I'm Ready.

It hit the glorious 60's today. I'm ready for Summer. Mostly, the beach. And being tan again. Even just moderately-un-pale would be good. Here's to the impending Endless Summer, may it race toward us with the speed of a million famished seagulls heading for the trashbin by the hotdog vendor.

photos: Swim Dress by Tom Palumbo, image from kingdomcum.tumblr, vintage pin-up ad, image from Skinny Bitch, vintage image from stumbleupon.com, dress image by Tina Pelletier, vintage image from June 1951 LIFE, vintage image from January 1963 Vogue

It's Time For Some Pretty...

So.

It's been awhile since I've posted some aimless, thesis-less, pointless pretty.

Let's get down to business...

Pretty business.

Let's begin:

Tulle and pearls and inky eyes. Lovely.

Fuzzy Wuzzy wuzza Bunny... adorable.

BONJOUR, PARIS! Let's go dancing down the avenue.

White Contemplation...

Chapeau, frock, and feet!

Black White and So Pretty.

I don't know what I love most... the dress, the wallpaper, or the pillows...

Evan Rachel Wood as the Queen of Louisiana... Someone find me a creme suit and pearls!

There are no words.

A killer quote from the Killers, and a stellar plan of action.

It's not easy being green...

And a little memory of my climb of some 14ers in Colorado

Cup of tea and a reverie...

Gorgeous. And she looks like my mother.

50's rendezvous, whispering sweet nothings...

A roll in the wheat with some fabulous shoes.

Green Goddess on the Red Carpet.

Hold me tight, lover mine.

All on a golden afternoon....

Thursday! It can't be! It's too gruesome!

Darlings! Guess what I'm reading?

None other than Truman Capote's immortalized novella...

Haven't watched the movie in awhile... I'm waiting to see how different the book is. But I also find myself humming MoonRiver while I amble down Pearl Street. (Henry Mancini, you set the 60's to music...).

Holly: You know those days when you get the mean reds?

Paul: The mean reds? You mean like the blues?

Holly: No. The blues are because you're getting fat and maybe it's been raining too long; you're just sad, that's all. The mean reds are horrible. Suddenly you're afraid and you don't know what you're afraid of. Do you ever get that feeling?

Paul: Sure.

Holly: Well, when I get it the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!

Holly: What do you do, anyway?

Paul: I'm a writer, I guess.

Holly: You guess? Don't you know?

Paul: OK, positive statement. Ringing affirmative. I'm a writer.

Holly: It's useful being top banana in the shock department.

Holly: I'll never get used to anything. Anybody that does, they might as well be dead.

Music of the Day:

Oh, Ella.

My impulse purchase of the day was a cd of Ella Fitzgerald's ballads. You know those moments when you walk into the cd store and you hear something that makes you want to close your eyes and listen, and you get completely distracted from your original purpose? That was me today. I made the guy take the cd out of the player so I could buy it (used. I recycle.) Because she was singing my song of the day.

It was written high above, that I have to have your love,

or I'll never be free.

And cloudy though the day be, crazy though I may be,

what the stars foretold shall be.

Here as in a daydream, by my side you stand,

here with my tomorrows in your hands.

photos: Ella Fitzgerald, Stars from vi.sualize.us

Craving Constructive Function or: How Seeking Gainful Employment Can Inspire an Homage to Gay Paris

5 months ago, I thought Summer Break was a thing of the past, to be relished by school children and educators.

3 months ago, I reveled in my impromptu Summer Break and the feeling of weightlessness that accompanied the gigantic blank space (with a Flatiron backdrop) that constituted my future.

Today, I am antsy.

I'm itching for employment, for a chance to dive into a project, to embrace a new corporate mentality, to WORK. I'm a naturally productive person and I thrive in environments of even the most rudimentary structure. And I detest spinning my wheels.

So today, with my noble white steed (read: mac), I ventured once more into the cyber world of job availability, to flaunt my assets and issue thinly veiled pleas for gainful employment. One thing led to another and I was inspired by one particular Denver advertising agency to take a brief flight of fancy over many miles of land and sea. Because, you see, once you begin to think about all the gorgeous imagery of Parisian origin, and, particularly, the movies and photographers that make it so accessible to day-dreaming Americans, it's hard to resist the urge to cull some visual stimulation.

And thus, I give you my side-track for the day; an ode to Audrey Hepburn and Audrey Tautou, to Annie Leibovitz and Richard Avedon, to Leslie Caron, to the lesser known artistry of Rodney Smith and Enid Robbie and my new favorite Kent Miles, in admiration of the wonderful things that an accent on the é can do.

Bonjour, Paris.

photo from the whimsical Sparkles and Crumbs (go visit!).

Don't you want to be here?

I have yet to see an example of when Annie Leibovitz and a fisheye lens can't make magic.

A new discovery: Kent Miles.

The man has an eye for black and white art.

The inimitable Richard Avedon, the great initiator of art/fashion photogrophy.

Another image from Sparkles and Crumbs.

Please take me here.

A view of paris, indeed.

A still from Amelie. Cinematography to inspire.

Kent Miles catches a cleric descending the Montmartre stairs.

Leslie Caron, fairy princess for all Americans in Paris.

Enid Robbie's watercolor of Notre Dame, an intuitive gradation of color and detail. Close your eyes and listen to the bells and send a hello to Quasi Modo.

Avedon catching the Moulin Rouge in Black and White.

Rodney Smith making me wish I could print off his work in life-size format.

Oh, Audrey. Oh, Givenchy. Oh, Nike.

Enough daydreaming. Time to take a note from Avedon's model and skip away. Now, where did I put my umbrella?