can't stop. won't stop.

can't stop. won't stop.

as previously blogged, i was at glass and stereo on wednesday night til the wee hours. below, the hijinks that ensued.

















thursday i went to a motorola party after work, at a great space called the xchange. finger food and drinks, plus a brand-new Q, which, while fancy and new fangled, is not as pretty or as small as my beloved pebl.








someone on 28th street has a freaking bungalow that faces the hudson river. does anyone know what this is? a photo studio? a home? i need info. and keys.



next up was the yo! mtv raps puma party at classic kicks. music was by the legendary evil dee and he really turned it out. if you loved old school hip-hop, you were in heaven. das efx, nice and smooth, odb, rakim, all the classics. i worship at the altar of evil dee. dancing in the sneaker store was one of the highlights of my summer. plus, they were giving out free fat laces!











the afterparty was at rewind, and we picked up the architect/interior design posse on the way. the architecture people were all wearing black.









somehow i got up at 6am the next day to meet my brother in bryant park for the pharrell/kanye mini concert for GMA. i wish i could say i wasn't one of the girls screaming or sighing everytime skateboard p spoke or took off his sunglasses or lifted his shirt. he's such a fox.









my brother and i overheard this conversation:

teenage girl on cell phone: i don't owe her two dollars! she didn't have to buy me no metrocard, i got my own metrocard! why she tryin to say i owe her money? i bought a snapple. that was a dollar fifty. no, in this neighborhood, a snapple is a dollar fifty. well i don't know but i know i don't owe her no two dollars. i only have five dollars and i am not giving her no two dollars.

i hope she had a friends and family plan, otherwise the call was costing her more than two dollars.

moving along.

king t also met me at bryant park. then we walked through times square, had breakfast at the edison and then a pedicure... all this before noon.











i also overheard this conversation near the sean jean store on 5th ave:

girl #1: why you always pointing out white boys to me?
girl #2: you said you liked justin timberlake types.
girl #1: the only thing that boy has in common with justin timberlake is skin color.

later i met my mom and sister for soho shopping and a graffiti tour of the lower east side.
to be honest, i'm exhausted just thinking about all this.









as always, more later.

hot links

hot links of the day

phone home

tim gunn bobble head (via fashion week daily)

visual conversations

...but you can dance to it



mmmm. shoe bbq.

VIP - drinks on me

things started out so innocently.

yes, it was hot. unprecedented heat.

but i was wearing shorts and red heels and i'd just come from the apple store, where a cute smarty-pants at the genius bar replaced my brain-damaged iPod.

so i went to dinner at employees only and the gentleman with the twisty mustache winked at me and complimented my shoes.

and i had a couple of fraise sauvages, and my ladies met me after dinner and we had a few more drinks, then ended up at the cowgirl hall of fame and someone ordered corn dogs, then we somehow ended up at brite bar where a dude wanted to check our IDs.

ms. h said, "don't you think we're over 21?" and he replied "i don't give a shit." RUDE RUDE RUDE RUDE.

we turned around and walked out and hit glass, and i was glad because the music was better, the people were nicer, i saw my friend casimir, and we danced to the new justin timbaland single. i'll let you whip me if i misbehave, indeed.

and so more champagne, and more dancing, and then over to stereo for the aNYthing party... the DJ dropped OPP and the crowd went wild.

i got home after 2am.

and today?

my head hurts, my feet hurt and my pedicure is ruined.

happy thursday.

pretty little thing, hot little thing

from my brazilliant friend Matt:

It's The DaVinci Code meets American Pie! college humor has just posted a humorous extract from a longer story I'm writing about the not-so-miraculous teenage son of Jesus Christ and Mary Magdalene. The actual story is slightly more serious and sadder than this excerpt, but until then... here are the Biblical sex jokes!
Please check it out if you get a chance. Thanks!

the lost blog of jesus christ jr

in other news, the iTunes free download of the week or month or whatever is "pretty little thing"* by Fink.

the pitch-perfect track for these sweltering hot days.
deceptively simple.
jam-packed with burning desire and yearning.
seductive and sexy.
my new favorite song until otherwise announced.


cause when you walked by
you know every guy
noticed
the way that your dress
clings on for the ride...

all my boys say
she's the type to
fake it
i ain't sayin' nothin'

she couldn't care less
wearing that dress

pretty little thing
hot little thing
hot little thing
and knows it

*option click to DL!

are you living your life to its fullest?

i often say that i think i am part raven or crow or magpie.

family corvidae.

i CANNOT look away from shiny objects, even in magazines.

i see silver bags, shoes and jewelry and i get hypnotized.

i'm on page 93 of the august issue of elle magazine right now, looking at a page of silver accessories, including the new mirrored LV bag.

my pupils are spiralling.

so anyway.

here's something to think about: what are you afraid of?

i think i have atychiphobia. but who doesn't?

a photographer friend offered to photograph me, and suggested i start collecting images i like the look/feel of, so he could get an idea of what would make me happy. for whatever reason, the first two people who came to mind were thandie newton and monica bellucci.

friend: why?
me: eyes, mostly. but also strength... neither of them are like, "oh look at me i'm a pretty little girl."it's more like "i am a woman and you may photograph me but you may not touch or ever really know me..."
sexy but defensive. "fuck you," not "fuck me."

as i was typing to him i realized what an interesting little pop psychology quiz it was.
what i'd revealed. what i wanted my picture to say about me, what i wanted him to think about me.

anywho.
i'd love to be photographed by ellen von unwerth. just looks like fun fun fun.

or maybe i just like high contrast black and white.

yo ho ho and a bottle of sapphire

ahoy!

avast ye scallywags, landlubbers and scurvy dogs.

i took the time at work yesterday to apply glitter to my eye patch.

later i headed out for the pirate party...

in the spirit of the season's new "skinny jeans" i was wearing tight pants for the first time in a long time.

pants so tight you could see my entire shoe.

pants so tight that the world was my gynecologist.

pants so tight i needed a friend and a box cutter to get them off.

and yet. no walkin' the plank, matey, ye must hold fast, savvy?

behold the high - or possibly low - lights of a pirate's life.