The Girl Can't Help It

Coincidental Initial

sohardtodefine — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 00:17:51 +0000

Funny how one adjective and one initial can stop me dead in my tracks and grip my stomach. False alarm. Foolish hope.

Kansas?

sohardtodefine — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 21:39:59 +0000

I feel compelled to head West. Midwest actually.

1. I’ve just fallen in love with Buster Keaton, and upon further research learned that he was born in Kansas.

2. My heroine, Osa Johnson, whom I just read another book about, is the basis, along with her husband Martin, of a museum in Chanute, Kansas.

3. The Wizard of Oz and my girl Judy. Duh.

4. Paul motherf*n Rudd is from Kansas. If there are more men like him there, the women there have probably been keeping them secret.

I am going to start planning a road trip.

Buster

sohardtodefine — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 21:28:51 +0000

A still from College, 1927.

I don’t think there has ever been another man who could compare to Buster Keaton…

Perilous?

sohardtodefine — Tue, 10 Jan 2012 05:58:55 +0000

Well, currently I’m reading Osa and Martin: For the Love of Adventure by Kelly Enright. The first sentence on page 45 is: “They risked their lives every second of their perilous trip.” INTERESTING.

Via the HousingWorks Tumblr

Yeah Yeah Yeah*

sohardtodefine — Sun, 01 Jan 2012 04:02:40 +0000

*Happy F’n New Year.

Adopt me, Alice Carey!

sohardtodefine — Fri, 30 Dec 2011 15:55:08 +0000

Alice Carey is amazing. A few months ago I was sitting on a bench on the Highline, scribbling in my journal, and along she came. I recognized her from Ari Seth Cohen’s endlessly inspirational blog – Advanced Style. We didn’t exchange any words, but Alice certainly looked me over carefully; me in my big railroad striped overalls that I’d scored in a Monoprix in Northern France over the summer. I believe she liked my outfit. I want her to adopt me and take me shopping for vintage tweed.

If I’m not lost, how can I be found?

sohardtodefine — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 03:49:21 +0000

“At eighteen years of age, I dropped out of college and moved to New York City. It was 1989. The city was scary to me at that moment. The lower East Side seemed to have drugs sweating from its pores. Prostitutes actually walked the streets. You could see them in their fur coats and garter belts purring around the fountain in front of the Plaza Hotel… and that was the “nice” part of town. Brooklyn was as far away as Istanbul. Walking up from the subway at Times Square was like stumbling into a gang fight. That’s what it felt like to me. What is strange is that I LOVED IT. I loved it all. It was humanity on full display: pimples, sweat, love, heartbreak, addition, brilliance, despair, and bliss. It was terrifying, but it was genuine and without pretense. There was no doubt that when you stood with both feet in NYC you were in the center of the universe.

The authenticity is harder to see these days, as the world seems to be owned entirely by three or four people. The same chain restaurants, newspapers, TV shows, video games and advertisements follow us everywhere. We are never lost. The computer in our pocket vibrates and there is somewhere we are “supposed” to be. We are made to be comfortable at all moments, but, for me, there still is that scratchy feeling in my gut where I long to see under the surface, to know, and to be known. If I’m not lost how can I be found? Without fear how will I be courageous? I want to stay up late, high from the connection I’ve made with another traveler on the road. To see deep into someone’s eyes, not just hung up on the eye “make up” or the “face-life,” but to see something real.

It’s all still here… it’s just hiding like we are.”

- Ethan Hawke on New York

a place to hide, to lose or discover oneself…

sohardtodefine — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 03:34:31 +0000

“It is a myth, the city, the rooms and windows, the steam-spitting streets; for anyone, everyone, a different myth, an idol-head with traffic-light eyes winking a tender green, a cynical red. This island, floating in river water like a diamond iceberg, call it New York, name it whatever you like; the name hardly matters because, entering from the greater reality of elsewhere, one is only in search of a city, a place to hide, to lose or discover oneself, to make a dream wherein you prove that perhaps after all you are not an ugly duckling, but wonderful, and worthy of love, as you thought sitting on the stoop where the Fords went by; as you thought planning your search for a city.”—Truman Capote

Gratitude?

sohardtodefine — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 12:23:29 +0000

Bish pleaze.

So today is something that my country considers, generally, to be a holiday. I don’t get it, personally. Sure it’s nice to contemplate what one is grateful for (not that that’s the focus of most people today), but really I don’t see the need to slaughter countless innocent turkeys or gorge on food (likely more the focus of most).

Even worse of course is the day after Thanksgiving, Black Friday, where people feel it necessary to run out and empty their wallets. F that. For me that day is an important holiday known as BUY NOTHING DAY.

We vote with our wallets. Why should we rush out and contribute anything to this FIRE (Finance, insurance, real estate) economy? Why not use the day to tap into your creativity, or do good for others (if you don’t have to work (if you’re unemployed like too many people, sorry, but you should appreciate this anti-commercial rant most)?

It’s just another Thursday to me. I plan on doing laundry and watching some movies, enjoying the quiet of my apartment while I can. THAT is something for which I am truly grateful. Oh, and the upcoming move I have next week. Bye bye Brooklyn!

And I’m grateful for Bjork lately. Sometimes I just ask myself, what would Bjork do? Try it.

All the Jewelry I Never Got

sohardtodefine — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 03:15:57 +0000

Seems like this Natalie B Coleman girl is fit for commiseration. The title of this line gets me to thinking… if I were to compile a list of all the jewelry I’ve never received, major highlights would include a macaroni necklace in first grade – my crush made one for every girl in the class except for me – and a proper engagement ring from a twit who doesn’t know what the word forever means. Obviously both devasting!

There are many more looks on Coleman’s website, from this collection “All the Jewelry I Never Got” and other brilliant collections – “Damaged Goods” and even one based on Grey Gardens!

Via Design for Mankind