Total Princess

"I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day."

This morning, I watched Hercules for the first time in full. When I was younger I tried to watch it and for some reason, it wasn't happening. It couldn't have been all the pop culture references because Aladdin was chock full of them and I used to watch that one fairly often. The characters seemed alright too and the songs that I remembered hearing were also okay. I even had a Hercules backpack when I was younger so what was my reason?

I do remember a LOT of publicity and TV specials were on to promote it including one with Michael Bolton singing so I think that that's what turned me off from it. Damn you Michael Bolton for delaying me nearly ten years later from watching this movie!

Hercules is quite good. Based on the Greek god (with obvious liberties taken to the story), catchy songs, James Woods makes a mean Hades.

But enough about that; Megara or Meg is a totally awesome witty sarcastic girl with an awesome hairstyle that reminds me of an early foreshadowing of the Amy Winehouse/Chanel advertisements beehive hairdo.

So today I decided to take a comprehensive Quizilla quiz on what Disney princess I am. Typically in these quizzes I am equated with Belle because of the whole brunette who loves to read persona. I like Belle so this is fine. Every now and then, I even get my personal favorite, Cinderella. Usually I have to be a pretty optimistic mood for that to happen though.

But this is the first time I was ever declared to be...



Ariel: spunky, adventurous, leaps before looking, determined, and independent. You tend to defy authority and seek your own path. You are fascinated with the world and curious about everything.

Hmm.
Interesting.

I'm willing to admit that up until recently when I started watching The Little Mermaid again, I did not like Ariel. She gave up her voice for a man (albeit a handsome one) which bothered me for the longest time. Then again, this is a 16 year old girl who gets swoony over a guy she doesn't really know so I can't necessarily say that if a sea witch gave me the option to get him without my voice, I wouldn't do the same.

They also got married awfully fast...and Ariel was once again, 16. Yikes. As Carrie Bradshaw once said, "I'm missing the bride gene. I should be put into a test tube and studied."

On more recent viewings, I've come to like Ariel a little bit more. I'm not over the moon for her or anything but I do admire her adventurous spirit and willingness to jump into the water, regardless of whatever danger may be in it.

So if I'm an Ariel, then I'm kinda happy with it. Breaks me out of my predictable Belle shell.

Love to you all,
Heather

The Wistful Summer

On Wednesday night, I was sitting outside on the patio, typing on my computer and talking to my friend Melissa. Then I hung up and listened to some music while the air enveloped me in this nice little embrace of coolness. I was half-listening to some music on playlist.com and this song came on called "Quelqu'un M'a Dit" by none other than former supermodel turned singer turned French First Lady, Carla Bruni. And let me tell you, as far as triple threats go, Bruni takes the cake.

Anyway, the song was very beautiful. Haunting. Lovely. Lonely. Full.
I almost started crying.

Let me restate that. I've done a lot of heart tugging things in my life. I didn't cry when I moved thousands of miles from home. Or on my birthday (I love my birthday but I cry a lot on it for various reasons). I haven't even had one of my standard Heather's Vodka Tears nights in at least a year now. And I also never bat an eyelash during The Lion King. You know what scene I'm talking about.

But a little French ditty no longer than 4 minutes in length...ahh, the great outdoors got a little dusty. You should download it off of iTunes.

This summer is probably the first summer I've ever had that I can slap the adjective of "wistful" on. I speak of it as though it's almost over when I still have a month left until school begins but I've been thinking a lot this summer; more thoughtfully than usual.

Summer in grade school and middle school for me meant I was usually enrolled in summer craft classes where I made a variety of things over the years such as several hand crafted bars of fragrant soap and a fruit sculpture of a flamingo that was composed mostly of pink grapefruit and rhubarb stilt legs. My Dad also bought me math books so I could better prepare for my next math course the following year. I am terrible at math so these books did their best to aid me. I also spent hours at the park with my family and even more hours at the bookstore reading and reading for hours and grudingly went on the requisite Family Vacation that I always seemed to get sick on. My immune system must have a radar for knowing when I'll be in the company of my relatives.

High school summers weren't the same. I worked my two jobs throughout and came home every night smelling like a combination of Italian Herbs and Cheese bread (Subway) and Frontega Chicken Paninis (Panera). Despite this, I was usually happy to be at work until I started having my summer surguries for my foot in which I would have to limp around for two weeks afterwards, wear a special shoe, take off of work (I hate doing that) and take a million pills which did nothing for me. That continued for three years and in the final year, I had that cancer scare and had to be treated on in a hospital. I heard that when you are put under you aren't supposed to see or hear anything but I saw a white light and kept hearing the song "Slow Ride" by Foghat on constant replay. Then I woke up to the nurses talking and the first thing they said was, "Yeah P. Diddy just changed his name to Diddy."

Talk about the ultimate in Rip Van Winkle moments.

Then the last couple of years I did the two jobs and full college course load circuit which sucked it hard core. Every day was a revolving door of waking up at the crack of dawn, going to class, getting out of class and going home just long enough to read my mail and then going to work. Weekends were the same sans the school. I was fine with the two jobs thing- at this point in my life, I feel uneasy if I'm not working two jobs simultaneously. It gives my life balance, makes me motivated and fulfilled, and I just really, really love working. I'm special like that.

This summer has just been quiet for me. Lots of thoughts, writing, reading too. Old school nostaglia for the past but odd memories like leafing through a rack of dresses at the mall with my Mom. I'm excited for school to start up again as the summer of no Facebook will work quite nicely in my paper for the departmental honors program. I'm looking forward to being surrounded by tons of people again; even waiting in the ultra long lunch line is fine by me. Going back to work and my internship again (yeah! work: the comfort of my life) I have a little grad school idea that I'm going to work quietly on with some recommendation letters but that will remain a mystery until (and if) I am accepted there.

Love to you all,
Heather

Love Me Some Recuenco

A series of photos from one of my favorite photographers, Eugenio Recuenco. He's done tons of spreads for Vogue and did the album booklet for Rammstein's Rosenrot album.
That sky makes me feel absurdly overjoyed every time I see it.



She reminds me of a blue haired Leeloo from The Fifth Element.



It's a bird! It's a plane! It's not any of those actually, kind of looks like the Michelin Man.



The happy couple.

Love to you all,
Heather

Stop, Drop and Give Me Those Shoes: Installment #2

The Robert Clergerie "Douz" platform pump.

Aren't these just crazy cute? They're tall and small all at once! I'm so feeling these right now. Hello autumn, I'm done with summer.

Love to you all,
Heather

Adored By a Hundred Thousand More

August 2009 cover of Nylon featuring one of my favorites, Miss Sienna Miller!
I remember when USA Today ran that article about her being an It Girl. Despite all of her troubles in the past, I still think she is It all the way.
Today is a day for an overload of Sienna pictures. Sienna Sunday, if you will.



I love this quote very much.



Best. Cover. Ever.



Princess braids! So romantic and gorgeous.



Hello my name is Sienna and I am completely chic.



I still think she looks the best ever in Alfie.

Love to you all,
Heather

There's Always That One Movie That Scares the Crap Out of You Exclusively

And I do mean exclusively.

Horror movies run in my family blood. My family is very much into scary movies, often with zombies or vampires as the main players. I happen to enjoy all of those films but am much more of a splatter (splat pack, if you will) genre fan, way, way into the Saw Eli Roth Rob Zombie Backwoods Abandoned Bloody Chainsaw kind of movies. I spent a lot of time holed away in my bedroom with the lights off, watching limbs fly across the TV screen. Thank you, Blockbuster Unlimited Movies Pass.

Over time, I grew to have many favorites. I loved Ginger Snaps, a wildly impressive take on werewolves, poor misunderstood May who only wanted the perfect parts of people, the crazy threesome of Captain Spaulding, Otis and Baby in House of 1000 Corpses and the sequel The Devil's Rejects, and naturally, I was very much a fan of the tragic romance in Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula.

But while I had many favorites, I did not have a single movie that scared me. Like, scary to the point where you have to hide under the covers or sleep with the lights on. I watched movies everyone else thought were terrifying (The Exorcist, The Shining, The Ring...hmm, lots of 'thes') but apart from one movie (It) none of these worked with me.

Then came that fateful day I decided to rent Wolf Creek.

This movie was supposed to be lame. It was a joke with all of the students in my grade at school. For the favorite movies portion of the yearbook, one girl even cited it as her favorite movie of all time (she was a freshman). I imagined there might be a cheap thrill or two but nothing worthwhile. The premise is that some college kids go out to an abandoned place in Australia, car breaks down, friendly Aussie offers them a place to stay for the night and when they wake up, it's a battle to stay alive. Blah, blah, blah, one survivor, probably a final girl, maybe the Aussie guy gets his comeuppance, blood and guts, typical stock plot. I was jaded and ready for the formula.

How wrong I was. (Spoilers ahead, fair warning)

Wolf Creek starts out innocently enough. Sort of. These two British girls are on holiday in Australia, Liz and Kristy.

Liz- brunette, smart, strong.
Kristy- blonde, weak, dependent on Liz.

Anyway, they're at a party that looks like it fell straight out of some Laguna Beach episode. They meet a guy named Ben there. Ben is cute and the girls like him. They trust this stranger that they met at a party of random drunk guests enough to spend the rest of their holiday with him, even so much as driving out to this deserted middle of nowhere place called Wolf Creek where a crater fell and made a big hole. Woo. That'll make for an interesting "what I did over my holiday" return paper.

Seriously though, you're in Australia and you decide that instead of seeing the sites and amazing architecture or at least trying to drive around and find the house Nicole Kidman lived in, you must go to this one abandoned place instead? Let's not forget that you're going with only two other people, your weak bestie (I'm putting myself in Liz's shoes) and a strange guy you barely know. But the boy is cute. That important detail must not be overlooked while rationing whether you go or not.

They go out to the crater place which predictably sucks. Everyone gets back in the car which won't start. Time seems to have literally stopped because everyone's watches are frozen and the cell phones have no reception. Thanks, T-Mobile. They all stay in the car until the incredibly pitch black nightfall sets in. Then a blue pickup truck with a guy named Mick shows up. Mick keeps his freak flag under wraps and with his charming Aussie accent, gets the threesome to agree to spend the night at his camp where he makes them all dinner and they shoot the shit until they all go to sleep, from drugs slipped in the water they drank. Nighty-night.

When Liz wakes up, she's tied to a bed . She's alone and the only reason she's awake is because Kristy is screaming her head off off screen. Kristy is tied up outside with Mick, our helpful Aussie, shooting at her. And our cute boy, Ben, he is nowhere to be found.

Speeding the plot up, Liz takes control of the situation and tries to get Kristy and herself out of there (note that they do not stop and say "I wonder where Ben is." applause Liz, applause. he probably wouldn't do that either if the roles were reversed).

Liz winds up in a garage and finds pictures and video cameras from past victims. These are disturbing because many were small children. Then she happens to find her video camera.

Early on in the movie, Liz and Kristy were filming their holiday. When they were with Ben, the trio went to get gas for their car. In the background, you can clearly see Mick's blue pickup. He was watching them, even then. That paints a creepy portrait for anyone on a vacation to hypothetically contemplate.

Onward to the deaths...

Liz dies.

The magnitude of this was stunning to me. Liz is the smart, resourceful, brunette who practically has the "FINAL GIRL" phrase stamped across her forehead. And she gets it first from Mick who stabs her in the back and then in the spine, rendering her unable to walk. He then cuts her head off and puts it on a stick (off camera).

You just didn't see it coming.

Kristy is still alive. Maybe our final girl will defy the typical stereotype? She manages to get off to the highway and gets a ride with a stranger but Mick catches up with her in his truck (because she spent like, 20 minutes waiting around for Kristy when she could have already made some headway) and shoots and kills the stranger. Kristy drives but Mick shoots out the car tires with his sniper rifle and then shoots and kills Kristy and sets the car on fire as well as Kristy.

Meanwhile...we find Ben has been tied up in a cave a la Jesus Christ. All he does is untie himself and finds a highway and winds up being the only survivor. I shit you not. While those two girls went through unimaginably horrific situations, Ben walks a free man.

Note that he does not try to canvass the camp to find the girls either. Suspicious. According to the tagline, Wolf Creek is supposed to be inspired by "actual events" but isn't, though it takes a few killing cues from infamous backpack murderers.

And this movie was the one that scared the bejeezus out of me. I have no idea why (though the whole thing about the smart girl getting axed first probably holds a heavy hand in it). There are somewhat scarier movies like High Tension and The Descent that should have frightened me more but nope, Wolf Creek did it. It's worth a watch if you haven't seen it before...

But I kind of just spoiled the whole thing so maybe you don't need to watch it.

Love to you all,
Heather

Looks I Love

Dree Hemingway. I'm so insanely in love with that lipstick color it's just not even funny.

Model from U.O. website starring the Deena & Ozzy suede heel. I want this entire outfit. It is perfect to add some bracelets to and a bright lip shade.



Rebecca Hall in UK's Tatler. Prettiness squared.



One of my favorites, Zooey Deschanel at Late Night with Conan O'Brien. Love that shirt.

Love to you all,
Heather

Sage Advice From: Sandi Griffin, Fashion Club President

I've been spending the better part of this summer watching and rewatching old episodes of Daria, this cartoon that used to run on MTV. And while I love the dialogue and could equally write a series of posts on witty one-liners from Daria, her sister Quinn and even Daria's crush Trent, I've chosen Sandi Griffin and her words of wisdom.

For anyone not familiar with the show, Sandi is your typical high school Queen Bee of the social clique, The Fashion Club. She has a million rules for her group to follow and severe consequences follow for those who do not. Daria's sister Quinn is a member of the group and could easily overthrow Sandi as group leader. They have a frenemy relationship most of the time.

Advice from The Chic One...

On writing

I mean, how hard is it to type stuff?

On the politics of saying something is cute when it is not (which the Fashion Club doesn't do)

I would never tell Quinn that she looks cute in that thing she always wears.

On assisting friends with fashion advice

Friends don't let short-waisted friends wear hip-huggers.

On advising Quinn with healthy food choices

Help yourself to the grapes. I hear they're good for breakouts.

On athletics

Can you imagine joining an actual sport?

On the homeless crisis

The homeless have suffered enough. Don't make them wear a cotton-poly blend, too.

On a bad nightmare

Mine was about orphans who needed ankle boots.

On humanitarian awards in the community

Why settle for a sign, when you can have a plaque.

Love to you all,
Heather

And The Sky Was Made of Amethyst/And All the Stars Look Like Little Fish

Sequins, sparkles, multifaceted stones.
If you got 'em, wear 'em. I'm seeing a trend of pretty gems everywhere and am totally loving these socks with the Swarovski crystals.



This is idol worship right here.
And I also think I had a pen with a similar look once. Go Bic. You are cutting edge, as usual.



Let's not limit ourselves to our legs. Hands and sprinkles are a crazy good look too.

500 Days of Summer was the sweetness. Go see it!

Love to you all,
Heather

Mighty Kids My Ass, It's a Straight Up Happy Meal for Me

This is how my train of thought works. I read an article about Starbucks testing new stores with alcohol to get people away from McDonald's McCafe. I talk about the McCafe with my boss and then bam! I think about Happy Meals.
As you can see from the picture above, this was what I and every other kid my age ate in grade school. It was a simpler time. There were no calorie and saturated fat warnings on the wrappers. Everybody drank soda or apple juice. The boxes had this sweet little handle to make them easily handy. And our favorite incentive was always nestled next to the cheeseburger in plastic wrap, a toy, usually TV or movie themed.
You couldn't have given it a more spot-on name.



This is not a Happy Meal.
Granted, I'm aware that this is the adult version of the meal and that they're trying to follow a similar childlike formula of the box having a handle and what I assume to be a step tracker as the "toy" incentive. Eating something like this, with the box reminding you, "Hey buddy, ya gonna drop those pounds?" is far from a happy experience.
I look back on my childhood which wasn't too long ago as opposed to that of the kids of today and I feel kinda sorry for them. Today, it's all about options. McDonald's offers apple slices, fries, milk, juice, soda, water, parfaits, you name it as a side choice. The toys are nowhere near as good and the boxes have for the most part been converted to bags. Bland, dull, grease stained bags.
But a true child of today won't even go to McDonald's. Instead, they'll head to Panera Bread or Starbucks and order a pesto dried artichoke and gouda cheese panini and drink a Cappuccino or Frappe. All they need now are the notes on the Zergen case and an iPhone.
The latter of which they probably already have.
8 going on 34.



When the boxes were good at McDonald's, they were very good. Activities were all over the box so while you sat there and ate, you could connect the dots and make a Snow White crown or play a crossword puzzle. If you were stumped for an answer to the riddle, the answers were always on the bottom of the box. And sometimes the little folds had activities underneath them! Brilliant!



One cannot forget the gleaming beacon of light if you went inside to order from McDonald's. I even recall some that did not have drive-throughs. The display cases were filled with all of the toys included in that particular set.
I remember the Snow White case. I desperately wanted her and the little green wishing well and forced my parents to go to McDonald's an abnormal amount of times to get it (which was only a sneak preview of what was to come when Beanie Baby mania hit).
I got the witch and the dwarf in the crystal caravan. Snow White was always, always out no matter where we went.
A boy in my class Eric, he got Snow White.
The universe can be quite mocking.



A Ghostbusters happy meal circa '87. This is really cool. Slimey actually looks really cute and happy and a Stay Puft marshmellow man toy as well as stickers?
Bravo, Mickey D's, bravo.



I would not rest until I had the Dot driving the ice cream van racing toy.



McDonald's did alot of miniature Barbie toys. Usually they did them alongside Hot Wheels cars. This was probably due to the fact that Mattel was the corporation behind the two but also, little boys did not want to open their boxes to find a smiling blonde doll inside. Cooties man. Cooties.
This Barbie was one of the very first ones I ever had! Her thing was a little plastic dress that snapped on and off. As I was already highly engrossed in the wardrobe of my regular Barbies, even going so far as to purchase the Fashion Avenue line of clothing, it seemed perfect that this was one of the first ones for me.



I also really liked this one but was highly disgruntled that she was molded to the sleigh. And now that I look at her some more, there's something odd about her eyes.



On a unrelated note, this is a can of RC Cola from Japan starring my favorite superhero, Sailor Moon. Fucking amazing!

Love to you all,
Heather

Thursday Logic

*As always, in love with today being the day before Summer!!!

"It it were all upside down, we would finally see how inconsequential things really are."

That was my thought this morning. I woke up, got dressed, and laid outside of my job in the sitting area, listening to a mix of music and staring at the ceiling.

Most days, I just want to take a walk on the ceiling or at least have every building turned upside down for the day. Everything you paid for, wanted, needed, desired, all of it just strewn to the bottom of the top.

So that was my logic for that thought which as with most things I think of, went straight onto my arm with a pen. I never seem to have paper handy.

Sometimes I miss my old bus rides to school because during those rides, I thought a lot. Now I think even more, sometimes the ideas turn and slant into another direction but keep in with the bigger picture of who I am all the same.

Love to you all,
Heather

I Am Molly Ringwald

Oh boy, here come a set of petty insecurities brought to you by yours truly.
I'm sitting at work this morning, updating my service day calendar and yawning every 3.4 seconds. Very rarely am I ever fully awake in the morning. I could go to sleep at 8pm and wake up a total zombie. So over the years, I've just decided to not even bother setting a bedtime for myself anymore. I'm still just as tired if I go to sleep early or stay up watching Marie Antoinette and snipping a collage for my bedroom wall at 3am.

My cubicle happens to be located by three other coworkers. My optimistic side says that they aren't really bad people. Totally bland in comparison to some of my former coworkers (love 'em still) but still nice. My pessimistic side cannot stand them, especially thanks to a conversation I overheard last week with one in particular (a guy) making fun of people who have to live on food stamps. I had to hold myself down from turning around and verbally massacring the boy.
Every morning, I have to endure some inane conversation between the three which goes a little something like this:
Girl 1: Hey
Boy: Hey
Girl 2: How was your weekend?
Boy: Uhh, it was like, really sick, you know?
Girl 1: That's cool, what did you do?
Boy: Uhh, you know. I like, went to a bonfire. Everyone was there. So sick, you know?
Girl 2: Oh, yeah that sounds cool.

Jesus Christ. I understand that it is summer and that turning off the brain is totally fine but the lack of adjectives and verbs is unsettling. I would rather sit through a M. Night Shyamalan movie marathon than listen to this.

Speeding it up, the three of them ordered pizza and had a pizza party. In the adjoining room. And they didn't invite me.

What?



"I can't believe this. They fucking forgot my birthday."
-Molly Ringwald, Sixteen Candles (preach it, sister)

It was like being in high school all over again only in my high school, my grade was actually a hell of a lot nicer. You could sit on the outskirts of the group, reading a book but someone would still hand you a slice of pizza.

Maybe middle school is a better comparison?

I didn't tell anyone I worked with that inside I was silently fuming with rage. I didn't mention that I wanted to throw greasy slices of pizza at the girls and bitch the boy out for being among other things, a massive tool. By the time I left my job, they were still in the midst of having the pizza party and talking. I was pretty much done at that point- it was screw it, I'll have a grilled cheese instead.

Those three are literally in a different world from me. They're the big school-spirit, peppy, preppy kids. The kinds of kids who will dance around and declare to their peer groups, "Like, you will like, totally love it here at the university!!!" and wear class T-shirts and face paint to a pep rally.

As for myself, you have to drag me to a pep rally against my will and God forbid I should ever have to take a group of kids on a tour of my school. I love this school, there's no doubt, but I would totally scare the shit out of the kids by telling them semi-true ghost stories and drawing a pentagram on a step beforehand to incorporate into a ghost story ("And this is all that remains of poor Alyssa Brunfield. That, and a severed pinky.") and would lose the group midway through the tour by suggesting they "self-explore" the campus.

So there's a part of me that's in conflict. A part that says, "Why would you even care? You would go out there, eat the pizza and sit in silence because you have nothing to say to any of them. It's not like they would even get your jokes."

And the other part that quietly whimpers, "But they could have asked. It's only polite."

"Oh my God Heather, do you realize who you sound like? Molly Ringwald. Pretty in Pink." My Mom told me via the phone when I told her about the silly but kinda hurtful morning I had had.

"You have to wonder who these kind of people grow up to be like when they're older." I replied, "Like all the administration ass kissers."

"I'll tell you who they grow up to be. Those human resource workers who tell you what job you can or can't get."

Holy crap, I love my Mom and Dad. Aside from a few of my friends, they're the only people in the world I can really put all of issues out in front of and trust that they not only relate with me, but they will make fun of the situation until we're all laughing and nothing's significant anymore. Seriously, no better pair of parents around.

Speaking of Dad...I told him the story as well and he said I should have just walked up the kids (no better way to describe them) and loudly asked, "How was the pizza party?"

Oh and one last story...

Tomorrow we're doing a group photo at the baseball stadium. Everyone's got a mandatory dress code of jeans and T-shirts. I work at my other job during that time, one that's in a office and requires a dressier ensemble. They were very kind to let me leave to take the photo but I explained to my boss that I would probably be wearing black dress pants instead.

"But can't you change into jeans for the picture?" She asked me.

This is the moment in the story where if you are related to me or close friends with me, one pips in with, "But Heather, you don't own any jeans."

A fact. I've never been a denim girl.

"But I don't own any jeans." I told my boss.

The look on her face was beyond creepy. A smile pasted still with eyes that were quietly judging me. Not in the good way either, not in the "hey that's okay, we're all different" way.
More like the "okay...that's really weird" way.

The next line from her was priceless.

"That's okay. We'll just stand you in the back."

If it could have, my jaw would have thudded to the ground. Yeah, let's stick the 5'4" girl behind all of the tall guys. What. The. Fuck. As though I was an embarrassment or something.

Oh no. No no no. I plan on wearing my tallest heels tomorrow. A nice jacket to mask the "group tee." My brightest red lipstick. Big earrings.

"Absolutely Heather! I would drag out my tallest shoes too!" Dad, always understanding and totally getting it too.

Like Molly Ringwald making the prom dress in Pretty in Pink and looking way gold and deluxe as opposed to the Stepford clones, I plan on looking ultra fabulous and outshining all of those plain Janes.

Love to you all,
Heather

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let Down Your Long Hair

As I have been very wrapped up in Summer mania, I cannot forget another young lady whom I'm looking forward to seeing her debut in 2010. Disney's Rapunzel (once tentatively titled Rapunzel: Unbraided which was unbelievably silly and I'm glad they changed the name) will release. I think it's part of Disney's attempt to return to the second (maybe push for a third but I think Pixar has already claimed that spot) Golden Age a la The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and The Lion King era.
She certainly is cute! Kristin Chenowith will be lending her vocal support so I think that a musical side number would probably be mandatory.



A comparison of Fragonard's The Swing vs. Rapunzel

"The original version was that a girl got pulled from the modern world and replaced Rapunzel and Rapunzel got turned into a squirrel. But we’re on a clearer, more classic fairy-tale sort of track right now with Dean Wellins as co-director... It really plays on the mystery of the girl in the tower."
-Doeri Welch-Greiner

Uh yeah. Disney, with regards to that prior plot, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING? A squirrel? A squirrel??!! Neither I nor the 9 year old version of myself would dare spend ten dollars on something with that ridiculous of a premise. And if we must follow along with the Disney food chain of modern girl=Rapunzel=squirrel, then where exactly would the squirrel go? He (I would assume) would be a sassy sidekick with some kind of personality in order to hang around the leading lady (Rapunzel) so I assume that the squirrel would wind up in the body of the modern world girl which would elicit some nibbling and squirrely noise jokes, maybe even a fart joke or two.
Ring, ring. Hello, Rob Schneider? Remember when you did The Hot Chick? Well, we here at Disney have something almost like that for ya, but with a twist!
Well, at least Disney got an attitude adjustment. They didn't call it the Golden Age for nothing.



As you can see, the animation has also changed. It is much darker, a little more on the sinister side which I always like to see Disney do (though not necessarily on the level of Hunchback). They have another movie releasing this December The Princess and the Frog and lordy, this one has been plagued with issues (offending those in the French and African American communities with everything from the original title to the leading princess name).

I'll let you watch and see for yourself what you think.


What comes to my mind:
1) Why must every Disney film trailer post the '90's start off with an introduction of all of the past greats?
2) The frog reminds me alarmingly of Jean-Bob from The Swan Princess. Google it. Even the same damn French accent. And the whole "ya gotta kiss me" storyline. Seriously, is that all male frogs can think about?

Love to you all,
Heather

Always Cap Your Lipstick

In the Summer of Your Life- My Current Playlist

*The Gossip Heavy Cross
*INXS Need You Tonight
*Moby Shot in the Back of the Head
*Leaves Eyes Senses Capture
*Adam Ant Stand and Deliver
*Fauxliage All the World
*Depeche Mode Shake the Disease
*The Smiths Bigmouth Strikes Again
*Yeah Yeah Yeahs Zero

There's a bunch more songs but playlists are supposed to be on the short side, I think.
Love to you all,
Heather

Emma Stone and "Foux Da Fafa"

The many different ensembles worn by Emma Stone, most memorable for playing Jules in Superbad. My personal favorites are the middle Di Hera dress and the far right gray dress. Gold, girl. You wear it well.



This is from Flight of the Conchords, the little HBO gem about two New Zealand folk artists, Bret and Jemaine, who come to find success in the United States under the fumbling but well-meaning hand of their band manager Murray.
In this clip, Bret and Jemaine sing a little French ditty called "Foux Da Fafa" as they try to woo the bakery shop girls into falling for them. When translated, Foux is basically composed of the simplest conversational French possible, with plenty of baguettes and the occasional French male actor name dropped.

I would like a croissant.
I am delighted.
Where is the library?
Here’s my passport.
Ah, Gerard Depardieu.
A baguette!
A baguette!

And now the trip to the supermarket.
Grapefruit
Pineapple
Orange juice
Beef
Soup of the day
Camembert
Jacques Cousteau
Baguette!

Hello.
Hello.
Hello.
Hello, mister.
Hello my small foreign currency exchange office.

How are you doing?
I’m doing okay.
How are you doing?
I’m doing okay.
Voilà! A conversation in the park!

Where is the book?
At the library.
And the dance music?
At the dance club.
And the dance clubs?
It’s here, baby!
One, two, one, two, three, four!

Where is the swimming pool?
Pardon me?
Where is the swimming pool?
Uh…
Splish splosh
Uh…
Eh…
I don’t understand.
Do you speak the French?
Eh?
Do you speak the French?
Uh … no.
Hmmmm.

It's still very funny and cute. This one and "Bowie" are probably my favorite songs by the Conchords.
And before I forget it, Habitat for Humanity was amazing! I am proud to say that there is now a house with a window panel that I helped hammer in. Got to saw wood, drill holes, hammer nails, all that handy craftsman work that when I was a kid, I thought of every possible excuse to avoid doing.
Our service sites are coming along nicely for service day too. I literally want to do like, three of them right now but I'm very certain I'm going to do "Boo at the Zoo" at the Santa Barbara Zoo. It's all about getting the zoo wings ready for my favorite holiday, Halloween, by painting and sculpting. Oh yeah!
I also think I better start doing that Monday night soup kitchen volunteer work again. It was alot of fun and I met some pretty cool characters (ahem, Michael the lust object) there. Volunteering also fills me with satisfaction, knowing that I stepped outside of my comfort bubble to help others and enjoyed it all the while. The stories that other people have are fantastic too, all unique and interesting. I think I do it more to hear the stories of others sometimes. Not that's a bad thing. I have a notebook filled with old stories I've heard at the soup kitchen.

Love to you all,
Heather

Glove Love

Ever since the passing of Michael Jackson, I revisited an old shirt that I fell in love with ever since I saw Jane Aldridge from Sea of Shoes wear it.
The Commes des Garcons glove shirt.
So I went in search of the shirt. I didn't find very many to purchase but I did find variations of the shirt around online.



And in addition to the shirt, pants too (!!)



There is something oddly comforting about this shirt. Almost like the invisible man came over to give you a hug and left his gloves behind. It's protective, almost to a claiming point.

Love to you all,
Heather

It's A Nice Day to Start Again/It's a Nice Day for a White Wedding

"My marriage ended on my wedding day."
-Bianca Jagger



Rocking the YSL suit, I've loved these pictures ever since I was little. Mick and Bianca look like a couple of fun loving, cool kids, like those couples who are together for a few months and have the ability to say, "Hey, you know what would be fun? Getting married." and actually go through with the whim.
Even though in their case, it didn't last, in part to this fox...



Jerry Hall, looking spectacular in the Chanel ads. Love these.

Love to you all,
Heather

No, I'm Sid! Oh, So I'm Nancy?

Isn't it just obvious where I'll be on July 17th? You should spent some time with Summer, you know.



Love to you all,
Heather

Liquid Dress

What a fabulous texture.
Photographed by Guy Aroch.

Love to you all,
Heather

Another List of My Favorite Things- TV Version!

I am a huge contradiction. I just wrote a post on how I didn't like Twitter because I'm against being all self-absorbed and tooting my horn and here I am scribbling about a couple of TV shows I like. Eh, it's summertime. That's my excuse until I think of something better.
Onward to the TV shows.
I used to be a heavy TV junkie when I was younger. I had like, a set schedule for my favorite shows. Every Tuesday night at 7pm, I would beg my parents to let me have the remote for the next hour and usually, because I lacked a TV of my own, they consented. And let me tell you, Tuesday nights used to be amazing. For several years, I watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer, idolizing Sarah Michelle Gellar with her amazing tai quan do moves. When that ended its run, Gilmore Girls was next in line. This show I watched with my Mom, creating some of that special "mother-daughter time" that we also had with Buffy. I liked the show and LOVED the dialogue because even though very few of my contemporaries spoke like that, that kind of pop culture encrusted language was what I loved to read and hear. I liked Rory but my Mom insisted I was Paris Gellar all the way. Paris was Rory's kinda-friend, an overly confident, driven trailblazer who only had to snap a single sentence at you to remind you that you sucked and were nowhere near her level.
Paris was the shit. Full on. Reminds me of another female TV heroine from Dead Like Me, that I'll get into on another post.
Gilmore finishes the run or namely, loses a bomb writer and gets a lousy three more seasons of crappy scripts. Where's a girl to go when she's been in Sunnydale and Stars Hollow for the better part of my tweenage/teenage life?
Manhattan,
The OC (don't call it that),
And...
Paddy's Pub in Philly.

1) Sex and the City
Oh man. I don't think there is enough room for the adoration I have for this show. I'll sum it up as the reasoning I had for it in high school when I was trying to explain why I liked it to the guy I sat next to in Yearbook meetings.
People have their comfort foods. Some like mashed potatoes, others are all about mac and cheese. I have Sex and the City.
The first episode I ever watched was An American Girl in Paris. Part Deux. As in, the very last episode of the final season in the series. So it did kind of ruin things slightly by knowing everything that was happening six years after the episodes occurred. But I watched them season by season, episode by episode, interested in the journey the girls went on to get to the people they were in the end.
Naturally there were plotlines I didn't care for (Samantha's brief fling with being a lesbian, Miranda and the very dorky, un-Miranda choice of Skipper, that one episode where Charlotte doesn't like Harry to sit on her white furniture naked) and I sat through these knowing there were good ones to come. And of course there were (both of Charlotte's marriages, Miranda kissing Steve in the rain outside of Denial, Samantha describing Richard's penis as "dickalicious" and pretty much every coffee shop scene).
Where, oh where, is Miss Carrie Bradshaw? As an aspiring writer yourself with a penchant for loving fashion, how she is not your Numba One reason for loving the show? Didn't you like her at all?
Sure I did. Just not at first. For the first two seasons, I really didn't like Carrie all that much. She had really bad taste in guys and even Mr. Big seemed like a cad. I was totally all about Charlotte York, having been described by some girls I vaguely knew as "you. you are totally Charlotte in SATC!"
Tee-hee!
Then the seasons progressed and Carrie was blessed with some very nice, strong relationships with guys who were her match, in varying degrees. Even then, I wound up liking her boyfriends better than her. Aiden was an absolute sweetheart, the very guy I know girls would kill to be with. I cried when they broke up for the second time because that was it, it was all over.
Fret not, for more guys were around the corner. I really liked Berger too. With his sense of humor, he definitely seemed like the kind of guy I would go on a date with. But after that breakup came the ultimate in too good to be trues.
Aleksandr Petrovsky.
I had this huge crush on Mikhail Baryshnikov because of this show. He was magnetic. The man was completely arrogant about his art installations and crumbled pretty fast if people thought his work was stupid. But he was confident and had an awesome Russian accent. Carrie fell for him and in doing so, kind of lost a part of herself in the process. When Alek waved the offer of living with him in Paris to her, she quit her job and left her apartment with the majority of her clothes and Manolos STILL INSIDE HER CLOSET.
I know he would buy her all the lovely pretty dresses she could ever need but you left the naked dress from the bus billboards! The Roberto Cavalli blouse that Aiden tried to get you to throw away! Even those damn silver Manolos that you had to take off at the party at Tatum O'Neal's home and made her go through high hell to get back for you after the shoes came up MIA! What sort of fashionista would do such a thing? It's Paris, France. It's across an ocean. Let me tell you, if somebody was going to take me to another country, I would pack EVERY SINGLE CLOTHING ITEM for fear I might not see it again. Expensive, yes. Memories associated with clothes and fantastic appearance while wearing them, priceless.
It was foreshadowing in its own quiet way, now that I reflect on it.
All the while, Mr. Big is still kind of quietly hovering over Carrie because she can't get him off of her mind and Paris turns out to be a mess for Carrie because she doesn't stick to learning the language and feels alienated and doesn't really try to make friends even though the few people who act nice to her, she rudely blows off to be with Alek. What a true New Yorker.
I won't ruin the ending for you. You can probably guess it by now. Carrie winds up very happy, as is the requisite for her.
SATC is still my comfort. When I'm not in the best of moods, I find myself feeding my DVD player or turning on my iPod to watch an episode or two. Nothing in the show is surprising because I've watched it so often but that is totally fine with me. It's familiar, safe and enjoyable.
Just how comfort food should be.



2) Arrested Development
I like to think of my senior year of high school as The Year of Good Humor. For you see, no one student in my grade was probably straining their cheek muscles more than I was. That was the year I started to read The Onion and actually laughed so hard, I was rolling around in the humor aisle of Borders on the carpet. All I can say is Jim Anchower is one funny columnist.
When I graduated, I spent the first few weeks of freedom working my two jobs and filling out this fatty crossword puzzle book I found on the steps of the cathedral on my ceremony day. Hands down, best grad present I received.
I still needed something else. Some funny TV...so I went to Blockbuster and rented Season One of AD, a show that had quietly been buzzed about at my high school.
They had me right at the part where Tobias broke the sternum of a man he thought needed CPR when he was really asleep. Gold.
Arrested Development is all about a man named Michael Bluth. He comes from a pretty colorful family. The reason I wound up loving AD to the degree that I did was because of his family. As I came from a big (ish) family of my own composed of a bunch of people with cool personalities, I always love watching shows about families who either by situation or dialogue, reflect my own. See Malcolm in the Middle or any Wes Anderson film for further detail.
In the pilot, the family is all on a boat anticipating father George Sr.'s upcoming announcement of who will partner with him in the Bluth company. Michael is pretty confident he's got it in the bag. Who else in the family would do it? We get a rundown of the family. Lucille is the mom, a little on the sloshed side from the neverending vodka martinis she swills. She's not particularly fond of her children, demanding that Michael constantly pacify Gob for whom she "doesn't care for", babying Buster by letting him, a thirty something man, still live with her and not giving her daughter Lindsay an elephant brooch to avoid a weight comparison.
Lindsay is Michael's twin sister, married to Tobias Funke who is a self-described "analrapist" (analyst/therapist) and even though she's all for causes like HOOP, still cares enough about her appearance to spend $65 dollars on a bottle of hair conditioner.
Gob (George Oscar Bluth) is Michael's older brother who loves to put on magic shows, has a puppet named Franklin and tries to win the affections of his distant father. C'mon!
Buster has studied virtually everything in college including cartography but still thinks the blue part of the globe is land. He winds up in a relationship with his mother's friend, Lucille II.
Michael has done everything right. He works hard, lives in the model home with his son George Michael (not since the use of Michael Bolton in Office Space has a pop star's name been so well used) who is in essence a mini-me of himself.
George Sr. gives the partner position to Lucille who is ecstatic. Michael pouts but not for long. Boat cops have arrived to arrest George Sr. for fraud. All of a sudden, dad's in jail and the family is broke and Michael escapes his family who is well on their way to crumbling with Lucille putting Buster in charge. But, as he's a good man, he comes back to help them after they beg him for it.
The dialogue and script is spot-on. There are a million jokes within jokes in this show and little things you may not have noticed early on come back to play pivotal roles as the series progresses.
Plus, I would have totally worked at the banana stand. Probably burned it too.
To go into a spiel on how FOX cancelled this after only three seasons is not worth the time nor effort. In the words of Gob, they made a huge mistake.



3) It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Are you there God? It's me, Heather. Where can I find a Paddy's Pub in real life? All the cool kids hang out there. Actually, they hang at Lemon Hill. I meant, the gang hangs out at Paddy's. Charlie and Mac and Dennis and Sweet Dee and Frank. Sometimes the McPoyles. And maybe one day the waitress might be there. Let me know if this bar ever exists.
Oh Sunny. Apple of my eye, savior to my first semester at the university. With you, nothing's off limits. Dumpster babies, the Mafia, crack and coke addictions, abortion, Nazis, pimping off your own kids.
Thanks for that.
If Seinfeld was a show about nothing, then Sunny is the show about next to nothing. You can jump in at any episode and not miss anything. Maybe Dee's reference to being addicted to crack might throw for a loop but head back to the episode "Dennis and Dee Go On Welfare" and your problem is solved.
I got onto this show because my friend Paul was really into it. He said it was really funny and because he has an excellent sense of humor, I took his word on it.
Smart move.
The characters are all self-centered and way into their interests over the interests of others. Mac and Dennis run a bar named Paddy's Pub. Mac has a father who is in prison and as a high schooler, he was popular only because he sold all the cool kids pot. Dennis thinks he is still quite attractive but was once mistaken for a sex offender that moved in the neighborhood. Sweet Dee, Dennis' twin sister, also believes she's really hot which the rest of the gang loves to tease to death and she once had a crack addiction. Frank is Dennis and Dee's father. Don't give him acid.
And finally there is Charlie.
I love Charlie Kelly, that kid is hilarious. He does the grunt work at the bar or "Charlie Work" as everyone calls it because it's pretty sick. He's madly in love with a coffee shop waitress who will never give him the time of day. He wrote a bomb song called "Day Man" and plays keyboards really well. He is the green man. You have to watch to find out what that means.
Please watch it. You really won't regret it. There's not a big goal that the characters all move to in each episode, it's just for shits and giggles.
FYI, I've been listening to some Information Society lately (love me some '80's music) and I happened to notice on the cover is a very similar green man to Charlie. Coincidence? Doubt it.

Love to you all,
Heather