Uplifting

I have just returned from watching Pixar's latest offering, Up.























I have always been a fan of pixar movies; I must have seen the original Toy Story a dozen times, on good old VHS. Nemo has a soft place in me because of it's Sydney setting, while I found wall-e to be intelligent and thought provoking (the end credits were especially beautifully hand made). Up, meanwhile, resonated with me in a different way.

Something about the theme of growing out with your significant other, losing him/her and then having to cope and continue to live life alone without your better half is something harrowingly saddening for me. Up explores this idea under the guise of a funny and beautifully narrated story, and every single time it touched on the topic it bought a tear to my eye; Maddie thought I was a nut.

Up is certainly not the most heroic (Incredibles), cerebral (Wall-E) or characteristically far fetching (Monsters, Inc.) of all the Pixar movies that have come before it- but something about it; the earthy theme, the scout in us we can all relate to, the grumpy old man we all know and love- makes it all the more endearing and original. Naysayers such as bankers who predicted that Up would have difficulty lifting off because of " its geriatric action hero"can stuff themselves; "wall street analyists" haven't gotten much right lately now, have they? We might as well stop listening to what they are charged to say.

I can see the influence of Miyazaki's studio Ghibli work slowly proliferating into Disney (which now owns Ghibli); the entire premise of a floating house exploring unknown land was previously probed by Howl's moving castle, and it also had other elements of previous disney movies in it too; you will catch references to the Lion King, Toy Story and probably more my slow eye (distracted by the 3D glasses) cannot see. I say this cross polination of ideas and creativity is an awesome breath of fresh air. The Japanese simply don't think like anybody else on this planet.

Here's to you, my two amazing widowed Grandmas currently living a life as if it were always lifted by a houseful of colourful helium balloons.

Fluent Snickers® Speak

On my Chewmute this afternoon while searching for a way to cure my hungerectomy, I came across this unequivocal chewth.

Around a month ago in Marketing class I brought up the new Snickers ad campaign and how much I love it and find it infinitely amusing in which a few of my fashion marketing colleagues scoffed, 'uh, so stupid. Half of them don't even make sense. Would YOU go out and get another snicker bar?'

As a matter of fact, I would.














To be fair, I have always been a big snickers fan. My stomach is enamoured with the nuts and caramel, in just the right size. And it doesn't usually like caramel. Twix just doesn't have the correct proportions. With the introduction of this campaign back in April, my affinity for Snickers grew twofold. It makes me giggle out loud everytime I see one- crossing the street, standing on a platform (What was 'Enjoy your chiiiiumiiiuuuute'? I asked my friend, unawares how my australian accent had completely mutated the funny), across the side of the bus. Yet, if normally sensible girls unlike me would find it stupid, juvenile, unwitty and an insult to their sophisicated intellected, have not Mars done their job? Afterall, I don't imagine myself to be even part of Mars' central demographic; pimply, geeky teenage boys addicted to warcraft? Men who haven't just grown up yet? The Apatow clan, methinks. Neal Rubin from the Detroit Times struggled with the campaign but in the end saw the light; that is, Snickers are merely trying to befriend their target audience.

Can you imagine how much fun they must have had making these up!? They could have been drunk, high, just throwing around ideas and then heckling about it for hours on end. This humour resonates with me- the universal lameness where you just shake your head at but cannot help chuckle a little anyway. Those who restrain from Snickers' omnipresent ticklish billboards are just trying not to let clever marketing and copywriting prevail their uptight and boorish minds; Why not let them win just this once?

I invite everyone to just stop being so serious and just enjoy the lame humour that is Snicker Speak. Live a little. Climb every Mt. Foodji. You don't have to buy a snicker bar if you don't like it (although they are awfully good), just stop shaking your head at them in disgust, okay?

Weekend of the Triumphant Underdog

First Susan Boyle loses Britain's got talent.
And now Nadal has lost for the first time in five years on his turf that is French clay!

Just goes to show that there is hope yet for anyone who regards themselves as anybody but number one.
Here's looking at you, anyone apart from Kanye West.

I wasn't Made in China but this is

Wallpaper* Magazine is celebrating China in their current issue, of the 'creative energy carrying China to new heights'.

I was a little thrown off at first when I flicked onto their homepage to find a smattering of simplified Chinese. Lift Off! Made in China! On further investigation this does not seem like an unwelcome concept at all. The might and resources Japan has accumulated over the years have reaped plenty of creative rewards for the country, now not only exporting whitegoods and technology, but everything desirable thing in between from Muji pencil sharpeners to Bape sneakers. I would think with China's aggressive growth rate in their push for both financial and political clout design as a result will not lag behind.

China is a culture born and bred on comparison, ego and saving face, after all!














I imagine my Grandmas would feel a little uncomfortable playing mahjong in this sleek getup (they play together in a little, dingy and badly lit mahjong club in Surry Hills- too cute). Perhaps that is the way of the future for this game though- as opposed to raucous screaming and scheming and erratic clashing of tiles it will become sedated, composed, sophisiticated, to relate how truly intellectual this pastime is (or so my Grandmas tell me). Speaking of which, would there be the possiblity that one day mahjong will be the new poker? the new bridge? Here could be why.

My not so secret Secret Garden

You know how when you stumble across an object or a place or a youtube video so completely awesome some way or another that you almost get dizzy from the rush of adrenalin, become nauseously happy and giggle inside?

When that happens with me I proceed to try and store it in the particular file in my mind and then try to not share it with anyone because it is so awesome that I attempt to greedily horde it for as long as I can.

Of course that is not what eventuates usually, as I'm always bursting to tell anyone who would listen anything.

The disappointment comes here. In my gush of excitement at having told the captured victim of my extraordinary discovery, I usually expect equal awe with the person I'm sharing it with, proceeded with gratitude for my generosity to share. That doesn't happen either, because the response I usually get would be do you live under a rock?, and I, once again, would find that I'm not so alternative nor special in taste afterall, but that simply the society has made me feel like I am.

The following items are some which fall into that category for me:

• How I Met Your Mother
  
• Chicken and Rice
  
• Music by Metric
• The West Wing
• Popeye's Chicken
• Melissa's Mini Cupcakes (or are they muffins?)
  

Upon evaluation this list does not even come across as alternative. I concede that I have shot down many of these excited introductions myself; gleefully at that.

What I am trying to get to is that there is one particular thing that I feel will end up in that list above but certainly hope won't. That is, the random garden on Bowery 265.



















A few weeks ago I took one of my aimless ambles around Soho, because to me that area is chocfull of surprises and disappointments alike, and I love that about them. For example, what happened to What Goes around comes around? And who is The Rhodes, who were playing under the trees in Washington Square Park? I was due to meet Marie for a mini end-of-the-semester pubcrawl on One-on/&-one so I took a turn down Bleecker and lo and behold, discovered and adequately flavourful green curry, so I continued to walk down to find a nice little park to sit down and eat. Before I even got there though, I stumbled across this:















That is probably one of this most unpretentious welcome signs I have seen around the area. It is gorgeous! I sat down at exactly the same time where there was not a soul in the garden bar perhaps the critters and the birds- just me and a piece of manhattan that resembled nothing like it- a little chunk of an oasis.





















I have been brought up to know how to share though, so here it is. I had Elvis Costello's She in my head as I was sitting there, because it felt like exactly the place Julia and Hugh would have sat in the very, very end of Notting Hill.

Mannequins, Models, Muses and the Met II

I finally got the chance to hit the Met today for the Model as Muse exhibition, and was not overtly disappointed. Although there were hardly surprises, it hit many model as muse landmarks in fashion history. In passing they did mention Monsieur Dior and his stable of in-house models- the cabine, but did not delve into it too much, which I thought would have been fitting (literally and figuratively- hah!) Also, it did not look into particular designer-model relationships, which was one aspect I had been looking forward to exploring at the exhibition. Alaia+Naomi naturally comes to mind, but of course after multiple bouts of controversy and boycotting his designs are of course, sadly, nowhere to be seen.

One big minus is the hair on the mannequins, which are styled, throughout all the time frames, as tackily caked together into whichever glossy form and shape. It may have seemed like a good idea on paper but in practice it looked hurried, messy and unprofessional.

I wonder if the VM folks in Bergdorfs had any say/consulted in the styling of the exhibit? They were certainly impeccable. Perhaps looking up through a glass window makes everything fancier. Though we are talking about the Met!

The West

A week well spent in San Francisco and Napa.

At SFMOMA:




















'1. No Thought Exists Without A Sustaining Support', -(I think and hope it is) Mel Bochner.

The Mondrian cake is too cute. I assume it would take a mountainload of effort.

Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix

when mellow/happy/sad, phoenix is always a go to to listen to for me. Their new album is pretty awesome; my favourite song being 'Countdown (sick or the big sun)' their video above lisztomania is pretty adorable, complete with balloon in the shape of a bungling missile. Cannot wait to watch them at terminal 5 come june.

"Don't mistake Aloha for being weak." - Dr. David Keanu Sai, Monocle edition 21

The Broadway Crew

Before colour theory class yesterday (which, thanks to Joy, I discovered wewillattack.com and Sebastien Tellier) popped down broadway to check out two new spawn-of-chainstores- Topshop and J.Crew, with the Mens-only store being an infantile day-old.

With J.Crew Men's, I was unsurprisedly pleased; the store was predicatably (albeit pleasantly) decorated, but nothing that shouted J.Crew, but substitutedly, straight up Preppy Americana. The difference with J.Crew is the much friendlier price point; English silk ties made in U.S. started from around $59. The suit room in the back felt like a mini J.Press, but they might have to think about watching out unaware gentlemen tripping over the rugs.



















I have always admired Mackintosh as a company and the Macs (green and blue check, khaki with a pop of an orange lining) that J.Crew has commissioned is definitely a great rainy day contender. They have Free&Easy as well! I see this publication is gathering quite a cult gathering- understandably, the Japanese are dapper down to the bone, to every minute detail.

Then I ventured over to Topshop right next door (J.Crew seemed so indiscreet in demeanor by contrast). I'd avoided the grand opening because I just knew I would not be worth the lining up and the jostleing. And I was right- Topshop NYC was Meh. I'd suffered Topshop attack when I was in London- every morning on my way to work walking past Regent/Oxford I'd never understood why people would line up to enter one of the most overrated brands in the U.K. in the freezing cold (here's looking at you, Abercrombie). Their London flagship is a clusterfcuk of nail salon, denim bar, shoe store, candy store and every taste under the sun clothing coterie- where products, which used to be great in quality (I still love a suiting material-dress that i'd bought in Topshop Tokyo 3 years ago) have now have slipped into the calibre of H&M; yet retained its unjustifyable pricepoint! Their repoirtoire has been pretty much replicated here.
Perhaps Kate Moss is the very personification of Topshop- massively popular, relatively expensive in its market, omnipresent, but you don't exactly know why. The New York store brought no surprises. I guess perhaps that's exactly what New York wanted/needed- I suppose any girl/boy who has never been into a Topshop would be thoroughly impressed by how the store is able to offer a product that they had not known they'd wanted, until they saw it. I do love their accessories (rings, in particular), but gosh is it just me or is it so much more expensive here?

Quaint!

After my exam today I had so much free time on my hands I took a little stroll around the hood, spent good 2 hours in Strand Books- only came out because I was starting to get dizzy from hunger and thirst (that could possibly be my only qualm about the store- the lack of oxygen)! here are the two books I bought:















I also came across a rather adorable table setting in Anthropologie, above.