Living in New York is a funny thing; in my six years here, I’ve become quite accustomed to living in ways that I never really imagined while growing up in Iowa. While I might have once casually scarfed a sandwich in the relative privacy of my car, living in New York affords no such luxuries: I eat my pizza on the street, Liz Lemon-style. It may be messy, but it just feels good, and where else am I going to go?! Just as my body is now my packhorse — there’s a reason I carry a big ass bag! — living in public has become a way of life.

Love for my city washed over me after watching Etsy’s profile of artist Sophie Blackall, most well known for her Missed Connections series of illustrations. Trawling Craigslist can be a sordid thing, but there are some tender moments to be found; the New York City subway system makes up most of the “Did you see me?” ads posted daily. While some may be seeking the one who got away, I just enjoy taking in the scenery. It’s still crazy to me that people from every walk of life come together, converse, and stand armpit-to-nose every day, while still managing to provide one another with a level of civility and concern that isn’t often attributed to a city this diverse and large.

In short: I love New York. Consider this a valentine to my adopted city.

So! I may have mentioned that JB and I are planning a Masonic / Odd Fellows / secret society wedding. Well, one of the first pieces of the puzzle is finally complete, and we’re so excited about it.

I’ve been working with artist Justin Durand to bring our wedding crest to life. What’s a wedding crest, you say? Well, it’s the guiding iconography for our wedding — so, our invitations, the table cards…lots of things! The sky’s the limit, really. We loved Justin’s style — seriously, his work is amazing — so we knew he was the only one to do the illustration for us. The design is based on this vintage iron piece (which I missed the opportunity to buy, sadly). We replaced the traditional “FLT” — the Odd Fellows principles of Friendship, Love, Truth — with our initials for the crest, but we’ll be integrating the conjoined links and FLT into other parts of the wedding.

We’ll be framing the original and hanging it as a keepsake in the apartment. Can’t wait!

One of the many things I love about JB is his familiarity with power ballads. Dude knows ALL of them — and he definitely doesn’t hold back when they play on the radio. We have some good singalongs, I’ll say that much. Love you, Heart!

Conjoined snakes — more specifically, conjoined snake jewelry — is my latest obsession. I did a little guest post on Honey Kennedy about Victorian symbolism, snakes and my upcoming wedding. Check it out!

Annie Lennox, you are a goddess among women. And this video is so much better than I remembered!

Doris Caesar, American sculptor, 1892-1971, in her studio.

We’d rather have the iceberg than the ship,
although it meant the end of travel.
Although it stood stock-still like cloudy rock
and all the sea were moving marble.
We’d rather have the iceberg than the ship;
we’d rather own this breathing plain of snow
though the ship’s sails were laid upon the sea
as the snow lies undissolved upon the water.

From “The Imaginary Iceberg” by Elizabeth Bishop

[Via]

Henry David Thoreau once said, “Wealth is the ability to fully experience life.”

That’s an aspiration I think we all can agree on: wouldn’t you agree?

Looking back on the year that’s passed, I have so many things for which to be thankful: my JB; Paris!; constant intellectual stimulation (so many books, magazines, and meta-yards of Internet to trawl!); New York City; the cuteness of cats and dogs; and of course, my ever-supportive family and friends. It’s an amazing time to be alive. I’ve got a wedding to plan, new professional challenges, and of course, this blog. So much potential! So many opportunities.

I’m not much for resolutions, but here a few (probably cliched!) things on my list.

Be less stressed. Nothing is ever as serious as it seems.

Appreciate the details. Take more photos. Invest in film.

Dance more! Exercise. Stretch these lazy, computer-loving bones.

Visit more New York institutions. Take advantage of the magical place I’m blessed to call home.

Drink good wine.

Volunteer.

Make time for a book club.

Meet more Internet friends in real life. Hang out with new friends. Quality time with the old.

Happy new year, folks. Let’s face it with optimism and good humor.

I debated about doing a gift guide this year; I’ve been so busy planning my wedding (two words to sum up my scheming: Odd Fellows) and transitioning into a new role at work that I’ve barely had time to play around with my blog — one of my favorite pastimes, to be sure. I also feel like everyone and their cousin’s-mom’s-dog does gift guides, but I appreciate the sentiment; when it comes to giving, I like to see all of the options that exist.

The other detail I’ve neglected to mention is that I don’t feel I’m a very good gift-giver; I’m great at giving gifts to myself (cue embarrassed laughter…), but the pressure of the holiday season makes me panic. I’d much rather give a gift as I come across it, no matter the time of year. When faced with a deadline and societal pressure, I often fall prey to the dreaded cop-out, the gift card, or worse yet…a check. You can’t see me, but I’m hanging my head in shame right now.

So! In the spirit of tried-and-true gifts, I put together a list of things that I’ve already heartily enjoyed — mmm, cheese — and can endorse as an ideal gift for you and yours. If I’d give it to myself, I’d give it someone else just as quickly.

Click through for gifts and prezzies!

First on my list: Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music. If they like folk, country, Americana or history of any kind, they’ll get a kick out of this Smithsonian-issued collection from the ’50s, recently reissued for the 50th anniversary. Some of my favorite tunes were discovered in this anthology. And folklorist and musicologist Harry Smith is such a character!

Next! Cheese of the month club: the gift that keeps on giving. Eat some mold and think of me. I’d also suggest any type of gourmet pickles or, if you’re in New York, a gift certificate to the excellent Russ and Daughters.

And a subscription to The New Yorker will enrich your loved one’s imagination for a whole year. It’s so exciting to receive an issue in the mail each week, and it’s my favorite accompaniment for my commute to work. The narratives, the reporting, even the political and economic stories: I’m left feeling much smarter after I finish an issue, and doesn’t everyone deserve that feeling?

They say patchouli has a bad name, but I never wore it in high school, so I only have amazing associations. Tom Ford’s White Patchouli is my favorite perfume: musky, spicy and very sexy. Any woman who thrives on the color black will enjoy this scent.

Next up: Pendleton blankets. You’ve seen the clothes, but you haven’t felt luxury and coziness until you’ve snuggled under one of these wool babies. I gave myself one for Christmas last year, in fact!

And on the luxury tip: Kiehl’s Creme de Corps is the best thing I’ve encountered for dry skin. The scent is subtle and comforting, the texture sublime. If I could eat it, I would.

Next: bourbon. Give me a good shot of Knob Creek on some (faux) rocks and I’m a happy camper. And P.S., those whiskey stones can be frozen or heated, so if your dad likes his drink with soda or on the warm side, he’ll never drink a diluted drop.

I can honestly say that spending $60 on a candle is ludicrous. Luda-christmas! However, Dipytque’s Feus de Bois candle is worth it, and I don’t say that lightly. Seriously, it lasts forever, smells like a campfire and makes you feel like you’re in a log cabin, sitting in front of a roaring blaze. Give the gift of smoke-scented clothing. You’re welcome.

Speaking of snuggling up, everyone needs some hand-knit woolen socks. I have a pair given to me by my friend’s Finnish grandmother. Ten years later and they’re still my favorite. Pick some up on Etsy.

Patti Smith’s Just Kids is definitely the best book I read this year. Truth be told, I actually knew very little about Smith before I picked it up. Her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe was a revelation. Absorb the gift of art, wisdom, friendship, history. For a New Yorker, it’s like sweet honey in my tea.

And lastly, because I’m a total homebody, give a pair of Minnetonka moccasins, preferably lined in flannel. They’re the most comfortable “house shoes” and just so pleasing to contemplate.

Happy holidays, friends.

I’ve recently become addicted to ’60s garage rock, pop and funk from Thailand (and surrounding Asian countries, because there’s just so much to dig into). There are some amazing compilations out there — the Thai Pop a Go-Go series is a great place to start! — and the covers of Serge Gainsbourg, Boney M and Elvis songs make me so, so happy. (It also doesn’t hurt that the artwork is incredible.) It’s really about hearing garage rock through a different lens. Every song sounds like the first time.

And if there were actual videos to accompany the songs — then I’d be in heaven.

Thanks to Lynda Barry — my hero! — for always posting the best music.

Can you believe these portraits are from the ’20s? Man Ray was definitely ahead of his time — and it doesn’t hurt that his subjects were the most avant garde artists, poets, writers and thinkers in the city. Oh, Paris in the ’20s…I can only imagine. (And I still haven’t seen that Woody Allen movie! On my list.)

[Via Mondo Blogo]

Yevgeniya Kilupe, a Latvian Holocaust survivor and self-taught artist, started making masks to supplement her pension after a life of working in a factory. The Etsy Blog was lucky enough to interview this tiny lady and check out her process. Not only is she totally adorable — her masks are incredible!

Read more on the Etsy Blog.

[Via even*cleveland]

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I’m not sure why, but when I think of Iowa — my Iowa, at least! — I cannot imagine a thriving pop culture scene, especially for teenagers. I guess I’m influenced by what my parents have told me; in fact, my sister was once doing a report on the ’50s and thought she might call my aunts, Janie and Patsy, who were teens in the age of rock and roll. However, because my family is from the country, my mom was quick to dispel that idea: “They weren’t into anything cool! They didn’t know about Elvis!” (Haaaa.)

So, when I saw these LIFE Magazine photos of teen life in Des Moines, Iowa in 1947, I was pleasantly surprised to see cute sweater sets, co-ed mingling (in cars!), slumber parties and even spin the bottle. (Granted, Des Moines is “the city” in Iowa, so, there ya go.) I stand corrected! That soda shop is bumpin’.

And I’m always enamored of any teen girl with glasses — wear ‘em proud! — and the girl with all the bracelets is just so cute and fashionable. Love her.

[Via LIFE Archive]

I worshipped at the altar of Blossom; I think all girls my age did. Watching this intro — almost twenty years later! — I can’t help seeing myself as a squirrely ten year old in a tube top, shortalls (were those flattering on anyone?) and my grandpa’s fedora. Did I pull it off? Probably not. But I’m glad I tried.

Blossom, you inspired me to experiment with fashion and wear that hat, teasing be damned. You wore it well, lady!

ENH! So in love with this little herd of pup pins. I want, I want!

Find more at Ginette Lapalme.

How amazing is this peacock? Composed by a tinsmith around 1900, this elaborate piece of artwork was actually meant as a tenth anniversary gift — the “tin” anniversary, as it were. (Now it’s the diamond anniversary, naturally.)

Now this ornate little fella needs a new home. If I could afford it, he’d be doling out mean glares to my cats for years to come. (Peacocks are the meanest birds.)

[Via Anonymous Works]

Do yourself a favor and enjoy this beautiful video by Allison Schulnik. It’s a trembling ghost ballet!

I gotta say, claymation really warms my heart. The music really adds to the atmosphere. Just lovely.

Friends and comrades!

So, I’ve got some news. This past week, JB and I gallivanted around Paris, eating our weight in pain au chocolat, properly pronouncing oui (“waaaay”) and taking in the many marvelous sights; mostly the macabre ones, actually. (There’s a funny story in here about seeking cover in a crypt — yes, a crypt! — in the Montparnasse Cemetery during a crazy rainstorm, then emerging to find an enormous rainbow.)

We also got engaged. To be murried.

On the last night in Paris, Jeff got down on one knee in the kitchen of our tiny, seventeenth-century apartment and asked if I would marry him. I said yes.

What comes next? I’m not sure! (Marriage, eventually, I guess.) I just know that we’re home now, pretty damn happy and looking forward to the future. We’re also hugging our cats.

Thanks for being our friends, and please help us celebrate our engagement by raising a glass, wherever you are.

xo,
Alison

P.S. And nope, this isn’t becoming a wedding blog, but I will definitely be posting about the preparations, as I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.

So! This week is basically an all-too-long countdown to my trip to Paris (or “Purris,” as JB and I have been calling it). I’m short on time and always seeing things that interest me, so, here’s a quick round-up.

Clockwise!

Alyson Fox’s “A Shade of Red” series is “a collection of portraits of about 150 women, all linked by the same shade of lipstick: Revlon Certainly Red.” Gorgeous photography, beautiful women. [Via Where the Lovely Things Are]

My bookshelves are lined with historical biographies, and I am eagerly awaiting Eva Braun: Life With Hitler. I can’t say I have sympathy for Eva Braun, but I’m fascinated by her life and the choices she made. (I feel the same way about all murderers, psychopaths and other historical weirdos. Just wanna get in their heads!) [Read more at T Magazine.]

Miss Moss is the undisputed queen of the Internet, and I was tickled to be asked to contribute to her latest genius project: the GIRLS playlist. Lots of awesome bloggers and music to explore.

Isobel and Cleo Knits: I want them all; this cardigan, especially.

Leslie Williamson — an all-around awesome photographer and blogger — shares memories of her grandmother. I love a woman in a turban. 91 years old!

And I’m off!

With a title like In the Beginning It Was Humid, how could this book be bad?

All humidity talk aside, Bastien Aubry and Dimitri Broquard’s collaborative art book finds inspiration in outsider art, handicrafts and ceramics — all subjects I can’t get enough of, obviously. Gotta pick up a copy of this book.

[Via]

Philip Glass + Beck = a mash-up that I desperately want to listen to…and soon it will be possible! In fact, Beck’s putting together an album of Glass remixes. Why this hasn’t happened sooner, I have no idea, but it seems like a very natural pairing.

I cannot wait.

[Via Pitchfork]

I can see myself in each and every piece from First Rite’s spring collection. So well executed, and I love me a monochromatic color scheme. Who needs patterns? Not me!

[Via]

In The Phantom Tollbooth, each new experience makes funny and concrete some familiar idea or turn of speech: Milo jumps to Conclusions, a crowded island; grows drowsy in the Doldrums; and finds that you can swim in the Sea of Knowledge for hours and not get wet. The book is made magical by Juster’s and Feiffer’s gift for transforming abstract philosophical ideas into unforgettable images. The thinnest fat man in the world turns out to be the fattest thin man; we see them both. We meet the fractional boy, divided in the middle of his smile, who is the “.58 child” in the average American family of 2.58 children. The tone of the book is at once antic and professorial, as if a very smart middle-aged academic were working his way through an absurd and elaborate parable for his kids.

I don’t know about you, but Norton Juster’s The Phantom Tollbooth was an essential, constantly re-read classic of my childhood. Initially recommended by my friend Elise — probably at the age of eight, during our regular reading sessions on the bus ride to school — I immediately fell prey to its ridiculous puns and abstract concepts, drinking them in over and over again. Finding out that the book is fifty years old this year was a bit of a shock, since it seems to exist outside time. The New Yorker interviewed Norton Juster and illustrator Jules Feiffer (his Brooklyn Heights neighbor during the 1950s) for the occasion. It’s a great read on the timeliness of the book’s birth and the merits of a liberal education.

Also, how was I not aware that Juster was also responsible for The Dot and the Line? So magical.

Um. So, Pendleton is making giant, poncho-style scarves now — like a mini-blanket you can wear with a coat! I quickly need to scrape together $95. Head over to Beklina for more info.

And this sweater is so good that it just makes me angry. Why so spensy?!

I’m a huge Amy Poehler fan. Huge. (Parks and Recreation is the best thing on TV right now. Ron Swanson: so crushable!) This week’s New York includes a great piece on the Upright Citizens Brigade — which Amy and three fellow comedians founded in the early ’90s. Back in 1998, she and the other founders had a television sketch show that ran for three seasons on Comedy Central. (I wonder if it’s available somewhere…) The show allowed for lots of characters, and Amy was able to flesh out her alter egos, as evidenced in this series of Polaroids capturing her makeup tests. I can’t decide if these characters remind me more of Wigfield (Amy Sedaris’s crazy funny book about a dying town) or Cindy Sherman.

The main takeaway? There a goldmine of Halloween inspiration here. I think I’ll go as “herpes woman.”

Twin Peaks is a series that screams “fall” to me. I can’t hear the intro without thinking of snuggling up under a blanket, cherry pie and a “damn fine cup of coffee.” The characters are so lovable, but often bizarre — Nadine and her eyepatch (and curtains), the backwards-speaking little person, Laura Palmer. There are infinitely more reasons to love this show, but ultimately, it’s certainly lives up to its cult status — which results in an incredible breadth and variety of fan art. Case in point, these can-size, miniature dioramas that show key moments from the series, including “the red room,” the scene of the crime (that’s Laura in a plastic bag, not a weird doobie, FYI) and many others.

Find more can-size dioramas in Box Artig’s shop on Etsy.

“And each stroke of his tongue ripped off skin after successive skin, all the skins of a life in the world, and left behind a nascent patina of shining hairs. My earrings turned back to water and trickled down my shoulders; I shrugged the drops off my beautiful fur.”

Lately, I’ve felt the need to recede from reality. I’m burned out on the mundanities of my daily routine, politics (which makes me want to scream, but that’s another story), the endless regurgitation of the same ol’ stuff in my Google Reader, and the humid nastiness that just will not die. Something had to give, so after a long absence of fiction in my life, I decided to throw myself into the collected works of Angela Carter. I’m so glad I did. Her re-workings of classic folk tales and the lives of historical figures, magical realism style — including Lizzie Borden, Edgar Allan Poe and Little Red Riding Hood — allow me to contemplate a world where life-size puppets suck the life-force out of their masters and tigers live in abandoned castles. And her writerly style? Endlessly inspiring; in fact, it makes me want to take up fiction again. Her words are like cooling aloe on the harsh sunburn of my mind. (Dramatic much? Ha!)

So, if I haven’t already convinced you, I’ll put it in other words: pick up some Angela Carter, and quick!

What are you reading?

My morning routine is not worthy of documentation. (But if you’re really curious, I whip a comb through my hair, toss on a dress from my pile — not joking, it’s a mini-mountain — and apply lipstick that usually wipes off before I get to work.) However, I can appreciate a more elaborate process, and geishas’ rituals are lengthy and steeped in tradition. This beautiful film from the 1930s shows geisha styling their hair, dressing and preparing for public life.

See more amazing vintage fashion videos at Glamour Daze.

As soon as I caught sight of the “player of the dulcimer,” I knew I needed to look closer. This tiny automaton — as large as a bird-boned, ladylike toddler — is credited to German watchmaker, Peter Kintzing. However, a hundred craftsmen from 26 trades were involved in its manufacture (crazy!). It was presented  to Marie Antoinette at Versailles in 1784, and she quickly snatched it up — eventually lending some of her own hair for the miniature’s bouffant. It has since been donated to the Academy of Sciences and continues to function. So beautiful.

[Via]