So, the Indie Arts Festival “Facial Hair Contest” is kicking off around 5pm in Burnside Park, which I’m so sure all my bearded exes have been preparing for since springtime.

Now, I know I’m piggy-backing on David’s post about this, but if you’re seeking inspiration for your facial hair, stop by the kickball field for the Providence Burnsiders game ’round 3pm. We’ll be playing the illustrious UGGH, always fun to watch, always fun to play. (more…)

Buried in the story of the daring rescue of FARC hostage Ingrid Betancourt last week was this ‘lil gem on how the Colombian commandos were able to infiltrate the rebel base and spirit her away:

A white painted helicopter — backed by dozens of others in the area — landed at the rebels’ jungle base at dawn, carrying military personnel masquerading as FARC members. Ms Betancourt said she was disappointed that they were not the aid workers she had expected. Looking at the helicopter crew members, who were wearing T-shirts emblazoned with images of Che Guevara, “I thought, this is FARC,” she said on television, and presumed they were part of a mission to transport the hostages to another location.

Che shirts? Really? That was their disguise? Does this mean that half of disaffected white suburbia could stumble into a FARC base and be treated like one of the gang?

… but come this fall, this is what you’ll be wanting. The New York Times headline writer tags this report, without any apparent irony, ‘In Milan, All Masculinity, No Pretense’.

I recently suggested here that the Japanese are completely mental (and got no argument whatsoever I might add). In all fairness, my own ancestral peeps can be pretty daft. In England, the Royal Ascot meeting is the racing and social event of the summer, and hats are a really big deal.

According to the Royal Ascot dress code, “hats or a substantial fascinator must be worn in the Royal Enclosure” but even those who are not in the Royal Enclosure take an opportunity to wear a hat.

I think it’s safe to say my ancestors were not inside the enclosure fascinating anybody. Complete slide show at NYT Sunday Style.

Apart from being a total baller who drives to the beach in her rad boat of a car to go surfing AND opening up a  much needed consignment shop for local apparel and jewelry designers with, similarly balling Devon King of Wabisabi/77Designs,  Lucille Clothing designer Karen Beebe is a pretty fly artist. Come check her out for yourself as she sends some of downcity’s hottest down the runway at Tazza tonight. If you rush you can make it over for the final of two runway shows! Also, I’m pretty stoked that she worked with  Lustre Kings’  Moon Bain to develop this season’s prints as his aesthetic is second to none.

Edwardian frock coats, hacking jackets and waistcoats? I am so there. Steampunk is a new style, design and music subculture, inspired by the works of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, 19th century technology, as well as movies like The Prestige and The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. It seems to have bubbled up in New York City. (I think this is the pleasantly weird aesthetic that informs The Viennagram and its freaky side show.) So what exactly is this?

To some, “steampunk” is a catchall term, a concept in search of a visual identity. “To me, it’s essentially the intersection of technology and romance,” said Jake von Slatt, a designer in Boston and the proprietor of the Steampunk Workshop, where he exhibits such curiosities as a computer furnished with a brass-frame monitor and vintage typewriter keys.

Oh just read about it. More pix (of some dudes) after break.

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The Sunday ProJo had a nice piece by Charles P. Whitin about the rhythms of life on College Hill and the simple pleasures to be found there. And, like me, he is a people-watcher —

An amazing amount of pulchritude unveils itself as the weather warms, most evident in the young women of the Hill, while the men, by and large, go incognito, relatively hidden in a ubiquitous uniform of athletic shoes, baggy shorts and visored caps, less commodities on display than diamonds in the rough. Or is this just because I am a heterosexual male, and fail to notice, being otherwise distracted?

Nope, you are absolutely correct Mr. Whitin, and I’m a heterosexual female. The other day I had a cup of coffee outside at Blue State and took in the passing scene. Almost all of the guys looked like they had walked straight out of a gym (except for the irrefutable evidence that they had clearly never walked into a gym). Most were wearing crappy tees and flip flops and those nylon athletic shorts. Guys… you don’t look casual… you look ’special’. This would be fine I suppose if their female counterparts were similarly attired, but they are not. The girls are pretty stylish and put-together. This disparity was weirdly on display with the couples — real cute girls who appeared to be on a community service project with their ’special little fella’. Come on ladies, it’s time to go Lysistrata on their sorry asses. No nookie until they shape up. (And end the war while you’re at it.)

Remember that weird craze about ten to fifteen years ago when grown people thought it was totally awesome to wear ginormous white t-shirts with giant backwards baseball hat-wearing Tweety Birds across the front? Or maybe an image of the Tasmanian Devil wearing the uniform of your favorite NFL team? These are the same people who, possibly, are driving around right now with seat covers in their cars that say TINK?

Well, ladies and gentlemen, get ready for the most exciting thing to come out of Cereal City since the yogurt enema: (more…)

Dude. Have you seen the Pope? He’s got some stylin’ threads. And let me tell you, his shoes, they’re worth more than your soul. Yes, the devil wears Prada, but Pope Benedict XVI wears custom made red leather loafers. Maybe the red is from his days as a cardinal. Maybe he’s just fancy. But one things for sure. He’s got something on John Paul II and that something is FLARE!

So, usually I just make my own aprons, but I only do the skirt type because I like the fullness in the bottom, which leaves my top covered in flour most days.

Later today, I’ll be heading to Target to pick up toothpaste (2 for $5, plus I have a $1 off coupon), and some other things I don’t need but are on sale and I also have coupons for, which means double the savings. And, I’ll be picking up this totally adorable apron for $40 so I can copy the pattern and make a whole bunch for myself, my friends, and my family:

Once again the Swiss struggle with a moral dilemma that would seem to the rest of us to be a pretty easy call.  This time out — should we be turning pussycats into fashion accessories? Things may be looking up for Whiskers — according to today’s New York Times there is a movement afoot to outlaw the hunting of cats (200 yards from home? fair game) and the sale of their pelts to the fashion trade.  So if you want an angora fedora, get over there now while supplies last.

Ever have a moment where your kid needs a new pair of pants…and fast!  Perhaps you are at the playground and there’s an ice cream disaster, but you didn’t bring an extra change of clothes for your little one. 

Check out Pantsinapinch.com, a new company selling a change of pants in a coaster-size tin for kids from 3-6 months up to 24 months with toddler sizes available for special order.  They are 100% cotton and come in four colors, for now.  Toss a tin in your pocketbook and never have to worry again.

I don’t know where to buy them in RI, but you can get them on the website for only $19.95, and I’m sure you can ask your local small shop to carry them. I know I’ll be getting a bunch as soon as humanly possible!

For those clumsy, sloppy days, I kind of wish they made these in my size.

Best potential 1st amendment case ever coming out of Florida, where Palm Beach has outlawed saggy pants somehow. You cannot be serious. Actually, this is probably a much bigger 14th amendment case, as guess who likes to wear the saggy pants typically? I dunno, but if there are any white people sagging in Palm Beach, their newspaper’s photographers either didn’t find any or didn’t think it was worth it to snap a photo for their gallery of scary pants-sagging black people.

Under the new law, anyone with droopy pants that show skin or underwear faces legal action. The first offense carries a $150 fine or community service. A second infraction carries a $300 fine or more community service.

Habitual violators could face up to 60 days in jail. The jail provision produced a last-minute backlash to the ordinance. But the law was popular among elderly voters who apparently turned out at the polls.

Hmm, jailing people for wearing their pants wrong produced a backlash you say? Interesting. Oh, whats that, all the old people voted for it anyway? Oh, Grrrreat. The Founders are MAD ABOUT THIS!!!

I got a scary loop-de-loop of Kansas RI connectivity this morning when I opened a Roz Chast greeting card sent by my mother only to find two promotional postcards for Kansas-RI-Kansas transplant and recent RISD grad John Sebelius. Sebelius, in addition to being our silver-haired governor’s son, is also a clothing and game designer. He sells his prison-themed, Monopoly-style board game and retooled vintage dress shirts with dreaded Black men screened across their lapels from his website and at my former stomping grounds, Hobbs Inc.

It is really boring to make the same old comments on this type of weirdo Mark Ecko shit, so I won’t. But I’m curious to know if any dose readers know Sebelius’ work from RISD days and what might have contributed to his fascination with incarcerated people of color. To fuel the hype more, check this article from my hometown’s better-than-the-Projo local rag.

Further proof that, believe it or not, US weekly readers care about news that actually matters, the gossip rag has a feature on Hillary Clinton.

“My Worst Outfits Ever!” in the February 18th issue showcases the losing looks of Senator Clinton through the years, with critiques allegedly penned by the candidate herself. From The New York Times:

“Mrs. Clinton pulled few punches against herself in the four-page spread, disowning outfits like the high-waisted striped pants from her college days (“It’s not my fault,” her comment read. “It was the ’60s.”) and a long, shaggy, violently multicolored coat (“I’m a big believer in recycling — even carpets!”). The unflinching portfolio also included pictures of Mrs. Clinton in baggy shorts, a polka-dot dress and a Christmas sweater that would make Bridget Jones blanch.”

I kind of love that after years of ridiculous scrutiny over her hair, clothing, looks, etc, Clinton is getting playful with her image, admitting fashion mistakes that any woman could be guilty of.

Does this move increase her likability? Sure. But, FYI, I still advocate for a focus on policies, voting records, campaign finance, and electability in choosing a candidate.

Dear Everyone, Especially Three Girls I Have Seen In The Last Ten Minutes,

Furry moccasins are NOT cute. Moccasins maybe, but certainly not the kind that looks like a sheep-monster is living inside your footwear and trying to devour you from the bottom up. Don’t listen to what people tell you, they’re not cute. Ever. Especially when it’s wet outside and you live in a city. Stop acting like you’re Cameron Diaz three years ago planning her wedding that never happened. Take them off, donate them, whatever, and get yourself something cute, because unless you’re actually making some kind of human-sheep pyramid, then your feet should not be that woolly in public.

Also, if you insist on wearing these hateful slippers from Hell, and for some reason think they’re cute and appropriate to wear outside your home, PLEASE don’t wear them with tights like one girl that I just saw. ESPECIALLY if you are wearing RIPPED tights. RIPPED SILVER TIGHTS with BEIGE SHEEPSKIN SLIPPERS. I mean really.

Love,
The Rest of the World

PS–Where in God’s name are you getting these terrible monstrosities? I’ve spent the last half-hour looking online at terrible, terrible shoes trying to find a picture of the right pair, but they’re nowhere to be found. Not here or here or here or here or here or here or even here. They’re almost like this hideous pair, but they’re a little less UGGy, which means that they don’t even keep you warm. Are you custom-making these? Why?

PPS–I think I need to lie down with a cold compress on my head. If you evilly befooted Brown girls make me miss Angela Davis this afternoon I’m going to be sooooo mad.