We need a little pretty cause this country is insane.

For semi-useless products of my musings, skip down to the bottom. For some pretty shit, begin here.


Better than Botticelli's Birth of Venus?

I have a huge girl-crush on Lady Gaga. Artists like her allow me to call pop-culture a pleasure, and by no means a guilty one. I have huge respect for creative people who dedicate a piece of every single day of their lives to constructing their vision and sharing it with the world. This bitch is brilliant, completely. Totally post-modern: she's self-described as "sexy-ugly", an undeniable whack job, and a perfect example of how completely wonderful this terrible world can be if you let it. I really cannot begin to comprehend how she manages to get her hair and makeup to look so surreal, nor can I express how jealous I am of her crazy-awesome style.

And if that's not enough for you, she taught herself to play piano at age four. Being 20 and personally unable to properly hit a pleasant combination of more than three notes, I find that pretttttyyyy incredible. Additionally, if you can wear hot pants and get away with it, then bless your pretty soul.

I cannot tell you how many times i have listened to this song in the last week. Click&love.

I recently re-fell in love with this. Stunning design, one of the best examples of successful packaging I have ever seen. (If you've seen my Sephora tab, you know pretty shit is my kryptonite. Ask me if I have any idea what this juice (if that's what it is?) even tastes like. The answer is no.) Designed by Naoto Fukasawa, found at Welcome to the Glory.

These are just pretty sweet. I suppose a small part of me has always longed to hear music spurting from a sculpted decapitated dog.

By Dutch designer Sander Mulder, same site as the above.

“And, now, I’m just trying to change the world one sequin at a time.” -Lady Gaga

♥ Lini

ps:

On to the random thoughts. This entire post had been inspired by quite an array of individuals... it's a strange company I keep...

Everything works in cycles, repetitions, and returns to the ends and starts. Some cycles are natural and necessary, while others are vicious. Personally, I find cheating to one of the more ruthless. Essentially' to cheat is to steal, to rob someone's trust, work, innocence, or efforts. It is to take away something earned from the blood, sweat, and tears of another, and in no way belongs to anyone but the owner and whomever they deem deserving. When you cheat you degrade the quality of what you're stealing. Whether it be someone's answers or someone's heart you toy with, you have broken something which cannot be repaired. You have robbed not only them, but yourself. You have throw away the oppurtunity to expand your mind, to learn, and to appreciate. You have tainted what you've taken.

I love free shit, everyone does. I have a field day whenever I win anything...but it doesn't compare to how I feel when I earn something myself. I can't say I am completely oppossed to the "Fuck, I forgot about math, can I see your homework?" situation, it happens. What I cannot tolerate is the deliberate and lazy philosophy that allows people to believe they are entitled to what is not theirs. There is a difference between products of inspiration and products of imitation. I have a fierce love for what I create, and it disgusts me to hear and see ideas copied and reproduced cheaply. It is unethical and shameful. You are not an intellectual, not a designer, not an artist if your creations are ripped from the hands of another. It breaks my heart to watch this happen over and over, to see someone genuinely put together their ideas only to have them spoiled by a pair of greedy eyes. Physcically, I have to wonder if people are meant to be faithful. I believe it is possible, but once the cycle begins, once you've become jaded from cheating...

Honesty is priceless.

"Why don't you try lying for a change? Lying's the currency of the world"...

Well, look at the economy now.

O BRASIL E PENTA ♥

God smiles upon soccer.

Someone once told me something about soccer. It's called "football" everywhere else in the world, but it's absolutely different then American football. The reason it's loved everywhere is how simple it is: you need two feet, a ball, and a field. Not yardlines, helmets, uprights. It's cheap, and dynamic, and beautiful to watch.

I take great pride in being Brazilian, in being the world's greatest. I love the sight of kids head-to-toe in dirt, kicking around a worn-out ball and laughing.

I love the smell of churrasco,

the boys all rocking that god-awful Ronaldo Fenomeno haircut in '06,

the streams of yellow and green completely covering every available surface,

the ridiculously sexual beer commercials featuring the most beautiful women in the world,

the "CLOSED TIL AFTER THE GAME" signs strung up along the streets,

and most of all I love the sound of "GOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL" ringing around the world.

Happy watching. 365 days until it is actually showtime.

Fashioning my own destiny.

Coincidence is a funny little bugger.

I never can really decide if I believe in it. Our lives seem to depend on factors entirely beyond our control, factors which could be labelled as coincidence: the day on which one's born, the nation one resides in...It amazes me to think how completely different things could be if any single one of the factors varied slightly. Had I been born two weeks sooner, I would be a grade ahead in school. I wouldn't have gone to American Heritage for high school, my life would be entirely unrecognizable. What if my mother hadn't married my father? What if she had stayed in Brazil? I wouldn't even exist, a whole new being would fill my place.

Tangent aside, this last week has been brimming with coincidence, for me at lease. Nothing too strange or pertinent, just enough to make me wonder if perhaps there's more to the pieces which coincidentally keep bumping heads lately.

I recently discovered an amazing jewelry designer by the name of Gabriella Kiss.

If you know me, I love my bling. I also am a little on the fickle side, and change my mind frequently as to what I covet, appreciate, and wear. This trait lends to me preferring to a handful of inexpensive pieces to rotate rather then a token piece or two. Rarely does a piece strike me enough to make me question this, but after seeing the works of Ms. Kiss, it seems my rusting cubic zirconias may have met their match.

The world has provided us with a series of elements from which we derive fuel, nurishment, and in the case of countless artists and designers, inspiration. The organic forms in Kiss' works are simplistic, elegent, and completely gorgeous. Kiss' training in sculpture at Pratt has served her well, her graceful pieces look flawless and completely lust-worthy. AND: She finds bones and snakes beautiful? A++ for her!

Prices and contact information.

This photo guality does this braclet a severe injustice.

Tonight is the season finale of Desperate Housewives, which coincendentally stars another Gabrielle. (ABC, 9:00 p.m.) So here's a tribute another her, Gabrielle Solis. May you always be a fabulous gold-digging bitch.

Eva Longoria Parker in Cannes. Sculptural fashion = ♥ .

Fate is nothing but the deeds committed in a prior state of existence.

- Ralph Waldo Emerson

Caroline ♥

Like so many Americans, she was trying to construct a life that made sense from things she found in gift shops.

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

"The Hollow Men" by T.S. Eliot

"So what about [...], how is he doing?"
"And have you heard from [...]? Is she still working at that what's-it-called?"

"When was the last time you spoke to [...]? I heard he's having some problems with keeping his grade up?"

I have to admit I tune these questions out everytime I hear them... partially because I really have absolutely no idea how to respond, and partially because it strikes a nerve to realize I have absolutely no idea what goes on in the lives of people who once mattered so much to me. In case you haven't noticed before, stop and look at the lines creased across your forehead and lips. Your youth is slipping away into the folds, wrinkled into your face for all to see. People spit out words like "stereotype" and "cliche", writhing away from their nuances like cups of spoiled milk. They exist, these stereotypes and these cliches, and reason they've achieved their immortality is because we all fall victim to their wrath. "Time flies". Been said countless times? Yep. Been true in each and every incident? Yep, again. I remember waiting for Christmas. I remember when an hour felt like eternity. Now it seems there is no wait, everything becomes a member of the past in a "blink of an eye". We wait for college, we wait to graduate, we wait for careers, we wait for love, and we wait to finally step out into the world and prove ourselves. We search for our identities, as if mapping out the reality of one's existance could ever even actually happen. No one becomes who they'd like to be, or who they are. We play make-believe until fantasy and nightmares become the truth. We all transform into what we swore we'd never be...Carbon copies of our parents. Liars. Lushes. Cheaters. Republicans. Feeling guilty yet?

When did I leave my childhood? If I could TiVo my life, could I find the exact moment when nothing I believed in remained? Did my innocence die along with Santa Claus, or with the first episode of Jerry Springer I watched when my parents turned their backs? Perhaps it left the day I purchased my first training bra, or the day boys stopped having cooties? When my childhood died, it took my imagination along, buried six feet under. Now, I artificially produce it. I find it in fabricated realities, manipulated visions, self-induced musings. We pay so much money to escape from the world we've molded with our own hands. We bottle and prescribe the cures to the diseases we invented ourselves. We label sins with titles meant to imply something, making human actions ugly, bad, and dirty simply because. We love being unhappy. We can't be happy anymore unless we acheive the satisfaction of suffering the most, feeling the most pain, and eating and sleeping the lease. We bleed to remind ourselves we exist, remind ourselves our hearts still pump and pump within our chests. We throw things away solely to mourn their loss. We fear admitting to practicing the horrible acts of actually caring, or actually trying. Everything is no big deal, everything is whatever. If nothing means anything, it doesn't hurt when it leaves...

...except ...maybe it actually hurts a little...so then maybe we can chemically remedy our pain a little more. So we can carry bigger, heavier crosses. And increasingly pity ourselves. And then, and only then, will we be really living. Because life comes in transparent orange bottles, and facebook statuses, and fourth meals, and dime bags. Life comes in crying until we laugh and then laughing until we cry. Is it possible that something or someone exists that can justify life, or at least this single moment in time?

I am guilty of all seven deadly sins. I am guilty of all I most severly condemn. I am guilty of believing life is still good, even if it never quite manages to be fair.

Can the world ever really end if it never really began?

I want to stay as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all kinds of things you can't see from the center.

New knowledge is the most valuable commodity on earth. The more truth we have to work with, the richer we become.

How nice--to feel nothing, and still get full credit for being alive.

-Kurt Vonnegut.

I'm in love with all my greatest fears. ^ sculpture by Damien Hirst, of course.

♥ Caroline

Are you fucking serious? This is FASHION.

One day, my fingers will tap at these keys until something interesting and pertinent results. This day has not yet arrived, and my lazy ass can only provide you with some random thoughts and visuals for the day.

1. I love Fashion so much I begin hate it. It's hypocritical, ugly, nasty, and rude. People in charge of it tend to be absolutely unreasonable heroin junkie bitches with god-awful taste. But alas, I still worship it. We may have our arguments. I may find myself surprised with Fashion's behavior, appalled something I believed was so genuine and so generous could be so fickle and so foul. I may swear I never want to see Fashion again, but next thing you know, I'm groping Fashion inappropriately in the fitting room, clawing at Fashion gasping for more. I can throw Fashion away, put my hands up and say "No, not today, thanks. We're over."...then I get home, and I type Fashion into an internet search engine, unable to resist seeing what Fashion has been up to. Damn you Fashion, damn you to hell for leading me on and allowing me to hope for us to finally be at peace with one another.

Being said, the Philadelphia University Annual Fashion Show is tomorrow! Tickets are still on sale at Kanbar tomorrow from 11 to 3, as are t-shirts. Academy of Music, 7 p.m. Definately a worthwhile show...at least from the right side of the stage (;

Also, check out StyleLine, PhilaU's own Fashion Lifestyle newsletter. And no, you won't be seeing it in the program at the show...because PhilaU funds are being used to offer students a wide array of customized socks available for purchase at the bookstore. Check back in a few days for the Spring 2009 issue.

Click. I take no responsibility for this.

2. The world contracts and expands... I find myself appalled at how small it can be, and how uncomprehendably large it is as well. Not much makes sense, and much less is fair. Who is justice? I'd like to shake her hand and ask her a question or two.

3. Milan. Milan. Milan, je t'aime.

4. Kid Cudi. iTunes this man, I feel some real potential. I'm digging some "Dat New New" right now.
Press play.

5. Katvan. Two photographers with a banging sense of humor and intuitive feel for composition.
When everything feels like the movies.

6. Pier Nicola D'Amico. This man went to Cooper Union. He's a spray-painting, skateboarding city boy. Enough said.
You bleed just to know you're alive.


7. Saverio Truglia. This man's photography is so beautiful I could cry. You know when you see someone's work and you think, Hey, I'd so do that, I wish I had thought of it but unfortunately some infinately more talented fucker beat me to it? That is this man. Bless his heartsoul.

I'd give up forever to touch you.

8. Hannes Kutzler. Sprechen eie Deutsches? I will for you Hannes.

The closest to heaven that I'll ever be.


Now that sufficient time has been wasted, I must depart. Fashion's calling.

♥ Caroline

Chaos is a friend of mine.

I found this photographer thanks to a mentor of mine who worked with him on a project (See: Portraits - 1:1 - #13: Thanks Miss Betty!)

A Florida native, Aaron Ansarov works mostly with Military Photojournalism. I find this pretty awesome because:

1. Every photojournalist I have ever met has been super fascinating (my favorites being those two ranbunctious gentlemen who bought me a 40 at that party. and had modest mouse shirts on, of course.)

2. Words + images = poetry upside down and sideways

3. Documenting history beautifully > documenting it carelessly.

If working for the Department of Defense isn't enough, he also just displayed his work at Art Basel. This is a pretty badass combo, especially since Art Basel happens to be one of the most inspiring and epically large art shows in the universe. Check out the (underneath Nature- Backyard Projectson the bottom left). All kinds of beautiful. Personally, Mother Nature is my favorite designer.

http://www.ansarov.com/


The following works are probably the most appropriate for my mood right now. Deconstructed, and just so painfully stunning. Bonus points: this woman is clearly my relative. Check her out: Valerie Hegarty.

Sweetest Sadnesss in Her Eyes




This is Turtle Burger and Mean Bunny. All I can really say is aside from displaying some banging photo manipulation skills, Turtle Burger is my BFF hXc. And if Turtle Burger is my biffle, Mean Bunny is definately the one and only true love of my life. Believe me, I was never a huge fan of this soulmate/in love business, but Mean Bunny showed me a world I had only dreamed of.

Lovezzzzz.


I have seen all, I have heard all, I have forgotten all. -M. Antoinette

♥ Carolinee

This isn't coincidence, there's [no] such thing.

After coincidentally stumbling upon the WANT Exhibit at University of Washington, I found myself quite intrigued. I looked up their design programs and found some interesting projects and photos.

I love Industrial Design [being second of course to the ultimate design which is clearly Fashion (: ]. I really think many aspects of mankind can be tracked through distinct groups or elements, and I think progress throughout the history of the world as a whole can be tracked through Industrial Design. The wheel - the chariot- the bicycle - this laptop I'm on...you get the gist. Everything you see around you was once designed and the things we use daily to make our lives a little easier [or more difficult depending on your chosen technology] are results of the constant progress in design. Isn't that the ultimate goal or design; the marriage of form and function? I find really great ID to possess both these qualities in great amounts.

The WANT exhibit is a fake retail experience where everything you would typically see in a store is replaced by fake products to trigger your brain to think...Do I need this, or do I just WANT it? I think it's pretty modern and super clean and sharp aesthetically. The layout of the exhibit, the font placement, and the silhouettes were all carefully designed (by super awesome Graphic Designers) An Environmental Design class created this project, and I am quite glad they did.


Some more projects from University of Washington:

Photo by Zach Bent


So cutesicles (: Sol Hasmei


Really organic print by Kami Ganges



Samsung cell phone design and Siemens toaster by Magnus Feil



PS: Fashion dictates society, what is acceptable, who wears what, what should be worn where, why we wear what we wear...etc. In case you were wondering (:



There is nothing new except what has been forgotten. Marie Antoinette

♥ Caroline