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Woman 8/26/09
Immediately, one notices the obvious. White pants. Summer white, pristine and not quite sheer and very weather appropriate. The white singlet. Ok, the white wifebeater. Plain white and in this context, again, very weather appropriate. On her arm was a grey cardigan, no doubt for the cooler air that her work environment was sure to provide.
Curiously, she wasn’t tan at all. All that white, and her skin was just as alabaster though perhaps not as severe. The singlet revealed very freckled pale arms which matched her equally freckled and pale face. No makeup on her but a slight hint of lip gloss. She had shoulder length brown hair.
On her ears, pearl earrings. One pearl on each lobe, sitting on a gold setting.
As much as one noticed the big hits of white. It also came into view that there was a very deliberate secondary color at play. Orange.
On her neck was a necklace composed of three strands of beads. Well, more like pearls – orange pearls. Three stands of orange faux pearls that demanded to be noticed in a sea of white.
On her feet, a pair of burnt orange sandals. Faux-leather gladiator-inspired straps from toe to ankle with a comfortable sole - maybe Aerosoles? And all this topped off with toenails in a near matching color. Orange, but not quite burnt. Her fingernails though were clean – no color.
Her handbag was this large brown leather handbag. In a hobo styled design. A large brown leather strap on each end attached to silver buckles. No pockets or outside zippers. Just one large opening on the top of the bag.
And as modern women are no taking to doing, she was wearing a men’s watch. A stainless steel sports model with a round black face. Couldn’t make out the brand though.
About three stops into her ride, she pulled a book out of her handbag and proceeded to spend the rest of the ride in reader-trance. She was reading “Start Where You Are: A Guide to Compassionate Living” by Pema Chodron.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Crooklyn
Man 6/16/09
People talk about the Brooklyn attitude like they do about the Bronx attitude or in some cases, the Queens one. (Apologies to Staten Island and Manhattan) The more one lives in Brooklyn, the more you realize that perhaps there is such a thing. Starting from Tony Manero, to the Eighties rap renaissance and followed by the latter day Jay-Z shout-outs. There have been all along pop culture the personification of this Brooklyn attitude.
The kid was dressed much like a lot of his urban compatriots. First off, the shoes. Air Jordans. Not the late model ones, but the early model re-issue. Looked like Air Jordan III to the non-expert shoegazer. The white patent leather, the purple accents and finished with ultra clean white laces. A modern take on a street classic.
Super skin tight black skinny jeans. Worn not in a rocker or hipster manner, but more in the style of the street skaters of today. Just hang out at Tompkins Square Park if you need a closer look.
Over the jeans was a large black puffer vest. It was severely oversize. It’s shiny fabric reflecting the light off the subway train and highlighting the quilted design. The hood was detachable and the collar was in perpetual pop-up mode. Two side hand pockets on the front. Basic gear for this crowd.
But all this was put together with quite some thought. The tee under the puffer vest was this purple crewneck. Not royal but your basic purple. And on his head was a Colorado Rockies baseball cap. Why the Rockies? Purple. The interlocking CR logo was purple with a white outline – no doubt the cap was bought to complete the color scheme. The cap’s bill was as flat as new, and the size sticker still affixed to the top of that bill. His hair was completed hidden under that cap.
His baby face suggested someone no older than his late teens. Which meant the diamond studs in each ear were probably fake – though being that impossibly large screamed fake anyway. A gold crucifix hung across his neck over the front of his purple tee.
On his hand was a metal silver and gold link strap watch. A white face with black numerals.
Further up his left forearm? A large Brooklyn tattoo done in script. Bold, brash and obviously in homage to his hometown.
People talk about the Brooklyn attitude like they do about the Bronx attitude or in some cases, the Queens one. (Apologies to Staten Island and Manhattan) The more one lives in Brooklyn, the more you realize that perhaps there is such a thing. Starting from Tony Manero, to the Eighties rap renaissance and followed by the latter day Jay-Z shout-outs. There have been all along pop culture the personification of this Brooklyn attitude.
The kid was dressed much like a lot of his urban compatriots. First off, the shoes. Air Jordans. Not the late model ones, but the early model re-issue. Looked like Air Jordan III to the non-expert shoegazer. The white patent leather, the purple accents and finished with ultra clean white laces. A modern take on a street classic.
Super skin tight black skinny jeans. Worn not in a rocker or hipster manner, but more in the style of the street skaters of today. Just hang out at Tompkins Square Park if you need a closer look.
Over the jeans was a large black puffer vest. It was severely oversize. It’s shiny fabric reflecting the light off the subway train and highlighting the quilted design. The hood was detachable and the collar was in perpetual pop-up mode. Two side hand pockets on the front. Basic gear for this crowd.
But all this was put together with quite some thought. The tee under the puffer vest was this purple crewneck. Not royal but your basic purple. And on his head was a Colorado Rockies baseball cap. Why the Rockies? Purple. The interlocking CR logo was purple with a white outline – no doubt the cap was bought to complete the color scheme. The cap’s bill was as flat as new, and the size sticker still affixed to the top of that bill. His hair was completed hidden under that cap.
His baby face suggested someone no older than his late teens. Which meant the diamond studs in each ear were probably fake – though being that impossibly large screamed fake anyway. A gold crucifix hung across his neck over the front of his purple tee.
On his hand was a metal silver and gold link strap watch. A white face with black numerals.
Further up his left forearm? A large Brooklyn tattoo done in script. Bold, brash and obviously in homage to his hometown.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
State of Confusion
Woman 6/17/09
Variety is the spice of life. So, what happens when one has outfitted and accessorized with the idea of achieving variety?
At first glance, she already appeared to be out-of-sorts. Not in a hair-all-over manner but in a way that one instinctively knows after years of riding the subway – some people are just inexplicable.
She was wearing a denim jacket. Not an acid-wash retread but it was in a light indigo hue which was very, very 80’s. Still it was a standard denim jacket design, with the double patch pockets in front, silver buttons and rivets, and as her once-folded sleeves illustrated - working buttons on the cuffs. Still it was at least one or two sizes too large for her. The jacket shoulders drooped over her tiny frame. Not a tent or a poncho, but it wasn’t a flattering slim fit either.
Under that denim jacket was a simple white cotton tee. It was longer than the typical tee, and the tail of it reached down to her hips. It looked like there was graphic on the tee that resembled the writing on a typical doctor’s eye chart.
The pants were basic business work pants. Black with slim gray, brown and blue stripes running vertically. You could make out the black stockings she had on underneath. And on her feet were two inch heels with a square toe and a small bow on the front. There was a strap at the heel. The contrast of the beige colored shoes and the dark pants with black stocks only served to highlight the continuing enigma that was this woman’s style.
Her accessories only confused more. First, a black briefcase. Yes, a black hard-shell leather briefcase usually seen with die-hard fans of L.A. Law. Sure, this one was slim making it a non-Willy Loman issue, but still nowhere close to being an acceptable part of a respectable woman’s executive attire. The second? A medium green tote bag. The primary color was green but there was a sea of white, blue and yellow dots as well. The dots were positioned such that it reminded one of star constellations. The larger blue dots could have been planets and the smaller white and yellow dots possibly stars and moons. And not content with those two pieces, she was carrying yet another bag with her. This time a very basic run-of-the-mill white canvas tote. The kind LL Bean makes.
Does the woman’s style end with her clothing and accessories choices?
Her hair was short. But the mane was teased up in such a way that coupled with the obvious brown dye job with even lighter brown highlights, one could only say – Tina Turner. A slightly shorter version but unmistakably Tina.
Her makeup wasn’t spared either. The foundation, is understood. The lipstick in a subtle pink hue was even tasteful. Then came the blue eye shadow and the heavy black
mascara.
In her hand was a thick handheld PDA. I’m not even sure what brand, model or decade it came from. But there she was tapping away with that black stylus pen. Perhaps she was playing a game? She was staring at it rather intently.
On her neck was a small gold crucifix dangling from a thin gold chain.
Variety is the spice of life. So, what happens when one has outfitted and accessorized with the idea of achieving variety?
At first glance, she already appeared to be out-of-sorts. Not in a hair-all-over manner but in a way that one instinctively knows after years of riding the subway – some people are just inexplicable.
She was wearing a denim jacket. Not an acid-wash retread but it was in a light indigo hue which was very, very 80’s. Still it was a standard denim jacket design, with the double patch pockets in front, silver buttons and rivets, and as her once-folded sleeves illustrated - working buttons on the cuffs. Still it was at least one or two sizes too large for her. The jacket shoulders drooped over her tiny frame. Not a tent or a poncho, but it wasn’t a flattering slim fit either.
Under that denim jacket was a simple white cotton tee. It was longer than the typical tee, and the tail of it reached down to her hips. It looked like there was graphic on the tee that resembled the writing on a typical doctor’s eye chart.
The pants were basic business work pants. Black with slim gray, brown and blue stripes running vertically. You could make out the black stockings she had on underneath. And on her feet were two inch heels with a square toe and a small bow on the front. There was a strap at the heel. The contrast of the beige colored shoes and the dark pants with black stocks only served to highlight the continuing enigma that was this woman’s style.
Her accessories only confused more. First, a black briefcase. Yes, a black hard-shell leather briefcase usually seen with die-hard fans of L.A. Law. Sure, this one was slim making it a non-Willy Loman issue, but still nowhere close to being an acceptable part of a respectable woman’s executive attire. The second? A medium green tote bag. The primary color was green but there was a sea of white, blue and yellow dots as well. The dots were positioned such that it reminded one of star constellations. The larger blue dots could have been planets and the smaller white and yellow dots possibly stars and moons. And not content with those two pieces, she was carrying yet another bag with her. This time a very basic run-of-the-mill white canvas tote. The kind LL Bean makes.
Does the woman’s style end with her clothing and accessories choices?
Her hair was short. But the mane was teased up in such a way that coupled with the obvious brown dye job with even lighter brown highlights, one could only say – Tina Turner. A slightly shorter version but unmistakably Tina.
Her makeup wasn’t spared either. The foundation, is understood. The lipstick in a subtle pink hue was even tasteful. Then came the blue eye shadow and the heavy black
mascara.
In her hand was a thick handheld PDA. I’m not even sure what brand, model or decade it came from. But there she was tapping away with that black stylus pen. Perhaps she was playing a game? She was staring at it rather intently.
On her neck was a small gold crucifix dangling from a thin gold chain.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
John Hughes R.I.P.
I'm just naming my favorites here:
Pretty in Pink
The Breakfast Club
Weird Science
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Sixteen Candles
There's nothing I could add that hasn't been written about John Hughes over the past week. But I'll say this. Until John Hughes came along, no one made movies for teens. And certainly not movies about contemporary teenagers specifically for teenagers. I can only think of George Lucas's American Graffitti, Saturday Night Fever (1977) and of course, Rebel Without a Cause (1955) as two before John Hughes. But Lucas' movie was in 1973 and set in the 50's. So, really only Rebel and Fever. That's a long time before anyone realized that an entire generation existed without a voice in cinema.
There's no one who spent their teenage years in the 80's who could deny the influence of those movies. The Breakfast Club taught us that we're all the same insecure and frightened teenagers under all that bluster and bravado. Ferris Bueller was the smart kid who was cool because he was free of everyone's rules and opinions, and not a typical jock or caricature nerd. Andie making her own prom dress and Duckie in vintage in Pretty in Pink - that is fashion.
And though I hate to admit it, Andie kissing Blane in front of that 3 Series? Made me equate BMWs to girls forever.
Just look at the casting, Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Judd Nelson, Anthony Michael Hall, Jon Cryer - yeah they were really white and really surburban, but none of them with classic Hollywood-ready looks and all of them had something for each of us to relate to.
We all loved the movies.
And for a generation of moviegoers, one man was largely responsible for making us feel like we were all in it together and perhaps we were not so different after all. And with a little courage and a little luck, we could be who we really were and possibly even succeed in love and life.
Dear Mr. Vernon,
We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are.
You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions.
But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain,
and an athlete,
and a basket case,
a princess,
and a criminal.
Pretty in Pink
The Breakfast Club
Weird Science
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Sixteen Candles
There's nothing I could add that hasn't been written about John Hughes over the past week. But I'll say this. Until John Hughes came along, no one made movies for teens. And certainly not movies about contemporary teenagers specifically for teenagers. I can only think of George Lucas's American Graffitti, Saturday Night Fever (1977) and of course, Rebel Without a Cause (1955) as two before John Hughes. But Lucas' movie was in 1973 and set in the 50's. So, really only Rebel and Fever. That's a long time before anyone realized that an entire generation existed without a voice in cinema.
There's no one who spent their teenage years in the 80's who could deny the influence of those movies. The Breakfast Club taught us that we're all the same insecure and frightened teenagers under all that bluster and bravado. Ferris Bueller was the smart kid who was cool because he was free of everyone's rules and opinions, and not a typical jock or caricature nerd. Andie making her own prom dress and Duckie in vintage in Pretty in Pink - that is fashion.
And though I hate to admit it, Andie kissing Blane in front of that 3 Series? Made me equate BMWs to girls forever.
Just look at the casting, Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Judd Nelson, Anthony Michael Hall, Jon Cryer - yeah they were really white and really surburban, but none of them with classic Hollywood-ready looks and all of them had something for each of us to relate to.
We all loved the movies.
And for a generation of moviegoers, one man was largely responsible for making us feel like we were all in it together and perhaps we were not so different after all. And with a little courage and a little luck, we could be who we really were and possibly even succeed in love and life.
Dear Mr. Vernon,
We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong, but we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are.
You see us as you want to see us. In the simplest terms and the most convenient definitions.
But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain,
and an athlete,
and a basket case,
a princess,
and a criminal.
Does that answer your question?
Sincerely yours,
The Breakfast Club.
Lady In Red
Woman 7/21/09
What is it with men and redheads? Men are under the illusion that all redheads are attractive and desirable. Perhaps its because we’ve yet to see an unattractive redhead.
Her hair was slightly more orange than red. Burnt orange might be the more accurate term. And that hair was tied back into a ponytail. With her face devoid of make-up, she reminded me of Molly Ringwald in Fresh Horses. Then again, for men of a certain age, all redheads remind them of Molly Ringwald, just as older men view all redheads as descendants of Ann- Margret.
The curious case of this redhead is the amount of colors on her that matched her hair color. Her scarf was orange. A summer weight scarf with ruffles and tassels and tied in a double loop around her neck. It really made the orange of her hair all the more obvious. And on her feet were orange Wellingtons. They were from Hunter, and had the usual buckles on the outside of the boot, right near the top, which reached to just under her knees.
Was orange possibly also her favorite color?
She was wearing a large oversized grey cardigan. Long enough for one to tell that it reached to about her hips when she was standing up. Under that a faded blue deep v-neck cotton tee. Just about peeking out from under that tee was what seemed to be a collar of an identical v-neck tee in white.
Slung on her shoulders was a black tote bag that had a black umbrella sticking out from one of the corners. It was one of those cheap street vendor umbrellas.
On her lap was her iPhone with a pink silicone cover. And in her hand was a large coffee cup.
What is it with men and redheads? Men are under the illusion that all redheads are attractive and desirable. Perhaps its because we’ve yet to see an unattractive redhead.
Her hair was slightly more orange than red. Burnt orange might be the more accurate term. And that hair was tied back into a ponytail. With her face devoid of make-up, she reminded me of Molly Ringwald in Fresh Horses. Then again, for men of a certain age, all redheads remind them of Molly Ringwald, just as older men view all redheads as descendants of Ann- Margret.
The curious case of this redhead is the amount of colors on her that matched her hair color. Her scarf was orange. A summer weight scarf with ruffles and tassels and tied in a double loop around her neck. It really made the orange of her hair all the more obvious. And on her feet were orange Wellingtons. They were from Hunter, and had the usual buckles on the outside of the boot, right near the top, which reached to just under her knees.
Was orange possibly also her favorite color?
She was wearing a large oversized grey cardigan. Long enough for one to tell that it reached to about her hips when she was standing up. Under that a faded blue deep v-neck cotton tee. Just about peeking out from under that tee was what seemed to be a collar of an identical v-neck tee in white.
Slung on her shoulders was a black tote bag that had a black umbrella sticking out from one of the corners. It was one of those cheap street vendor umbrellas.
On her lap was her iPhone with a pink silicone cover. And in her hand was a large coffee cup.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Take Me Out to the Ball Game
Man 7/21/09
Full disclosure. I am a Chicago White Sox fan. Not because of President Obama, not because they won the World Series in 2005, not even because of the dungeon called Old Comiskey (R.I.P.) But really because of Frank Thomas, Jack McDowell and the greatest Okie State baseball player, Robin Ventura (sit down Pete Incaviglia fans).
It’s no wonder that a man wearing a Chicago White Sox jersey riding the subway in Brooklyn makes an appearance here. That distinct “Chicago” in black script lettering across the chest with sliver and white outline. The white socks on black logo on the sleeves.
What’s really the wonder here is that the man was also wearing a Boston Red Sox baseball cap. Yes, a Red Sox hat – navy blue hat with the distinctive “B” in its auld glory script.
What on Earth? WTF?
The rest of him was a fairly standard blue collar guy uniform. The basic light blue jeans. Loose fitting in a standard wash and there was a handkerchief dangling from his left pocket.. The white Nike sneakers with enough off-white to suggest a decent amount of wear. A digital watch in a stainless steel casing with a black rubber strap – probably a Timex or Casio.
The glasses on his face were a pedestrian rectangular style metal frame. A goatee on his face to highlight his masculinity while not wearing any jewelry of any sort. He was carrying a small black drawstring nylon bag.
One last thing, a lanyard with I (Heart) New York printed on.
Full disclosure. I am a Chicago White Sox fan. Not because of President Obama, not because they won the World Series in 2005, not even because of the dungeon called Old Comiskey (R.I.P.) But really because of Frank Thomas, Jack McDowell and the greatest Okie State baseball player, Robin Ventura (sit down Pete Incaviglia fans).
It’s no wonder that a man wearing a Chicago White Sox jersey riding the subway in Brooklyn makes an appearance here. That distinct “Chicago” in black script lettering across the chest with sliver and white outline. The white socks on black logo on the sleeves.
What’s really the wonder here is that the man was also wearing a Boston Red Sox baseball cap. Yes, a Red Sox hat – navy blue hat with the distinctive “B” in its auld glory script.
What on Earth? WTF?
The rest of him was a fairly standard blue collar guy uniform. The basic light blue jeans. Loose fitting in a standard wash and there was a handkerchief dangling from his left pocket.. The white Nike sneakers with enough off-white to suggest a decent amount of wear. A digital watch in a stainless steel casing with a black rubber strap – probably a Timex or Casio.
The glasses on his face were a pedestrian rectangular style metal frame. A goatee on his face to highlight his masculinity while not wearing any jewelry of any sort. He was carrying a small black drawstring nylon bag.
One last thing, a lanyard with I (Heart) New York printed on.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Cuts like a Knife
Man 7/16/09
What hurts isn’t when you see someone dressed in a wild inappropriate manner, or when they are showing too much skin, or when they just plain can’t match, or they are just too damn weird.
No, what hurts is when said subject dresses not quite up to snuff but you can tell that they are trying. They are really trying to be fashionable or presentable and it’s just not happening.
The man was really a kid. Probably right out if not still in college. His baby face gave his youth away. His clean-cut looks were aided by the close cropped hair and the lack of any facial hair.
For starter’s he was wearing black dress slacks that were double-pleated. Apologies to the sartorial gods for not intervening immediately, for the rules clearly state that if you are born past 1980 you are not allowed to wear pleated pants period. You are not allowed to wear pleated pants. Plus, his pants were not only cuffed but they ended at the top of his feet. Too short, two pleated.
On top of those pants? A pastel lime-green short sleeve button front shirt. And paired with that day-glo shirt was a bright yellow wide tie with an equally fat knot. No, he wasn’t dressed as if at a masquerade ball, he was dressed like he was on his way to a desk job or an interview.
The black loafers on his feet were polished and the dark dress socks were not going to be out of place in a standard Herman Miller cubicle. He was carrying a brown leather messenger bag on his right shoulder. It was a fairly worn light brown bag with the standard bronze hardware though his seemed to be crammed full – of what it wasn’t readily obvious.
To complete his look, gold rectangle rimmed glasses and the gold link watch on his left wrist, plus keys dangling from one of his belt loops.
What hurts isn’t when you see someone dressed in a wild inappropriate manner, or when they are showing too much skin, or when they just plain can’t match, or they are just too damn weird.
No, what hurts is when said subject dresses not quite up to snuff but you can tell that they are trying. They are really trying to be fashionable or presentable and it’s just not happening.
The man was really a kid. Probably right out if not still in college. His baby face gave his youth away. His clean-cut looks were aided by the close cropped hair and the lack of any facial hair.
For starter’s he was wearing black dress slacks that were double-pleated. Apologies to the sartorial gods for not intervening immediately, for the rules clearly state that if you are born past 1980 you are not allowed to wear pleated pants period. You are not allowed to wear pleated pants. Plus, his pants were not only cuffed but they ended at the top of his feet. Too short, two pleated.
On top of those pants? A pastel lime-green short sleeve button front shirt. And paired with that day-glo shirt was a bright yellow wide tie with an equally fat knot. No, he wasn’t dressed as if at a masquerade ball, he was dressed like he was on his way to a desk job or an interview.
The black loafers on his feet were polished and the dark dress socks were not going to be out of place in a standard Herman Miller cubicle. He was carrying a brown leather messenger bag on his right shoulder. It was a fairly worn light brown bag with the standard bronze hardware though his seemed to be crammed full – of what it wasn’t readily obvious.
To complete his look, gold rectangle rimmed glasses and the gold link watch on his left wrist, plus keys dangling from one of his belt loops.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Do the Right Thing
Woman 7/2/09
Sometimes the world sends you a signal that says, “Hey! You! Yeah, you! Pay attention for there is much that you don’t know and paths will cross.”
And it was this morning where that sign appeared though it was little more than a wink and a wry smile.
In case some have missed it, and most have. It was the 20th anniversary of the release of the seminal Spike Lee movie, “Do the Right Thing”. 20 years ago when Public Enemy seared through the ears of the wayward youth, Rosie Perez turned boys into men and Ghetto-blaster entered the nation’s vocabulary. So, this very morning, if this wasn’t a sign, then perhaps it was just coincidence.
Have you ever seen a tote bag that resembled the large Ghetto-blaster that Radio Raheem was carrying around the entire movie? This one was black and on the front was a print of a very large, loud and colorful stereo or Ghetto-blaster. It was an exact reproduction on canvas from the knobs and switches right down to the red, yellow and green colors on the equalizer. Of course this being 1989, there was no CD player, just one large mouth of a cassette tape, plus two large speakers that anchored each side. And funny enough, the side panels of this tote bag had AV input and outputs in the standard red and yellow.
So, what sort of person carries this tote bag?
She, yes a she. I’d say mid-thirties to early forties if I had to guess. Her hair was short, curly and purple. Yes, purple. But the dye job might have gone a little awry as the hair was black in the lower back portion of her head. Or perhaps she had only wanted a crown of purple and liked the black below her eyeline.
Black was the predominant color of choice for her. A black sleeveless tank top – cotton crewneck. A black knit skirt that ended at the knee with a slight flare. Not chunky but honestly looked homemade. And the shoes? Black. Black Converse Chuck Taylor lowcuts. No socks though, this was summer after all.
For all the juxtaposition of her old school radio tote bag. She was actually wearing these black wireless headphones. The oval panel connecting each ear bud was had a Motorola logo which was lit up in blue to signal the use of Bluetooth. And when she pulled out her iPod Touch, you could see the adaptor plugged into the player.
Sometimes the world sends you a signal that says, “Hey! You! Yeah, you! Pay attention for there is much that you don’t know and paths will cross.”
And it was this morning where that sign appeared though it was little more than a wink and a wry smile.
In case some have missed it, and most have. It was the 20th anniversary of the release of the seminal Spike Lee movie, “Do the Right Thing”. 20 years ago when Public Enemy seared through the ears of the wayward youth, Rosie Perez turned boys into men and Ghetto-blaster entered the nation’s vocabulary. So, this very morning, if this wasn’t a sign, then perhaps it was just coincidence.
Have you ever seen a tote bag that resembled the large Ghetto-blaster that Radio Raheem was carrying around the entire movie? This one was black and on the front was a print of a very large, loud and colorful stereo or Ghetto-blaster. It was an exact reproduction on canvas from the knobs and switches right down to the red, yellow and green colors on the equalizer. Of course this being 1989, there was no CD player, just one large mouth of a cassette tape, plus two large speakers that anchored each side. And funny enough, the side panels of this tote bag had AV input and outputs in the standard red and yellow.
So, what sort of person carries this tote bag?
She, yes a she. I’d say mid-thirties to early forties if I had to guess. Her hair was short, curly and purple. Yes, purple. But the dye job might have gone a little awry as the hair was black in the lower back portion of her head. Or perhaps she had only wanted a crown of purple and liked the black below her eyeline.
Black was the predominant color of choice for her. A black sleeveless tank top – cotton crewneck. A black knit skirt that ended at the knee with a slight flare. Not chunky but honestly looked homemade. And the shoes? Black. Black Converse Chuck Taylor lowcuts. No socks though, this was summer after all.
For all the juxtaposition of her old school radio tote bag. She was actually wearing these black wireless headphones. The oval panel connecting each ear bud was had a Motorola logo which was lit up in blue to signal the use of Bluetooth. And when she pulled out her iPod Touch, you could see the adaptor plugged into the player.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
I've Got You Under My Skin
Woman 6/29/09
Summer means skin. Well, it also means sheer. And what perplexes are the New Yorkers who insist on riding the subways wearing sheer outfits that barely conceal the swimwear they have on underneath. If you’re already showing plenty of skin, must you wear and outfit that reveals even as it covers?
You couldn’t help but notice. If sitting across from you is a woman whose pink bikini top is clearly visible underneath her barely there tee. Well, it’s not a skimpy tee. It’s actually a white tee that has a day-glo peace sign with paint drips to suggest an LSD mind melt of colors. This peace tee covers her well enough but it’s so worn it’s essentially sheer. So, while looking at the LSD Day-glo peace sign, one can’t help but also notice that you are staring right at her pink bikini top. Right through that peace sign.
There’s no doubt she’s preparing for a day at the beach or perhaps by a pool. Or being a New Yorker, it could just be a trip to the park to lay out. She was wearing sandals that had white straps across the front and back of the foot. One particular strap across the front of the foot had the word Camelot printed on. The sandals had a tan sole and footbed.
Her shorts were not of the bohemian kind one would expect. They were in fact quite tailored, with buttons on the side hems as well as a button on a rear pocket. The shorts were a white and purple plaid fabric – giving it a more sophisticated look. Still they were short and ended at her upper thigh.
With her was this large green tyvek tote bag. There was an equally large Steve Madden logo on the side printed in white.
She reminded me of the wispy girls one sees on America’s Next Top Model. Tall, skinny and pale. A noticeable mole above the left side of her upper lip. Her brunette hair was long but tied up into a ponytail that was then folded back over making it look like a short stump on the back of her head.
And since she was in the outdoor state of mind, her sunglasses were already on her face. They were a purple resin frame - in an oversize exaggerated retro-aviator style popularized by Tom Ford. Frankly, the Barney the Dinosaur purple made those glasses more fun and interesting.
Summer means skin. Well, it also means sheer. And what perplexes are the New Yorkers who insist on riding the subways wearing sheer outfits that barely conceal the swimwear they have on underneath. If you’re already showing plenty of skin, must you wear and outfit that reveals even as it covers?
You couldn’t help but notice. If sitting across from you is a woman whose pink bikini top is clearly visible underneath her barely there tee. Well, it’s not a skimpy tee. It’s actually a white tee that has a day-glo peace sign with paint drips to suggest an LSD mind melt of colors. This peace tee covers her well enough but it’s so worn it’s essentially sheer. So, while looking at the LSD Day-glo peace sign, one can’t help but also notice that you are staring right at her pink bikini top. Right through that peace sign.
There’s no doubt she’s preparing for a day at the beach or perhaps by a pool. Or being a New Yorker, it could just be a trip to the park to lay out. She was wearing sandals that had white straps across the front and back of the foot. One particular strap across the front of the foot had the word Camelot printed on. The sandals had a tan sole and footbed.
Her shorts were not of the bohemian kind one would expect. They were in fact quite tailored, with buttons on the side hems as well as a button on a rear pocket. The shorts were a white and purple plaid fabric – giving it a more sophisticated look. Still they were short and ended at her upper thigh.
With her was this large green tyvek tote bag. There was an equally large Steve Madden logo on the side printed in white.
She reminded me of the wispy girls one sees on America’s Next Top Model. Tall, skinny and pale. A noticeable mole above the left side of her upper lip. Her brunette hair was long but tied up into a ponytail that was then folded back over making it look like a short stump on the back of her head.
And since she was in the outdoor state of mind, her sunglasses were already on her face. They were a purple resin frame - in an oversize exaggerated retro-aviator style popularized by Tom Ford. Frankly, the Barney the Dinosaur purple made those glasses more fun and interesting.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
Stars and Stripes Forever
Woman 7/1/09
It’s a fairly common in NYC to spot genuine or faux genuine military clothing appropriated as fashionable attire. However this statement generally applies only to men, and it’s really rare to see a woman build her wardrobe around something from Army surplus.
Military field jacket. Or what may also be referred to as a Battle Dress Uniform (BDU) Coat. This was the standard issue BDU Coat made of sturdy cotton and in a green and black camouflage print. The large jacket was too large for her small frame and drooped over her shoulders. The stripes on each arm were Sergeant’s stripes, but with the extra stripes on the bottom, they were definitely of a First or Staff Sergeant rank. What I couldn’t (and still can’t) figure out is if the stripes were current or from a certain era in military history.
What I do know is that the star in the middle of the stripes indicated US Air Force. Of course, so did the patch on the left breast of the jacket. On the right side was the name patch – Benton. There were two other smaller patches, one under each name patch, but it was tough to make out the design from a distance.
So, how does a woman complement her BDU coat?
Well, underneath the jacket is a blue cotton crew neck tee. I’d say it was a Thomas the Tank Engine blue. She was also wearing a basic black knee-length skirt – a cotton poly blend by the looks of it.
She also had on knee length argyle socks. Brown and grey argyle which were just visible above the top of her Wellingtons. Well, Chooka rainboots to be exact. The same Wellingtons that I had described in my earlier post. She was the owner of those much admired shoes.
Her handbag was a medium sized, white canvas with a black tribal or ethnic print. But with these green-yellow bordered black racing stripes going around the bag from center front. The leather straps were black with gold hardware. And there was one front pocket with a zipper.
She was reading a hardcover copy of “Wish I Could Be There “ by Allen Shawn.
In one of the few instance when she looked up from her book, you could just make out the lip piercing. A silver stud centrally positioned under her lower lip.
It’s a fairly common in NYC to spot genuine or faux genuine military clothing appropriated as fashionable attire. However this statement generally applies only to men, and it’s really rare to see a woman build her wardrobe around something from Army surplus.
Military field jacket. Or what may also be referred to as a Battle Dress Uniform (BDU) Coat. This was the standard issue BDU Coat made of sturdy cotton and in a green and black camouflage print. The large jacket was too large for her small frame and drooped over her shoulders. The stripes on each arm were Sergeant’s stripes, but with the extra stripes on the bottom, they were definitely of a First or Staff Sergeant rank. What I couldn’t (and still can’t) figure out is if the stripes were current or from a certain era in military history.
What I do know is that the star in the middle of the stripes indicated US Air Force. Of course, so did the patch on the left breast of the jacket. On the right side was the name patch – Benton. There were two other smaller patches, one under each name patch, but it was tough to make out the design from a distance.
So, how does a woman complement her BDU coat?
Well, underneath the jacket is a blue cotton crew neck tee. I’d say it was a Thomas the Tank Engine blue. She was also wearing a basic black knee-length skirt – a cotton poly blend by the looks of it.
She also had on knee length argyle socks. Brown and grey argyle which were just visible above the top of her Wellingtons. Well, Chooka rainboots to be exact. The same Wellingtons that I had described in my earlier post. She was the owner of those much admired shoes.
Her handbag was a medium sized, white canvas with a black tribal or ethnic print. But with these green-yellow bordered black racing stripes going around the bag from center front. The leather straps were black with gold hardware. And there was one front pocket with a zipper.
She was reading a hardcover copy of “Wish I Could Be There “ by Allen Shawn.
In one of the few instance when she looked up from her book, you could just make out the lip piercing. A silver stud centrally positioned under her lower lip.
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