Love Buzz

Somewhere in Wakefield, West Yorkshire there's a nice collabo going on.
I'd like to see neon lyrics on my commute home too.

http://12monthsofneonlove.blog.com/about-2/

Cindy

So good

Plus it reminds me of when we used to go to Koo's Cafe and PCH Club.

Dilapidated venues that could hardly be called such, but we didn't care...PFR.

Let's eat

Part of something I did at work that spells out something far more pedantic.

Happy Friday

Alex Olson / Dylan Rieder

Happy Monday

This is the dog I want. Only... it's a wolf. Oh well.

Candy salads

THIS is how every IM should end.

I'm going to get diabetes

Emma

Andrea S.

Brain Blow Wednesdays

Source Unknown

Partnerganger

I love Ali and Bratty Mcgee

Caribou // Niobe

I fall so far
I fall so far

And every moment everything we used to share
Will she be waiting when I call, will she be there?

And every moment every thought that passes by
Only reminds me of the heart it must have tried

Niobe, niobe

I fall so far
I fall so far

I fall so far
I fall so far

Niobe, niobe
Niobe, niobe

Weiner dog

Here is me with a dog.

 Again!

I used to be crazy about dogs when I was a kid. The 'D' encyclopedia was always missing because it was under my bed. I memorized all the breeds and characteristics of each dog. And then in 7th grade I got my wish of getting a dog...a Siberian Husky. It was probably the best 6 months of my teenage life  until my parents made me give him back which took a long time to get over. We also tried again when I was in hs, with a beagle. And she ran away after a year.

Then a decade later I got a cat and fell in love with it. And forgot all about dogs and even decided I hated dogs.

But? Maybe one day I'll try again with a dog and keep it for life this time and I'll feel differently.

maybe, no way

Owned by Gary again

Happy Thursday

Source unknown unfortunately.

Restrained hostility. Ever feel like telling someone to F off without ever opening your mouth?

Carlos D

This photo made my day.

Who in rock needs a re-style?
"Limp Bizkit. My advice would be to stop looking like a homophobic, misogynist date-rapist jock from Michigan." --c.d

*source

Maurene

Cindy

Copenhagen, Denmark

COPENHAGEN! Unlike Sweden, Denmark seemed a little edgier and less...IKEA. The Danes were a little more radical in thought. The Swedes were about home and hearth and being cozy and making your home really Merimekko and inviting for tons of fika and quality bonding time... the Danish just want to fng DESIGN! and ride their bikes fast! throughout town. (with to-go cups!)

Mood board: snowflake, space shuttle, glacier, killer whale, icicle, monolith.

One of the highlights of Denmark started with our hotel, the Bella Sky. We were retardedly lost en route to finding our hotel but once we saw it looming ominously against the sky like some spaceship, all angst was erased immediately. I despise the word epic but that's what it was.

Once inside we kind of couldn't believe our luck at booking the equivalent of what Art Center would look like if it branded a hotel–in the future. But for the Danes the Future is Now! Rad!

It was pristine, precious, and pretentious in all the right ways. Nothing was arbitrary, you could tell every choice made was probably considered half a dozen times before even making it to Round 1. From the light fixtures to the impeccable furniture to the signage to the weird and unexpected color choices throughout all the way down to the tiniest thing like the shape of the lights for the elevators (diamonds!). Everything made us freak out. It was truly a brain blow experience to be able to stay at a place that was super into design. Which leads to the next point...

Inside HAY! The most incredible store we've ever seen.

Copenhagen ended up being an industrial designer's dream come true. There was a paragraph in Cindy's book that explained Denmark as a nation "obsessed with design", and it was clear from the moment we landed at the Copenhagen Airport.

There's a lot of whimsy in their aesthetics. Their use of color especially interested me because more often than not it was really playful and sort of quirky and random.

Also everything we ever knew about the term Danish Modern was blown out the window. 'Mid-century modern' is really trendy in Silverlake...but the Danes have moved the hell on from that shit and iconic pieces from that era were found only at the Dansk Design Center which showcased historical pieces of importance.

I guess the best way to describe what I mean is...everything in Copenhagen looked 'mid-century modern' but it wasn't. It was all new, and the only reason it was reminiscent of that style was because... well that IS the Danish style period. The standards for good design* was so high there that their most base design would be considered stellar design here.

Everywhere we went, there were well designed chairs. It got gratuitous after a while.

*Kind of like how no matter what, New York cannot do Mexican food, even the absolute worst Mexican food joint in LA would be considered the best! if eaten in NY, because their shit is that sub par. I believe I heard the words "What is a quesedilla?" uttered in a movie theater in NY once. I think I snapped my neck from turning so fast to see who the fuck didn't know what a quesedilla was.

Anyway, the next topic.. something both coasts have...

The bike lanes were something to be envied.

I'd been told that the Danes were big on bikes but you had to see it to believe it. I'd never seen that many bikes in my life, it was almost ridiculous how many bikes there were.  (The photo doesn't do justice...it was chosen only for aesthetic value but imagine that scene copied and pasted 50 times.) Bikes were more than a beloved hobby, it was a major means of transportation. Everyone rode their bikes, businessmen in suits, hot dads with babies, fashionable girls, children, elderly, cats etc. I guess what I'm trying to say is, bikes weren't just for the tatooed fixie riding ' Bicycle Rights!' agro bike messenger, or 'I'm going to get really drunk tonight so I'll take my bike to Cabo Cantina' resident of Venice Beach...It was for everyone.

Here's the most shocking fact: The majority of these bikes didn't have a lock. okay. *edit in 2017, they DO have locks, hidden in the back wheel portion of the bicycle, so that the wheels lock. They're so inconspicious that I didn't notice them back then. Still, you can just pick up a bike and go off with it here in LA, so it's still pretty awesome that a mere wheel lock counts as a lock there.

That's saying a lot about the city as a whole. It means people are honest. A theory proved when Cindy dropped her nice leather jacket on the ground at one point and after backtracking about ten minutes we found it placed on a nearby fence out of harm's way from the bike lane. Drop a jacket like that in Spain and it's definitely an adios.

Cindy and I rode bikes for an hour one morning and as I attempted to ride single handed, I careened into a field of wildflowers and s-l-owly fell over. Which enabled Cindy to take a snapshot. Betch!

Tall boys and bikes. Just sayin. (And if you look closely, Mariash--a Frenchie!)

Stockholm, Sweden

My trip to Stockholm and Copenhagen was awesome. It was everything I'd anticipated and more :) I came home really inspired in many ways, it's so important to step out of your daily routine to see how much bigger the world really is, and I take comfort in knowing that there are parallel universes by way of different cities all around us even though we can't see it. Right now in Stockholm someone is riding their bike with a salmon pink ACNE bag dangling from their handles, and somewhere in Copenhagen, someone is taking the train headed to Malmö.

Creepin'

Anyway, the next series of posts will be about my observations of the two cities.

As anticipated, the majority of Swedes were unapologetically tall. Swedish dudes are anywhere between 6'1–6'5....what what? This may not seem like a big deal to anyone else but for me it was huge because everyone here is so damn short, and it was nice looking up for once. The next statement is no exaggeration by any means, 75% of all guys were Ridiculously Good Looking. However, everyone being so hot backfired because no one really stood out in any way. Imagine a J.Crew catalogue come to life. After a while you are so spoiled with eye candy that you don't bat an eye when the model-y barrista chats you up.

Park in Södermalm

Hot Dads. The streets were scattered with stylish young men breezily carrying a baby in the crook of one arm or pushing a stoller–sans Mom. In fact we saw more Dads with children than Moms with children. The most bizarre part was how effortlessly they incorporated their kid into their daily life, as if the child in his left arm was merely a soccer ball or a jacket. This may have a lot to do with this strange phenomenon.

These dads were no amateurs, they were seriously involved and devoted. I think one of the funniest moments of our trip had to do with a metro ride...Cindy and I watched a young family board the train and settle near us. The toddler, sitting alone on the left side of the train, holding an unwieldy drippy ice cream bar that we both later agreed, was placing a lot of trust to such a baby. Cut to the ice cream bar inevitably making a face plant on the ground. What happened next is the stuff myths are made of–out of nowhere the dad lurches towards this scene presumably to shove his kid away from the now dirtyy, dirtyyyy ice cream bar. But instead, picks it up, pauses for a split second and then...furiously LICKS the side that had hit the ground about 3-4 times, and then places it BACK into his kid's hands. The mom then passes a napkin to the dad to wipe his hands, and whew! crisis averted! Little Björn has his ice cream back and life goes on. In the meantime Cindy's face has frozen into a popsicle and we're silently screaming W-T-F?!??! all the way to our stop.

We debated for 10 minutes whether that was the Stupidest Thing we'd ever witnessed or the Best Thing we had ever witnessed. *verdict: Best Thing albeit Disgusting.

This woman floated by, cig in one hand, tech in the other.

Sitting at a sidewalk cafe, people watching was a highlight because Stockholm is very fashionable. I'd have to say that the style was predominently classic border-lining on prep. Nothing crazy trendy like those over at Hel Looks...just clean lines, quality material and nice cuts. It was an honor to be amidst people wearing real shoes (ie. no flip flops, Uggs, Crocs, trainers, ergonomic comfy bullshit, etc) and fitted pants with an actual waistband that doesn't involve elastics or a drawsting of any kind. No Juicy Couture tracksuits, sloppy beach dresses, REI/NorthFace, baseball caps or college sweatshirts, and most importantly cargo shorts/pants. I swear that is some sort of dude uniform here.

Everyone just looked like they gave a damn. What's wrong with caring? I'm so over "comfortable". That is the fast track to getting fat, my friend. (Which, incidently there were none of in the city)

Cardamom rolls and cappuccino break with Cindy

Cindy and I tried to indulge in as many fikas as possible. Sweden is apparently only #2 in the amount of coffee consuption world-wide (Finland being #1... could this all be because of their dreary fng eternal winters?) I am surprised nonetheless. To enjoy fika is to really take a little break from your day and enjoy the moment with a friend. But after sitting around at a more than a few cafes with porcelain cups of lattes artfully poured, and picking at delicious pastries I have to admit I'd had enough. The American in me (wtf) was anxious for to-go cups of no nonsense hot coffee that I could drink whilst multi-tasking and impatiently dashing to my next destination.

Me: Ugh, I need coffee.
Cindy: Want to stop by that cafe?
Me: Uggg! I don't have time for this shit!!

Cut to me reluctantly sitting down to take a break, and wolfing down a croissant, downing my tiny americano in one gulp. "Done. Let's go!" Still disatisfied though, where is that to-go cup?! :)
That ceramic cup was seriously my ball and chain around my ankle

No really, I've always had romanticized ideas of the Scandinavian fika and I wasn't dissapointed. Come over for fika one day, maybe I'll finally make use of that fancy espresso machine I rarely use. (Because let's face it, I give Starbucks all my money, and spill it all over my dashboard while driving... and texting).

My sentiments exactly

...aaand we're back.

Sharks and Sailors

So this is really sad. I just was informed that Jason Noble of Rodan and Shipping News has died. Considering the fact that I hold Rodan extremely close to my heart, this is pretty disturbing news. First Trish Keenan and now Jason Noble. Both really special...dying too soon due to health reasons. I hate it.

I never got to see Rodan before they disbanded but I was able to catch Shipping News when I was a dweeb living in NY. And I had no friends yet and I went to the show alone but it didn't matter cause they were great.

R.I.P J.N
I don't know you but I must have listened to Rusty more than 10,000 times since '99, you've made a huge impact in my life and it really does feel like the end of an era for some reason :( 

LAMBO

Say hi to the Reventón.

Summer school

Opening Ceremony

I'm not ultra into sports, but I like the Olympics. Something to do with watching creme de la creme athletes doing incredible things and seeing visual representatives of every country. It's all very cool and international.

Another thing I love about the Olympics is all the proprietary design and branding that comes along with it; basically it's a designer's dream project. My favorite are the pictograms because it's really hard to come up with a system of icons that not only look stylish, but are highly functional. They have to communicate in one glance with absolutely no math involved.

The best thing about Olympics identity design is that it capture the time of the era and a bit of the country hosting it, which leads to my two favorites. Lance Wyman's identity for Mexico 1968 for being so op-art and mod. And despite the sadness surrounding the following one; Otl Aichner's Munich 1972 identity for being so modernist.


It's not surprising that these are stellar because graphic design was at an all time high during that era. It was also the time before gradients, arbitary moves and over-stylization came in to F everything up. If you don't believe me, google all the travesties that followed; Barcelona, Atlanta, Sydney, Beijing... I'm still undecided about London 2012. I'll keep you posted.

Happy Friday

I stare at these with glassy eyed and feel a mix of mild outrage and incredible jealousy. Because I don't know how to make these and I can't deny how perfect they are. w-t-f. Is food allowed to even be this beautiful, and still be edible?

ACNE

Hello ACNE, I love all of you.

Town of Cats

I finished reading Murakami's latest brick of a novel, 1Q84 not so long ago. It's a story about love, isolation and most importantly--portals into alternate realities, a topic that I've always been equally intriqued and creeped out by.

My favorite Twilight Zone episode is the one where a little girl accidently falls through an invisible portal in her bedroom wall and is lost in infinite space with only her cries echoing sporadically throughout the house like a ghost, driving the parents mad.

The main characters in 1Q84 realize they've somehow transitioned out of their own worlds into another when they notice that the sky now depicts two moons. The parallel universe (1Q84) isn't all that different from the real world--at first. I think the parallel world being 'off' in barely perceptible ways, make it more sinister because it's disorienting, like when you don't know whether you're in a dream or not.

One of my favorite elements in the book is actually a short story embedded within the novel. It's understatedly creepy, I couldn't shake the eeriness for weeks, I keep thinking about the town of cats.

The Anatomy of Heartbreak

Jesse Bering writes one of the most profound few paragraphs I've read in a long time. I love pithy one-liners. The second paragraph is particularly sad.

 “During the ‘protest’ stage that occurs in the immediate aftermath of rejection, ‘abandoned lovers are generally dedicated to winning their sweetheart back. They obsessively dissect the relationship, trying to establish what went wrong; and they doggedly strategize about how to rekindle the romance. Disappointed lovers often make dramatic, humiliating, or even dangerous entrances into a beloved’s home or place of work, then storm out, only to return and plead anew.

At the neurobiological level, the protest stage is characterized by unusually heightened, even frantic activity of dopamine and norepinephrine receptors in the brain, which has the effect of pronounced alertness similar to what is found in young animals abandoned by their mothers.

This impassioned protest stage — if it proves unsuccessful in reestablishing the romantic relationship — slowly disintegrates into the second stage of heartbreak, what Fisher refers to as ‘resignation/despair,’ in which the rejected party gives up all hope of ever getting back together. ‘Drugged by sorrow,’ writes Fisher, ‘most cry, lie in bed, stare into space, drink too much, or hole up and watch TV.’ At the level of the brain, overtaxed dopamine-making cells begin sputtering out, causing lethargy and depression. And in the saddest cases, this depression is linked to heart attacks or strokes, so people can, quite literally, die of a broken heart.”


‘Drugged by sorrow,’ writes Fisher, ‘most cry, lie in bed, stare into space, drink too much, or hole up and watch TV.’


l-o-l? it's true. dopamine is no joke.

Happy Friday

Joanne. I'm talking to you.

Richie

My favorite Tenenbaum.

Tiny collabo with Joanne. Her hand lettering skills* remain legendary to me. As well as her drawings, which make me nostalgic for the days we made zines because we were so 'punk fucking rock'. "You only wish" you could have a nerdy mug about this.

*that is not a font my friends, but an inherent skill of an idiot savant. Insanely jealous.

10 year time lapse

I have to renew my passport for my upcoming Stockholm and Copenhagen trip.
Ten years later I still have a fat face.

Elizabeth Peyton