Friday, July 15, 2011

pit bulls in black and white, or, more reasons to be in love . . .

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grr always gives us "the look" :
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avec needs to sleep ON you :
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they compete for your attention :
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and you never seem to care that you always let them both win :
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Thursday, July 14, 2011

june into july . . . details and detritus in picture form . . .

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my husband was just named the head of ecommerce for love culture,
a booming fashion brand based here in l.a.
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as a result, 
we traveled up to sf 
and moved all his world back down into ours.
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after a year and half,
it's a huge relief to have him home full time,
not just on weekends.
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here i am,
in front a mural in the mission district,
waiting for tim to get the shot
before we get our tacos from La Taqueria.
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the angels,
fast asleep.
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gay pride in sf,
at zuni cafe,
with nicki and gang.
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gay pride in l.a.
at wonderland,
wondering if i'm just "over" the whole circuit crowd thing.
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excellent advice from a placemat.
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my first photo reblogged on tumblr.
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Tuesday, July 12, 2011

LANDIS ON THE STREETS (of nyc.)

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some of my favorite moments,
taken by my personal papparazzi,
tim :
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taking public transportation.
major breakthrough.
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at the entrance to the mcqueen store,
meatpacking district :
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waiting for mat and bryan outside the soho house :
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heading to mcqueen through lower manhattan :
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ten minutes later,
donut for the hangover :
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a piece of art,
a personal motto,
a nyc moment :
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Monday, July 11, 2011

FASHION TRANSCENDS : moments from McQueen at the Met



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on the edge of central park 
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even the met's posters seemed to portend the experience
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the museum where i took yoga as a child,
and wrote poetry in classes in the medieval rooms
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hosts alexander mcqueen's work,
a personal hero of mine.
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i literally cried from the first room,
where the mannequins were more like creatures,
speaking of his mind and mourning his loss:
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the "oyster" gown from the shipwreck collection,
made from 260 yards of circular cut chiffon. 
a victorian bride,
beached by alexander's imagination.
one of my favorite gowns ever,
live,
before me:
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the accessories room was a treasure box of oddities,
each more sculptural than the last:
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scottish nationalism,
rape and royalty,
all rolled together.
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you were NOT supposed to take pictures.
but how could i resist?
the details alone called out to be captured!
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rumored to be the last design he touched before he took his life,
gold hand painted duck feathers.
if you see the divine, must you leave?
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from a mind like this, came such great beauty:
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