Monday, July 28, 2014

Furniture design iz hard.


Is it a...  tongue with legs?  A maxi pad with mutant wings for a goth giantess?  A modern scorpion coming to say hello?  An extra piece of art in the dinner scene from Beetlejuice?  A very sad slide?  A dramatic shoe horn?  A bicycle seat that's entering into a black hole and being stretched through time and space?  A kitten launcher?  The lovechild between a slingshot and a boomerang?

Oh, it's a chair? 

If my delightfully fat ass is going to sit in that chair it needs to be three times as big and OFF THE FUCKING FLOOR.  

Unless it wants to end up a thong.  

But as a general rule, fuck your non-functioning art chairs.  


Tuesday, July 22, 2014

I'm a member of the Illuminati now.

If you've followed me for a hot minute you know that I'm a Beyonce fan.  Nay, I'm a stan.  I'm a proud member of the Beyhive, secret agent of the Beygency, loyal servant to my High Priestess of the Sparkle Leotard.  

If you're already rolling your eyes you might want to skip this post.

I've always had a special place in my heart for her since we are roughly the same age, both Virgos and enjoy taking glam to one step above what the situation might warrant.  I always knew her concerts were amazing and halfheartedly tried to see her last summer on the Mrs. Carter World Tour but it never happened.  

But then she dropped that album in December and shit got real.  I HAD to be in her presence.  I told myself I was going to see her next tour no matter what.  And when the On the Run tour was announced there was no question that I would give her all my money (up to $125) so I could bask in her glow in person (from more than a football field length away).

To prepare myself I began to abstain from all things Knowles-Carter-related about a month before the show: no music, no tour gifs, no Buzzfeed lists, nothing.  I needed to become a temporary born-again Beyonce virgin before the honeymoon.  

The day before the show my uterus had some plans of its own but I literally shut that shit down using willpower and verbal abuse.  I can't be bothered with such corporeal nonsense during such a spiritual experience.  My uterine lining was literally too scared to come out of my body.

Next I gathered an appropriate outfit.  I was not there to peacock around and distract from the star, I was there to sweat and act a fool and walk a mile from the hotel to get to the Georgia Dome in comfortable shoes.  

Pretty much what I look like all the time.
And I chose wisely.  I can't tell you how many girls I saw in uncomfortable latex and spandex and other -ex clothes with sweaty boobage spilling out the side hobbling through downtown Atlanta wearing house shoes or flip flops while their boyfriends carried their stilettos.  I have to respect their commitment to their freakum dresses because I saw more ass cheeks than I ever thought possible during the sunlight.  

I also didn't want to have my weak, mortal body disrupt the show so after a few cocktails with dinner I abstained from all liquids about an hour before the show started.  I could not allow my bladder to interrupt the night.  

We finally got to our far away seats and waited for the Queen.  For almost an hour.  I guess when you're royalty time is of no concern to you.  I was pretty sure I was going to cry at the mere sight of her so waiting probably worked out better for me as it calmed my nerves a bit and we could find the wifi signal.  

While we waited "This is not real life" was displayed on the large screens in case we were confused about this being an alternate universe of magnificence.  Finally the lights went down and my life finally had purpose.  Over artistically edited video "Move That Dope" started playing and I knew they were going to come HARD tonight.

Then the screens parted and they made their entrance it was everything you would hope.  

Screaming, vibrating, earth-shattering Beyness and a very large smoke machine.  

Oh and Jay Z.

I kinda forget that Jay Z is JAY FUCKING Z.  

We started with 'Bonnie and Clyde' and followed their "relationship" throughout their respective discographies - hot outlaw sex on a platter, diva power, hustling, more nasty fucking, some religious stuff, then they got married, then someone *cough* cheated, now they've forgive each other again as 'On the Run' reminded us that they are the ultimate outlaws and Bey looks way hotter in a ski mask than I ever could.

They did not disappoint.  Not for one second did I feel like I could have gone to the bathroom.

If you can imagine the excitement of the Superbowl half time show except they scrubbed away all the sweetness (Kelly) and light (Michelle) and threw in some Tarantino then you have On The Run.

It's like every Beyonce gif of perfection came to life for 2.5 hours of non stop hair-tossing, ass-shaking, dirty, gritty, boss bitch action.  If you want to know why your fun little Bootylicious girl is now the queen of the world then this is it.

And this.

You don't think as a grown-ass human being that you will scream for another woman's ass when it appears on a giant jumbotron screen but you will, my friend.  You will.

I wish that I had been closer so I could have really lost my shit amongst my fellow superfans where it would have been normal.  Instead I was so high up that I was afraid to dance in case I fall straight down to meet my doom or embarrass the people taking selfies.

So close yet so far...
But I did throw my diamond up very discreetly a few times.  I know they felt it.  There's a special light that shines when a white girl throws up a diamond - it's like the Care Bear Stare.  It's full of hugs and cheer.  

Say what you will about these two but I have mad amounts of respect for their artistic vision.  Collaborating with your spouse - who happens to be the best in the world a at what they do - to create the ultimate fantasy of love, death, sex and adventure and do it successfully is a pretty legendary thing. 

It's the apex of storytelling and gangsta shit backed with some fuck hard bass beats.

At the end they let us know that play time was over and that "This is real life" as their secret home moves were revealed on the jumbotron.   Wedding clips and Blue Ivy giggles and matching tattoos and family stuff played on screen while the royal couple stood on stage arm in arm while Beyonce sang Halo to the baby and we all cried.  

I don't give a fuck how carefully it was all orchestrated you can't look at someone's baby and not feel like part of the family.  It was worth my movie ticket price.  Whether you paid $100 or $1000 you got your money's worth.

So all 50,000 of us dried our tears (and put slippers back on if necessary) and made the walk back to the hotel safe in the knowledge that baby Blue Ivy is angel and that your life is forever changed from watching Yonce grind on some chairs.

I may have been spiritually complete but after not having had any water in five hours and screaming in hysteria for most of that I was physically depleted and possibly already hungover.  I was not able to form coherent sentences and may have even been in a trance.  I'm not sure.  

What I AM sure of is that at about 4 in the morning all of my corporeal needs returned with a vengeance.  I could only hold our for so long.

Not only did I exhaust myself, I exhausted my camera battery taking shitty pictures and video that are useless.  This is totally fine because I've spent the last week rewatching the tour from OTHER people's clips and pictures.  But not any show - the ATLANTA show.  I ain't here for your shit, Miami.

I strongly recommend that you listen to the The Read's recap of the concert because it is 700 times more entertaining than mine even if you hate Beyonce.  I listened to it twice because they GET IT.  I also listened to their review of Beyonce's album release in December again because I can't get enough.  Nostalgia and all.

If you haven't read the numerous lists out on the internet yet here are some of my personal highlights from the show:

- Those wind machines aren't just for show.  After Beyonce finished a set and we waited for Jay Z to perform I could see Beyonce bend down on the side of the stage outside of the spotlight and wipe off sweat with towel after towel and throw them into the audience.  Sometimes people bring her towels just for this reason.  Don't nobody ever say she don't love her fans.

- I love when Bey gets angry and starts cussing (The Read mentions this too).  Nothing brings me greater joy than hearing sweet little Beyonce screams "MOTHERFUCKER" while pretending to rob a bank.  Or when she gets indignant and  yells "I'M RICH!" or gestures to her fine ass while talking shit about another woman that's trying to take her man.  Ring the alarm, indeed.

- The bevy of costumes was spectacular as to be expected (read more on each outfit on her Tumblr like here with Project Runway alum Michael Costello or this Diesel outfit), but one of my favorites was her American flag train that she closed the show with.  It was actually a shirt tied around her waist (so badass) but it felt beyond luxurious and of course looked marvelous billowing in front of the wind machine.  Bitch knows how to hit her mark.

- Although I wasn't truly there for Jay Z every time a song came on I remembered "oh yeah, this shit is fucking amazing!"  Everything from Magna Carta deserves to be listened to (and rapped along with) in a stadium.  It's that big.  Fuckwithmeyouknowigotit.  *dead*

- Flawless was on of my favorite live numbers.  Gahtdamn.  She wore a Versace bodysuit and a helmet with a gold mohawk.  I have no words.  It made no sense and yet all the sense in the world.

However, sitting in a completely dark venue with nothing but Chimamanda Adichie's words about feminism flashing on a giant screen to thousands of rapt people felt pretty fucking powerful and I may have choked up slightly. 

- This fine couple really knows how to do other people's music.  Beyonce did Lauryn Hill's Ex-Factor while we sang every word and then we all lost our collective shit with a Michael Jackson sample in Love on Top.  She sang Justin Timberlake's part of Holy Grail better than he did. Jay Z rapped a bit of Bun B's verse in Big Pimpin and *I* lost my shit but I'm just incredibly partial to that bit, you illiterate sonofabitch.

- I go crazy for Beyonce's over-the-top, sometimes-syncopated dancing ESPECIALLY when she does street dance moves.  But when she dropped the Nae Nae IN Atlanta during 'Diva' people went bananas.  By people I mean ME.

See the full gif set here
- Jay Z doesn't need another living soul to perform with, he's got his funky and expressive hands and that's enough.

- After some drama with my original Bey buddy I had to find someone to take my extra ticket the night before the show.  Fortunately my friends and the Knowles-Carter angel posse found a replacement.  My new date was only moderately fond of Beyonce but was very understanding when I ignored him for three hours during the show.  But in the end I made a new friend.  We have a special bond no one can break.  On the Run brings people together, y'all.

- Partly what made this show so much fun to watch is that you could tell they were having fun too.  No sourpusses allowed.  We're here to party.  Drunk In Love in Atlanta - they were so cute right at the end.

- Les Twins.  Beyonce usually only performs with her all-ladyperson band and backup dancers except for twin brothers who happen to be French models.  Because DUH.  And they were truly spectacular and I would totally break my only-ladies-allowed policy for them too.

All images in this post by Rob Hoffman unless otherwise noted.  More of his ATL pics here.
- Towards the end of the show a very passionate fan about five seats over from me began screaming his love for Beyonce at the top of his lungs for about half an hour.  Since she was about the size of an ant to us his impassioned pleas fell on deaf ears.  Except ours.  But he kept screaming he loved her because "SHE HAD TO KNOW."  

We all laughed but we were all screaming just like him on the inside.  Bravo to you, sir.  You said what we all felt anyway.

The HBO documentary of the concert is coming in September so for all you closet Yonce fans reading (I KNOW you're out there) you can witness the event too.

I'll be watching it nightly before bed until Blue Ivy's concert footage leaks.

Thursday, July 17, 2014

This makes me exceedingly happy

Rose steps in Tehran, Iran
Can we have more fine art graffiti artists?  Like Renaissance master type shit, Dutch still life, Flemish Baroque, etc.  Would people like Brutalism better if there was a bouquet of dead flowers and a freshly-murdered rabbit painted on them?  

Can I maybe paint a mural on the side of my house INSTEAD of landscaping?  I don't know if you guys know but growing things is hard.  I don't know which is harder: growing things in the summer in Tennessee or imitating Old World painting techniques on mint green vinyl siding?

Regardless of your mural talents, I'm also getting a Tupac's 'The Rose That Grew From Concrete' vibe from this and I approve.  Here's a refresher of the poem if you are needing to get something tattooed on you this weekend.  

Honestly, I'm just using it as landscaping inspiration because it's dry as fuck around here and my lawn might as well be concrete and it's not even August yet.  I also don't know how it could be so desert-like right now and yet I'm having allergies...?  That's some Biblical apocalyptic shit, right there.  Thanks, Obama.

And speaking of life-changing musical artists, I went to see my Queen, Beyonce, Tuesday so please suffer through a concert overview next week.  It would have been today but honestly I've spent two days rewatching the concert through every terrible vine, gif, blurry iphone video uploaded to youtube so I've been busy.  

But it was worth it.  

The vines and the concert.

Sunday, July 13, 2014

Vroom Vroom Appreciation Post

I hate to perpetuate stereotypes but I readily admit that I'm a ladyperson that cares nothing about motorized things. Blenders, weedeaters, back... "massagers," tractors, scooters, saws, DANGEROUS DANGEROUS SAWS, etc.  I'm a Stone Age girl.  Who lives on computers...? I'm a walking contradiction.

Unless the motorized gadgets are the characters in Brave Little Toaster I'm not interested.  But lately I've been thinking about motorized vehicles a lot.  You know, cars and things.  

Tippi Hedren or me in an alternate universe via The Swinging Sixties
This is partly because my car is over ten years old and I've poured a LOT of money and tears into it this past year.  Enough of both that I've accepted the inevitable and have been researching new cars in anticipation of its tragic demise.  

I really, really hate shopping for cars.

I'm not looking for anything fancy.  Maybe a 1938 Bugatti.
Bugatti 57 SC Atlantic, 1938 via Design Is Fine
Perhaps I'm partly interested lately because I've been seeing these microcars pop up everywhere and I'm DYING.  

Fritz Fend and Valentin Knott, Messerschmitt KabinenrollerKR200 Cabrio, 1961 via Design Is Fine

These are the vehicular equivalent of kitten gifs.  They make strange noises come out of my mouth like *squeep!* and *hhhmeeeeek!*

I generally like my vehicles boring and dependable - no splurges for me.  I don't even have a powerlock keychain.  I cried the first time I encountered a butt warmer.  

Renault 8 Gordini via Cooler Than Before
So I don't have any/some/okay-maybe-a-little desire to buy a tiny cartoon car BUT I most certainly can appreciate driving around Europe in one.  I mean, I'm a real human being with feelings and emotions!

via Cooler Than Before
I'm not sure if I'm ever going to be a car show type of person but I like this vibe.  And in doing "research" (that's what I call Pinterest and Tumblr) for this post I found that the High Museum in Atlanta is having a concept car exhibition through September 7th!  How perfect!  

One of the cars being exhibited is the Stout Scarab - the precursor to the modern minivan and kinda what started today's motor lust.

via Concept Carz

I mean, this little pickup didn't hurt the motor lust either but I can appreciate all kinds.

1963 Bambi Pickup Sporty via Loudpop

Upon further reflection, the only video games I ever played with obsession were Mariokart and Adventure Beetle Racing and I really love all the terrible Transporter movies so maybe I DO have a latent car person inside me??  

I lurve taking road trips, though.  That probably makes more sense than Mariokart influencing my vehicular fantasies.

However, if I was to actually talk to a car person I would probably fall asleep before they finished saying 'Top Gear.'  They'd have to lure me into car talk by describing our 3-day weekend and the country roads we'd take and how many cute instagrams I'll get and the gas station food we'd eat and how cute I'd look in the [insert car name here].  It's all about the visuals for me.
Bruce Davidson, 1964 via Honey Rider
I'm trying to avoid the whole "Cars = penises therefore women next to cars = hot" nonsense equation for dummies but I will admit that I love some ladies with cars.  

There's probably something in there for me about liberation and taking charge Thelma and Louise-style but it might just be cuz they're cute.  I'm very pro- retro dresses and lipstick and sunglasses.  Perhaps it's not so much a motor lust as it is vanity and the desire to shop for accessories?
Volpe or Alca by Aero-Caproni, 1947 via Design Is Fine

But I think we can all agree that I would look adorable sitting in this cutie up to my ears in petticoats and a headscarf trailing behind me in the wind.

OMGLOLJK I'll look like Mr. Incredible.

My next car will of course be a nice sensible shade of "Gotta look at this another ten years so better not get too outrageous" but maybe a different color wouldn't be so terrible...?  LIKE BALLET PINK?

Messerschmitt via Fine Cars

Red is very classic and I could get lipstick to match.

1957 Ferrari 410 Superamerica Scaglietti Coupe via Edduped
Oh wait, isn't insurance higher for red cars?  Welp, already put that daydream to rest.

1957-64 Scootacar Standard via BBC
Is this a car or a gumdrop?

1965 Cadillac Coup de Ville by Gene Laurents via Skorver1
Me, washing my car.  In a mink coat.

Throughout my internet travels (see what I did there?) one little car kept coming up for me - the BMW Isetta:

1957 BMW Isetta 300 via Loudpop
It comes in a range of colors and patterns and I'd like one of each of them, please.
1956 BMW Isetta "Bubble Window" Cabrio via Cooler Than Before
This one has a green plaid interior which is perfect for the picnic they're going on as indicated by the basket on the back.  This is my picnic car.  I'll also need a car for the beach, the county fair, the mountain cabin, the grocery store, going to Redbox, getting ice cream, etc.

BMW Isetta Standard, 1955 via Design Is Fine
Here's a picture of a family preparing themselves for their own decapitation and bloody deaths.  I found this video of a guy showing us around a restored Isetta and driving it around and it is both insanely adorable and completely terrifying. 
BMW Isetta Pickup, 1961 via Design Is Fine
Still want it.

lost link, pin here
*squithud*  That's the sound of my heart jumping out of my chest and rolling under the couch picking up cat hair along the way.

BMW 600 via Chromjuwelen
Y'all, this is the Isetta LIMO.  A microcar "limousine."  I think I'm starting to hyperventilate.

BMW Isetta police car via Iain Claridge
A police car.  Yep, I'm done.  I can't breathe, my heart's under the couch and I just peed all over my rug.  

I wish I could at least own the McDonald's Happy Meal toy version of these and collect them all!

I couldn't put every cute car/gumdrop I found in this post but feel free to follow my brand new car Pinterest board I just started five minutes ago which already is better than the images on this post.  Other fun places I found include the car section of Design Is Fine (a great design tumblr regardless), a quick overview of micro- and bubble cars here and Dr. Smooth Death's Instagram always has great car 'grams. 

Most of these images came from the 2013 RM Auction of the Bruce Weiner Microcar Museum which you can see here.  Good thing I sourced each individual image above...  Jesus...  Good lesson in finding the OG source BEFORE you start a post, Madame Lacy Sauce.  Most cars sold for under $50k so....  you don't actually have to be a millionaire to own one.  Just a thousandaire.

Now, I can't get me a little Fiat for my next car as I drive over 60 miles a day on the interstate and I want to live.  So I'll be fine with my very sensible, tiny hybrid SUV or something.  

But I'll make sure it's road trip and squee compatible.

UPDATE! And look what I found:

A collection of Isetta toys!  They went for $345 so... you know... *points to December 25th on the calendar*

UPDATE #2: The Microcar Museum where all the auction cars came from is actually outside Atlanta.  Whoop!  They aren't open again until Fall 2014 (I guess they sold their inventory??) but I suspect an ACTUAL road trip in my old, boring car in the near future.

UPDATE #3:  Been seeing a lot of vintage 70's Chevy trucks with giant, rap star chrome rims in my neighborhood and I'm not gonna lie... I rather like it.  Maybe that can be my "lookin' sharp while hauling things to the dump" vehicle.  

Thursday, July 10, 2014

Welcome to my half-finished bedroom, perverts.

Ok I'm finally over my Fireball hangover (just kidding I'm still drunk) so I was able to get a few pics of my bedroom for you.

Honestly, it's kinda weird to show a bunch of "virtual" strangers on the internet my bedroom so, just... yeah...  It's awkward the age we live in is all I'm saying.  I'm pretty sure I have real life friends that have never even stepped foot in my bedroom in the entire decade I've known them.  It's a private space.  But I only have ten or twenty readers so I guess it's cool.

So here's the magic headboard in its real home!

Headbort.  Yes, it's a little wide but I'm getting a new mattress in the near future so it'll work out fine.  But I'm really enjoying how it took my lounging from "college skank" to "luxurious hotel customer" in one (pseudo-easy) DIY.

And shout out to beautiful Moroccan pillow looking all cute and beige and sequiny up there.  I want to add about a thousand more white pillows up there to give it a home in the clouds.

To answer your question, YES I do make my bed every day.  Most days.  Almost all most days.  Having a nicer space with prettier things does make me more inclined to treat it as such.  It's what I do while I'm brushing my teeth in the morning and contemplating life and how delicious bagels are.
Yes, I scooted the headboard over to get the full effect.
I've used Mr. $3 Nightstand for a few weeks and really dig him.  He fits A LOT of face creams in there and is a good height.  Still exceptionally happy with the color and gloss factor.

Can't remember if I blogged the lamp or just instagrammed it but Mr. $20 Brass Lamp is very sexy and shiny and we are good bedtime friends.

Despite what you might think of me *cough* I'm not really feeling too fancy about styling up the nightstand surface too much.  Just enjoying my trinket box full of SECRETS and a piece of crystal that I got at a flea market.  I believe it was more than double the price of the nightstand so... make of that what you will.

On the dresser on the other wall is what I've been playing with lately:

Look at these sweet babies...  I really wanted some real live plants up in this dream chamber to freshen up the space and to continue with the *ahem* jungle "backstory/theme" that only I care about.  

I'm happy to inform you that all are STILL alive and currently the only thing on my dresser top.  I'm really loving this minimal thing right now.  

The far left is a sansevieria trifasciata or what we commonly call a snake plant and is a modern home must-have.  I had no idea it was was a snake plant when I bought it because they used the real name and the leaf coloration was different.  So far it's doing good although needs to be repotted.

On the right is a Calathea "Medallion" and I really hope it makes it.  It's struggling.  Well, I'm struggling with it.  The leaves change positions on me all the time and I was not given the Rosetta Stone for Calathea when I bought it so I can't decipher what it's trying to tell me.  

This little guy is an ox tongue (Gasteria?) and also needs to be repotted because it's outgrown its current home.  Honestly, I just have a thing for brass containers with feet so I'm having a hard time letting this setup go.

I did a fair amount of research for low light houseplants and these are the ones I thought looked most "bedroomy."  Some plants need to stay in the living room and I'm not sure why that is but it just is.  If you have any low light plants you'd recommend holler at me!

Last but not least is lighting!

I've had this lamp for ages but it needs some love.  It's white and brassy and I dig it but it's also broken and I can't find a shade for the life of me.  Thus the problem with buying vintage lamps.  And yet I CAN'T STOP DOING IT.  

The ONLY lamp repair shop in town is not open late or on weekends (because Jesus) so I have to literally take vacation time from work to go buy a shade and have it fixed so needless to say it keeps getting put off.  I thought Jesus was down for me getting errands run on Saturday but I was wrong about him.  YET AGAIN.

In addition to above fixes I also want to acquire a gnarly wood bench, some art and am possibly going to paint that mirror white or grey.  That wood frame is jarring me and I need to look at my reflection and pretend I'm floating in a cloud.

I know it seems like bedroom reSaucification is taking forever but I'm totally fine with it.  My heart's happy and my wallet's empty for now so we'll all cope together.

Now, please stay out of my bedroom until next time, perverts!