Lady GaGa: I've found your next heinous fashion inspiration.
Showing posts with label visionaries. Show all posts
Showing posts with label visionaries. Show all posts
3.02.2009
12.14.2008
Weekend: 12.14.08
Self-actualization! I can't even tell you how many times I've edited this post, trying to find the balance between a thought-to-keyboard tirade and sensible, restrained entry. It's supposed to be about authenticity, but it's hard to write about. The concept is even hard to grasp.
Who deems what is and isn't authentic? Do I sound smart and worldly if I just say, "Everything's authentic, there's no such thing as inauthenticity?" That's probably my canned response, like, "Everyone's got their own authenticity."
But it can't be true. If everything was authentic, than I wouldn't bristle when pretentious aquaintances brag about their co-op parties and their obsessions with Uggs. I'm not saying Uggs can't be authentic, but are they? This is Austin, Texas, where the winters clock in around mid-December and the temperature hovers at 70 degrees fahrenheit. Is practicality the ultimate tell of whether something is authentic or not?
What about motives? Perhaps, more so than practicality, the motives behind purchases and life decisions are a better measure of authenticity. Do you dress to be accepted by a peer group? Even in alternative circles, there are surprisingly salient trends. Child predator glasses (not my term), dark hose, dirty hair. Okay let's look at something less tangible than clothing. (It always seems to go back to clothing...)
Life decisions. Are you in business school because your parents demanded it/expected it/"your dad graduated from McCombs?" I'm not trying to judge anyone here. I'll be the first to admit that I am a product of my parent's raising. I'm independent and strong-willed, but that's because my parents taught me to be those things.
So, if you do anything someone expects of you, are you inauthentic? Motives cannot be a true measure of authenticity, because people do many things with ulterior motives that are entirely authentic.
What's the final answer, then? I can tell you one thing, I'm not authentic. I write my little blog, tromp around in my combat boots and Seven jeans, chatting about the latest issue of Texas Monthly and how I'm "sooo jealous" of all my friends' internships. I'm such a poser! Like, mad-pose! I'm not saying this as a deflector, either. This is not one of those disguised, "See I'm really authentic but I'll play like I'm not to diffuse any negative response." I'm serious.
I want to be authentic. I want to be as bold as Marc Jacobs, as enduring as Madonna, as creative as Steven Meisel. I want to be a genius like Kanye West and be as infiltrative as Crispin Porter + Bogusky. I want the life of The Sartorialist!
Bottom line. I may not be authentic, and can't tell you what is, but I can tell what isn't. Don't pretend, and don't be pretentious*. Don't live a life of self-indulgence and selfishness. Life a life of consequence. If you live for yourself there's no reason to live.
When Christopher McCandless entered the Alaskan wilderness alone in 1994, he thought life was about self-discovery and the relentless search for "the meaning of life." Dumb! He's authentic, for sure--he died for his own authenticity--but his theory failed.
On his death bed, McCandless wrote on a page of Henry David Thoreau's "On Walden Pond." Obviously he didn't have any paper, but in the margins he scribbled, "Happiness only real when shared."
You know, I may have just figured it out. (This is a post about authenticity, so I feel I have to reiterate that I didn't "get it" five minutes ago--this literally just clicked, which is a happy literary coincidence!) Living an authentic life means living a life loving others. A life is nothing without a counterpart, a husband or wife. How crazy, too, as a feminist and civil rights activist, I shouldn't be preaching eternal commitment. But I am because it's truth.
The key to an authentic life is--please excuse the heavy-handed cliche--love. That's what it's about.
[Dramatic pause. Go read something frothy so you can absorb all that corn syrup!]
And with that, I conclude my second weekend post.
Ooh, I feel all fulfilled and crap!
[This is an offish new tradish. Every weekend, since my life seems to both peak and recess somewhere between Saturday night and 4:00 a.m. Sunday morning, I have wild new thoughts. Definitely more on the rambling side, but they're important. I had a rant a few weekends ago on personal style, and you should read it. There's even a hobo shout out! Wha-what!]
*I know I'm like, extremely pretentious, so just pretend Mother Theresa wrote this post.
Who deems what is and isn't authentic? Do I sound smart and worldly if I just say, "Everything's authentic, there's no such thing as inauthenticity?" That's probably my canned response, like, "Everyone's got their own authenticity."
But it can't be true. If everything was authentic, than I wouldn't bristle when pretentious aquaintances brag about their co-op parties and their obsessions with Uggs. I'm not saying Uggs can't be authentic, but are they? This is Austin, Texas, where the winters clock in around mid-December and the temperature hovers at 70 degrees fahrenheit. Is practicality the ultimate tell of whether something is authentic or not?
What about motives? Perhaps, more so than practicality, the motives behind purchases and life decisions are a better measure of authenticity. Do you dress to be accepted by a peer group? Even in alternative circles, there are surprisingly salient trends. Child predator glasses (not my term), dark hose, dirty hair. Okay let's look at something less tangible than clothing. (It always seems to go back to clothing...)
Life decisions. Are you in business school because your parents demanded it/expected it/"your dad graduated from McCombs?" I'm not trying to judge anyone here. I'll be the first to admit that I am a product of my parent's raising. I'm independent and strong-willed, but that's because my parents taught me to be those things.
So, if you do anything someone expects of you, are you inauthentic? Motives cannot be a true measure of authenticity, because people do many things with ulterior motives that are entirely authentic.
What's the final answer, then? I can tell you one thing, I'm not authentic. I write my little blog, tromp around in my combat boots and Seven jeans, chatting about the latest issue of Texas Monthly and how I'm "sooo jealous" of all my friends' internships. I'm such a poser! Like, mad-pose! I'm not saying this as a deflector, either. This is not one of those disguised, "See I'm really authentic but I'll play like I'm not to diffuse any negative response." I'm serious.
I want to be authentic. I want to be as bold as Marc Jacobs, as enduring as Madonna, as creative as Steven Meisel. I want to be a genius like Kanye West and be as infiltrative as Crispin Porter + Bogusky. I want the life of The Sartorialist!
Bottom line. I may not be authentic, and can't tell you what is, but I can tell what isn't. Don't pretend, and don't be pretentious*. Don't live a life of self-indulgence and selfishness. Life a life of consequence. If you live for yourself there's no reason to live.
When Christopher McCandless entered the Alaskan wilderness alone in 1994, he thought life was about self-discovery and the relentless search for "the meaning of life." Dumb! He's authentic, for sure--he died for his own authenticity--but his theory failed.
On his death bed, McCandless wrote on a page of Henry David Thoreau's "On Walden Pond." Obviously he didn't have any paper, but in the margins he scribbled, "Happiness only real when shared."
You know, I may have just figured it out. (This is a post about authenticity, so I feel I have to reiterate that I didn't "get it" five minutes ago--this literally just clicked, which is a happy literary coincidence!) Living an authentic life means living a life loving others. A life is nothing without a counterpart, a husband or wife. How crazy, too, as a feminist and civil rights activist, I shouldn't be preaching eternal commitment. But I am because it's truth.
The key to an authentic life is--please excuse the heavy-handed cliche--love. That's what it's about.
[Dramatic pause. Go read something frothy so you can absorb all that corn syrup!]
And with that, I conclude my second weekend post.
Ooh, I feel all fulfilled and crap!
[This is an offish new tradish. Every weekend, since my life seems to both peak and recess somewhere between Saturday night and 4:00 a.m. Sunday morning, I have wild new thoughts. Definitely more on the rambling side, but they're important. I had a rant a few weekends ago on personal style, and you should read it. There's even a hobo shout out! Wha-what!]
*I know I'm like, extremely pretentious, so just pretend Mother Theresa wrote this post.
11.17.2008
10.24.2008
I'm proud to be an American!
For all six Republicans under 35 still around after this election, I hope you realize these guys are your figureheads. Granted, the Dems have Pam Anderson and Spike Lee and a hundred porn stars, but at least they aren't this blatantly stupid. Regardless, Heidi and Spencer are visionaries (notice the labels below the post), because they make me so proud to not be a Republican.
10.20.2008
Age is a bitch
Verushka, model and icon in days long gone by. No, that is not a stunt man from Pirates of the Caribbean. It's an old, used-to-be-hot model. Ouch.
10.07.2008
9.20.2008
Visionary: Gwen Stefani
I'm not very guarded when it comes to my adoration of Gwen Stefani. As a consumer of both style and music, there's no more complete package; Juliette Lewis has style, but I hate her music; Yelle has music, but I hate her style. Gwen Stefani is the modern equivalent of Marlene Dietrich, an artist so cunning, current and timeless her brilliance becomes an afterthought. I own all of No Doubt's albums (Return of Saturn being my favorite), both of Stefani's solo releases, and I look forward to No Doubt's upcoming fifth studio album with high expectations. (Random fact: Stefani was not the original lead singer of No Doubt. The leader singer committed suicide, and--surprise!--Gwennie can sing)Stefani is powerful. She dominated an all-male rock band for twelve years, broke off and set records with Love. Angel. Music. Baby., sells a kick-ass clothing line with actual relevance, and has completely reinvented herself as a cocaine-snorting femme fatale-slash-mother-slash-wife since 2006. Sans cocaine, of course.
One of her most important songs, "Cool" off L.A.M.B., had an even more important video. The music video for "Cool" is a snapshot of pop culture in our era, completely free of year indicators or tongue-in-cheek references to society. Keep in mind, this video was produced in 2004. Almost five years ago, Stefani was wearing what iconic designer Michael Kors designed for next spring. Impossible. The song is nice, too, but the visual design of this video captures exactly who Stefani is, and is how I hope my generation's pop culture is remembered.
Above: Notice the cinematography in this shot.
Above: Stefani may actually look better as a brunette, which is her natural color.
This is it. This is the image I want people to remember. As a lover of aesthetic beauty of any kind, this is the Mona Lisa of music videos.
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