b is for blond bombshell

c is for corset

d is for dark beauty

e is for editorial

f is for freckles

g is for garland

h is for hollywood hotspot

i is for iconic

j is for jewels

k is for kate

l is for long locks

m is for mesh

n is for nails

o is for opulent

p is for pocket puppy

q is for quirky

r is for ruby lips

s is for spots

t is for tats

u is for underwear

v is for veil

w is for wallpaper

x is for criss cross

y is for yellow gold

z is for zipper

board #444: sparkle and bubbly
mood: girly and fun – and a little bit 80s?
palette: sweet lavender, gold sparkle

board #470: ivy & brick
mood: vintage urban
palette: brick and ivy green

board #408: peaches & pigs
mood: summer barbecue
palette: blush, sepia, pie crust, sage

board #418: rock-n-romance
mood: romantic rocker chic
palette: hot pink, bubblegum, rose, green, white

board #356: budget friendly, fiesta means party!
mood: casually festive
palette: watermelon pink, citrus yellow, lime green, white

on a recent la visit, my husband and i found a great gem on abbot kinney in venice called the juicy leaf. with the help of owner, felix, i planted a succulent in layers of small stones in a cylinder vase. he carefully wrapped it for my plane ride and i am currently enjoying it in my home. the juicy leaf also hosts planting parties – and if a store opens in new york as felix hopes, i will be on that bandwagon.

photo from knight cat.

knowing little about patti smith, i bought just kids, her new book about life with robert mapplethorpe. unable to put it down, i entered the magical world of new york city in the late 60s and 70s. this is my favorite time period to read about, and i devour books such as just kids and please kill me, fully romanticizing this era.

when smith and mapplethorpe share a hot dog at coney island because it’s all they can afford, my heart leapt. when standing outside in the cold, debating on whether their remaining dollar goes to a grilled cheese or art supplies, i cheered when the paint brushes won. and nothing seems more blissful than nights at their first apartment near pratt in brooklyn, playing the same record over and over, creating art and making lettuce soup.

but hunger is hunger which is never fun, especially for a tall, thin, speedy girl like smith. speedy, but not in a drug related way. smith was not into drugs and although mapplethorpe took the occasional acid hit, their lives were dedicated to art, which requires clarity and focus. the duo seems relatively grounded considering their presence at the chelsea hotel and max’s kansas city. beyond art, their devotion to each other, as only true soul mates have, is beautiful:

“robert and i were always ourselves – ’til the day he died, we were just exactly as we were when we met. and we loved each other. everybody wants to define everything. is it necessary to define love?”

here are some excerpts from christopher bollen’s interview with smith in interview magazine. to read the entire article, go here. better yet, pick up just kids.

Robert had different goals. He came from a different upbringing. His upbringing was Catholic, middle class, precise, military, well ordered, spanking clean. I came from a very chaotic household. I really believe that Robert sought not to destroy order, but to reorder, to reinvent, and to create a new order. I know that he always wanted to do something that no one else had done. That was very important to him. I was a little different. I always wanted to do what somebody else had already done—I wanted to write the next Peter Pan, the next Alice in Wonderland. I loved history, and I wanted to be a part of it. Robert wanted to break from history.

It’s very unfair to young struggling people. When I came to New York in the late ’60s, you could find an apartment for $50 or $60 a month. You could get a job in a bookstore or be a waitress and still live as an artist. You could have raw space. That’s been rendered impossible. I mean, my band lost its practice space and had to move out of town. They’re all fancy galleries. CBGB is now a fancy clothing store. The Bowery used to be home to winos, William Burroughs, and punk rockers. Now it’s a whole other scene. That’s part of New York’s tragedy and beauty. It’s a city of continual reinvention and transformation. I think the way things are going now is good for commerce, bad for art. Bad for the common man. [Mayor Michael] Bloomberg does not serve the common man. He serves the image of the city as a new shopping center. A place to get great meals. Little parks that make no sense. Places like Union Square, as if we were in Paris. We’re not Paris. We’re New York City. It’s a gritty city. It’s a place where you have all races and all walks of life, and that has always been its beauty. It’s the city of immigrants. It’s the city where you can start at the bottom. I feel the Bloomberg administration has reinvented the city as the new hip suburbia. It’s a tourist city. It’s really safe for tourists. I guess I liked it when it was a little less safe. Or I liked it when it was safer for artists. Now it’s unsafe for artists. I’m not saying this for myself. I’m saying this for the future of creative communities. Because, one day, all the people who have driven out the artists and have only these fancy condos left are going to turn around and say, “Why do I live here? There’s nothing happening!”

photo credits: interview magazine; smashbox studios

i’m posting some of my favorites – from top to bottom: upstate new york, los angeles, manhattan and paris. if you close one eye and squint the other, the los angeles home is reminiscent of our catskills rental. lovely.

a gift for the right person from 500 pencils. receive 25 pencils each month for 20 months. not for the impatient, this is all about the unhurried creative process. the names alone are half the fun:

drizzly afternoon
mild curry
spiffy
melton cloth
miss muffet
raccoon dog
amigo
tenderfoot
neptune
frog pond

from yimmy’s yayo.

this photo from desire to inspire is a great example. framed statements on cardboard look chic, and of course “make tacos, not war” are words that we should all live by.

photographs by william cronon, studier of american environmental history and the history of the american west. he is a professor at the university of wisconsin-madison, where i had the privilege of taking one of his classes and was recently featured as a commentator on ken burns’ the natural park series. for more stunning photographs – from wisconsin to iceland, go here.

a sweet door courtesy of atlanta bartlett. i can’t decide if the adorning flowers are a welcoming sign to enter or a declaration of privacy for whomever is inside.

photo from katee.wordpress.com

courtesy of tatjana via lookbook.nu and karl-heinrich lehmann via the met

from elene usdin via nistagmus

The phone rings.
“The Bistro,” I answer, “How can I help you?”
“What kind of cuisine do you serve?” a female voice asks.
“Northern Italian madam.”
“And what’s your sushi special tonight?”
I pause a moment.
“We don’t serve sushi madam.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re not a Japanese restaurant?”
The caller thinks about that for a sec.
“Do you serve tuna?” she asks.
“We do.”
“Can’t you make sushi out of that?”
“No.”
“Why not?” she asks incredulously.
“Because.”
“Oh.”
There’s a long pause. I can visualize this woman sucking her thumb.
“Would you like to make a reservation?” I ask
“No, I really wanted sushi tonight.”
“Sorry,” I verbally shrug.
“Could you suggest a place?” she asks testily.
I give her the name and number of a very expensive sushi house and hang up. I look at the clock and sigh. So far I’ve put in eighty hours at the Bistro. When Fluvio comes back this Sunday it’ll be 110 hours without a break. Phone calls like this threaten to destroy whatever sanity I have left. It’s time to self medicate.

photo credit: tracking it down