I dream of weenie.

Oh my.

I love Summer, I do, but I’m a tiddley bit over it. Ready for Autumnal loveliness. Right now, I love how the back-to-school outfits abound. We had to go to Pearl Paint last week, to get some colourful paper for a shoot, and you can see all the new NYU and Parsons and SVA girls in their Fantasy Fall Fashions, they look GOOD, but it’s still too warm to be comfortably wearing the layered, intricate outfits they’ve come up with. I appreciate their enthusiasm though.

What else?

Kate and I had a walk and talk this morning, about Esquire Magazine. Recently there has been talk of Radical Honesty, a concept that's been repopularised by Brad Blanton. Kate read about it a little while ago, and then in that collective unconscious way, I started to hear about it from other sources as well. I’m into practicing it.

Then she was telling me about another Esquire regular: What it feels like to...
As in. What does it feel like to: BE MAULED BY A BEAR. or GET BEAT UP BY AN ANGRY MOB, or LAND FROM A SKYDIVE WHEN YOUR PARACHUTE FAILS.

This sort of article would never be in a woman’s mag. I love it though. That’s one of those things that makes me get all freaky and excited about life, the stuff YOU JUST DON’T KNOW. There are good and bad versions. Like you’ll NEVER know if something is the “right” choice, at least not until you DO it. It can be maddening, but you just have to give in to the not knowingness of it. Then there are the ‘nobody knows’, questions, like WHO KILLED JFK, or MARILYN? Those drive me bonkers. We will just NEVER KNOW.

I’m not properly religious, but I imagine heaven would be sitting in front of the Wizard of Oz god figure person, and she/he/it would finally answer all those damn questions.

So.



Fashion week is wrapping up and all the babes are going back under their babe rocks. That’s one thing that’s so fun about Fashion Week, there is a definitive spike in street hotness -It’s a meow fest, every which way you look.



Kate and I went to see Levi’s show on Monday. It was F.U.N. Front row seating enabled unfettered people watching. It was a good crowd too, Hassids, Porn Girls, Fat men with dot matrix LCDs on their fedoras, Fashionisti -Purrfect mix, good and bitchy, love it.






Thassall.



Mils