Next weekend, my and Long Beach's good friend, Barrett Kemp (that's Corporal Kemp to you, soldier) is shipping off for his second tour of Iraq with the United States Marines. I met Barrett through his brother Tyler a few months ago and it was immediately clear to me when he started talking about buying slimmer cut jeans that we would be BEST. FRIENDS. FOR LIFE.
The above has proven, thus far, to be true, as Barrett has donned a couple new pairs of Slim Slacks and has even agreed to be a longsuffering model for one of my on-the-fly photoshoots. That, folks, is a what a good man is made of. If he can endure the repeated requests to submerge himself fully in water, but, this time Barr, can you keep your eyes open and sort of twist your shoulders like so, and float more slowly? Then I put my full faith and trust in him to defend this motley country of ours, PMSing though she may be at the moment.
So Barrett, be brave and be safe. We'll miss you tremendously while you're gone, but what's most important is that you return. I'll keep a watchful eye on Long Beach for ya till you come home.
Update: If you know Barrett and want to read up on his time overseas, his dad Roger is keeping a blog which can be found here.
Once more this time, with emphasis
Well that was an extended absence if I've ever seen one. I realized that the date of my last post on this here blog was Thursday. My many profuse apologies. I'd brag about the numerous ways in which three-day weekends kick some azz but that's just beating a dead horse, in't? On Thursday evening I joined a hearty handful of others and watched the premiere of The Office, along with a hearty handful of the rest of America. I think that episode can be summed up best by Mike's Facebook status the next day: OMG, Toby broke his neck???
Oh, em gee, indeed. The weekend held a veritable cornucopia of activities ranging from political (the debate on Friday) to partying (Barrett's going away party, drinks at Golden Gopher with the AA crowd), but nothing breached bipartisan lines by reaching into the depths of our crusty old souls and massaging our lifeless 20-something hearts into the beating, warm fuzzies quite like the party we had on Sunday. In honor of Jessica, Mike, and Tyler getting one year older, we surprised them and said, "We're gonna party like it's 1992."
Dressed as we were in the scruffy duds of our youth and caked to the nose in Cheeto crumbs and lollipop residue, we got down with our childhood selves. We ate PB&J's, kicked around a soccer ball, blew bubbles, climbed trees, and took naps. And there was a piñata. Nothing ignites the flames of youthfulness quite like an afternoon bender of Airheads, cookies, and vodka Kool-Aid. Oh, yeahhhh.
So here's to getting another year older. We may not look it, but we swear our hearts are young.
Juiceboxes and gummy worms and...aviators? Well, ok.
Cups o' dirt
Had I all the expendable cash in the world, I'd hightail it to Topshop right now and get this Kate Moss for Topshop feather vest. Then I'd buy all that other stuff. I'd throw on a pair of jeans, and that'd be that.
But since I don't have all the expendable cash in the world, I can only drool. And share my Outfit of the Week with you, Internet.
Feather vest. To DIE for. And it's faux, so no birds actually had to!
Tall. Amazing. TALL.
Tall, but in a different way.
A tiny studded bag for carrying...uh...I dunno. Whatever you'd carry in a tiny studded bag.
I'm shooting in an annex space this week far, far away from the HQ studio. I'm alone in a warehouse with nothing but my iPod and my thoughts to keep me company. Oh, and my camera. So here's a couple of shots, plus a few from our studio picnic last week.
Dig the new frames? Thanks, Paul Smith, for making expensive but cute specs.
Or however that song goes.
"Thus, the lobster is a crawling, benthic reminder that Fate is a cruel and capricious mistress, because, from any kind of objective standpoint, nobody would ever want to eat a lobster, let alone consider it a luxury. Lobsters are, essentially, giant bugs."
- Animal Review on Lobsters
"I got so tired of wan, 16-year-old East European models that I woke up super early to go to the Victoria's Secret show. Which, it turned out, was actually just a PowerPoint presentation by its CEO. It was like waking up for Christmas and discovering it's CEO PowerPoint Day."- Joel Stein goes to Fashion Week, Time Magazine
Hey, Autumn Season, I bought some stuff to pay homage to you. Bookish glasses and boots. That's Fallish, right?
P.S. Those boots now trump these:
...As the tallest shoes in my collection, at 5" tall.
One of my favorite things to do as a kid was to hop in the family van and go to John's Carwash (River Road in Keizer, can I hear an Amen, Keizer kids?). I loved the insulated feeling of being surrounded by soapy tentacles and sprays of water. Even now whenever I want a moment by myself or need a pick-me-up (or, as was the case yesterday, when my car is so filthy I can't see out the back window), I head to the carwash. It's in that watery womb that I feel absolutely at peace with the world and myself. Yesterday I also happened to take a video of the event as well as a few pictures.
Where do you go to feel safe or at home?