February 2008 Archives

I have a confession to make, something that's been churning inside me for a long time, waiting to be let out. There is a truth that needs to be told and that truth is this: I kind of really, really love Céline Dion.

One sleepless night years ago I watched Oprah's behind-the-scene special of her Vegas show right before it opened and I realized that, as Rich of FourFour put it recently after watching her DVD special, she is "a fucking spaz. There's almost a druggy effect due to her aforementioned goody-goody rep: watching this stuff, I felt high because I could not believe that boring old Céline was capable of being such a ball of weirdness. Her M.O.R. reputation is hilarious because she is, in fact, all over the road." If you cannot imagine this, and believe me I understand why because I was once like you, all will become clear after watching this clips reel he put together:

Right? She crazy! You might not ever want to hear the Titanic theme ever again—no one does—but you can't tell me that that is not a person whose goofiness you'd find endearing if you met her in the flesh.

P.S. Like Rich, my love does not extend to her music except for two songs—a good pop song is a good pop song, and I keep it real. The title of this entry gives the first away, feel free to speculate on the second one or confess your own affection in the comments.

P.P.S. If you too have love in your heart, you will find the Céline Dion Workout parody pleasing.

"The recent launch of the MacBook Air has made me think a lot about my perfect computer, which the Air is not. (...) It has a special mode so you can safely use it on an airplane during takeoff or landing, and you don't have to take it out of your bag when you go through security because the people at the FAA love it so much. If you have writer's block, it comforts you." I love all geegaw.com posts but this is my favorite one in a really long time.

"I am Vengeance, I am the Night, I am LEGO!" This made me laugh, it's so simple but so perfect. The actual LEGO sets don't excite me but if the game's anything like the Star Wars ones, it will be worth picking up.

From Deluxe: How Luxury Lost Its Luster by Dana Thomas:

I was taken to a room I had read about often. It is officially Miuccia Prada's office, and it is as stark and contrived as her designs: poured concrete, a slew of orange and yellow molded plastic Eames chairs; and, sticking up in the center of the floor, a metal tube slide - by artist Carsten Höller - that runs three floors down to the parking lot and is titled The Slide No. 5. Prada has whizzed down it when asked to by reporters.

If the name Carsten Höller seems familiar, it's probably because you saw photos of the crazy amazing slides he installed at London's Tate Modern in 2006. Note to self: if you ever become a Lex Luthor-type, make sure to commission your own Höller office slide.

lychnobite (LIK-nuh-byt) (noun) One who works at night and sleeps during the day. [From Greek lychnos (lamp) + bios (life).]

Cintra Wilson has a fun piece on Salon right now about her first time covering New York Fashion Week (which I think she is actually at on behalf of the NYT as their Critical Shopper):

So I ventured backstage to ask irrelevant questions of the designers and ogle the gorgeous little girls with their hair in curlers: 8-foot-tall high school girls with the bones of model airplanes and the faces of 8-year-old children. Their thighs are the same width as their ankles; their arms no bigger around than a silver dollar. A model named Carly, age 15, quickly became my favorite—an entirely sweet, corn-fed child. She is becoming famous on the runway for jutting out her tiny hips, leaning her shoulder blades to curve at a 30-degree angle over her 6-inch heels, stupefying her already bewildered expression into "someone slipped a Darvon in my Mountain Dew" and stomping down the catwalk looking like a zombie Slovakian sex slave.

Pretty sure the model she refers to is Karlie Kloss, whose signature walk Amy Odell of New York Magazine describes as featuring "a kind of stoned death stare; she moves in slow motion, swaying her head from side to side in such a way that if laser beams were to suddenly shoot out of her eyes—and we suspect they might any minute now—she would obliterate everyone in the first two rows." Apparently Tyra Banks does not approve of her walk, which you know, makes me kind of really love it without even having seen it.

"Where is this magical place where doughnuts and pastries grow on trees, and girls wear cute clothes and hosiery?"

Nikola Tesla mad for science and the ladies mad for Nikola Tesla. I keep forgetting how much I love this and then I see it on some random site and fall in love all over again. Now it's your turn.