The Wang mobile stops for a snack.
Last night on 14th Street and 8th Avenue, I saw the elusive vehicle that’s driving around Manhattan projecting images of Alexander Wang’s new ad campaign on the side of buildings. I found myself mere steps from the magical Wang mobile making the images appear in such a fashion, and its driver, the ‘stached crusader.
Giambattista Valli, fall 2012 couture.
1. Your wedding. Few gowns could say “I love you because you love me just the way I am” better than this one.
2. The bedding department at Bed, Bath, & Beyond. Lie face down on one of the linen-display beds with your head face-down, and when people touch you or sit on you, you can start moving and say “IT’S ALIVE!”
3. My house. My little fluffy black cat would look AMAZING sitting on that thing. Then she’d probably knead her claws into it because she’s a cat, and would have the attitude, “It’s not like I don’t do this to couture every day.”
4. The grocery store. YES.
“According to a study, many winemakers have been deliberately and ‘systematically’ understating the alcohol content of their wines on the labels.” And now all those times girls barfed in cabs, passed out in showers, fell asleep in their down jackets before making it out the door, and slept with the wrong people makes a little more sense. [Jezebel]
The surface of the perfectly turquoise water is upset by large, freckled bricks of sunburned human flesh. There they stand, waist-high in the distance, grouped in clumps, their bellies hanging over their red and blue swim trunks, their backs puckering over the strings holding their triangle tops precariously in place. Intermittently, they belly flop onto the surface, as though they had purpose but weren’t quick or caring enough to move themselves from point a to point b, as they bobbed facedown in the water. Each colony of flesh bricks operates as though encased in an invisible net, like a fisherman’s catch, tethered by invisible rope to the boat that deposited them there. More boats pull up, another net of humans is cast into the sea, the humans are dispersed, and their fun begins. Supposedly.
In minutes, I will join the clumsy tribes flopping about in the distance. I cannot identify with them (our companions in the van on the way to the boat were talking, in all seriousness, about the previous night’s Republican presidential debate) other than our purpose, which today, right now, is the same: swim with stingrays.
Three girls are sitting in an apartment at 10:32 one Friday night, watching the Britney Spears Live From Las Vegas DVD (filmed November 18, 2001). GIRL 1 is a former model, who gave up modeling — or what is for most people in the world, including those who attain average success in the business, often not the most fruitful use of time — to go to law school. Back in New York to work for the summer, she finds herself sipping rum punch with GIRL 2 and GIRL 3 in GIRL 2‘s apartment. They make admittedly terrible jokes as they ponder the meaning of Britney’s neon splatter-painted pleather trench coats, and discuss Life before they are tipsy enough to face New York City’s creatures of the nightclubs.
GIRL 1
I worry about Dee. Her friends are so bitchy to her.
GIRL 2
What the hell, man. Why? She’s so nice to everyone. Didn’t she even clean up the shit a houseguest left in her laundry basket one time when he couldn’t hold it because he’s an idiot? Continue reading
Thank you for visiting my Disco Pineapple blog! I mostly write about fashion, but my interests most definitely do not stop there. What really gets me off in life, is anything that is funny or amusing in some… fashion.
Oh yeah, you’ll have to forgive all my bad puns moving forward. I love bad puns. If you like good ones, I suggest you spend some time here.
Anyway, I hope you find something on this site funny or amusing or, quite simply, worth your time.
And if you do decide reading these posts is a total waste of your time, and are a really indignant, bored sort of person, what I’ve learned from years of blogging professionally for NYmag.com is, you will just TELL me how much I suck in the comments. So do it, if you must. I’ll keep blogging, so long as I’m not super busy or get lazy.
