Slut Shaming and Trampire Trouble

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The Huffington Post recently published this great article by Nico Lang about the ridiculousness and sadness that is the media circus surrounding the break up of Twilight stars Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson post cheating scandal.

How scary is it when the whole situation is laid out like this?

She's young and she made a mistake. It's hardly the first time that a 22-year-old has had an affair, and I'm not concerned for Kristen Stewart. She'll be fine, and this scandal will die down soon enough. The worst is already over.

But for young women, the culture of slut shaming that the Kristen Stewart scandal represents won't go away. I might not be concerned for K-Stew, but I am concerned for all the young women today who are tuned into this scandal, ones who are learning that it's not okay to screw up, ever. Chris Brown can publicly beat the hell out of his girlfriend but still be played on the radio and win Grammys. However, if you ever cheat on your boyfriend, your life is over and no one will ever want to be associated with you. Almost no one will blame the much-older guy you cheated with, and it might actually make him more famous andhelp his career. Few will care that he was your boss and in a position of authority or that he may have have taken advantage of your youth and relative inexperience. Everything is your fault, and your life will be threatened over it. If you are a trampire, you will be publicly staked for it, even though cheater Ashton Kutcher recently emerged relatively unscathed by the media. No one asked for him to be fired from Two and a Half Men.

Frankly it gives me the shivers.

So does reading The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan--the early 60s feminist classic I've been reading that rips the idea of 50s femininity to shreds-- because in so many ways NOTHING HAS CHANGED.

If I'm going to be at all hopeful though and not drive the rest of my day into a ditch, I suppose I should end on a note that Obama struck last night in his DNC speech in which he reminded us all that change is still a great thing to hope for, but man, does it take time and effort. I'd really like to think that we can do it.

I Love Lamp: More Glamping!

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This weekend I'm heading up to Vermont for the wedding of a dear friend. It's being held at the summer camp where she and the groom first met eons ago. All of us young'ins are going to be staying in the cabins, having bonfires and skinny dipping at midnight. Had I opted for the camping option I would have surely brought along one of these hilarious tents from Field Candy:

Except for the fact that I forgot to set aside $780 for a tent I'll use twice a year.

(What is I Love Lamp? This is I Love Lamp.)

Words and Pictures

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I'm a sucker for the good old fashioned pairing of words and pictures, especially when done by hand in a beautiful inky line telling a slice-of-life story. So when my friend Kate sent me a link to Wendy MacNaughton's work, well, there went the evening. I'm especially fond of her collection titled Meanwhile: an illustrated documentary series. I love her piece on the SF Public Library as well as her piece on bartenders in The Mission (the hood where Steven and I lived back in San Francisco). Here are a few bits of each, but I HIGHLY recommend following the links above so you can read the entire stories:

Looking at MacNaughton's work I was reminded by how much I adored Maira Kalman's monthly word + art blog she ran with the NY Times about American history called And The Pursuit of Happiness which eventually became a beautiful book. I'm a big George Washington fan, and so I just love her piece on him that has bits like this:

Really, you've got to check out all these pieces out in their entirety because yes, the snippets are lovely, but it's the rhythm of the entire stories and the pacing with the pictures that makes them so interesting. It's not like reading a book, not like watching film. They are entirely their own art form.

Dairy Cow Dream

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My boyfriend Steven Weinberg has had an art show up at Culture: An American Yogurt Company here in Brooklyn for the summer. It's called Dairy Cow Dream.

It's a hilarious series of shadow box framed watercolors that depict imaginary--and frankly pretty insane--frozen yogurt concoctions. There are only two paintings left for sale from the whole slew:

So swing by Culture (5th Avenue between 3rd and 4th Street in Park Slope) to check out the whole show some time before Labor Day when it comes down and/or email Steven to claim either of the two above! $75 each, frame included.

I also just have to add one more from the show that I adore:

Cracks me up.

Speaking of tattoos: Steven and I have been joking all summer about giving ourselves temporary tattoo sleeves. Like really doing it up, biker style. I finally got a hold of some vintage style ones (from Restoration Hardware of all places) and we did a little test run the other day:

Bad ass. (And totally silly.) Can't wait to do the full sleeve. Pics of that to come for sure!

I Love Lamp: Tabloid Table?

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I just came across this coffee table via Design Sponge made from back issues of W magazine and coffee table glass:

I've been holding onto a circular glass coffee table top for two years now and I think I now finally know what to do with it! The only question is, which of my many magazines should I prominently display? I could always do our many back issues of the New Yorker... OR I could admit to the world that I have subscription to Us Weekly. That's right. A weekly subscription to one of those trashy tabloids that sane people like YOU only sheepishly flip through while in line at the grocery store.

You can come over to my house and get your celebrity gossip on any time.

(What is I Love Lamp? This is I Love Lamp.)

I Love Lamp: Pool Me

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Complaining about weather might be one of THE MOST BORING THINGS EVER-- just beating the retelling of nonlinear dreams for first place-- so I'm just going to say that I'm really feeling pools right now... I love the shape and black outlining of the one at the Raleigh Hotel in Miami:

And how about this pool party at the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs?

The last pool party I went to was for my reunion at Pitzer College. After my class graduated, the school began some epic construction projects that resulted in an entire new suite of green dorms that surround the outdoor pool. AMAZING IDEA Pitzer.

And simply because we're on the topic of pools, here's a photo of me and Steven last year at the pool at our rather run down hotel in Bamako, Mali:

Hey, at least there was beer.

(What is I Love Lamp? This is I Love Lamp.)

Then and Now: Park Slope, Brooklyn

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I've been bingeing on historic photos of my neighborhood recently. I just LOVE a good Then-and-Now photo comparison and had to whip up two quick ones for my own fun using photos from Brooklyn's Park Slope: A Photographic Restrospective by Brian Merlis and Lee A. Rosenzweig and Google Maps.  Here's the corner of 9th Street and 7th Avenue looking north, 1928 and now:

And one block up to 8th Avenue and 9th Street, also looking north, 1928 and now:

Flipping through these photos I'm repeatedly struck by how devoid the streets felt of cars and trees back in the day. It's also strange to imagine this neighborhood without its subway stops.

Now to wonder what the place will look like 100 years from now...

I Love Lamp: Paint That Something Crazy

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I came across a slideshow of unconventional paint jobs the other day. I'm really digging the one on the right. It kind of feels like the whole room was dipped in paint.

Maybe the blues are also just reminding me of swimming pools. Oooooh... swimming pools... Did I mentioned it's been in the 90s all week? I'm almost tempted to go to the King & Grove hotel pool that was written up in the NY Times last week with this hilarious caption:

With the midday sun overhead, the poolside setting evoked a twisted version of Miami, where the revelers are paler, covered in more ink and have no abs.

Yeah, we pretty much live in a twisted Miami here in Brooklyn.

(What is I Love Lamp? This is I Love Lamp.)

Who Done It? We Done It!

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Just got a hold of the Advance Uncorrected Edition of that 826 NYC Who Done It? anthology for which Steven and I are contributors. Always an exciting moment to hold the real book in your hands!

The premise of the book is that Herman Q. Mildew– 826?s evil (fictional) editor who scares children into writing books during workshops– has been murdered. All of his authors are suspects who, for this anthology, write in their alibis. For our illustrated contribution, we claim that we were out traveling while learning suspiciously murderous skills…

We're honored and excited to have our story sandwiched among ones by the likes of Libba Bray, Dave Eggers, Lemony Snicket and Mo Willems. Keep an eye out for the book when it comes out in February 2013!

Awards!

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Last year, Steven and I did some illustration and hand lettering work for my alma matter Pitzer College. I was the chair of that year's Alumni Reunion Weekend, so we were asked to help conceptualize and execute the invitations with Pitzer's in-house design team. We all came up with a "Come Home to Roost" booklet that just won two Grand Gold 2012 Circle of Excellence Awards from the Council for Advancement and Support of Education (CASE)! Here are a few pages of it:

Why all the chickens? They're actually Sage Hens-- Pitzer's mascot, many of whom live on campus. And Steven's chickens are just hilarious. Excuse me: sage hens.

Big up to Pitzer's in-house lead graphic designer Mona Ducrocq especially! You rocked it.

Travel, Clouds, and a Laugh

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The NY Times ran a piece online today called Reclaiming Travel by Ilan Stavans and Joshua Ellison.

While I think a lot of it is kind of wordy and ok--pretentious--I also think they really nail it here:

The act of traveling is an impossibly broad category: it can encompass both the death march and the cruise ship. Travel has no inherent moral character, no necessary outcome. It can be precious or worthless, productive or destructive. It can be ennobling or self-satisfied. The returns can be only as good as what we offer of ourselves in the process. 

Yes, yes, and YES. I find myself frequently defending travel for travel's sake, but I think it's very valuable to talk about this fact that there is no "inherent moral character, no necessary outcome" to it as well. Some people travel and return home humbled and inspired in a way that translates into being a better member of society, other people come home with some new bad ideas. That's just a reality.

The article also made me think of one my favorite passages about travel. It's from travel writer extraordinaire Alain de Botton in his book The Art of Travel. Towards the beginning of it, he writes about just how incredible flying by airplane is and how wild it is that we've all gotten used to the magic of it.

There is not much talk about the clouds that are visible up here. No one seems to think it remarkable that somewhere above an ocean we are flying past a vast white candy-floss island that would have made a perfect seat for an angel... In the cabin, no one stands up to announce with the requisite emphasis that if we look out the window, we will see that we are flying over a cloud. [His emphasis.]

That really just cracks me up. Mostly because I imagine how INSANE you would look if you stood up in a plane and started yelling about the obvious. "We are flying over a cloud! A CLOUD YOU GUYS!" But don't you ever have those moments when you're traveling? When you catch yourself doing something that a split second earlier felt unremarkable, but now, suddenly, you're like: "I'm in Vietnam. I am literally across the world from where my house is in this completely random noodle shack that I will probably never see again in my life. What am I doing? WHO AM I?"

One last thought on travel for the day: I really want to go back to San Francisco soon. The Tumblr Whilst in SF had me laughing out loud today. Probably because of my experiences from living there, not being a tourist there, so sorry for the inside joke but...

Man, now I really want a repeating gif of Alain de Botton on a plane yelling "We are flying over a cloud!"

A Disappearing Life in Timbuktu

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When Steven and I were living in Mali, we met fellow Fulbrighter Alexandra Huddleston who had been living in Timbuktu for ten months (!) photographing the rich tradition of religious scholarship in the fabled town. (All photos below are by her, of course.)

She is naturally distraught by the wave of terror and destruction that the Islamic rebel group Ansar Dine has brought to the region since they took over in April. So she has created a beautiful and informative video that explains some of the history and current situation of Timbuktu for her project 333 Saints: A Life of Scholarship Under Threat.

Having lived there myself, I can tell you it perfectly captures the place. Thank you Alexandra for helping spread the word.

333 Saints: A Life of Scholarship Under Threat from Alexandra Huddleston on Vimeo.

I Love Lamp: Moroccan Trip

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This week I've been doing some translation work for that documentary that took me to Morocco this past spring. It's been so satisfying to watch it come to life and become a real movie.  So, naturally, Morocco has been on my mind, and that's why this Friday's I Love Lamp post is all photos I took on that trip of some of my favorite Moroccan design elements.

#1: I am a whitewash freak and I love that Moroccans are too. I love how clean and simple it is. It's a real staple of village decor. (Is that weird thing to say? Village decor?) I WANT TO WHITEWASH EVERYTHING.

#2: Rooftop terraces where you can sip some tea and listen to the sunset call to prayer ring about the sky.

#3: I love me some Moroccan textiles. Especially when used against plain white (whitewash!) or a striking blue.

#4: The dappled light of handmade lanterns. Serene. Sexy.

#5: Tiles! The intricate, hand-chiseled mosaics below are called zelij. LOVE 'em. They're so trippy and bold. That said, I also adore the more simple, French country-style tiles that made it to Morocco via colonization like the black and white ones pictured after the zelij.

#6: Blue doors. I find them welcoming but apparently they're not to everyone-- they are painted that color to ward off evil.

#7: Crazy old riads just waiting for a little love. This abandoned place is next to my host-family's apartment. I've been eyeing it since 2004.

Sometimes, when I can't fall asleep at night, I imagine how I would restore it. And when I say imagine, I mean, I'm placing where the goddamn electric outlets will go. I have mentally designed EVERY CORNER OF IT.

The neighbors have told me that once upon a time it was a really grand "two door, four woman" house, meaning the guy who owned it was rich enough to have four wives and a separate servants' entrance. BALLER. I'm gonna have a lot to live up to.

(What is I Love Lamp? This is I Love Lamp.)

She Can Really Shoot

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I came across Sivian Askayo's photography some time last year when her Intimacy Under the Wires project--photographs of people's laundry drying all around the world-- was bouncing about the web.  So cool, right? I also love her explanation of the project's title: "[Intimacy Under the Wires] reveals images of laundry both intimate and unconfined while their snoopy character makes laundry, a seemingly prosaic subject, all that more intriguing".

She also has some stunning travel photography. In a world where everyone and their mother seems to have some device with which to snap a quick photo while on vacation, talent like hers still shines.

Here are some of my favorites from her travel collections:

By the way, she's entirely self-taught. Yeah. Now let's all go do something equally impressive with our day.

I Love Lamp: Boucherouite Rug Chairs

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Boucherouite rugs from Morocco have gotten pretty hot in the States. Funnily enough, they're rag rugs made from scraps and while adored by a lot of foreigners, I've NEVER seen one proudly displayed in a Moroccan's home. Anthropologie is now selling chairs made from them:

For a mere $1,898 you can own a chair that makes your head spin an endless cycle like this:

"So cool--so Morocco--so modern--or, wait--so... Grandma's weird old rug from her faux-wood paneled basement? No! So cool--so Morocco--so..." and on and on. At least that's what the voice in my head is saying. But then again this is the voice that's currently telling me some anchovies would go really good with my iced coffee right now.

I'm not even joking.

(What’s I Love Lamp? This is I Love Lamp.)

You're not THAT busy, and neither am I

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I'm pretty sure I did a celebratory fist pump reading the first paragraph of Tim Krieder's NY Times opinion piece, The 'Busy' Trap:

Yes Tim! Yes it IS a "boast disguised as a complaint"! And yes, people LOVE to tell me how "crazy busy" they are all the time! And then they look at me, the weirdo freelancer who keeps her own hours, and want to know just how busy or LAZY I am for not being busy.

But I'm with Tim:

The present hysteria is not a necessary or inevitable condition of life; it’s something we’ve chosen, if only by our acquiescence to it... Busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness; obviously your life cannot possibly be silly or trivial or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked, in demand every hour of the day.

I know that when I'm feeling most useless and lost I wish I were busier, but I also know that being busy can be a cheap trick-- a quick way to fool yourself and those around you into thinking that you are very important and absolutely necessary in making the world go round.

That said, I think we are all important and absolutely necessary in some ways-- maybe not on a global crisis scale, but certainly in the lives of those we love who love us back. That's how we should keep the existential crisis at bay-- by acting on that love, not on our impulse to feel busy which then keeps us apart from the important people in our lives.

(Wow, Rafi, how'd you get in this post?)

My absolute favorite part of the piece though was the paragraph in which he addresses his not-so-busy lifestyle as a writer:

I am not busy. I am the laziest ambitious person I know. Like most writers, I feel like a reprobate who does not deserve to live on any day that I do not write, but I also feel that four or five hours is enough to earn my stay on the planet for one more day. On the best ordinary days of my life, I write in the morning, go for a long bike ride and run errands in the afternoon, and in the evening I see friends, read or watch a movie. This, it seems to me, is a sane and pleasant pace for a day. And if you call me up and ask whether I won’t maybe blow off work and check out the new American Wing at the Met or ogle girls in Central Park or just drink chilled pink minty cocktails all day long, I will say, what time?

All I can say to that is... EXACTLY.

I Love Lamp: Crazy Feet

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The other day my Mom gave me this miniature version of John Dickinson's "African Table". (She's an interior designer, so she comes across things like this more than say, you might.) It's pretty damn cute.

I haven't decided where it's going to live or what, if anything, is going to live on top of it. Part of me is tempted to make a mostly useless object even more useless by putting useless things that I love on it. Like the button egg my friend Juliana made me. Or the piggy bank that Steven made in elementary school whose mouth we stuff with our foreign bills.

Or our Porous Walker tambourine toast or a Malian teapot that leaks.

Or MAYBE I'll actually try to reach that desired design balance of form and function and actually use it for something useful. Like as a home for my phone which I feel like I'm constantly losing in my apartment.

By the way yes, I have not joined the smart phone revolution yet. Feel free to text me any time with your Intagram photos that I won't be able to download.

(What's I Love Lamp? This is I Love Lamp.)