Wordplay

Because elevators aren’t scary enough, NYC’s The Standard Hotel (which has been in the news lately thanks to somewhat inappropriate yet entertaining displays to High Line visitors) has a new installment to help make your anti-stair experience more spiritual:

It took Marco Brambilla and Canadian studio Crush an “undisclosed sum of money” and three weeks to gather the odds and ends for this video collage, but the results are quite intoxicating…and nauseating? Motion-sickness-inducing or not, I’m sure the the real trip up or down does cause quite a bit of distress as well, so why not add that element of realism?

From New York Mag:

“Civilization was inspired by Dante’s Divine Comedy and combines looped footage from over 400 sources (including Ghostbusters, we notice)”:

Made By Girl showed off her beautiful framed art wall yesterday and now I’m ready to start collecting for mine.

How great is this smattering of printed goodies?

Images from Made By Girl.

Perhaps I’ll star with these…

Clockwise from top left: Healing from Shirae::perCEPtion by vincenzorizzo::Paint piece from Jacksonville, FL artist Clay Doran, found via ScoutieGirl::Indian Summer from JKphotography::Alienation from JenMcCleary 

Domino’s done!

-February 09 issue, photo from Domino

So say the internet rumours. Gawker’s hed–”Conde Crumble Continues”–really makes it sound like a nightmare. Farewell to my cute little interiors glossy and farewell to one more job application!

A small tribute to Domino and The Things They Did Well–

STRIPES

- May 05

MATCHING PILLOWS

- June/July 08

CHANDELIERS

- May 06

ECLECTIC COLLECTIONS OF THINGS

-August 07

Things They Did Not Do Well–

Staying afloat.

I guess the “guide to living in style” isn’t the “guide to living in a recession.”

Someone should totally publish that.

In honor of our new jute rug (purchased at the 23rd St. Home Depot, but doesn’t seem to be up on their site any longer), I thought I’d do a little investigating about this mystery material. Turns out I do know this long, soft, shiny vegetable fiber, just by another name. And I should have guessed. If it looks like, feels like (and smells like?) burlap, it’s probably burlap. Technically, jute is the fiber that can be spun into threads that can be weaved into fabric which is called burlap, but hey, that’s just me getting into grass technicalities.

So why are there so many jute rugs floating around (underfoot) these days? Besides the fact that they’re playing that “natural fibers” card (might as well climb on board that eco-wagon or you’ll be the only one left in plastic town), they’re cheap! Yep, second only to sir cotton in amount produced and variety of uses, this silky plant is really making its way in the world. Twirl some jute and suddenly you’ve got twine and string and rope and rugs…not to mention shoes and blinds and bags. Oh, the bags (well I mentioned burlap, you had to see this coming)…

Ruffle tote from DrikaB (via Etsy)

Cressier bag from Iragrant/My Little Bird (via Etsy)

Cresent bag from Infusion (via Etsy)

And these understated recycle bags from World Market. (Is that you multitasking by keeping your recycling IN a recyclable container? Mighty clever of you…)

This stuff is sturdy, easy to keep clean and biodegradable for the natural-fiber loving generations that come after you. Works for me. Now if only I can stop this Jute Quest that I’ve started…I’ll take a break for now and take a cue from the NYC MTA: If you see something (made of jute), say something (to me!)…

We got started late on Saturday but decided last minute that we didn’t want to miss it. We scurried down to the D train and took it to the last stop. A place with history, a place with charm, and on this day, a place with mermaids.

We caught the end of The Coney Island Mermaid Parade – a venue for all misunderstood creatures of the sea (and land, and sky, and Manhattan) to display their alter egos and expertise in all things glitter. Their scales and fins and mounds of taffeta sparkled in the sun, matched only in opulence by the sheen of painted exposed mermen skin (much to my delight, but not necessarily the delight of the remaining member of my party).

We spotted giant jellyfish, complete with tiny clown fish hovering inside (although, from my Pixar memory, I didn’t think they were a good match)…

and a pair of bedazzled mermen…

plus, who could forget the hippie fish?…

or King Triton, himself?

followed by crowds of pretty mermaids…

and a very skinny but well camouflaged fish…

not to mention cool-as-a-cucumber ice cream cones (my, they’ve seemed to find a cure for those summertime drips).

Then the octopus-transformer…

led us to an army of sea horse gladiators…

which were posed next to troupe of masquerade mermaids, dancing to the sounds of underwater house beats.

Once we had enough of the lagoon, we took our chances with the carnival. With a Coney Island Lager in hand, the bf shot down numerous foes (and paper stars) and won me a dandy lion cub. Ah, the dismal construction practices of carnival prizes never fails to disappoint me.

But the famous Nathan’s corndogs were delightful (we helped ourselves to seconds).

Although skeptical, I agreed to put my life on the line and climb aboard the infamous Cyclone (don’t worry, this did not immediately follow the second helping of corndogs). Her rickety rails were intimidating, but I have conquered a few mighty coasters in my time, and thought nothing of it. I was not prepared in the least. My bones were rattled, my back was crushed, my knees were brusied, my neck was whiplashed and whatever was left of my soul at the end of that menacing journey was very much defeated. “Ride again – only $5!” they screamed. Good thing they didn’t know I would have paid $5 not to.

With our spirits (and one iPod nano) crushed, we sauntered our to the boardwalk, to say our farewells to Coney Island, the beach, the rides and the mermaids. But the mermaids were just starting their evening (we should have suspected that they might be nocturnal). Crowds of costumed parade participants (merpeople, fish, seaweed and Tom Hanks castaway alike) jumped and swayed in self-made dance cirlces to live music (and sometimes the music in their heads) and invited passersby to join. We didn’t feel like dancing (our toes had been jammed by that demon roller coaster) but we were thoroughly entertained. Coney Island, in all its carnie majesty, had served us well. Maybe we’ll go back one day to see the side show, or ride the wonder wheel. Or maybe Bloomberg will build a great big theme park there and we’ll never have to see the Cyclone again.

Go green. Everybody’s doing it. Peer pressure, city! People shop with canvas bags. You have to reuse your metro card to get all your money. And a 7-mile stretch of the city is going to be car-free for six hours. WHAT? That’s amazingly, wonderfully….inconvenient? All designed by Bloomberg and his minions, it’s great for lil’ ol me – I can actually rent bikes along the stretch of Lafayette and Park ave. and ride without fear that I might be flattened by a cab. But there are definitely people who are not so excited. Shop owners. Home owners (ok, renters). Possibly tourists. They don’t want to come to New York City and see a street without traffic, without angry city folk yelling for cabs, without locals jumping out of the way of busses, without all that special New York City smog. I don’t know if that is what makes our city extraordinary, but maybe it could be extraordinary to try something new to save the planet…one busy street at a time.