my husband's holy day, when timothy johnson was born, when everything began for me . . .

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people rarely understand when i tell them 

that tim was not the man i asked for,

but rather,

the man i deserved.

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i was twenty one when we met,

and i had a list of requirements,

things i "needed" in a man,

things i thought would keep me content.

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as you can imagine, the list was not working out.

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and tim was everything i did not think i wanted.

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he is kind.

he is patient.

he is loyal.

he puts me, at times, before himself.

he is funny (ok,that was on the list)

but in a completely different way than i am.

he is right brained (BIG TIME)

whereas i am left,

yet he has the greatest sensitivity to color and space,

and the finest taste in design i have ever encountered.

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i'm drifting.

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today is his birthday,

the day he was born and somehow,

found his way out of that tiny michigan city

to chicago,

to a club called shelter,

to me.

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and he saw through the long hair and the club kid,

and drove me around that snowy city in his big gray car,

and waited for me to settle into

understanding

of what love

could be.

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larger than a list.

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longer than my imagination.

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enduring,

without reasons.

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when he was put here,

i know it wasn't just for me.

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it just feels like that.

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LANDIS & CO at the American Music Awards . . .

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in the fun but random category,

a friend recently asked my team to do a series of "red carpet makeover" segments 

for the AMA's.

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so we called in our crew,

borrowed Church boutique on santa monica for a day,

brought in the models,

and took four girls from everyday

to pop star/r&b queen/gaga/red carpet ready.

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it was a particularly crazy,

unscripted,

off the cuff pile of glamour

crossed with how-to's,

and having just seen the first cut,

i'm really happy with it.

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the promos start running soon,

and we'll be at the red carpet on sunday,

introducing and talking during the pre-show . . .

so get ready to tune in.

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fashion, apparently, IS funny.

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jo, at work on my favorite model, me.

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there's a method to the madness.

and it's pink feathers.

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luckily,

tim showed up at the end of the day to take me back home.

in my head gear.

for my own safety.

and my ego's.

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pretty things worth posting - october/november 2010

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you know the drill,

in no particular order,

some lovely things to ponder.

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moments from the lanvin sp11 runway,

where it was less about the innovation,

more about the movement,

and the moment:

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and the SHOES.

i know the models found them painful,

i know gwyneth griped about them on the red carpet

(even though she should suck it up if she gets to wear things right from runway

weeks after.  goop, my ass . . .)

they are insanely lovely creations:

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then, a motorcycle.

this is for tim.

it is not a batman prop.

it is actually a one off vintage cycle,

found in a shed in germany.

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david gandy and doutzen krouse.

genetically gifted.

hate.

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and love.

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the interior of the dries van noten store in paris,

laquered red when he found it,

he preserved the exquisite walls and added his own touches,

as only the mix-maestro can:

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flemish/kuba/sixties pop?  oui.

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some of jo strettell's favorite looks from the spring runways,

make-up edition:

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the new, very limited edition,

marc berthier designed hermes watch in titanium.

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and an old mcqueen ad.

further proof of the master's mastery of perception:

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scary and tender,

much as i imagine the man himself.

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ADVICE - detritus from the interwebs, and things your mother didn't teach you, but probably should have . . .

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the internet is full these days of sites ripe with visual offerings.

designers sharing their wares.

bloggers offering opinions.

teens sharing their shopping finds, their nudity, their thoughts.

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at times, it's too random.

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at times, the random offers up some really choice gems.

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if i've learned anything, it's that one of my biggest strengths lies in editing.

sorting through all the options,

and distilling a p.o.v.

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love it or hate it,

it's a skill.

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here are some recent posters and postings

that made me smile:

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there are several people i wanted to mail this to.

only no one reads their mail anymore.

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which is why i have always pretended to be

the version of me

i wanted.

it works.

try it.

now.

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this one you have to stick to a bit.

but it pans out in the end rather well.

self worth = commercial worth

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fabulous takeoff of the "keep calm and carry on" poster.

and i love the cary grant cool.

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um.

i have a list of people this should be sent to.

instead,

i will post it here.

moving on . . .

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amen.

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and then,

my favorite.

this goes out to my mother and sister,

both of whom could have invented this phrase.

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EN ROUTE : the perils of travel to san francisco

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during a recent trip to sf,

tim and i were delayed six hours.

due to "weather",

which typically means FOG,

in a city where fog is the norm.

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tim and i flew into chicago in the middle of full on arctic gales

with nary a bump,

but sf?

fog = total shut down.

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drives me bats.

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add a screaming child in the packed lounge

who thought it fun to climb BETWEEN the seats and run around

while his toothless mother mumbled into her cup of coffee,

well,

i was HERE:

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so, 

not to brag,

but just to make a point,

please note how i dress when i travel.

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i think this is a good point.

my mother always made us dress up when we went on a plane,

whether to london or to pennsylvania,

there was a code.

it was travel.

it was civilized.

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and yes, i love my orange bag too.

well, tim's bag,

but i co-opt it.

often.

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anyway, there i was, about to shoot something.

perhaps myself.

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finally we board.

and we are walking to the plane,

and tim turns to me,

all big eyed,

and starts nodding to the left,

saying

"get your camera get your camera get your camera".

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i mean,

really.

i feel for her,

then i see the bunion pad,

and i think

sorry, no excuses grandma.

put the feet away,

and give beyonce her bag back.

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this?

this is just a picture of hilary duff in lanvin heels with a birkin.

i'm not making a point,

i'm just soothing my eyes.

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i am oft reminded of my place in life -

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primarily,

that my desk chair is merely a place i am 

ALLOWED

to share.

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what is often waiting in the window -

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patient little bringer of peace,

trumpeter of your return,

fierce first hugger:

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we call her "avec".

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SHOPPING TIL IT HURTS : BLACKMAN CRUZ, LOS ANGELES

there is beautiful,

there is edgy,

and then there is the synthesis of the two.

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here is where the store blackman/cruz has always come in.

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they don't just find antiques,

they find objects,

items of fascination,

not precious curiousities for cabinets alone,

but things you want to touch, feel, and live with.

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there is something at times dark about their sensibility,

but it is always elegant,

always unique.

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a large fly, yes, but in bronze.

a cucumber in silver.

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the perfect posing stool,

or a lens from an old movie projector, mounted, divine!

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a ZEBRA from  a carousel,

mugshots in a line,

antique sculpting tools:

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lenses from an optical shop,

an outdoor section with a horse/tricycle:

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even antique dog collars.

all in all,

a unique world view:

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