Category Archives: Likeable Things

Good News Two.

Actually, the past few days have been filled with good news. Dave’s new band is playing their first show. A friend of mine made their goal on Kickstarter. The internet made well-deserved fun of Amanda Palmer*. Feeling’ groovy.

The Good News Number One is that I just sent off a big old box of stuff to Kat von D’s Wonderland Gallery, all the way out in La La Land!

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I am mucho, mondo excited to be under the same commercial roof as some of my favorite independent jewelry designers. Not only has this been a heartening experience for me, ego-wise, it really also helped me understand where my strengths and weaknesses are regarding wholesale. Not only that but, once the process began, the Wonderland staff were on top of their game. I hope that you like me, Hollywood. I’d love to send more stuff over to you and travel vicariously through my craft.

Speaking of travel, I took a short, short, so, so quick trip down to Jersey City, NJ for a day or two of mental clarity with some of my good friends from college.

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We went to yard sales and sunned ourselves and ate burgers. We walked a lot and hung out in the living room and drank beers. Lots of smiling and talking and giggling. I so deeply appreciate having people in my life who will, theoretically, hold out their hands so that I may just curl up in them and be carried around. I like my friendships that are currently based in place/proximity but, I love and respect the ones that now take place in time- creating days that can stretch over years. A year long absence that feels like it never existed and immediately goes unnoticed.

Also of news, Rhode Island voted “pro” on the issue of marriage equality and, tomorrow, Dave and I are going to Sparks play in New York. I can sum up both of those points with one picture:

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*I haven’t watched her TED Talk video but, my friends claim that, in an example of her “devoted fans”,  she Power Points her way past of photograph of them, taken the day that opened a show for her and were mysteriously denied the $500 they were to be paid. Insert a giant, sad face here.

29.

Yesterday was my favorite day: my birthday!

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Birthday, birthday, birthday! A day of near-limitless self-indulgence!

This year was maybe a little more low key than other years. On Friday, some of my out-of-town friends drove up. I immediately developed a raspy and unreliable throat to accompany my mild sinus infection. On Saturday, I spent 5 hours selling WC wares at New Urban Arts- a venture that was, by-the-hour, doubly as profitable as the Bust Craftacular. Wow.

The big events of this birthday were mostly loafing and eating. Sit, sit, sit. Eat, eat, eat. Super-cool chill time with friends. Divine! On Sunday, I dragged everyone to Wickford, RI with the purpose of having our auras photographed. According to the above photo, I am creative, communicative, and seeking of the divine (See: two sentences back) with a big, indigo heart chakra (shrewd. observant.) As noted, my aura matches my hair. So very important. After my friends left, I ended the day eating cake on the couch with my two favorite hairy dudes and watching the Louis Theroux Christmas special from 1998. Cozy and wonderful.

I should be putting stuff away, cleaning, or getting the last few bits of things finished before I have to think about leaving for the holidays at the end of the week. However, all I really want to do is hang around in the still-made-up guest bed, read, and listen to the birthday present that Dave got me.

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Corey Corey Corey.

Here’s a great, 7 minute video of my friend, Corey Greyhorse, showing us what she does best. Corey is the lady who took that ravishing user photo that you see here as well as on Etsy. She’s a little street and a little sweet and she mixes them together perfectly.

(Also, her daughter has THEE BEST Instagram on the entire internet.)

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What It Is.

“What It Is” will become a sporadical, off-the-cuff update of some things that I like at the moment. The name is in reference to Lynda Barry’s fantastic book by the same name and the spirit, well, the spirit is in reference to that fantastic book’n’lady, too.

 

1. Evocative Objects by Islay Taylor

My friend and kind jewelry oracle, Islay Taylor, just opened up a one-two punch of Etsy store and blog featuring her highly oogleable jewelry. I’m not trying to be a kiss-ass or anything, Islay makes things that I really want. She really hits all the high notes for me: a perfect blend of craftsmanship, thought, and cleverness… sometimes spun with a wink of irresistible immaturity (a la her cast bronze “Shocker” pendant, engraved with the motto “Yeah!”. To my knowledge, they aren’t for sale. I traded her some dead stuff for mine. Another reason why she is rad.) The Pro Nailz? The Fauxlin Iron? I want it all and I want to wear it all at the same time.  Oh, and she somehow finds time to run really long distances. I don’t know how. Can I, like, be you when I grow up, Islay?

 

2. Scrubbing Down My Face.

I’ve found that one of the best things to do when hot and grimy and tired and fucking OVER IT is a good face washing. Sorry make-up from earlier in the
day but you are going to have to go some place else. When washing one’s face,it’s best not to try to preserve old eye-make. Just get your hands in there and scrub. (See: Fig 1.) Regular cool water works fine but if you have a kitchen and 3 minutes, the internet is full of at-home, hippie-style options for quick skin scrubs. My current favorite is sugar/honey/milk.

That is, you take a spoonful of sugar, dump spoonful of honey on there, followed by a spoonful of milk. Stir. A small amount is all you need so make it in a tea cup or something. Pat you face with some tepid water then scoop up yer muck and rub it around on your face for 30 seconds or so. Luxuriate in it. Draw it out. Lock the door. Feel free to cry slightly but do remember, the best way to get it off is with a few splashes of water.

Invite friends to poke at your cheeks. No one will believe that such a rough’n’tuff jerkward such as yourself could be so delightfully touchable.

 

3. These Tiny Earrings.

I made these little guys last month but just got around to photographing them last week. I’m easily delighted by little things so these really take it, amirite? Each comes as a set of three, with mild variations between set one and set two. I don’t have a million of these, maybe 5 or 7 of each colorway. But I think that the important thing is, aren’t you proud of me for breaking out of the trifecta (perfecta!) of red, white, and blue?

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What It Is.

Things I am into right now:

1.Polar Seltzer Water.

It’s been hot and Dave and I have been downing these local, Worchester, Mass. delights like no ones goddamn business. Few things can really pick up my spirits when I have sweat dripping from all regions of my bod and sipping on a cold seltzer at the beach is an A+ way to pass the hot times in relative comfort. Ocean State Job Lot has them for about $1 a six pack however, we often choose the tamer flavors, like lime-cranberry, lemon, or good, old “seltzer” flavored.

2. Super High Waisted Underwear.

I can’t abide by tiny undies no longer! I want something that goes up to my tits! If I can tuck it into the bottom of my bra and create a little underwear suit, all the better. I said this to Joselynn while we were checking out in the ladies’ underwear department of the Santa Fe JC Penny’s and the woman behind the counter laughed appreciatively. She obviously knows what’s up. Granny-pants 4 ever.

The Loved One makes a really nice looking pair of pantaloons in a “luxury” price bracket that is actually affordable. In this instance, “luxury” means “not all of my underwears will cost $35 but it wouldn’t ruin me if I had one pair that did.”

AlliHalla also makes some decent pants and will gladly make sure that all of her underwear styles are cut as sky-high as you want them. They are made to order and she also makes a great garter belt/bike short combo that I have been meaning to snap up for a while.

3. Getting Over The Fact That People Will See Me Running.

Along with “regular guilt”, “catholic guilt”, and “small business guilt”, I now can add on “runner’s guilt”. It’s time to pull it together and not feel weird, ashamed, and self conscious about running and working out.

Back in high school, this awful gym teacher was telling us about the importance of proper nutrition or something and a friend of mine noted, “Well, I’m a vegan and I try to eat beans and stuff for protein.” She immediately spat back, “So, you’re trying to tell me that you only eat vegetables and you are still that portly?” I know, in hind sight, that this woman was just, simply, a total, miserable bitch. Wouldn’t you be if you were stuck teaching gym at a mid-range, public high school in suburban New Jersey? But the judgement and the attitude, the complete lack of value and the grim reality of life-among-other-people, stuck very close to my heart. I still wince when I think about that line. And I think about that line a lot. When I make choices that might make my life better, the essence of that reaction is all that I feel. “Like hell you work out. You look like you are made of doughnuts!” Unfortunately, that is sometimes the iron string that my heart vibrates to*. It’s tough to quiet down but, hey, at least I’m trying.

*“Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events.” Didn’t you know that I’m the type of asshole who keeps a copy of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essay Self-Reliance on my beside table?

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Izola.

How did I miss out on Izola? Do you have any idea how much I need a vaguely expensive-yet-visually-delightful reminder to change up my toothbrush every few months?

This is the kind of task that becomes a real point of discussion in our household.

Ah. Soap-as-a-trope! I’m almost willing to suspend my disbelief that this is actually about substance over style. But what nice style it is!

I’m just such an easy mark.

And thus, very easily marketed to.

Playing not only into my love of text but also my love of promotional hankies and bandanas!

You can tell that we are soul mates because we use the same font.

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Roman + Williams

On Monday, it was so nice out that roommate Jon and I ditched our collective duties and headed for the beach (actually “the pond” but, whatever.)

On the way out, I stopped by the house recycling bin and grabbed a few of my downstairs neighbor’s old architectural mags that were sitting on top, naive to their fate.

My butt hit the sand and I cracked open the first magazine only to find this image. This haunting, haunting image of internal perfection:

by Barry Whittaker.

I’ve seen this floating all over the internet and, yes, I understand, it’s perfection. But perfection does not always get its credit so it wasn’t until Monday that the name Roman + Williams was branded into my mind. They are a true mom and pop design team and that thing above, that space most pristine and curated? That was part of their Manhattan studio. (“Was” not because they work within an ambiguity of time/aesthetic but “was” because I think that it was sold last year for $3.5 mills. Dang.)

I love their wood and their black and their corals and their arm lamps. Most of all, I love how heavy each of their designs are.

Even in Montauk.

Do you think she reads all those books?

Even when you are Kate Hudson.

Even when designing for Gwyneth Paltrow: the American Goddess of Lightness and Bones, their designs are still so…heavy. Full. Rich. Just like that $15,000 Helmut Newton coffee table book. I can’t tell if rich people are assholes or just idiots. Anyway…

New York’s ACE Hotel looks like it was sunk to the bottom of the ocean and then dredged up- like the grand spaces of a fabled and majestic liner.

 

Okay. So this one is a little cheesy for my tastes but, it’s good to see that, in the end, we have a similar sense of humor:

Here are some bonus photos and a video via The Scout. The photos were shot by Rose Callahan, whom I met long ago in a different life. I remember her as being very nice.

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Boggsville Boatel.

or: More Journeys to the End of the World.

photo by Nathan Kensinger

Friends, the next time you find yourself in New York City and someone says to you, “Well, why don’t we just rent a room at the Boggsville Boatel?”- you agree. Just nod, shut your mouth, and take the one hour train ride into the Far Rockaways (“Pawtucket-by-the-Sea”).

This weekend, I had the esteemed pleasure of staying a night at Marina 59’s premier flux space. It was awesome. A flotilla of abandon 60s and 70s recreational boats-turned-theme rooms. On the horizon, planes where touching down and taking off from JFK. Water  was lapping against the boat hulls. In the background, the train rattles by as people on shore yell at each other far into the night. It’s the best example of existing on an unusual intersection. And, when it’s warmer out, you can totally jump off the boats and go swimming, late into the night.

I’d love to pepper this entry with a ton of pictures of weird boats and my friends having fun but I didn’t bring my camera with me and, despite my love of Google Image Search, a lot of the photos in existence are from last year. The space has really taken off in a great direction from there so these photos seem inappropriately underwhelming. Instead, check here for some of the vibe and check here for some of the factual information.

And, while you are at it,  check out what the New York Times, NPR, Flux Factory, and Inhabitat have to say. Keep that “hipster” word off your lips. It’s really much better than that.

PS! Still time to enter into the Dainty Squid/With Care giveaway fun! Go on over and check it out!!!

Surprise!

Hey guys, guess where I’m going!

Yes! Next month, my friend and I are headed for a week-long trip that will end in Santa Fe, New Mexico! Although, while Santa Fe is where I am going, we plan on taking some sweet time getting there. I’m super excited because

1) I really like the idea of the American southwest. The last time I was there was over 13 years ago!

2) I really like the idea of going on a road trip. I’ve never been on one before! I always get so jealous when Dave gets to go on tour. Now, it’s my turn!

3) I love kitsch-y Americana and a road trip to the southwest is kitschy Americana: defined!

I have a mostly open mind, a love of staring out the window, and a plane ticket home. Our only big plan for the trip, so far, is stopping at the City Museum in St. Louis, MO. For better or for worse, when I think of road trips, I also think of all the cool stuff I want to buy. I mean, I plan on coming back to the east coast dripping with silver and turquoise jewelry and with a bunch of cowboy boots smuggled under my sweatshirt. I also want to go to a Waffle House.

Help! What else can we do? Have you been to Santa Fe? Or driven Rt. 66? Tell me about all the roadside fun this country has to offer!

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