keith haring paints grace jones

i am torn between feeling both strange about and excited by the fact that this season keith haring has become, dare i say, trendy?! in the early 1980s, while enrolled in art school, haring discovered the thriving alternative art scene in new york, which worked outside of the system and took to the streets and subways. he made is mark with his own brand of bold and vibrant chalk drawings, creating hundreds, at times up to 40 in one day. haring died in 1990 from AIDS complications, and has since become as iconic as his counterpart jean-michel basquiat, or his own mentor, andy warhol. so i suppose it shouldn't come as much of a surprise now, with this whole resurgence of nineties "cool", that his art is resurrecting yet again by means of fashion. i myself enjoy it for nostalgic purposes; however, i do seriously wonder if the youngsters these brands are targeting will have any idea whatsoever just who he was or what he stood for.

at karmaloop we not only sell a line of keith haring jewelry by the brand noir, but we are also carrying wall decals by blik walgraphics, and tee shirts from the brands public library & trash and luxury. 

shoe designer, nicholas kirkwood, will be coming out with a line of kicks come february of 2011. it's a 12 piece collection which came to be after the designer was inspired by viewing a documentary which portrayed the artist's prolific life. he thus approached the keith haring foundation to pitch his idea. functional? perhaps not. awesome? oh yes.

                                                                                                                           style.com

alexander mcqueen

one thing i truly miss about living in portugal (excluding the obvious) is european zara. when i was first bamboozled by the shopping opportunities in porto, i was indeed overwhelmed. it occurred when i discovered, during my wide expanses of free time to explore the city all by my lonesome and deplete my limited european currency, the shopping mecca that is rua de santa catarina.

located in the heart of the historic city, this pedestrian only road is jam-packed with businesses and is a real shopper's delight. while there may have been some serious gems to be unearthed in the realm of fancy boutiques (particularly those featuring european-made leather shoes) i could not afford such luxurious splurging. and being the bargain hunter that i am, i am proud to say that i even located what seemed to be the city's only vintage clothing shop in an entirely hidden locale. it is there where i purchased my favorite jacket; a brown leather, fox-fur collared number from the 1970s.

although there were surprisingly a variety of reasonably priced shopping options on rua de santa catarina, it did not take long for me to shake off the initial fever i had for all things foreign; upon closer observation one could easily distinguish the poor quality of shockingly cheap pieces per the ill-fitting shapes, fraying seams, starchy fabrics, and faux-leather stank. and so i learned things aren't always what they seem. i should have trusted my instincts with the incipient deterrence due in full to the over abundance of harem pants seen worn in the city. forgive me, but i have never been a big fan of the just-crapped-my-pants look. this being said, this street also offered the best zara store i had ever come across; the boston location, and even the fifth avenue spot in manhattan, are significantly lacking in comparison. boasting two spacious floors of perfectly arranged, color and size coordinated displays, this place was a dream. the upper floor itself was sufficient, comparable to but far superior than the more youthful line sold at H&M; edgy, unique, well-made, and fairly priced. the store also included a full-on shoe section, and not just mismatched pairs haphazardly strewn on the bottom shelves of displays as per the norm.

i am permitting myself to have some blatantly girlish and materialistic moments these days, and in taking a gander at the special zara casual line for fall 2010, suffice it to say that this is one of said moments. i lurve these looks. always a hippie at heart, i'll never shy away from the ways in which bohemian looks emerge resurrected and evolved and fresh. chunky over-sized knits, military pieces, florals, ethnic prints and the mixing and matching of everything; accented by thin belts and fringe and toughened up slightly by a good old lace-up boot. all this talk makes me want to watch hair. so i'm partial to homeless lady chic and unafraid to admit that each time the tabloids came down hard on mary-kate olsen for looking disheveled, broke-down and cracked-out, i was always secretly swooning.

tierney gearon; explosure

swoon

anyone who has ever stepped foot in a room of mine would immediately note my fancy for all things wooden in nature. and not just standard furniture, but quite literally i.e. tree trunk votives, a tree slice jewelry box, giant birch tree tapestry, actual branches et al. i am constantly attempting to talk myself out of purchasing more of these pieces so as to avoid the space beginning to look redundant; i've never been keen on themes.

on that note, i am trying ever so hard to not succumb to temptations to deplete my checking account for one of these numbers. anzfer farms, a company which i discovered during my countless hours of etsy scouring, was created by the talented duo of jonathan anzalone & joseph ferriso. founded in 2009, they are based out of san francisco and work primarily with reclaimed wood to create these comfortingly natural, beautifully simple objects. behold:

change

the homeless lady outside park street station has taken to wearing a united states postal service envelope on her head, which she has adorned ever so beautifully with an array of straggly pigeon feathers.

last week, in the bagel shop next door to my office, i witnessed a homeless man with an exposed elbow bone lurch in and begin shoving containers of vegetable cream cheese down the front of his sweat pants, all whilst staring blankly into the eyes of the cashiers. he was, of course, escorted out. the containers were then returned to the shelves uncleaned. at first i thought, cream cheese was an interesting choice . i imagined him sitting beneath a tree in the boston common with crazy eyes, salivating, scooping it all up, dirty fingers to mouth. then i taste tested the cream cheese myself and it all made sense; i would have done much the same.

my eleven year old niece was almost hit by a car this weekend in davis square, but i managed to pull her out of harm's way. she found it humorous to proclaim that i had saved her life. for her birthday i gifted her a feminist book entitled the daring book for girls, which she already owned. we ate fried pickles together and discussed ripley's believe it or not inspired facts. she is an old soul. at 8am this morning i too was almost hit by a car; it was far too early for such a fright. on my walk home from work i purchased a cactus. at first i selected a neat, tall, uniform looking one because it was the most aesthetically pleasing. i then walked to and from the checkout counter three times, entirely vexed by my decision, before ultimately returning to put back the handsome guy and choose the pot i had been eying from the start; two crooked, dopey looking peruvian old man cacti with a hairy, miniature poof at their feet. they come across as a dysfunctional succulent family posing for a portrait. i am curious as to whether or not my selection has symbolic significance; coincidentally, i have been recently perturbed by a date i experienced during which i was utterly intrigued by a terribly unattractive man.

my 27th birhday was on friday. this makes me sad, though i take solace in the fact that most think i'm still an undergraduate. i can no longer recall the names of my undergraduate professors. no one at work was aware it was my birthday, and it felt much like elementary school again...that strange day dream i have where i announce to one and all that they must treat me especially nice on my special day and i am showered with compliments and attention. but the reality is that i keep so mum about that i myself forget that it is different than any other ordinary day. in spite of this, dinner was delightful. to drink- a mixed one with rain vodka, st. germain, fresh grapefruit and ginger cinzano. to eat- chicken fried vermont quail with compressed watermelon, b&b pickles, and tabasco honey. also, french gnocchi. then peach melba with compressed peaches, seasonal fruit sauce, basil ice cream & honeycomb, c/o hungry mother. please go there.

we went camping in the white mountains on sunday night. i forget how nice it feels to sometimes flee the city. the air up there is like home, frigidity and all. i am constantly brought back to my autumn trips to vermont with my father as a child; how i was convinced it was the most beautiful place on earth, and how i vowed at the tender age eight that i would settle there to live amidst the hippies and foliage and maples forever and aver amen. in woodstock i purchased a vintage inspired radio for my AM (radio) AM (morningtime) listening pleasure. i also scored a set of vintage test tubes i am using as flower vases, as well an antique frying basket which i am now utilizing as desktop storage. the old woman who sold it to me wore hot pink lipstick and even in her senility found me completely bizarre.

i spent the majority of last week moving into a new apartment. being that i abandoned most of my belongings upon moving to europe at exactly this time last year, i have cut down the bulk of my accouterments and am living as minimally as i ever have (which for a true pack-rat is a great achievement). in doing so, and in the process of unpacking, i realized the small joys i keep from the things i do find myself carrying from place to place. it is no secret that i prefer objects that hold meaning; nearly everything i own comes from years of prior use, by myself or by some unknown stranger, and each has a story. looking around me i am so soothed by what i see, and in my head i am constantly telling these stories to some imaginary person in the fashion of a seasoned tour guide.