Monthly Archives

May 2010


Photoshoot: Freeway Lights

On the 101

There’s a photography technique called “camera toss,” and it’s just as it sounds: You toss your camera in the air and let it take a photo. Usually it turns out to be a beautiful circular design created by the available light sources. Well, I’m not exactly willing to toss my beloved cameras around because I’m notoriously bad at catching things, but I am quite fond of shaking my cameras while pointing them at lights to see what kind of crazy images I can capture. These were taken on the 101 late one night after hitting up a show. Some of the lights are taillights of the cars in front of us, some are from downtown L.A. And then, of course, there’s the still-recognizable street sign.

Painting With Lights
Painting With Lights 2
Painting With Lights 3

The Thriftster: A Coat That’s Just Right

The $2 Coat

It’s so hard to find a good coat. Every winter through the first 25 years of my life was spent searching for one, though. If the fit was nice, it wasn’t cute. If it was cute, it didn’t keep me warm. It was a constant Goldilocks dilemma. Where was the one that was “just right”? Well, younger self, I found it. Sure, I don’t need it anymore because (a) it’s summer, (b) I live in Southern California and (c) I don’t even wear a coat in winter unless I visit the Midwest. But, irony aside, isn’t it great? Super comfy, kelly green, classic trench cut.

And here’s the kicker: It was in the $2 bin at the thrift, with tags still attached. Just right, indeed!

Fashion Forward: Orb Necklaces

I’m enchanted by the idea of wearing glass orbs around my neck. Some of these orbs are empty, which is cool enough. But then some of them have mysterious objects inside. Film, wires, feathers, seeds. I suppose the objects themselves are not mysterious, but how do they get inside? Now that’s mysterious. I am not privvy to this knowledge, so I’m just going to say “magic.” Now don’t you go spoiling my parade by giving me a scientific breakdown of the orbs’ construction. It’s magic, and anyone who says differently is a party pooper and/or a potential terrorist.* So there.







*Totally kidding about being a party pooper. That was mean.

Fashion Rewind: Desperately Seeking Susan


You’re either a bored housewife who reads the personals and writes about your disturbingly boring existence while you eat the rest of the birthday cake in the middle of the night or you’re an adventure-seeking free spirit who steals a pair of very valuable earrings and flits from country to country.

Or maybe you’re the same person. Are you confused? The hit man is confused. The husband, the boyfriend and the other boyfriend are even more confused. Everyone is very confused.

One of you has amnesia; the other is looking for the woman who stole her “stuff,” including a skull suitcase full of rad clothes, including but not limited to a pyramid jacket that may or may not have belonged to Jimi Hendrix. The only clue you have is The Magic Club, where it all comes to a head.

You’re Rosanna Arquette in Desperately Seeking Susan … or are you Madonna … or are you both?


Can I just say for the record how bummed I was that I couldn’t find a similar pyramid jacket or sparkly slouch boots? These were the items I dreamt of wearing “when I grew up,” and they’re completely elusive. Hence the boyfriend blazer and cage sandals (hey, it’s summer) in their stead.

Who You Gonna Call?


Click here to watch actors dressed as Ghostbusters eradicate the NYC library of three studious ghosts. A quick side note: When I was in first grade we had to craft these little partitions so our classmates wouldn’t be able to see our tests. Really, it was just a large, trifolded manila folder. On it I drew scenes from “Ghostbusters,” including the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. The place where my name was supposed to reside I neatly printed “Peter Venkman.” I apparently thought I would grow up to be Bill Murray, with or without the male pattern baldness.

Improv Everywhere is rad; you should really check out more videos.

Wish List 05.17.10


I am a fool for this blouse. I can picture myself wearing it while sitting on a lounge chair sipping on a mai tai. Do you have a piece of clothing on your wish list (or in your closet) that reminds you of vacation? I think everyone should.

100 Movies: 66, 67

And the countdown continues in my quest to watch and find something inspiring in every single one of Yahoo’s 100 Movies to See Before You Die.

Jerry: Have I got things to tell you!
Joe: What happened?
Jerry: I’m engaged.
Joe: Congratulations. Who’s the lucky girl?
Jerry: I am!

Tony Curtis and Jack Lemmon, those zany fellas. They have to flee mobsters and Chicago, so they pose as female musicians and join an all-woman band that travels to Florida. But there’s a problem: They’ve fallen for Sugar (Marilyn Monroe), a not-so-bright lush and ukelele player. Cross-dressing hijinks ensue, but don’t fear. Things end happily ever after on a millionaire’s yacht. This movie is great fun, and I found myself inspired to take a page from Ms. Monroe’s book by thoroughly embracing my curves by wearing risque outfits. OK, you caught me. I’m embracing my curves; the risque outfits will come later.


Norman Bates: She just goes a little mad sometimes. We all go a little mad sometimes. Haven’t you?

A cute embezzler ends up getting caught in a rainstorm and checks into the abandoned Bates Motel for the night. Bad things happen, yadda yadda yadda. If you don’t know the plot of this movie, you’ll have to sign up for Scary Movies 101. The gist is that Hitchcock is the master of suspense, everyone else the imitator. Also, I am inspired to never ever — I cannot stress never enough — get out of my broken-down car in an isolated place to (a) knock on a stranger’s door, (b) go to a dilapidated hotel or (c) hitchhike. Stay put till morning and you’re 100 percent more likely to not be killed by a man who thinks he’s his dead mother.

UPDATE: 31 things to do before I turn 32

Marking another thing off my list
Picnic Plan

25. Pack a picnic and kick the soccer ball around.
It was a warm Saturday afternoon in April, and we set out to Rancho Palos Verdes to find one of our favorite parks, a vast expanse of green grass high on the hill overlooking the Pacific and, on a clear day, Catalina Island. We kicked around the soccer ball. H, forgetting that he married a klutz, tried in vain to teach me how to juggle the ball with my knees. Then we unpacked our lunch: pesto chicken sandwich, popcorn, pears and cold water. We discussed how we would spend our lottery jackpot when we win it. Then we collapsed onto the blanket and watched the wispy clouds pass by overhead. A perfect afternoon.