COAT CHECK

so am i the only one who thought the menswear shows were a total fucking dud? the only shows i really liked were junya watanabe and dries van noten. even prada was somewhat underwhelming and i ALWAYS like prada. but enough of my ranting because let's face facts, who am i to give opinions about designers whose work i can't afford. and i also have no bloody idea why i decided to make a post about coats for next winter when i can't even fucking wait for this one to be over. but i am quite certain that if i had a couple of junya watanabe's fair isle print duffle coats in my wardrobe i wouldn't be so atrociously angry with january and february. in all my years i have never had a coat that i absolutely loved. they've all been like booty calls. exciting in the beginning then get's dreadfully boring but you keep going back to it cause your body needs it. perhaps i should start saving up my pennies now so that in ten months i might actually be able to afford one of those watanabe bad boys. and if i really feel like being ambitious i can aim for that super luxurious blue bottega venetta coat. then it'll be like finding real love when every time it touches my body it will feel like the first time.

T'IS THE SEASON

my holiday season is particularly long compared to most people. loads of friends' birthdays fall in the beginning of december and then there's christmas, then new years, and then finally my birthday (which is today actually). it's pretty much a good solid month of non-stop party bonanzas, late nights, bottles of advil beside the bed, insane amounts of cigarettes, and countless hugs and loves! so here's a glimpse of my life over the past month and a half to all you good people of the interweb. happy new year!

LOVER'S ROCK

there was once a time when reggae lyrics weren't made of up "brap! brap!", or "reeewiiiiind selectaaaa", and dancing to it didn't mean getting on a headstand with your legs in a split position gyrating like a rabid maniac. just like the r&b music of the seventies and early eighties, the reggae of that time had just as much soul but with a little tropical flavour to give it some heat.

CHESTERFIELD

i've been a good boy this year and if santa clause was more than a myth i'm quite sure i shall wake up on christmas morning and find one of these lovely, tufted, distinguished sofas under the christmas tree. unfortunately reindeers don't fly and none of them have glowing noses so the likely hood of that ever happening is dead.
but a boy can dream. of a house with dark stained herringbone hardwood floors with thirteen foot ceilings, a brick fireplace and victorian era crown mouldings with one of these handsome badboys facing a large set of french doors opening up into a balcony overlooking something amazing.
imagine having a cuddle with henry cavill on one of these??? oh god!

LUMPS AND BUMPS

don't call it a fat suit! madame kawakubo's "lumps and bumps" collection has been remixed, revised, and revisited by all the youngbloods and old guns in the fashion world. the woman who brought her "apocalyptic chic" to paris in the early eighties proved that she can still rattle the fussiest parissiene feathers a decade and a half later. commercially it was a bust, but big ups for being a woman with balls bigger than the poofs that run this mad mad fashion circus. sometimes its not about being pretty, but not giving a fuck and being original. and no one will argue that this collection has guts and originality in spades. thirteen years later and this shit will avant all the other "avant gardes". you're pretty ace in my book rei rei!