faves…
So I’ve been perusing the photos from Milan fashion week and Style.com has a nice spread of street photos taken by Tommy Ton. Yeah, I know, everyone wants to be just like The Sartorialist but I gotta say…quietly…I might like this guy better. The Sartorialist is beholden to his models and his old, rich, european fellows and this new guy, Tommy Ton, can just take shots of everyone! It seems he goes for the more voyeuristic angles and it also seems as though he might also have a foot fetish. Here are my favorites:
Ok, first, you know me, I love pictures of hair. And this one is so lovely with all the movement. (click on the picture to see a larger version) They look like the Black Bag Brigade. Second, not sure what is going on with the feather thing but I can totally get on board with that. I especially love the girl in the background getting caught red handed eating her invitation. She’s so hungry! Lastly, I don’t care much for these shoes but its the gold nail polish that they’re wearing. I must have it!
Emilily is discussing. 
Carmen is discussing. 
Olga are discussing. 
Lastly, here is an interesting notebook company. You subscribe to their 
Kirk von Rohr, 
mia, and 
I think I had some sort of co-ed faux-progressive home economics class in high school, but I don’t remember learning anything useful in there. They certainly didn’t tell me about all the paperwork. And this seems like a serious omission, because being an adult requires a TON of paperwork. I am pretty sure, even if I were to do nothing productive with my life, I would still be generating a paper trail. Forms, records, receipts, contracts, warranties, rebates, policies, statements, transcripts…for crying out loud, we have more words for paperwork than eskimos have for snow! And as tempting as it may be to stuff it all in a shoebox and toss it under the bed (the metaphorical shoe box of course, because if all you have fits in a shoebox, you’re probably not old enough to be wearing shoes) or to simply lose it along the way, this is not really the wise or responsible thing to do. Someday you might need it. Someday, they might show up on your doorstep asking for documentation. Proof of life, of the right to exist, your claim on your identity – in alphabetical order please. And so, I spent the morning filing.
Ma, and 
…that Marc Jacobs is playing an evil joke on us all this season.
My second favorite part of New Orleans (the architecture was first, the food third) was the cemetery. According to the map, there are two main cemeteries, Lafayette One and Lafayette Two, but we only made it to the first. Cemeteries, by their nature, have an aura about them that makes me feel they should only be visited under the cover of darkness, preferably on a moonless night, with a thick layer of mist rolling over the horizon and the sound of wolves howling in the distance. So it felt odd to be walking through the tall, wrought iron gates in the blazing hot afternoon sun. Add to the oddness – then there was this guy, gravedigger Shawn. He was rounding up the few visitors for what he referred to as the last tour of the day. My first thought was, “oh, awesome, I didn’t know there was a cemetery tour, the pamphlet didn’t say anything about this…” and my second thought was “hey, the pamphlet didn’t say anything about this…” 
And although I try not discriminate against people who are missing most of their teeth, just because you have really dirty hands and are walking around a cemetery with a broom does not make you the gravedigger; it does not even prove you are the gardener, the tour guide, or the officially sanctioned welcome wagon. In his defense, he also had a pad of post-it notes with the Lafayette Cemetery logo stamped on them, a fanny pack that appeared to be stuffed full of leaves, and a laminate badge of indistinct design whose only claim to validity was the fact that it was laminated. None of that stopped Shawn from launching into what proved to be a lengthy, rambling, poorly-enunciated speech on why the bodies were stored above ground, how the headstones were unsealed, and what he would do if he accidentally got trapped inside a casket with a pretty lady. At this point, Mia and I had concluded that this guy was probably not a gravedigger, but just a resourceful individual with access to a Kinko’s, knowledge of the area, a flair for oration, and most likely a substance abuse problem. 
Emilily 5:06 pm on September 30, 2009 Permalink
Yes, I just discovered Tommy Ton today, too! I was reading Garance D’or, and saw that she was sitting in the front row at D&G with two bloggers I did not recognize. I like his most recent post that he likes fan mail with illustrations…perhaps some self-promoting fan mail is in order! One thing The Sartorialist does better is the whimsical titles…I get the feeling that he loves each and every picture he posts, whereas the the Jak & Jil blog is a little more just snap the shot and throw it out there. On the other hand, I appreciate the lack of any ads, specifically those annoying American Apparel ones, on Jak & Jil.
Oh man, do I love feathers and gold nail polish. at the same time even.
Emilily 1:07 pm on October 1, 2009 Permalink
An update on the gold toenails: there are a number of brands that do a gold-ish polish, but to get that smooth chrome, I think you have to use these: Minx nails.