the cleaner-cut may not be a matter of choice. "A lot of schools are getting stricter dress codes," she said. "At school, the boys have to wear shirts with collars and nice clean pants." Even in schools without dress codes, she said, students are influenced by the trend.
Not surprisingly, that makes parents happy.
Danelle Morton, Ben Spoer's mother, said she was delighted when he finally let her buy him a blue blazer, khaki pants and a white shirt to replace the Goth T-shirt he had worn "three to five times a week,'' she said. A few years ago, she said, "he wouldn't have gone anywhere near that stuff."
According to Mr. Cohen of NPD, parents will spend about $485 this year for their children's back-to-school needs -virtually the same as last year - but the children are demanding more than just clothes. Spending on gadgets will increase; this year, 45 percent of parents and their children said they would buy electronics for back-to-school, up from 38 percent a year ago.
"This year, their spending will be more diversified, on things like cellphones and Internet connections," Mr. Cohen said. "That's why stores like Hot Topic, Abercrombie & Fitch and Wet Seal have had such disastrous months. Kids are not so motivated by fashion anymore.
"But not all parents are willing to spring for a cellphone.
"I tried to get one,'' said Clair Bartholomew, 13, of Nashville, just leaving the American Eagle store in New York City. "My parents said I'm not getting one till I'm 16."
___________________________________
Where to begin?
First -- I am not certain that this is news-worthy information. I am, however, certain that it didn't need such a prominent place in one of the world's most-read newspapers. I am also certain that this article is crap.
By the way, did they perhaps intend to publish this several years ago and just get around to running it this morning? Perhaps a better headline would be "Teens Give into Peer Pressures and Materialistic Desires." Would that ever be news? Yeah right!
Second -- The author is comparing apples and oranges here.
J. Crew is a staple of predictable, conservative, and over-priced clothing for teens and adults. Hot Topic caters to the mall goth set, selling cheap accessories and cheesy faux-retro t-shirts. An inexpensive vinyl wallet decorated with a hot-rod flame motif should not be confused with a cashmere sweater so expensive that it unless it were Christmas and you were a good kid, you might not get it. I'm not defending Hot Topic, by the way. Hot Topic is an abomination, but it is an entirely different retail operation than J. Crew or American Eagle.
Just because Hot Topic is not doing well, it does not necessarily mean that its normal customer base has switched to J. Crew or American Eagle. And what parent takes their kid to Hot Topic for back-to-school shopping anyway? There's nothing in there but Zippo lighters and wallet chains.
Likewise, it's poor logic to assume that because kids are shopping more frequently in the company of their parents, it means those kids are looking to their parents for guidance or to act as "role models," thereby replacing celebrities. Kids always have and always will be celebrity-obsessed. What kind of "goth" role model ever influenced the purchases of the majority of America's teens anyway? None!
What kind of research went into this article?! Kids shop with parents because parents carry credit cards. Attempting to legitimize the cost of back-to-school shopping at J. Crew requires white lies about the usefulness of the desired expensive clothing. It's just another way teens continue to be manipulative, calculating and selfish little twerps. Your dorkwad kid has not suddenly developed taste and "class;" he's just jerking you around because you're the one who can help him afford the meaningless material goods he feels he requires to keep up with other kids.
Anyway, these kids weren't into an sort of "rock" scene anyway. This J. Crew situation is just another trend, illustrating perfectly that kids are as fashion-focused as ever.
And don't you dare use the word "goth." That's an us-and-them situation, and it's more defined by what it isn't than what it is. And further more it's a dirty word, particularly among the cognoscenti. Unless you have the right credentials, don't go throwing it around like you know what's what. I don't have the time or energy to get into telling you all the many reasons why you shouldn't mistake a 13-year-old's owning an Evanescence cd for being "goth." Mistake that for nothing other than being 13, watching too much tv, and being a moron.
In any event, this article ignores the campy, soulless attempts of pop-rockers and wannabes such as Ashlee Simpson. What teen-oriented celebrity isn't trying to dress in some combination of casual preppiness and "rock"? How oblivious can you be? Please!
This article is a shame. Thankfully, it stops short of calling this trend something positive, as if the grand teenage tradition of being selfish and frivolous should be rewarded simply because it manages (for now) to fit the school dress code. What does a 13-year-old need with a cellphone anyway? Attempting to dress like an adult does not make you an adult, but right now it's helping teens imagine they were. Is this good? Nope. Was it so bad when kids dressed to affect an air of rebellion and interest? Maybe it wasn't sincere, but how sincere or legitimate can your rebellion be when you watch TRL? Is it better that kids should dress to express their obvious need to acquire the material wealth they see others have?
If your 13-year-old is confused about her place in life, please allow me to drag her across the floor of your local Food Court by her chunky highlights and remind her.
Posted by ashley at 09:35 AM | TrackBack
August 03, 2004
27: Don't forget to bring a towel!
My instincts were right -- the iPod must be connected underneath the cube. Unfortunately this means tipping the cube in a direction that, for some reason, shuts the cube off. Due to the position of the cube on the desk, the height of the desk, and other seemingly trivial details, connecting the iPod to the cube was not easily accomplished. In order to see underneath the cube without tipping it to the point that it would turn off, I had to put my head upside down on the desk. After turning off the computer twice, nearly drooling on myself, and bonking my head on the lamp, the iPod was good to go.
The difficulty of this process makes adding new music or changing my playlists a bit unattractive, but far less than the realization that once I had all of this music in my hand, I was bored with it. Perhaps because the little Nomad II held so little music, I was eager to put only the best things on it. Now that I can have everything in the world at my fingertips, I'm a little jaded. Well, maybe not. Maybe I'm just disappointed by the sometimes shockingly bad music I've downloaded since receiving the previous player. And by bad, I mean, it's still better than what you have on your player. So... you know, back off. Now that I've figured the iPod out, I'm one step closer to mp3 nirvana. The state of bliss, not the band.
Already I feel a change in myself, or at least in the way I'm perceived. Now I must be even more annoying when I walk down the street because not only am I trying to quickly get around your lumbering, fat and semi-mobile carcass, I'm doing so with an expensive, image-conscious mp3 player. I even have the white earphones you hope will break so I'm forced to use the $10 Panasonic ones you're using. (Of course, you don't know how well I know those cheaper earphones; you don't know that I've successfully destroyed thousands and thousands of pairs of earphones with the aid of car keys and other sharp objects I tote around in my handbag). And you hate me. You hate my yuppie guts. You hope I trip, or that I at least have to wait at the crosswalk and be reminded that I'm no better than anyone else.
Of course, you'd be wrong, and just because I notice doesn't mean I care. Yes, I am in possession of this mp3 player. Yes, the white earphones still work. And yes, I am trying to navigate my way around your slow-moving mass.
But I deserve all of this! I listen to music constantly, I care about music in a way you probably don't. I didn't buy an iPod because I'm a yuppie sheep; it was gifted to me by a fashionable older brother who understands how much I would appreciate this player. Do you think you deserve it any more than I do? No, because if you had it, you'd just stuff it full of Maroon 5! And you walk really slowly and without any regard for anyone or anything around you!
Aside from all these things, you're totally ignoring the fact that this iPod is not...
It's more like...
Ahh... I'm kidding. My point is only that I see you getting annoyed with me, and you've got no reason to be.
I'm not the one moseying down the middle of the sidewalk like some giant trained bear. And I'm certainly not listening to G-Unit.
Posted by ashley at 09:45 AM | TrackBack
August 02, 2004
26: the iPod
Here's an update, kids.
For the record, my hair still looks killer. That said, I appreciate the support I've been getting lately.
The weekend got off to a rocky start when I received word that this blog is not so much "pink" as it is "red." Unacceptable. Totally unacceptable. Don't sweat it though, this will be fixed ASAP. Just calm down. Everything's going to be fine.
You have more important things to worry about.
Like the fact that I now possess an iPod.
Chris has given me, again, the gift of music.
My previous mp3 player came to me as a Christmas gift, and despite some recent glitches in its performance, my little Nomad II has served me well. It gave me hours of joy, and what did I give it in return? Well, I gave it a face full of pavement about a week ago. I caught the earphones on my belt and the player flew out of my hand. It shot into space and crashed back to Earth right where Park meets 30th. It splintered into a million pieces and passersby stopped to see if I were foolish enough to dart into the intersection in an attempt to rescue my little friend. I was. It's not been the same since, but I knew our time together was drawing to a close. It had been acting up in the past two or three months, stopping in the middle of songs, shutting off, or turning on at random. In hindsight, its voyage into the middle of a busy intersection was not an accident but a thwarted suicide attempt. That mp3 player wants to die! It's ready to move onto its reward. Unfortunately, that reward is being thrown into a drawer full of unused cables and adaptors.
Chris gave me his iPod and an incredible amount of music, perhaps in return for being such an awesome little sister for the past 24+ years. Perhaps because I have such a winning personality, incredible wit, and awesome eyebrows. And with the iPod came a ton of pirated music that I might browse through and JUDGE, were it not for the fact that I can't manage to operate the thing.
I'm not sure I can be trusted with something so delicate and sensitive. I'll only drop it or throw it into the street! Maybe it will meet with the same fate that took countless cd players before it! In a Sainsbury's in London, I once dropped a cd player as I left the checkout. It survived the first drop but definitely not the second one, which tragically happened only seconds later! The cashier sighed and shook his head as I scraped up the pile that was my cd player and ran outside to bury my shame in a trashcan. I can't be trusted with these things. Shortly after that incident, I accidentally dropped my cell phone at the top of a flight of concrete stairs. Rather than picking it up, I some how managed to kick the phone down the stairs. Perhaps because I was a bit tipsy, the confusion of the whole event required me to have a sit before trying to retrieve it. Some how the phone survived, but could an iPod? I think not.
The iPod clearly has a thirst for destruction. I can see that much already. As soon as I have its inexplicably circular earphones in my ears, I am unable to see anything around me. All of my energies are focused on the player, I find myself unwittingly walking into traffic, nearly falling off subway platforms, crashing into pedestrians, meeting scaffolding with my face. Something bad will come to the iPod just as something bad will come to me. Together, we blindly charge towards death -- nothing in our minds but a faint concern over skipping to the next song.
Before that happens, the iPod and I have unfinished business. I was unable to switch Chris's music for my own because I couldn't figure out how to attach the player to the cube at home. When I attempted to lift the cube to see what was underneath, it shut off and I gave up. In doing so, I may have given the iPod and myself another day of life. Tomorrow, we may walk headfirst into oncoming traffic – let us listen to awesome music until then.
Amen.
Posted by ashley at 03:48 PM | TrackBack
July 21, 2004
24: "Silence is his wisdom!"
I don't know what's worse -- a weak television show of the "reality" type or a weak television show that attempts, and very blatantly fails, to be of the "reality" type.
"The Casino" is brought you by Fox (surprise!), and sells itself as a behind-the-scenes view of Las Vegas' Golden Nugget. Maybe I'm wrong and Fox is brilliantly thumbing its nose at the reality TV genre. Maybe they're deliberately starting a dialogue about what reality television is and is not. Should I give praise to the geniuses at Fox for giving us this witty, postmodern examination of current television trends and our collective fascination with watching ourselves? Or, have they simply staged every single scene of this show in an artless attempt to make it interesting? How boring can life at the Golden Nugget be that Fox had to make things up just to get us through this painful 60 minutes? Bless all the sponsors because without commercial breaks, this experience might really be unbearable.
Your guides through this wasteland are Tom and Zack, virtually interchangeable entities except that one is heavy and the other is not. I love the moment where they're trying to get their gaming license (or something) and they're audibly fantasizing about how the committee reviewing their application will "grill" them about their "known associates." What? Please! They evidently know Agassi, who makes an appearance at some point. Clearly Tom and Zack are running with a dangerous crowd! But when Tom and Zack aren't busy patting themselves on the back with fantasies of scandal and notoriety, they're occupied with being rich guys. Who are they, anyway? They're dot com guys still living in the 90's and they're throwing money at their Swingers-inspired dream.
Perhaps they should hire someone with experience or, alternately, taste. They aspire to make the Golden Nugget into something Rat Pack cool, and yet they haven't done a thing to achieve it. They bought some "phat daddy caddies" to transport VIP guests to the casino, and yet they seem to be entirely from the wrong decade. Good job, guys! Then they hire a lounge singer (his cd is hawked during commercial breaks) who is too good for this situation. I'm not kidding. He should run away and not look back. They take the best thing they have going, the singer, and attempt to ruin it completely by putting him under the control of their ill-suited entertainment manager. Not only does this entertainment guy seem more appropriate to a middle school gym than a casino, he manages to turn the singer's act into a classless karaoke night for local gaming officials. The singer is right to be upset. They have him working in what appears to be part dinner theater/part airport bar, and they're making a mockery of his legitimate stage show. Fools!
But, hands down, the most infuriating aspect of the show is the fantasy world Tom and Zack live in. They run around like buffoons, overstepping bounds of anything even approximating professionalism, and they'd embarrass themselves if they seemed at all able to comprehend the ridiculousness of their situation. And this all happening within the Fox construct of staged scenes tied together to make a "reality program." Weird! But Tom and Zack aren't concerned with the authenticity of their television show, nor are they concerned about not looking foolish. No, because it's time to race luxury cars to work like a pair of dolts! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum are too busy giving Freud something to chew on, tooling around in sportscars and throwing cash around like they're getting in on the ground floor of some ultimately doomed Internet venture. They're not worried -- there's no tomorrow, not unless the writers at Fox have scripted one!
Posted by ashley at 10:16 AM
May 18, 2004
18: May 18th, 1980
Posted by ashley at 10:23 AM
April 22, 2004
13: Dear Posh,
I'm so sorry I missed your birthday -- I meant to call! It's just that things around here have been really hectic lately, but I do hope you got my card.
I'm so glad to see you were able to do something to mark the occasion, and I want you to know that if you ever need to talk, I'm here.
Love,
Ashley
Posted by ashley at 09:39 AM
April 14, 2004
12: For the record
FYI: It is not OK to wear Uggs as all-weather boots, especially not in the rain. In fact, it's not a good idea to wear them just walking around in the city in any kind of weather. They get dirty and you don't know how clean them. You have to buy stuff to clean them -- it's not worth it! Also, they have the potential to make your legs look thick and gross. Never a good thing. And they offer no arch support, and you can't see yourself from behind (which everyone else can) but it looks really bad. Your feet totally roll in and you look terrible. Especially when your Uggs are so dirty!
Uggs are over, anyway.
It's not cool to wear Uggs. Especially not in the rain.
I pronouce them DONE. Buy some real boots, you dolt.
Posted by ashley at 04:26 PM