cut and paste...

i've had the most wonderful sunday so far...

woke up late and stuffed my face with warm apple pie and vanilla bean ice cream while watching back to back episodes of sex and the city on demand.

after that girlfest, i met up with my beloved sean for a semi-greasy, yet unbelievably delicious brunch at the newish cafe up the street. one bacon, egg and cheese sandwich and a couple of hours later, i finally decided to tackle one of my many DIY projects that's been waiting in the wings. a couple months ago i bought a truly heinous kitchen table at ikea that i abhor. it's pine and blocky and square; i hate it. so i figured i'd do something about it and decoupage my heart out.

so i headed over to my friendly neighborhood junk shop and sifted through about a million old magazines. popular science, popular mechanics, vogue, vanity fair, sheet music, and comics as far as the eye can see. briefly stopped to drool over an issue of Paper from 1995 with a pre-haggard thurston moore on the cover and a tiny article with my 8th grade mtv crush, squirt tv genius, jake fogelnest. a fellow rummager pointed out a hilarious headline from 1973 about how strip clubs provide lonely housewives with a much-needed sense of emotional fulfillment. finally narrowed my choices down to a handful and headed up to the sassy japanese guy enjoying a hoagie at the register. the total: $18.42. i had exactly 42 cents in my pocket. i felt the need to note this aloud and the guy at the counter responded in heavily accented english, "it's times like these that i find life is beautiful."

i walked home, smiling to myself.

out of touch...

i went out in the district tonight and recognized approximately 1% of the people i saw. to say that i am displeased by this observation would be a vast understatement.

snaps(hot)s...

on tuesday, i was idly moseying down broadway when i came face to face with a native american man. he can best be described by the following overly flowery sentence... he had two long braids of shiny ebony, no shirt, no pants, purple ladies' bikini briefs, black reeboks, a pair of ray-bans and was carrying a whole foods bag. that's it. he was the nakedest person i've seen thus far on the streets of new york and nobody seemed to care but me.

this morning, i was yet again idly moseying down broadway when a cute girl with rockabilly flair whizzed right by me, with a huge smile on her face. she had black hair tied into two tiny ponytails. i smiled to myself thinking, my, what a cheery girl. but then i noticed a fairly glossy man with feathered hair and love in his eyes. he smiled a gigantic smile and it was at this point that i recognized who he was... willem dafoe. then he took off skipping after the cute rockabilly girl. yes... willem dafoe is in love.

as soon as i manage to set aside some time to update this ol' thing, i promise to extrapolate on the following:

• a beach trip to jesus town
• my first meat-packing
• a long-lost londoner in the big apple (a tale of rooftop soirees, indulgent shopping excursions, japanese art porn and free booze as far as the eye can see)
• the best girldate i've had in months

love is fickle...

i'm no longer in love and i've returned you to your maker.

make way for something younger, hotter and less intrusive...

i think i love you...

a few days ago i was faced with a most important decision; should i indulge in yet another pair of shoes? and if i do, should i play it practical and go with a more or less basic shoe that will work with 70% of my wardrobe or should i follow my heart/sense of the absurd and purchase the whimsical statement shoe?

...

i think i'm in love.

well-dressed, well-coiffed, well-connected...

a few months after the renovation of our showroom was finally complete, we had our opening party/ICFF party. in true Design Week fashion, it was dazzling and our new space was all abuzz with the social twitter of the well-dressed, the well-coiffed, and the well-connected.

the party was an utter success, due mostly to the following:


slightly attractive male model/waiters who supplied the schmoozers with tasty hors d'oeuvres served on flashy grouted boards of glass mosaic tiles

tasty hors d'oeuvres


peace biscuit!!! new wave/throwback DJ extraordinaire with a tiny voice and a huge personality

my dress made a huge splash with the design-y sect. got lots o' compliments on my DVF - one fellow who was more than just a little reminiscent of that "i can't believe he's not a stud" fabio stopped me as i made me way from the dancefloor and demanded, "WHO does your dress?!" i responded in my flighty fashionista voice and he gasped a little, hand on chest, "ah! i LOVE diane."

between glasses of prosecco and sweaty twirls on the dancefloor, i managed to take a few piccies of various work-related people and their dates. there were a slew of fancy italian ladies in fabulous italian fabrics, jewel tones, and fine tweeds in unnatural colors.

spencer looked amazing in his new vest. tiya and aaron were both super festive/fab.

my new girllove, karen showed up with her fanciful friend and they danced the night away in adorable smock dresses and comically oversized spectacles.

at a respectable hour, the party began to wind down and we decided to go to dinner. reservations for 25 at Butter. holla.

indulged in a bit more booze, delicious sea bass and asparagus with shallots. tasty, tasty.


a more than satisfactory monday night...

lightstick's back... alright!

train to coney island. hot dogs. hippies/lightsticks/hipsters/2nd hand pot. dancing beefcake in tight red tank who totally looked like he belonged in a remake of saturday night fever. ran into college friends. amazing light show. robot helmets and seamless mash-ups.

long f-train ride home. standing up from coney island to park slope. possibly had a small world encounter with one half of that hipster dj duo i loved from pianos.

lessons learned:
daft punk shows are amazing
coney island is really far away
cowboy boots are not appropriate concert footwear.

on 11!

about a month ago, i turned 25. i went out. and now, a sufficient amount of time has finally passed, thus enabling me to view the following pictures without vomming...

bestill my beating middle school heart...

thanks to the goodwill of our italian bossman, we've taken on an italian intern for the next couple of weeks. we all had different ideas about what to expect of this european gopher - i had images of sweaty brows, overstuffed cheeks, over-tight pants and a marked propensity toward procrastination and sloth.

after much deliberation, i soon forgot that he would be joining us in the showroom this summer and continued on my merry way.

this morning, i breezed into work just a few minutes late and upon entering the back office, came face to face with the modern incarnation of all my middle school crushes rolled into one attractive european package. he's 20 years old. he's tan. he has long, layered blonde hair like the california surfing boys of my pre-pubescent dreams.

the next two weeks are going to be awesome.

i'm in a band...

this is the dudeliest i've ever looked...