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Monthly archive April, 2011

baked!

by oisercage on Apr 28, 2011 • No Comments

There is nothing more perfect to be in than clothes that feel as though they were second skin. A comfort for which you had to make no effort. It is like talking to a good old friend. Even if a year has passed since you last spoke, you welcome them as if you had seen them yesterday. You just leap over those months to find that same conviviality you once shared!

The most comfortable and friendliest piece in this outfit are the ballet flats. I’ve worn to bits. When I went to Buenos Aires two years ago I only brought those black flats. It was during the beginning of Spring so every time I slip these on – they are slack after so much wear – I remember the hot cobblestone pavement, the aggressive mix of primary colors they use to paint buildings, the dancing, the cadence of their voices and the way they stare when they say “Que cosa?”, a trickle of that Italian heritage sipping through.

The Travelling Flats in the restaurant Patio Baires, Buenos Aires

Details on today’s outfit:

T-shirt >>> Kurios, San Diego, CA

Necklace >>> Flea market, Madrid, Spain

Jeans >>> Express Jeans repurposed

Flats >>> Urban Outfitters

Earrings >>> Artisanal Fair, Madrid, Spain

Hat >>> Local fair, Havana, Cuba
These shorts were the perfect pair of jeans. They sat snug on my hips and didn’t even require a belt. But they were four years old and torn below the bum. Still, I loved them too much to let them go.

I think they make the perfect pair of shorts.

best in show

glowing skin, unexpected gifts, emerson

by oisercage on Apr 28, 2011 • 2 Comments

This week I’m loving :

carrots >>> I think carrots are better than tans. Admittedly I can go without tanning. I once walked into a tanning salon and the receptionist looked at me like I was lost, wich I was. I went in to ask for directions. He looked relieved. But research shows that carrots (carotene, to be precise) makes your skin glow.

trip planning >>> I feel ridiculously blessed and grateful that I can go anywhere at all but on top of that I get to Germany in June. I have never been! I’m rather excited. I want to see these landmarks, eat bratwurst and of course guzzle beer. I might shop if the US Dollar’s not wheezing that week.

good pizza, Sunday flowers, Farmer’s markets, tart green freckled oranges with cheese, walnuts

Georgetown walks

Pedro Almodovar and his frantic narratives >>> Just re-watched the film Talk to Her (Habla Con Ella)

unexpected gifts >>> Thanks Leah from Florida :) I will be wearing that gift in the Style Section this Friday (tomorrow).

wild thyme >>> I kind of miss gardening despite all my belly-aching about it when I lived home with my parents. My mother has a green thumb and gardens 6 hours a day when she has free time! I brought this back from Florida years ago and it just keeps going and going.

These items from a Milan furnishing show tickled my fancy. The New York Times did several pieces on the designs. Check it out here. I love this imaginative teapot by Maria Volokhov. It looks more like a decorate biblot that something to use to make breakfast every morning. And, therein lies its charm.

Emerson. I never tire of him. Ever. Here’s why: Emerson is like my own personal hotline. His multifarious writing is philosophy for people who might read self-help before bed. It’s candid and gets straight to the point. Also he’s a great maker of quotes though I think he once wrote, “I hate quotes, tell me what you know.”

“There is a time in every man’s education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion.” – Self Reliance

I’ve been thinking about that a lot this week, about the difference between admiration and imitation. Admiration inspires me to do as another person did but not what the other person did. Imitation seems like the loss of self-respect. What’s wonderful about you? Always harvest that.

Art Inspiring Art

The painter El Greco painted scenes so vibrant they almost look psychedelic except that he preferred soft undulating curves rather than boxy geometric shapes. Here he painted the sky in a scence titled Christ Healing the Blind. Apparently he had studied in Venice and fallen in love with the bright colors and so he always added a touch of Venice veneer to his works. He painted Biblical scenes and ordinary portraits in the same style. Everyone must be exhaled if he wished to be painted by El Greco. All the figures look like they are taking part in an ballet of earthly angels – their limbs overstretched, their eyes glazed over, transfixed.

Photo from Art Bible.net

And yesterday (Wednesday) I played El Greco on Instagram. El Greco because his family was from Greece and his name is Doménikos Theotokópoulos, unpronounceable for most of his compatriots. He was born in Toledo, Spain.

I took this pictures on the iphone 3GS with the App Instagram. A tornado watch was in effect for Washignton DC. The clouds were raging and the wind howled…

Then there was a great migration in the sky as the clouds grew larger and it got dark.

But then a blinding sun shone from the cracks between the clouds and I knew it was not going to be so bad…

The storm passed us and moved on to Virginia where the tornado made landfall.

We only had a spatter of rain as night fell…

P.S: Sending lots of love out to the Southern states where a string of tornadoes is doing scary damage. May you be well!

life*style

floating on the wind

by oisercage on Apr 27, 2011 • No Comments

This skirt fans outs like an abanico you’d buy at the makeshift concession stand before a flamenco show and it billows out with the wind, making my steps lighter, which I love on days like this when it’s too hot to sit. Even the soles of my feet are hot. I want to walk around barefoot on the cold concrete. Indoors, I don’t wear shoes.

Even with the shades down the walls give off a hot spicy breath that makes the skin itch. It’s almost cooler to be outside floating on the wind…

Maybe I’ll take a nap somewhere in the sun!

Details:

Skirt >>> thrifted, from Mom

Jacket >>> local boutique, DC

Tank >>> H&M

Sandals >>> Forever 21

Watch >>> Stradivarius

Necklace >>> Artesanal Fair, Madrid

life*style

passage to india

by oisercage on Apr 26, 2011 • No Comments

This outfit reminds me of India because the print seems like something that one might vaguely call “Indian.” I don’t know many things about India. But, I do know that Indians have had a long tradition of writing, dating back before the Christian Era.

I once read an Indian epic, The Mahabarata, a book that seems to take great leaps away from reality. It’s akin to the Greek epics in terms of literary and cultural importance. India is also the last stronghold of the belletrist relic called The Typewriter. Some writers have a fetish for typewriters.

I learned to type on a typewriter when I was 11 years old. This was back in a Haiti in our two room (not two bed-room) apartment. My oldest cousins had come to stay with us for a while and so they each taught me what they thought would be useful to a young girl of 11 to know. My cousin Myrtha taught me to braid hair. Now that I think about it, she probably taught me to braid so that I would have tame her wild mane. She had gorgeous unruly hair that she tightened into plaits. Her brother, Antonio, taught me how to type. He was studying at the university at the time. He was the first person I knew who was studying at something called “university.” He was also the only person I knew who typed anything at all and then retyped it if he wasn’t pleased with the way it looked -an arduous exercise in my opinion.

I preferred writing long-hand, which is the way everyone in my school wrote our essays and exams. But he said it was a good skill to learn. So we pushed aside the plates of left-over food on the table and put the typewriter on.

I hated typing. I almost preferred braiding.

It was about a year and half later when I was in New York that I appreciated his lesson. I was in junior high school then. Some students had computers at home and our teachers began to expect typed copy of the longer assignments. I had never used a computer except in the Computer Lab class where we were told to play the game Where in the World is Carmen San Diego to get comfortable with the new technology.

That year my father gave me a typewriter he bought at the Salvation Army. For years I used that machine to write my essays and school reports. I would write things longhand and then type them up. It was hell! I wanted a computer but we could not afford it.

I was a sophomore in high school when I finally had a functioning computer at home.

But now I have this nostalgic feeling about typewriters. I learned so much on them…It’s the special feeling you might have for a wild horse you’ve finally domesticated :)

And, I’ve just read that the last typewriter manufacturer in the world, Godrej and Boyce from Mumbai, India, closed shop this month. No more of the patter of stubby digits on pearly keys. Typewriters are now collectibles.

Details:

Skirt >>> Anthropologie

Shirt >>> Express, 6 years old

Shoes >>> Camper

Belt >>> Forever 21, came with a skirt

Bracelet >>> Stradivarius

Beads >>> Havana, Cuba (Clever eco-jewelry. These are beans. The woman who sold them to me said they are not edible, just wild beans found in backyards and fields)