I wanted to create a triptych or something out of these, but they're all amazing. The progression, the wardrobe... just look at them all. I need them as posters throughout my apartment. Please try to pretend she's not at a Mets game...

Three Wallace Stevens poems from late 40s (three lines redacted)—



'Arrival at the Waldorf'

Home from Guatemala, back at the Waldorf.
This arrival in the wild country of the soul,
All approaches gone, being completely there,

Where the wild poem is a substitute
For the woman one loves or ought to love,
One wild rhapsody a fake for another.

You touch the hotel the way you touch moonlight
Or sunlight and you hum and the orchestra
Hums and you say "The world in a verse,

A generation sealed, men remoter than mountains,
Women invisible in music and motion and color,"
After that alien, point-blank, green and actual Guatemala.



'The Dove in the Belly'

The whole of appearance is a toy. For this,
The dove in the belly builds his nest and coos.

Selah, tempestuous bird. How is it that
The rivers shine and hold their mirrors up,

Like excellence collecting excellence?
How is that the wooden trees stand up

And live and heap their panniers of green
And hold them round the sultry day? Why should

These mountains being high be, also, bright,
Fetched up with snow that never falls to earth?

And this great esplanade of corn, miles wide,
Is something wished for made effectual

And something more. And the people in costumes
have that within them right for terraces—oh brave salut!

Deep dove, placate you in your hiddenness.



'So-and-So Reclining on Her Couch'

On her side, reclining on her elbow,
The mechanism, this apparition,
Suppose we call it Projection A.

She floats in the air at the level of
The eye, completely anonymous,
Born, as she was, at twenty-one,

Without lineage or language, only
The curving of her hip, as motionless gesture.

If just above her head there hung,
Suspended in air, the slightest crown
Of Gothic prong and practick bright,

The suspension, as in solid space,
The suspending hand withdrawn, would be
An invisible gesture. Let this be called

Projection B. To get at the thing
Without gestures is to get at it as
Idea. She floats in the contention, the flux

Between the thing as idea and
The idea as thing. She is half who made her.
This is the final Projection, C.

The arrangement contains the desire of
The artist. But one confides in what has no
Concealed creator. One walks easily

The unpainted shore, accepts the world
As anything but sculpture. Good-bye,
Mrs. Pappadopoulos, and thanks.

¡COPA MUNDIAL!

'LINDSAY'S BRACELET WENT OFF'

This is a job I want (prayer works)-------resuscitating (rebranding) Versace, which has reported stunning profit losses several quarters running, and generally seemed to ungrip its place at the head of the table, at the front of our minds, lost at/about/within the Information Economy.

Italian houses are (ought to be) all about families. I love Donatella and think her creative potential continues to be strong (remember that beautiful Spring '06 post-rehab collection that was all Sedona and Palm Springs?). I think my role would principally be a marketing one...where a younger eye toward brand/house history and American pop ($$$) might guide Versace to make the right kind of noise (and then bucks).
I wouldn't for a second want the brand to stop being about her (or, of course, Gianni's) kind of LOUD, SEXED, FESTOONED, AND PLASTIC LUXE dressing and living and looking. Versace isn't hip or hippie ever in the least, and a shift in that direction would be disastrous. Versace is brilliantly aligned with that Elvis Presley idea of female beauty where a full face of make-up, a big head of blown out hair and a mess of cleavage are essentials. Donatella believes in her woman; she is her woman. And not only does she have a real, direct, held-to point of view (a design must), but one that happens to be eternally saleable, rather permanent....there is a market for looking like an Ibiza-frequenter for miles and miles. And, I'm shocked that right now of all nows, the label is suffering. Because this-here is a time for discotheque, for the Guido and the Euro-at-large, for metallics and tans and big prints. Also, audiences are beyond primed to remember Gianni's early 90s working relationships with glAmazons...
Versace has a major logo. The Medusa medallion (...beyond a logo, really) and Greek key and classic Gianni prints belong everywhere on every thing and one. They are potent gestures toward a conglomerated Ancient and 20th century (and papal?) information---the Roman appropriation of Greekness, the Romanization of that Greekness, garishness and war plumage, war entitlement, gold coin, white marble, spectacle, appetite, the first mafia, Nero, Miami in the 80s, crashing yachts, golden-gated driveways, *R*I*C*O*, Biggie Biggie Biggie, HOT DAMNING DECADENCE. All of this is within the brand, powerfully suggested by the brand insignias.
Versace can turn around via its own archive, a reissue, a return-to. Easy does it.

They ought to push and standardize their handbag and luggage range----Greek key embossment with gold (and sometimes bejewelled) Medusa hardware and a lot of structure (no slouch) in many vivid colors and rare skins, not in the one-off seasonal collaboration mode of Marc Jacobs at Vuitton, but consistently (broadly within a set of limits) and with an air of custom-ness befitting top-notch leathergoods. I think one-off seasonal collaborations would be brilliant for jewelry, watches, and scarf prints. Versus should get a splashy-hire, a new (baby new) name at helm, and maybe push teen celebrities in ads and at shows. Great big attention should be paid to Hip Hop, its history/present/future, its stars and channels toward consumers--as I suggested above, Biggie in a Versace silk shirt (such a picture hangs at Juniors' main campus) goes a long way in this 90s redux environment...people need reminding. Christina Aguilera has always been dressed by Donatella, and I like the idea of sticking with/by music people; traditonal-trajectory, Oscar-calibur Hollywood (like Gwyneth Paltrow and Nicole Kidman) is so (white and) boring (actors and present-day films often so unstylish). Reality stars (Real Life Stars), Hollywood via tabloids (and Twilight), people famous-everywhere-but-America-(yet), MODELS, and popular musicians are the way...
Much of the rebranding would be about shaping and solidifying the Versace legacy, Gianni's and Donatella's, assuring recognition of THE IDEA of Versace...
how fun!

Awww...wow---this is sweet: successful childblogger Tavi has heeded our advice (w/out having to actually heed our advice). She had a good time dancing at her eighth grade school dance, and, in turn, has decided to give peace a chance/get down with her agemates/critique the systems of self-conscious hipster-ism that divide and non-conquer.

What a big deal these middle school dances were!---a revolution in public sexiness and the possible bounds of shame---at the end of los 90s/dawn of the Aughts, we found for the first time (our* first time, not a generalized first time) that we knew exactly how to drop our azzes to the floor (and with no formal training!). In one of those years (7th or 8th) I can't remember which I took my dress off in the bathroom and just wore my sheer slip, but then when this tall boy with nice hair told my friends he thought I was hot and he wanted to meet me I hid in the science lab.....so began a decade (!) of earnestly trying to figure out what being/guessing/seeming a slut was all about...geez.

*the collective here is me and my fellow small, parochial girls-schoolers

Verses

"Dragostea Din Tei"
O-Zone
(2004)

----rough English trans---



"Love From The Lime Trees" or "Love of the Linden Tree"

Maya-Hi
Maya-Hu
Maya-Ho
Maya-Ha Ha
Maya-Hi
Maya-Hu
Maya-Ho
Maya-Ha Ha

Hello, Salute--
It's me...your Duke
And I've made something that's real
To show you how I feel.

Hello, Hello--
It's me...Picasso.
I will paint my words of love
With your name on every wall.

When you leave, my colors fade to gray.
Whoa I whoa I aaa
Whoa I whoa I whoa I aaa
...Every word of love I used to say...
Now I paint it everyday.

I sold my strings, my songs, and dreams,
And I bought some paints to match the colors of my love.
Hello, Hello--
It's me again...Picasso.
I will spray my words of love
With your name on every wall.

When you leave my colors fade to gray.
Whoa I whoa I aaa
Whoa I whoa I whoa I aaa
...Every word of love I used to say...
Now I paint it everyday .

When you leave my colors fade to gray
Hey, little lover stay
Or all my colors fade away
...Every word of love I used to say...
Now I paint it everyday.

Maya-Hi
Maya-Hu
Maya-Ho
Maya-Ha Ha
Maya-Hi
Maya-Hu
Maya-Ho
Maya-Ha Ha

Maya-Hi
Maya-Hu
Maya-Ho
Maya-Ha Ha
Maya-Hi
Maya-Hu
Maya-Ho
Maya-Ha Ha

When you leave my colors fade to gray.
Whoa I whoa I aaa
Whoa I whoa I whoa I aaa
...Every word of love I used to say...
Now I paint it everyday.

When you leave my colors fade to gray.
Hey, little lover stay,
Or all my colors fade away.
...Every word of love I used to say...
Now I paint it everyday.

LOVE KILLS

TALENTO DEL BARRIO

It was a beach weekend.
Polynesian drink!
World Cup (almost)!
And did you watch "Soulja Boy Tell 'Em's Super Swag 18" en MTV? I've included a picture of his Auto-outlaw-estiil' above!
SUMMERJAMS SINCE YESTERDAY----
Enrique (!!!) Iglesias' laze-fest, "I Like It"====phrase of Lionel Ritchie+Pitbull verses in English and Spanish+Jersey Shore cast en video!
Nicki Minaj's "Your Love"====Despite her many (worthy) hitz and hairs, Rihanna isn't quite talented enough to be the only glamorous Caribbean lady in the Now (who is?). We want Island inflections on the constant always! I was not about Nicki's verse on "Bedrock," but have digged her appearance on "My Chick Bad," and now this and "Massive Attack." Also, I think it's kind of brave and futurist how aggressively she wears her butt implants (shades of Coco-T).
La Roux's "Bulletproof"====This was a last summerjam, but I missed it, and even if I hadn't I'd probs still be playing it on the repeat because it's a dance track with one of those hyper-emotional, hyper-melodic refrains that I've never been able to get enough of---totes filmic.
Miley Cyrus' "See You Again"====This was a kids-only summerjam of 2007 (when Miles were FOURTEEN!), but alongside "Party in the U.S.A." and "The Climb" it's her best twerk. And "Can't Be Tamed" is soo bad; we need to deflect (?) back.
Belanova's "Baila Mi Corazón"====BAILA MI CORAZÓNNNN!

process/abstraction/ look see, homeboy

Where Do We Go From Here?