parisian autumn


A shoot in Montmartre in Paris, France.


There’s this corner of Marie Antoinette’s estate in Versailles that contains a preserved little hamlet of amazing thatched-roof homes and a fully working/active farm. It’s very easy to miss it if you visit simply for palaces and water features, but I’d recommend a stroll through the English-style gardens and getting up close to the livestock. This guy, while it’s tough to see here, was sitting in the one patch of mud in the pasture, and was considerably more heavy-set than the other guy on the right.


The current Terry Richardson exhibition, “Mom & Dad,” coinciding with the release of his newest book, currently on display in the Colette store in Paris. I snapped a few shots before being reprimanded by the staff. The book (and related exhibition) utilize a lot of older, already-published shots (having already been included in “Terryworld,” etc), but regardless, it was a pleasant surprise to see his work and merchandise showcased inside of Colette.

So, regarding the pilgrimage to the expensive French boutique, I first heard of Colette while working as a web designer for Macy’s in their Times Square office in 2005. One of the art directors (Yujin) brought back the double-disc “Colette No.7” to the art director I worked under, Hat, and he shared it with me, as we were always passing music back and forth. It was such a well-curated and ear-opening mix that I kept trying to get my hands on any other mixes they had compiled, but kept failing to locate any for purchase, assuming I’d just have to visit one day. In subsequent years, I kept hearing about the store collaborating with interesting artists and growing in profile. When Jenn and I did arrive at Colette finally the other week, it exceeded my expectations. I’m not one to generally be excited about retail environments or shopping in general, but the in-store music was on-point (energetic and only instrumental/electronic, and not like much I had heard before), and the product offerings range from design, fashion, and culture books and limited edition items all the way to very high-end couture (Jenn was eying a dress that was in the ballpark of 4300 euro). And of course, to top it off, Terry Richardson’s likeness and photos were all over the place as well, plus a good percentage of the clientele were there to see and be seen. All in all, unlike any shopping I’ve seen in New York or elsewhere.


A model, after the Chloe show in the Jardin des Tuileries, during Paris Fashion Week.


Inexpensive Parisian rent on the Saint Martin canal.


Sidewalks in Paris are not unlike sidewalks I’ve seen in Buenos Aires, Argentina. All sorts of treats to step on.


Versailles, France. Something happened a day after we arrived in Paris: a switch was flipped and it became Fall in Europe.


The Musée des Égouts in Paris, or the Sewer Museum, has quite a “ripe” smell as you traverse through live sewers. Not recommended for the queasy.

We’re now back, State-side, after a good, exhausting adventure.

i can’t go out and i can’t stay in


My good friend Mike Mararian had another solo show opening Friday night, at a gallery in Williamsburg, Brooklyn.  Great turnout.  Katie Scott (left) and Alicia (right) are seen here.


I borrowed Mike’s hat briefly.  And that’s the man himself on the right (and I believe that’s Dan in the background).


Jenn pays tribute to the legendary Allan Lee.


If every city has its own official liquid, you don’t want to know what New York City’s is.

• Scavenging has been a fun and often-productive activity for me for as long as I can remember.  Perhaps it could be linked to my Southern roots, where you drive around town, and anything out on the curb is fair game to add to your own packrat collection (I think several of you guys have ridden shotgun with me, years back).  That moved onto the justification of removing of remote, government-owned objects sometimes, and certainly anything in an abandoned area was available for the taking.  Never did this feel too much like direct stealing.

I haven’t fully considered aquiring food the freegan way, but scavenging lately has been on my mind in the context of bicycles here in New York.  I’m referring to abandoned (but locked), rotting bicycle frames that you probably see a handful of every day you commute.  It’s been an internal battle for me: surely bad karma will hunt me down, should I decide that I could use an old threaded stem attached to a decaying corpse of a bike.  So, I’ve never touched a locked but abandoned bike.

Let’s take the red Shogun road bicycle currently attached to the fence of the dog park on 7th Avenue and 17th Street in South Slope.  It showed up a month or two ago, in pristine condition, connected to the iron fence via a standard-size U-lock around it’s top tube.  After it remained unmoved, untouched, un-checked-on for the first solid week, the front wheel walked away.  Then, in a matter of days, the rear wheel was gone, perhaps at the same time that the handlebars were pryed from the bike’s stem.  The pedals, seatpost, and saddle were the next to vanish.  I guess it may be similar to the way flies and beetles naturally break down dead animals on the street to aid in the decomposition cycle.  The frame (often the only thing actually locked in these cases) is permanently left, the same way that the insects will consume the skin, tissue, muscle, and body fat of carcasses, yet will leave the bones to eventually become brittle and succumb to long-term weathering.

But the question is still there: is there a threshold for the exact moment when a discarded bicycle is legitimate, honest “fair game” to potential scavengers?  Obviously if your bike is locked for more than about ten seconds in the Union Square area, it’s considered fair game by the scourges of society (the number of stolen bike posts involving Union Square on Craigslist is scary).

• On the subject, this evening I found some steel drop bars and two bike tires in a large pile of trash on my street.  It’s business as usual around here.

• Sadly, two of my old staples in Manhattan are looking pretty rough: both Lounge (ideal for its inspirational, curated fashion), and National Wholesale Liquidators (ideal for achieving middle-america prices on household junk) are getting priced out of their SoHo and NoHo spots, respectively.  Both stores are heavily marked down and tearing down excess aisles daily, and may be gone completely by early January, at this rate.

• Last Wednesday I caught a performance of Pina Bausch’s Bamboo Blues at BAM.  While it seemed good, I’m not positive I’ve yet aquired a taste for contemporary dance.


Recently at the Broadway-Layfayette stop in Manhattan, there’s been a resurfacing of the top-notch Belvedere Vodka ads, but in print.  This self-portrait of Terry Richardson is on a poster about six feet tall.


Macri Park near Metropolitan and Union in Williamsburg.  Pretty laid-back atmosphere, but cozy.


The Gowanus Canal has high tide and low tide.  During low tide, you can find all your lost stuff.  The smell of this highly polluted waterway can be a little foul though.

dyno with the black mags


A few months ago Taschen decided to re-release some books as a celebration of their anniversary of something or other.  Having been priced out of owning a first edition, I was able to snag this reprint of Terryworld from Spoonbill and Sugartown for super cheap ($20!).  Very great staff and selection over there, and of course, big ups to T-Bone.


I had never heard of this complex “brining” process.


So Jenn and I hosted a few friends for a hearty Thanksgiving at our South Slope headquarters.  I’ll give you a rundown of the food, counterclockwise from left: 11.5 lb turkey (prepared by Jenn and I), vegan sweet potato casserole (prepared by Big Joseph), more turkey, fresh veggies with hummus and homemade pesto dip (prepared by Sarah), rolls (purchased by Big Joseph and James), regular mashed potatoes (prepared by the group), vegan mashed potatoes (prepared by the group), two kinds of canned cranberries, gravy (prepared by Jenn), and boiled spinach with garlic (prepared by Jenn).  Not pictured: pumpkin pie cookies (prepared by Sarah), cider and rum (prepared by Jenn and I).


Jenn (right) and I (left) like to ride that bike path near Bay Ridge, Brooklyn.


Sometimes you can’t go for a ride without seeing tons of dead rats.

• It this moment of cycling in the fall/early winter, 50 degrees seems super warm, 40 seems normal, and below 40 requires gloves.  In another month or so, the thresholds may have to be adjusted down.

• So I was initially very disappointed when that bar, Safe Haven, opened up in the old Barbeque spot here in South Slope. However, upon going in there a few more times recently, Jenn and I determined that it may be just the local spot that everyone needs afterall.  The owner Patrick and his business partner, Noel, seem to be doing everything right so far: having a small and excellent (plus affordable) food menu, stocking solid standards on tap and some obscure bottled malt liquor options, handing out free shots to the locals, getting our input on their in-progress photo montage installations, remembering our (and others’) names, and planning for a live music stage area.  By all means support this local business.  A good (but not over the top) rock and roll vibe in there, located on 6th Ave and 20th street.

• Last week, Jenn and I met up with Jesse & Jessee to utilize some free tickets to a Cirque Mechanics show on Broadway, then over to a late dinner at Café Maison (a decent French place in a permanent tent structure near Times Square).  While the show was geared toward a young audience, the acrobatics were still engaging enough for all to enjoy (especially a massive trampoline and tall rope tricks, to name a few).

• Last night, my office rented out Southpaw (that music venue on 5th Ave in Park Slope that used to have slightly better booking) for their annual holiday party.  In open bar settings, as long as you can stay slightly more composed than a handful of other coworkers, you’re in the clear.  Even sipping on gin and tonic number eight.  Speaking of my office, I’ve been running into Ethan Hawke a lot in the elevator and in the hallways, and the man does not seem to age.


The Verrazano Bridge to Staten Island.


“100% Weight Lost or Gain.”