Archives for category: Fashion

2012 12 28 10 26 08

The weirdest smile of the season.

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Eri met us up. Spotted Johan Renck in the Acnes store nearby too, which was funny, as I spotted him in LA last time in the US.

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Sweeties.

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“GIVE ME THE CAMERA, GIVE ME THE CAMERA!!!”

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Moe’s. Supposed to be the finer choice in fast food Mexican, which it definitly was, but I still prefered that old Tacobell.

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One for the road. Only had/have something this properly greased up once in a blue moon. Behind it: a blue moon.

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Very defined cloud, with a very defined shadow, just outside the airplanewindow.
Becky on the other hand saw none of this. She was knocked out by prescription drugs for the whole duration of the flight. And then some.

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Tattoo

This is my design of theĀ previously mentioned tattoo. I call it “The Gang” for now.

To get the oil painting kind of feel I have to turn to my absolut favorite inkist, Amanda Wachob. But she is booked years in advance. Have to turn to a Japanese lady instead.

The Gang is made up of animals that each have more or less significance to my life. For instance one of the birds are the kind that congregated on my dads balcony (and now a ceramic mold of it adorn his grave). The actual meaning, the transformation that tattoos are to represent, isn’t in the motif but is the tattoo itself. There is also a third point in getting this tattoo. I’ll share that one later.

Azalea

Sub

I used to watch (eh eh) in befuddlement the enthusiast as they went of about movement and about heritage.

Even the costliest of watches still had that +5/-5 seconds per day loss or gain. With an iphone in my pocket, besides my ping-pong equipment, I were always amused: the phone never needs adjustment (and if it did it did so by itself).

So I snickered. I wrote them off as crazy; that’s what I do.

Until I got my first (ahem) quality piece.

Listening closely it seems to have a life of its own. Hundreds or so tiny parts moving, turning, springing, day in and day out. A tiny piece of living machinery resting on my arm, living its life there.

It is, put short, pretty great.

I still point and snicker at people though.

Just bought myself a pair of man boots.

Haven’t tried them on, I actually haven’t even seen them apart from that one picture below, but they just looked TOO damn nice. They are dressy but also have a certain Scarabinic tint.

At checkout I panicked, if by buying “fashion” based on a highly stylized pic I’d be sinking deeper into the swamp that is brand- and metro sexuality. The style was impeccable but my approach was, perhaps, wrong.

However the shop, being as professional as their carried classy brands, had anticipated mine and just about any consumers possible doubt. Written in a little detail box next to the boot were a brief, calming and comforting description:

“There is nothing wrong with a well-dressed man who loves his Prada shoes”.

Prada glasses

“The better you look, the more you see”

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