Stupid Economy

Nothing like being one of three final candidates from over a hundred people that applied for a dream job at MoMA, and having the joint go on a hiring freeze for the next couple of months. (At least they finally called today to tell me that.) Grumble.

Published!

An online guide called Schmap.com snatched one of my photos from Flickr of the Arena in Verona, Italy with my permission and published it online here.

No, they didn't pay me. And yes, I'm giving them a free link.

Oh Sue!

I have always had a secret love for Sue Simmons on WNBC's Channel 4 News at 11. She always seems half-drunk, cracks wise way more than she should, and is simply far too goofy with her non sequiturs to be paid an alleged $2.5 million bux a year to read the news twice a day.

She went overboard on Monday night during a live promo for the 11:00 news, screaming out "WTF are you doing??" over a news clip. Too funny. They better not fire her for something so silly, especially considering practically every New Yorker uses the phrase WTF about 10 times a day. She did apologize, after all. Enjoy!

Paris, I Love You But You’re Bringing Me Down

This series of posts on Paris from The Morning News, written by one of their co-editor-in-chiefs are very entertaining. The guy is really good with a turn of phrase. Funny, and sometimes gorgeous stuff.

NY Times movie summaries

I love the writer(s) who does the movie encapsulations in the TV listings of the NY Times. Must be one of the best jobs ever: watch movies, and write an under twenty-word, often hilarious, sometimes snarky summation of the film.

Here are some choice examples from the past couple of days:
The DaVinci Code - "Religious mystery could rock foundations of Christianity. What's up with Hanks's hair?"
Practical Magic - "Sisters resist family legacy: witchcraft. Barbie joins a coven."
Fargo - "Coens' snowbound film noir, merry and macabre."
The Matrix Revolutions - "Ferocious machine assault on battered Zion. Stop frowning, Neo; it's finally over."
The Hills Have Eyes - "Bloodthirsty mutants hunt fresh meat. Awfully good at making you feel awful."
Seven - "Murders based on seven deadly sins. Deadly dull."
Twin Peaks: Fire Walk With Me - "Laura Palmer's last days, in prequel to Lynch series. Not the worst movie ever made, just seems that way."

Slate graciously provides a link.

The Loneliness of Technology

I've been tossing these ideas around in my head a lot lately, especially the more I travel and and rely on technology to keep me in touch with my "real life". So my postulaton is that all the technology today -- internets, texting, blackberry, myspace, facebook, online communities, caller ID, dating sites, etc. etc. -- that should lead to greater connectivity is actually more isolating. The more connected we are, the less we actually connect.

I think back to when I had no answering machine in college; then only had an answering machine with a landline that I shared with 5 other people. I met my first TWO boyfriends in SF in 1991-92 (yes, a nerd fucker from way back) using a thing called SF Net where you could chat with people at home and coffeehouses via a 1200 baud modem connection and a Procomm account. Got on the online with a UNIX shell account in '95 using some form of gopher (those commands Sparky wrote out for me!); remember the first use of a buggy browser called Mosiac that became Netscape; and so on. With each advance, the world became smaller and the personal circle bigger.

Back in my younger days (says granny), you'd call up people, make plans, meet up when you planned without calling back 5 times to check in, and that'd be it. You'd actually talk to someone to make plans. Or you'd walk down the street to see if they were at home sitting around. Eventually, we all "progressed" into being able to screen calls, or pick up messages using the answering machine, but I don't think that became a regular occurrance until the mid 90s. Before then, if you missed a call, you tried to guess who might have called but really have no way of knowing so didn't think about it much.

Most of my friends know that I hate the lengthy text message conversation, for to me, it seems to be a way to hold someone at arm's length, to not engage too TOO much (And my thumbs get sore, as they did composing this post almost entirely by Bberry.) I've surely used texting to keep distance with someone. Who hasn't been puzzled by the perceived 'tone' of a text, and asked a friend to help interpret? With the more ways we can send messages now, the less we actually communicate face to face. What we're missing is the ability to gauge and understand a person by their body language, an emotion written clearly on their face, or a catch in their voice: the most basic forms of human interaction are unavailable for interpretation.

We're so connected that if someone's out of touch for a few days or you are getting the high hat, you become painfully aware of it. Nope, no text. Nope, no message. Nope, no email. Yep, I'm out at 2 am, and I know there's been no reply because my damn phone is ALWAYS WITH ME. And you always know you didn't miss a message, because there are 5 different ways for someone to reach you, each finally appearing as a little yellow envelope on your phone signaling a hi. I do think, in retrospect, that I liked it better when I came home to a single blinking light, or a letter in a handmade envelope from a 40 oz bag in my mailbox, or a $50 phone bill because I spent 15 hours talking and laughing with my best friend in San Francisco.

I realize we have put ourselves in this position by getting Blackberries or whatever for work and personal use and, honestly, I do love (and by love, I mean addicted to) the positive things my little square waffle-iron like machine adds to my life. I seriously have a semi-panic attack when the phone goes out. I've always been an information junkie, so having Google Maps at my fingertips in any city in the world to help me find a street, or to text a friend for a quick confirmation, or to get on the web from the subway platform and find some dumb fact, or having a phone that works in every country (but Japan), or having email, or a blog, to keep in touch with people and dump your thoughts out on a page is often pretty durn cool. And sure, you could leave the phone at home, as I'm trying to do sometimes. Should be an easy habit to break, right?

Yet I'm thinking that all this technology leads to greater loneliness simply because we are all more aware of any silence or downtime. The times alone with no instant always-available connections are just that much louder.

Imus, Whatever

Sick of hearing about what a dick he is. I think that was no surprise, as he's been a known dick for a long time. I'm more interested in how dude looks. I've never seen him before, and he looks like a former cokehead washed up country music star. Totally surprised by the long gray hair.

Or maybe Rocky from Mask.

NYAMBL

Tonight's the last night for the Wednesday night bowling league V Magazine is part of at Leisure Time Bowling in the Port Authority. That's the acronym up there: New York All-Media Bowling League. Every time I see it typed out, I do a double take, thinking it actually says NAMBLA (North American Man-Boy Love Association), a group that is no stranger to controversy.

Anyhoo, we are currently 18th out of 18 teams, behind Gawker, Comedy Central, Jane, Maxim, GQ, and every single other team you can name. Our team consists of the art and production departments of V, and its embarrassing how badly we suck. As a midwesterner, I should be way better, but bowling's never been my game.

However, I suspect we get the most drunk off the beer towers, and look the best doing it.

God Bless the Red, White and Blue

I am feeling mighty chipper this week after the results of the midterm elections came rolling in. It's nice to have faith in your country and its citizens again after feeling like somewhat of stranger in a strange land at times over the past six years. As in: How in the HELL can people be so stupid as to keep voting for this guy and his party of idiots and crooks???

The Guardian thanks us for managing to get it together.

You are welcome.

RIP Johnny Apple

My favorite New York Times food writer, R.W. Apple, Jr. passed away a few weeks back, and it is simply a damn shame. His stories combined food and travel in the best fashion, in a way that made you long for the place he was talking about. I carried articles of his with me when I went to Hong Kong and Saigon, simply because reading those stories while on the subway made me dream about the places he described.

Calvin Trillin paid magnificent tribute to him in the The New Yorker as well.

The Geek Had It Coming

From today's New York Times coverage of a tourist from Texas who was stabbed randomly on the C train yesterday:

“He’s a smart, very bright kid,” his aunt said. “He’s not violent. He’s pretty passive.”

She described her nephew as a big science fiction and fantasy fan who used to collect Star Wars paraphernalia.

Poor guy, his mention in the paper of record also brings up his obsession with the Dork Arts. I'm sure he'll live that down with his friends and family, um..... never.

P.S. He's going to be okay and they nabbed the guy who was running amok stabbing people without provocation. At least he helped reinvigorate that early 90s vibe of "NYC is a SCARY place" by committing random crimes against tourists that are guaranteed to generate loads of media coverage.

Traveling and eating are about letting things happen...

...So says Mr. Anthony Bourdain, the best-selling author of Kitchen Confidential, among other titles. As much as I want to dislike his arrogant puss, the man talks some serious sense about food. Arrogance is always more tolerable when the person is dead-on about their topic. His No Reservations show on the Travel Channel is always entertaining, high on the gross-out factor (sharing a still-warm raw baby seal in Northern Quebec with an Inuit family), and highly recommended.

How America Eats

Taste of Home, a cooking magazine with the median age of readership around 60, has a circulation of 3.4 MILLION. (!!!) This blows my mind. For comparison's sake, V is 30,000 copies; This Old House is 1.2 million; Martha Stewart Living is 1.9 million, and things like Time and People have a circ around 3.5 to 4 million copies.

So there's this magazine primarily dealing in recipe exchanges that covers the canned soup/jello salad arena that ALSO has one of the top 15 circulations in America. It's impressive. As much as I'd like to think food habits have changed in America (with a wider variety of produce and known ingredients available everywhere, for starters), seeing these actual numbers show what the reality really is. Bottom line: people who cook at home like food that's convenient and simple to cook.

Check out their website for great pictures of the contributing cooks.

Duck Duck Goose

From last week's New York Times:
(In 2004 California passed a law banning the production and sale of foie gras by 2012.)

"I hope I'm retired by 2012," said Thomas Keller, owner of the French Laundry in the Napa Valley and Per Se in Manhattan, who believes the government should not tell people what to eat. "If force-feeding a duck is cruel, then packing chickens in a cage is cruel, and then the veal and the beef. We are all going to be vegetarians soon if they have their way. We should probably start converting now."

I have mixed feelings about foie gras. My mixed feelings coming down to -- Damn. Foie gras is gooooooood. I love foie gras. L-U-V LOVE it. It's really one of the most amazing foods on the planet, right up there with bacon, the original food of the gods. And I try not to think about animal cruelty in these cases because it down right ruins my appetite. If I were to examine any meat-eating too closely, I might I have to quit doing it, if I was unable to justify the total dominance of one creature over another by eating it. No thanks. I want to keep enjoying lamb; and duck; and pig; and goose and every other little delicious creature. Isn't this more about the laws of nature? Or something...whatever, I enjoy my meat, that much I know.

I was watching Anthony Bourdain's "No Reservations" show on the Travel Channel where dude seriously put away about 12 different foie gras dishes while eating somewhere in Montreal. I have no idea how anyone could put away that much of the rich, silky goodness that is foie gras and still walk around. But I definitely envied him.

On the same note, Bill Buford has a most amusing article in the May 1st issue of the New Yorker about butchering a pig fresh from the Union Square Greenmarket in his Manhattan kitchen. This, of course, after bringing the whole critter home on a Vespa; through the lobby of his doorman building; and up the elevator after scaring away another tenant, all the while carrying a whole pig only covered with a plastic sheet.

Another Average White Male

This story about my friend Sue Power's brother is down right unbelievable. Sue was my boss at This Old House for four years, and a finer boss and friend one could not have. When her brother went missing on August 1st last summer, she was completely beside herself trying to figure out what could have possibly happened to him to make him leave his life behind. She was sure he was still alive, always continually keeping the hope he would turn up.

And now he has.

She better get a good lawyer to get those film rights in place!

Auf Weidersein, Project Runway.

Chloe! C'Mon. How can a woman whose dresses all look like prom dresses without backs be American's next top fashion designer?? Amazing seams, sure, but the next big designer needs to make more than satiny-looking dresses without backs! While I wasn't that sold on Daniel V's, or Santino's collections either, I HATED boring old midget Chloe's stuff. Santino, for all his irritating traits, surprisingly had the best final collection, even with him toning his crazy styles down far too much for the finale. Bring back some of those crazy couture ruffles. But I'm not the expert. Heidi Klum, plus her two co-bitches in judging, Michael Kors and Elle-fashion-director- Nina-Garcia (whose name is always said in that long phrase, with Ms. Klum really putting on the Spanish accent), BLEW IT. Even if the job is with Banana Republic.

Ah well. The new season of America's Next Top Model has begun. I'm only an hour into the two hour premiere, and already six girls have cried on the first episode. Tyra has annoying hugged and comforted three, while getting "black" with two. Words do not describe how self-congratulatory and lame she is. Or how lame I am for watching the fifth season in a row.

V-Best

Here's an absolutely fantastic write-up of the place I work from The Sunday Times in London. V Magazine is truly like nothing else, and it also managed to ruin my life for the past 5 days by proving to be nearly impossible to print in Montreal.....




Fantasy & freedom
Following its own idiosyncratic creative path, V magazine goes where other fashion glossies fear to tread, says Colin McDowell

What magazine is twice as tall and wide as all the others, uses the photographers Mario Testino, Nick Knight, Nan Goldin, David Sims, Inez van Lamsweerde and Vinoodh Matadin, once featured Kate Moss on its cover wearing a beard, and describes itself as “unisex, but swinging both ways”?

*
The answer is V, a publication that makes other high-fashion glossies look about as exciting as a WI newsletter, and whose first five years are chronicled in a new book. For anyone interested in fashion, graphic design and the coolest of international lifestyles, V has consistently broken new ground, making each issue an instant collector’s item. Not since Andy Warhol’s Interview in the 1970s has there been anything as visually stimulating and shocking — or anything that has celebrated its creative freedom quite so playfully.

Published from chaotic offices in New York, the magazine is the brainchild of Stephen Gan, a Filipino with Chinese roots who moved to New York when he was 18. Gan is a visionary in the same spirit as the great Alexey Brodovitch, the creative director of Harper’s Bazaar in the 1930s (a role now held by Gan), who trained photographers such as Richard Avedon and Irving Penn.

Whereas most magazines today are launched principally to generate advertising revenue, and every new arrival apes and devalues those currently on the newsstands, Gan cheerfully and courageously does his own thing. V’s trademarks — apart from its size — are its bold layouts, typography and fashion photography. The visual power is apparent from its covers. Strong and challenging, they feature iconic faces such as Iman, Linda Evangelista and Kate Moss (one of Gan’s favourites), Missy Elliott, Alex Kapranos and Gwen Stefani. Nobody ever refuses the V cover. The contributors, too, are drawn from the creative A list, and include Salman Rushdie, Karl Lagerfeld, Miuccia Prada and Bruce Weber.

So, what of its fashion? Well, V likes a bit of bling, is in love with the LA music scene and gets excited over boybands and young male designers such as Raf Simons and Hedi Slimane. It also has its big-name favourites, including Dior, Chanel and Gucci, whose advertising pays the bills.

Yet its remit is wider than who is currently putting what on the world’s runways, or who is having a red-carpet moment. A feature dedicated to heroes spotlights people who have had a long-lasting impact on the creative world, including artists such as Victor Vasarely, film directors such as Michael Powell, who made the 1940s classics Black Narcissus and The Red Shoes, couturiers Yves Saint Laurent and Charles James, and luminaries of the design world such as Ettore Sottsass and Philippe Starck.

V has had the courage to put Trent Ford in an evening dress, create portraits of designers from hundreds of tiny runway shots of their shows, and give the Venice Biennale several pages long before Frieze and Art Basel became part of the fashion world. Its first cover was a Testino shot of Jude Law, who had made himself up as a bizarre-looking native. V has continued the boldness ever since.

Thirty years ago, fashion magazines were still exciting, original and different from each other because each one was a reflection of the personality and interests of its editor and art editor. Since then, the need to outsell rivals has robbed the fashion magazines of all their character. If you don’t believe me, collect a few of them, hide their titles, then see if you can tell any difference in the covers.

V is uniquely different. It is the idiosyncratic child of a passionate editorial team working with an editor who has incredibly sensitive antennae for the significance of the moment. The result is a cultural primer of art, music, film and fashion that amazes with every page of every issue. What other fashion magazine can you say that about?

V-Best: Best of V Magazine is published by Steidl (£80). Available from The Photographer’s Gallery; 020 7831 1772

The Not So Cold, Hard Facts of Life

I love when the newspaper spells something wrong, or messes up their facts. Perhaps it makes me feel smart - but my, it's sometimes DAMN funny. For example:

Best Porn Errors, as recounted in Mediaweek:
Fairchild Publications, publisher of Jane and Modern Bride, announced it will pull some 200,000 copies of YM Your Prom off newsstands after Studio 17, a prom-dress advertiser, mistakenly printed a child-porn Web site address in two of its six ad pages. Fairchild had put a total of 680,000 copies on newsstand in late December, but an estimated 75 percent had already been sold.

Correction of the Year from the Denver Daily News:
The Denver Daily News would like to offer a sincere apology for a typo in Wednesday’s Town Talk regarding New Jersey’s proposal to ban smoking in automobiles. It was not the author’s intention to call New Jersey ‘Jew Jersey.’

A full list of these fun-and-games is here.

What I Do for Work

I know people think I spend ALL DAY on line at work, which is partially true, but I also get to produce cool projects like this one. Visionaire 47: Taste was released last week with much acclaim and TONS of sales at Art Basel in Miami. John, my co-worker, is mortified that the AP picked up his Willy Wonka quote, and reprinted it in many locations, including Al-Jazeera. Not exactly what the Visionaire art asthetic demands...He is officially banned from talking to all reporters from here on out.

Ol' Charlie LeDuff

I've been reading terrific, first-person reports from the seedier-side-of-life by Charlie LeDuff in the New York Times for the past ten years. He had a brilliant column in The City section during the late 90s entitled "Bending Elbows", which essentially involved Charlie going to NYC dive bars and writing about whoever he met. I always wondered how he got that job, and assumed he was some old codger who conned his editors into publishing his drinking tales after working for years at the Times.

I liked his book Work and Other Sins, and even with a photo on the cover, and knowing he had won a Pulitzer Prize, I still thought he was some old boozebag on his last legs.

Imagine how surprised I was last night when I flipped on the Discovery Times (don't ask, I didn't know it existed either) channel and found that ol' Charlie has his own show called "Only In America." Imagine how much more surprised I was when it turned out that he's 39, and kind of a fox. His show presents a brand of Hunter S. Thompson "participatory journalism," where Charlie immerses himself each week into a subculture of America such as New York modeling, gay rodeos or arena football. The show is pretty funny, but veers dangerously close into being ALL about Charlie instead of about the story. Additionally, he's been accused of plagarism on several occasions. What's that saying - don't let the truth get in the way of a good story??

At any rate, he's certainly charismatic, and I bet in person, you'd either love him or want him killed instantly. P.S. I think he might look a little like Vincent Gallo.