Astrological Pop Star Analysis

Not that I don't feel like dancin', but I dedicate this Friday to two pixieish blonde Swedish Gemini singers with soul:

Marie Fredriksson of timeless supergroup Roxette (b. May 30, 1958), and

Robyn (b. June 12, 1979), who dissed Madonna and lived to tell the tale (Gemini's bitch rating is A+++ according to this bit of genius). The similarities are striking, no?

Color Me Badd

Wow, this is uncomfortable. Looks like Steven Meisel is at it again:


Stealing my color scheme for a client's living room I based on this fabric:


J'accuse!

Kidding. I practically stole this from Mood (past season Oscar de la Renta chintz, perhaps?) months ago for 14 bucks a yard. It will make a molto chic-o room though -- do we like it paired with this geometric ikat?


It has the same cherry red and coral, and as much as I try to stick to a scheme the fun is in throwing it off. Right, missy?

Dying for y'all to see this one finished!!

Just Dance 3

This week we'll combine three of my passions: chairs, Janet, and militaria:



The whole shebang:



My sister and I used to stand in front of MTV to practice every last snap and clap. Honestly, Gaga should fire that Harpy Ann Gibson and dig Tina Landon out of obscurity. Zees is real choreography!!

On the Street

Commenter rubyhanoi sent me this trailer for Bill Cunningham New York, bound to be this season's The September Issue:



Who the hell DOES want a kitchen and a bathroom anyway?! (Visitors to the Lacquer Cave will know what I'm getting at. Okay, okay, so what if I turned off my gas stove because it burned the oil paint fumes and never turned it back on? The bathroom is another Greek tragedy.)

Anyway, The New Yorker called our beloved street style photographer a "fashion oblate," or "layperson who has dedicated his life to the tribe without becoming a part of it." That's sort of how I feel about R&B music of the early to mid-90s. I agree that fashion isn't dead, but what street lewks are we tiring of lately? I'll start:

- Urban Paul Bunyans in beards, Barbour coats, dark denim and Red Wing boots.
- Downtown girls with crispy curls. If you're wearing cutoffs and shredded tights your hair shouldn't look like Kim Zolciak's.
- Male jeggings. I'm not even sure if that's the right term, but what's going on with elastic bands on the boys' jeans/pants? These remind me of these.

What am I leaving out?

If You Like It Put a Shade On It

I love this demijohn-ish mercury glass lamp from West Elm, but wouldn't it look so much better with a black paper empire shade? They do this maddening thing in the store where the white drum is sold separately but you're required to buy it with ze lamp. Um?? Still not bad for $149.

Zee Friday Dance Party Wow Wow: Fashion Week Edition

Related: If you're not watching the best show on television it's time to start.

Work the Friday runway, sweeties!

Siza the Day

Back in the ol' undergrad architecture studio my second favorite model (next to an art-gallery-as-wedding-cake fiasco that boasted real icing and plastic columns) was a simple white chipboard affair with two planes ascending in opposite directions on a Flatiron-ish site.

My critic: "This is nice. Really reminds me of Alvaro Siza."

Me: "Who?"

Critic [to her colleague, bemused]: "Come here and look at this. Doesn't it look like Alvaro Siza? He came up with it all on his own."

I wanted to reply: "Um, duh, pretty ain't that difficult. It's your dependence on bogus theory and trendy language that really cramps my style."

Instead I just nodded, grateful they weren't ripping me yet another new one (see above re: wedding cake).

But today I walked by a bookstore window display pimping the venerable Portuguese Senor Siza Vieira and have to admit that his work is, in the words of Miley Cyrus, pretty cool:


Wikipedia calls it "poetic modernism" but I prefer "Corbusier Goes to Mykonos." He's still alive and I'd hire him to design my Pensacola Beach compound toots sweet.

Rider Strong

The face on this 'Gentleman Rider' resembles that of a Nazi villain in some also-ran '90s WWII movie like Shining Through (or Teddy Roosevelt, according to Pete), but the rest of composition is sort of fabulous, no?

My birthday is less than a month away. Who wants to win it for me at Doyle tomorrow?

Thanks in advance.

Dance Party Wow Wow Friday

See, I did it. This is how I want to lip synch sing, dress, and dance until forever. Would also burn all my coffee table books to have those legs. Happy weekend urrybody!

Chic of the Week

If I blogged more than twice a month I'd devote some time to regular features like "Dance Party Wow Wow Fridays", "What the French Call a Certain 'I Don't Know What'" and the title of this post. Then again, some weeks there just isn't any chic. At least in territory not already covered by Jennifer. But today I can't stop looking at this image from the March Veranda:

photograph by Max Kim-Bee

An entry hall of a big ol' Charles Platt house in Nashville, sublimely renovated and decorated by Gil Schafer and David Netto, respectively (both esteemed F.O.M.s, or Friends of Mugatu). Here's all you need to be chic this week:

- A tumbling block marble floor in shades of black, white, and the unexpected travertine/limestone
- A felt skirted table WITHOUT A GLASS TOP and some blue and white porcelain that didn't come from Pearl River
- Balloon-back French chairs with tatty old butterscotch leather seats
- A William Kent style console AND mirror, one chalky and one parcel gilt (if Christopher Hodsoll didn't make these I'm a monkey's uncle).
- A lamp that looks like something out of your stoner aunt's studio in Laurel Canyon.
- A Basquiat.

Easy enough, right?