Rambling Thoughts Beginning Precisely NOW

You know, realistically if one wanted to employ the help of forest animals to accomplish tasks (a la Sleeping Beauty or any other animated Disney flick wherein the soprano princess warbles in a key usually reserved for dogs speaking to one another and accomplishes any number of things with the help of her furry forest friends), one would have to look no further than the mighty raccoon. Sure, they're vicious little buggers, evil, evil Machiavellian monsters and all that, but (and I'd say bear with  me [ha ha] but this post literally has no direction, so your guess is as good as mine)...where was I?

Right.

Sure, they're terrifying little sh*ts, but...one can't argue with the usefulness of opposable thumbs. Not only could raccoons thatch a mean roof or tie a solid knot, but they could indicate via thumbs up that they've not only completed the task and are ready for the next but also that they're totally happy to do so. Bears, despite being adorable and vicious, are also enormous and clumsy. 

"Who me? Well, I'm not really of much use here so

I thought I'd relax with a lemonade while the rest

of you set up camp."

Badgers seem far too sinister to accomplish much, since the entire time you'd be checking over your shoulder in fear that the inevitable uprising has reached a boiling point. Foxes rely on all fours to do anything, so asking a fox to carry your canteen and walk at the same time would be a near-impossible task better suited to dogs, since dogs are friendlier anyway. 

"Hear that, sly fox? BOOYAH."

I suppose the point in bringing all this up is to mention that I'm going camping this weekend, and I'm magnificently bereft any and all skills pertaining to outdoor survival. Sure, I'm from Oregon, where we come mountain trained and certified from birth, but guys, I've been slipping into a California coma for the past nine years and I don't think there's a defibrillator big enough to jolt me out of it. I love bathrooms. And running water. And fountain stations overflowing with Diet Coke and cubed ice for the taking. And Ikea mattresses. Oh! And Internet! Did I mention how much I love the Internet? I love you, Internet. 

Anyway, all that to say, I fear becoming the girl I hate the very most, the one that's utterly incapable of doing anything for herself and mewls at everyone else to do it for her. Hence enlisting the help of my masked bandit little friends. Because the thought of whining, "Um, I can't dooooo this. Ugh, where's slot A and pole B? Guys? Guyyyyys?" makes me feel like this: 

I expressed my fear to Jessica over iChat today and this is her advice:

LD: so I feel like all my unlikable bits are going to be exposed this weekend when people realize that I don't know how to put up a tent, and don't really know how to be in the wilderness

gahhhrhhrrrr

JK: No just be like the girl who "doesn't know how to play poker"

LD: I hate that girl. Therefore, this weekend, I hate myself. 

JK: Hmmmm - you could pretend to be bad ass the whole time and say things like

"What? a tent? I've never used one of theeeese before. I normally sleep on bears when I 'camp'."

"THIS is what you guys call the wilderness? Really? There aren't even lions out here"

...And then just get drunk

LD: You know, that's a magnificent idea

JK: If anyone could pull it off it would be you.

LD: It's true. I have a fur hat.

---

So there you have it. 

Raccoons? I don't need any raccoons to help me set up my tent. When I camp, God just usually smiles at me, and a perfectly formed tree grows right there on the spot and I share the biggest branch with a panther.* And an ax. 

Goodnight, ladies, ladies good night. 






*Former Dillon Panther Tim Riggins would also work. In case you were wondering. 

Quotables

"I’m particularly uncomfortable around drunken straight women. They tend to speak in higher pitches to seem girly in front of straight men and those higher pitches actually hurt my ears."

- Stephin Merritt 

Shop. Style. Shoot.

Hey, guess what? This is gonna be a lot of fun. So all you fashion-minded folk out there should come out and join us on Thursday evening for the festivities. 

Home Sweet

One of the first projects that Beth and I ever conjured up together way back in January was a shoot at her home in Santa Ana with her husband, Brian. They were planning to move and wanted to capture a moment in their lives within the walls of their first house. Well, a few shoots and a trip to Europe later, Beth and I finally made that initial project happen. I joined Mr. and Mrs. Jones for an afternoon and got to witness a little slice of life on Halladay St. The shoot was, predictably, a huge challenge because both of them were painfully awkward and generally difficult to work with. And their dog Dudley almost attacked me twice. 

This is, of course, a lie. There are folks out there with undeniable chemistry, and these two have it in spades. As for Dudley? He might be looking right, left, or straight (it's hard to tell with those eyes), but his tail was always wagging. 

It's A Tough World Out There

This is what occupies my mind most of the time. Stay strong, fella, but yeah...you'll probably just get zapped in the end.


Three and a Half Seconds About Life from Eran Hilleli on Vimeo.

Let's Go Surfin

Last year I wrote about New Zealand band Surf City's excellent EP. It landed on my top ten for the year and it's an album I'll spin from start to finish whenever the mood feels right (and it most often always feels right). Well, I'm happy to report (via Stereogum) that my favorite band that no one's heard of is finally releasing a full length, proper album. Huzzah! Get here, November 30, I'm ready and waiting. 

Click here to listen to a single from the forthcoming LP. 

Inspiration: 10:2010.4

Color palette inspired by Chloé and Céline.

Ieva Leguna by Greg Kadel for Vogue Germany, Nov. 2010.

Claudia by Henrik Adamsen for Schön! Magazine

Inspiration: 10:2010.3

Hedi Slimane, folks. I've posted about him before. I've never stopped loving his work. So dynamic. So powerful. What a tour de force.

Inspiration: 10:2010.2

Tatted and torn. Excuse the girly effusiveness about the next few photos, but folks: I love me a man with tattoos. Deal with it. (Oh, and the first model, who isn't a man at all - but I like her tattoo. I'm not the tatting type, mainly because I don't think I could commit to anything that permanent [my ears aren't even pierced], let alone its location...seems too trendy to me. However...that doesn't mean I can't appreciate it on others.) 

Most of these are from The Fashionisto. 

Jamie by Hedi Slimane

By Hedi Slimane

Ian Jones by Oscar  Correcher

Vinnie Woolston by Olivia Hemus for The Superette

Tony Ward by Will Davidson 

Inspiration: 10:2010

Lots of inspiration this month. It will be divided into a few posts, perfect for pre-weekend browsing. Here's the first: Giselle by Carter Smith. 

Weekend Recap: Swanky Panky

No chord of music has yet been found
To even equal that sweet sound
Which to my mind all else surpasses--
The clink of ice in crystal glasses.

There are many things I've been accused of (rampant paranoia, bullheaded stubbornness, general loudmouthiness, devastating charm, to name a few), but making a weak drink is not one of them. And anyway, can you imagine what kind of a dustup that would be? 

"Laurel, I hereby accuse you of...cutting your Hendricks Collins with Sprite!"

[GASP]

[SLAP]

"HOW DARE YOU!"

And so on. All's I'm suggesting is, someone would probably lose an eye at the angry end of a cocktail spoon and honey, it wouldn't be me. 

While I pride myself on my mixmaking abilities, there's still dubiousness there as well because I realize that my tastes skew fairly staunchly toward the stiff end of the spectrum. While this suits me like wool gabardine for quaffing Stranihans neat, it often necessitates a couple of taste testers to sacrifice their blood alcohol levels for cocktails meant for public consumption. If, upon an initial brave sip, their faces contort grotesquely for a second and they follow it up with a banshee-like "Whoooaaaoowww!" then I know what I need to do: uncap that pure grain spirit and empty the rest of the bottle, man! Oh, and maybe add a mint garnish. Gotta up that class factor, friends - always. 

Such was the case this weekend, anyway. Three of my favorite friends (maybe it's unfair to pick favorites, but I'm taking my cues from a certain Mr. Barrett Kemp here. Way to rank 'em, Bear) had birthdays within the last few weeks so rather than spread our energies over a series of dinners and drinks, we doubled down and invested every last ounce of mirth and merriment into a group soiree of 1960's proportions. The theme was 60's cocktail swank with a bit of 40's jazzy swagger and a healthy dose of 20's prohibition swilling. 

Everyone turned out in their finest frippery and we all got pleasantly toasted while candles threatened to burn down the house (a couple of ingeniously devised but poorly placed banana leaves are the singed culprits). Luckily, with a swingin' rotation of records and an endless supply of pigs-in-a-blanket (not to mention Old Fashioneds and a good amount of tobacco), the party burned the midnight candle and our birthday folk celebrated late into the night. The elevated voices and exaggerated gesticulations, however, could only be blamed on the beverage I supplied: Trader Vic's signature Scorpion. 

Ashley picked up this fantastic book of cocktails and anecdotes at a thrift store last week so I opted to mix a bowl of punch for the party goers, and I'll say this much: For a punch that served some 15 guests their seconds and thirds, the thing only contained 8 ounces of fruit juice. The rest, well...I guess you could say I modified that recipe ever-so-slightly. But don't worry: Your gal friday kept it classy and made sure to include that mint leaf garnish. 

SCORPION

     1 1/2 bottles Puerto Rican rum
     2 oz. gin
     2 oz. brandy
     16 oz. lemon juice
     8 oz. orange juice
     8 oz. orgeat
     2 springs of mint
     1/2 bottle white wine

     Mix thoroughly, pour over cracked ice; let stand two
     hours and add more ice. Garnish with gardenias.

A Few More From Berkeley

Mike posted a few pictures he took on his phone last weekend during our Berkeley pilgrimage to see the Arcade Fire. I feel like he captured the spirit of the trip so well - here are a few of my favorites. Head on over to his blog to see the rest. This first panorama is the best.