July 29, 2011

‪el gato habla Español es mas que usualmente desagradable

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at Friday, July 29, 2011
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Color HEX

Color Name	Color HEX
AliceBlue	#F0F8FF
AntiqueWhite	#FAEBD7
Aqua	#00FFFF
Aquamarine	#7FFFD4
Azure	#F0FFFF
Beige	#F5F5DC
Bisque	#FFE4C4
Black	#000000
BlanchedAlmond	#FFEBCD
Blue	#0000FF
BlueViolet	#8A2BE2
Brown	#A52A2A
BurlyWood	#DEB887
CadetBlue	#5F9EA0
Chartreuse	#7FFF00
Chocolate	#D2691E
Coral	#FF7F50
CornflowerBlue	#6495ED
Cornsilk	#FFF8DC
Crimson	#DC143C
Cyan	#00FFFF
DarkBlue	#00008B
DarkCyan	#008B8B
DarkGoldenRod	#B8860B
DarkGray	#A9A9A9
DarkGreen	#006400
DarkKhaki	#BDB76B
DarkMagenta	#8B008B
DarkOliveGreen	#556B2F
Darkorange	#FF8C00
DarkOrchid	#9932CC
DarkRed	#8B0000
DarkSalmon	#E9967A
DarkSeaGreen	#8FBC8F
DarkSlateBlue	#483D8B
DarkSlateGray	#2F4F4F
DarkTurquoise	#00CED1
DarkViolet	#9400D3
DeepPink	#FF1493
DeepSkyBlue	#00BFFF
DimGray	#696969
DodgerBlue	#1E90FF
Feldspar	#D19275
FireBrick	#B22222
FloralWhite	#FFFAF0
ForestGreen	#228B22
Fuchsia	#FF00FF
Gainsboro	#DCDCDC
GhostWhite	#F8F8FF
Gold	#FFD700
GoldenRod	#DAA520
Gray	#808080
Green	#008000
GreenYellow	#ADFF2F
HoneyDew	#F0FFF0
HotPink	#FF69B4
IndianRed	#CD5C5C
Indigo	#4B0082
Ivory	#FFFFF0
Khaki	#F0E68C
Lavender	#E6E6FA
LavenderBlush	#FFF0F5
LawnGreen	#7CFC00
LemonChiffon	#FFFACD
LightBlue	#ADD8E6
LightCoral	#F08080
LightCyan	#E0FFFF
LightGoldenRodYellow	#FAFAD2
LightGrey	#D3D3D3
LightGreen	#90EE90
LightPink	#FFB6C1
LightSalmon	#FFA07A
LightSeaGreen	#20B2AA
LightSkyBlue	#87CEFA
LightSlateBlue	#8470FF
LightSlateGray	#778899
LightSteelBlue	#B0C4DE
LightYellow	#FFFFE0
Lime	#00FF00
LimeGreen	#32CD32
Linen	#FAF0E6
Magenta	#FF00FF
Maroon	#800000
MediumAquaMarine	#66CDAA
MediumBlue	#0000CD
MediumOrchid	#BA55D3
MediumPurple	#9370D8
MediumSeaGreen	#3CB371
MediumSlateBlue	#7B68EE
MediumSpringGreen	#00FA9A
MediumTurquoise	#48D1CC
MediumVioletRed	#C71585
MidnightBlue	#191970
MintCream	#F5FFFA
MistyRose	#FFE4E1
Moccasin	#FFE4B5
NavajoWhite	#FFDEAD
Navy	#000080
OldLace	#FDF5E6
Olive	#808000
OliveDrab	#6B8E23
Orange	#FFA500
OrangeRed	#FF4500
Orchid	#DA70D6
PaleGoldenRod	#EEE8AA
PaleGreen	#98FB98
PaleTurquoise	#AFEEEE
PaleVioletRed	#D87093
PapayaWhip	#FFEFD5
PeachPuff	#FFDAB9
Peru	#CD853F
Pink	#FFC0CB
Plum	#DDA0DD
PowderBlue	#B0E0E6
Purple	#800080
Red	#FF0000
RosyBrown	#BC8F8F
RoyalBlue	#4169E1
SaddleBrown	#8B4513
Salmon	#FA8072
SandyBrown	#F4A460
SeaGreen	#2E8B57
SeaShell	#FFF5EE
Sienna	#A0522D
Silver	#C0C0C0
SkyBlue	#87CEEB
SlateBlue	#6A5ACD
SlateGray	#708090
Snow	#FFFAFA
SpringGreen	#00FF7F
SteelBlue	#4682B4
Tan	#D2B48C
Teal	#008080
Thistle	#D8BFD8
Tomato	#FF6347
Turquoise	#40E0D0
Violet	#EE82EE
VioletRed	#D02090
Wheat	#F5DEB3
White	#FFFFFF
WhiteSmoke	#F5F5F5
Yellow	#FFFF00
YellowGreen	#9ACD32

...»See Ya

at Friday, July 29, 2011
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July 28, 2011

Is it the color of luxury? Black caviar, black pearls, black truffles, black diamonds, black stretch limos, Black Amex

FASHION’S NIGHT IN

THREE BEST FRIENDS EXPERIENCE FASHION’S NIGHT OUT ON THEIR OWN TERMS

Black. Is it the color of luxury? Black caviar, black pearls, black truffles, black diamonds, black stretch limos, Black Amex, Black Label, black Agent Provocateur underwear, Giorgio Armani Crema Nera. The greatest living golfer is black, and I think Leigh Lezark's black hair might just be more elegant than Grace Kelly's strawberry blonde tresses. As I am pondering these things, my BlackBerry starts blinking. A text from Myf Polykrom-Aufrère, she is in her Land Rover, Soho bound, headed my way.

Pilar, who is sitting across from me, expresses her skepticism about my contemplations by reminding me of the fact that I am wearing a camel turtleneck cardigan, a sand silk-charmeuse camisole and ecru knot-front jersey shorts, all by Alexander Wang, finished off with my beige leather Acne booties with a hickory wood platform. I pretend to be offended that she doesn’t agree with me by making a joke about the hickey she got from this cowboy looking guy at the Standard Hotel the night before. That doesn’t seem to shame her enough, so I ask her how many scabs and blisters she has on her feet from walking around in her cowhide Alaia hiking boots.

Of course Myf is an hour late and the only sensible way to make time pass in New York is to go on a culinary adventure so we take a cab to Babbo. Pilar orders the piccata al limone. I get the cappellacci with thyme and ricotta and in my boredom ask the waiter if he could serve the fifteen balls of doughy origami in arrangements of six and nine, telling him something about ancient Greek numerology. After yelling and gesturing around for fiveteen minutes he surrenders.

We realize that Myf might be hungry too, so we prepare for her arrival by separating the two entrées into three portions by any persnickety means necessary. Pilar’s plate, containing only six minuscule piccata, is easily split into three portions of two, but I worry that the waiter might get upset that I wasted his time if I reconfigure my 6-9 arrangement of cappellacci into three sets of five. However, the more immediate issue is that the plate contains four sage leaves.

Myf arrives and she is wearing a neoprene jacket over a sheer black Givenchy blouse, black satin shorts and some Hermes equestrian boots in the softest creamy caramel leather. Myf would never leave her boyfriend Dakota, but the way she looks I have to flirt with her.

“Hey priceless masterpiece that should be placed on top of the mantle for everyone to see and appreciate the greatness which is you,” I say before offering her the food that we have arranged on a plate we stole from an empty table because the waiter would not give me a third plate after he saw what I had done to my cappellacci.

She tells me she can’t eat, her waistline is expanding quicker than Israel’s borders from 1949 to 1967. I tell her that’s not funny, hasn’t she heard what happened to Galliano? She says that she didn’t mean it that way, it’s ok to make tasteless jokes as long as you’re just being ironic. Pilar and I finish our plates and share the plate we had so painstakingly prepared for Myf.

It’s Fashion’s Night Out and Pilar heard that the Face Hunter will be at Opening Ceremony, so that’s where we’re headed. It’s quite a walk but there are so many wonderful characters walking around the New York streets that we get there before I even know it. But when we arrive I begin to panic. There’s no line to get in, instead there’s just a crowd of people filling up the entire street, all waiting to see the Face Hunter and all the other things Opening Ceremony have prepared. I feel like I’m fated to never get in anywhere, Jack Kerouac always seemed to end up in Denver and I always seem to end up standing in line for boutique parties all night. Everybody seems just as desperate to get in as we are. One guy claims he’s Martin Margiela. Myf explains to me that the joke is that nobody has ever seen Martin Margiela’s face, but Pilar thinks it’s not a great joke either way.

Just being outside of Opening Ceremony is astonishing. They’ve hired some artisan food trucks and one of them is selling the most wonderful fried chicken and biscuits. I wish I had some truffle butter for the biscuit, but Whole Foods is probably closed by now. The chicken is still perfect though, it has the crispiest crust and it comes with a sauce that words can’t describe. It’s like Heinz ketchup is the Walkman, obsolete next to the iPod Touch that is this sauce. They’ve also decorated the street with some grandiose statues. They’re like Greek statues, but made of papier-mâché. The real Greek statues survived to this day, but these ones have a beautiful ephemerality to them. People say fashion is meaningless but these statues make a bold statement about mortality and they’ve been dressed up in the clothes that Opening Ceremony made for the blockbuster movie Tron Legacy, as well as the three way collaboration bag, a Three as Four x Tron x Opening Ceremony revival of the classic circle bag. Opening Ceremony has also hired somebody to put makeup on the statues. Pilar doesn’t like that because she thinks historical accuracy is important, but Myf disagrees.

A few people are getting in, yet everyone seems to be standing in place and we aren’t moving forward. Everything has stopped moving, slowed down to a glacial pace, the occasional phone light is blinking but everything else is the same, it’s as if we’re in the cockpit of a Boeing 777 at the cruising altitude of 40,000 feet except we’re not jetsetting anywhere. We’re not getting into Opening Ceremony tonight, I’m sad about missing the Chloe Sevigny exhibit which is accompanied by Charles Wing’s art but we have to make new plans. I overhear someone mentioning a party at the Soho Grand but I doubt I would fit in with the 20 dollars I have in my Bottega Veneta wallet. People with lots of money can gamble and people with little money shouldn’t gamble but I have no money at all so gambling is the only option I have. A house party it is.

I’m so upset about not getting in that I call my mom, I feel like it’s my fault because after all others were strutting in without even standing in line so I need some questions answered. I ask her if I ever slipped out of her hand as a baby, if she ever dropped me, perhaps on my head. But she has heard that question hundreds of times because I’ve asked her hundreds of times, so often that it has become a lifetime mother-daughter-in-joke, of course I know that she protected me as if I was her own eyeball which she would doubtlessly have stabbed in some ocular equivalent of seppuku had anything ever happened to me.

We are still a bit upset that Fashion’s Night Out wasn’t what we expected it to be, but we have to make the best of it. We decide to go to Pilar’s friend’s apartment, they didn’t want to come out and I kind of envy their decision. They live on 1st and A, ages away, if a New York minute is a second then we must have walked five New York hours, and my Acne booties are making me regret the joke I made about Pilar’s feet earlier. We buy some dollar slices of pizza on the way and suddenly any pain my feet might be in seems inconsequential.

We make it to the apartment and Anja, the friend from the previous paragraph, welcomes us. She lives there with her friend Antonella. They have a dog called Fox, who actually kind of looks like a baby fox. They tell me that he’s a real baby fox and not a dog but I’m not sure, someone played the same trick on me once with a dog that looked kind of like a baby polar bear even though he was really a German ice dog. There are a bunch of other people at the apartment and they all tell me that the dog is in fact a baby fox but they might be in on the joke.

Anja and Antonella both go to Parson’s, and they’re having a Gossip Girl marathon because the next season is starting in a few days and the plotline is so convoluted that they have to watch every episode again. They think Chuck is kind of hot, and although I personally prefer Dan’s witty sarcasm I don’t say anything because of how nice they have been. I also don’t tell them that there’s a flashback of all the relevant parts before each episode because I’m worried that they might get insulted.

The rest of the night we talk about fashion and their life in New York, I can’t believe all the things they know and all the misconceptions I had about New York and New Yorkers. Before I leave the apartment, they give me some great shopping recommendations and let me take a picture with them to put on Facebook. My Fashion’s Night Out certainly wasn’t what I expected: I didn’t visit any fashion shows and didn’t see any models traipsing around the East Village streets, but I had the best Fashion’s Night In of my life and learned that I sure have some model friends!

via figment.com

FASHION’S NIGHT IN THREE BEST FRIENDS EXPERIENCE FASHION’S NIGHT OUT ON THEIR OWN TERMS Black. Is it the color of luxury? Black caviar, black pearls, black truffles, black diamonds, black stretch limos, Black Amex, Black Label, black Agent Provocateur underwear, Giorgio Armani Crema Nera. The greate ...»See Ya

at Thursday, July 28, 2011
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3 Sex Pistols Video-FIRSTS

Sex Pistols

Sex Pistols FIRST American gig

Sid and Nancy Visit Mom

Sid Vicious Death

Sex Pistols

Atlanta

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Sid and Nancy

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Sid vicious

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DEATH

BBC