You are the champion. Of the world. On your bike.
This mess bag falls in the "if you have to ask" category. Either you know the five stripes on white and your heart races a bit when encountering it and a little voice in your head screams "Allez! Allez!" or the whole thing is lost on you.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
You are the champion. Of the world. On your bike.
Bologna from Bologna and brains from Bologna, deep tracks from November's Florentine feeding frenzy... In honor of the lovely meats we will meet in next week in Thailand. And fruits. And noodley things. And spicy things.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
After hearing a shriek of delight upon viewing friend Christine's gold Barney's Birkenstocks, and realizing it wasn't her shriek, it became time to end all denial: this summer is the summer of neohippie.
There are fringe-y linen scarves. There is a gold geod necklace (yes, as in a rock). There is a pet duck that doesn't know she's our pet. Herbs scent the air: home-grown edibles plus Fresh's Cannabis Rose perfume plus marijuana from neighbor's devotion to wake and bake waft through the house. We ride bikes for pleasure, work, errand and pastry. But we never wear Lycra. We sew things. Kombucha is drunk.
Neohippie is not hippie. There may be jeans but they are, well, fancier than your average jean. Feet are bare and sandy but pedicured. Tie die does happen on occasion, but so does poshy Prada. Music is folk-y indie. But one might call Thom Yorke's swells and swoons speaking to the human condition folk. They are, after all, of the folk. No one is shaving or showering much. Cooking greens are composted.
It's metro back-to-the-land. Cat Stevens on an iPod. Dr. Bronner's for the outdoor shower. Buying less but buying better and using it longer. Homemade pickles. Xeriscape with Synlawn. Unironic moccasins.Of note, neohippie is not intentional nor was it acknowledged until it was upon us. Beset by Envirosax reusable grocery bags, Mrs. Meyers's geranium cleaning sundries, quilts made of old clothes and organic coffee, neohippie is undeniable rather than chosen. Neohippie does not preclude consumption of "Raw Bits" cereal, A Prairie Home Companion's Calvinist grist for those who specifically do not have a lifestyle. There is no manifesto, unless one counts chow intellectual Michael Pollan's "Eat food. Not so much. Mostly vegetables." And the chanting of this mantra can be ceased if one presented with a table of steamed crab and a pitcher of cocktails.
How big is this neohippie thing? Venice is inherently neohippie, yes. But not all of Venice is neohippie. Sometimes it's straight up hippie (next door neighbors). Sometimes it's straight-up hooligan Diseneyland or as much skid row as it is anything else. So let's not cast neohippie aspersions over the whole of the nabe. Or on others concerned with the planet's health, their health or the health of their bohemian righteousness. We're talking about one house, its friends and what it recycles, has and shares: hopefully more rather than less. Hopefully hopeful.
Monday, May 12, 2008
For tactile-key lovers, an iPhone is no substitute... for razzle dazzle lovers, a Blackberry is no substitute. Though still not convinced we can all get along, will say the BlackBerry Bold is a decent Switzerland.
(Resisting temptation to use a "The Bold and the Beautiful" one liner... mostly from not being sold yet rather than from any fundamental objection to soap opera references, which are glorious.) (via Notcot)
The Blue Steel of thermoses, which is to say, sporting of a markedly hotter look than all others combined.
Would travel with it if the dumb airlines did not mistake we self hydrationists for terrorists. Settle for using it on car trips, bike trips and beach trips. Suspect it would keep a jigger of martinis chillaxed. And inspire partakers to flash a few Blue Steels of their own.
St. Germain, c'est chouette. Made of Elderflowers from les Alpes, it adds perfumed complexity to martinis, especially those with fresh juice, and to tequila and rum cocktails. And to breakfast, cheris. After all, a liquor named for the most bohemian arrondissement should be enjoyed in none but a bohemian manner.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
It started with a thirst, a thirst for a new ride... Something light, smooth, simple, fast and easy on the eyes. The thirst and I, we sidled up to Venice's Bike Attack bike bar, ordered a single speed, they poured 49 inches of lovely SE Lager and that beaut quenched it. She quenched it good.
Perfect geometry, light for a cromo (steel) frame, and who doesn't love riding bullhorns (not this girl!). SE Lagers can be fixed or freewheel. You're going to want to rip off the goofy stickz and bar tape... But then she's as sweet as Triple Karmelit on wheels. And as fast.
And just as every good pour should be crowned with a lovely head, so, too, must the SE Lager, the Giro Skyla... Just in case this pint goes down too easy.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Voila, un aperitif dangereux: France's avant garde Isabel Marant + Abbott Kinney's Heist, le plus beau du quartier + le dollar, le plus faible du quartier (mais boujour mon tax refund beau!). Tchin-tchin, cheris. Et pardon mon franglais.
Love. Everything. Muji. Especially the prices: This aluminum caster-licious coffee table is $180 at MOMA store. I think it costs more to get into the musée MOCA, on whose site it's offered. And, Bonus!, you can perform surgery on this thing. If not on entire grownup people, at least on parts of them, like an arm or a neck. Or on pets.
"Look out! Look out! Pink elephants on parade, here they come, hippety hoppety!" Dumbo, my first movie theater experience: as I recall it was both a revelation and utterly terrifying. Sinister pink elephants! On parade! Clippety Cloppety. This 5-inch plastic MOMA store exclusive is decidedly less haunting. In part because there is no Coke-and-popcorn-and-Red Vines drunkenness. But, sadly, it doesn't ski like Dumbo's Technicolor pachyderms.