Pretty Dapper

Le Petit Dejeuner Norway

Once, this was my breakfast in Norway. It was this, or fish. It was too early for fish.

Frittata-la-la

Americano and a bar stool at Intelligentsia Pasadena.

Gruyere, bacon and leek frittata, roasted potatoes, and greens in lemon vinaigrette. Deadly combination, covering allt the basics of a nutritious breakfast.

"There is pleasure in the pathless woods,

There is rapture on the lonely shore,

There is society, where none intrudes,

By the deep sea, and music in its roar.

I love not man the less, but Nature more."

- Lord Byron

the mood

Succulent display at Cambria Pines Nursery.

It is always so nice to spend time in your favourite places. It gets hard to do when you have so many, but the Central Coast is always my number one (practical option-- one day, Paris). Rolling golden hills, sheer craggy cliffs, wine, sea, and mist-- and condors. What is there not to be obsessed with?

Such fairytale flora everywhere, especially at Cambria Pines Lodge and Nursery.

A Gryphon. Gar!

Hearst Castle in the sunset.

Nothing finer than rocky shores in the mist.

T(Rick)y Owens

I cannot even begin.

Fall 2011 RTW.

The high desert in an ominous mood.

Biker jacket. The best. $2,465 on net-a-porter.com

There are no other leather leggings (except The Row). $2,180

On Bygdøy Peninsula in Oslo, Norway. It was not so confusing as it looks, and I was not actually lost. (Sorry).

Lounge here now. Now. Forever.

Fall 2009 RTW.

Bygdøy. Norway has the darkest landscape I have ever seen. I loved it. Freezing water, too. Great stuff.

Both have such unyielding rigidity, the first in material the second in form. BUT the lines of the first and texture of the second? Such dichotomy I am swooning.

Goth drama a la perfection. $2,130

Rick Owens' home and workspace. How cold and fuzzy at the same time. I think this room might be so elegant it's literally painful to be in. Again, I love it.

So simple it slays me. This looks like an accident of gravity at a construction site. Amazing.

Still Bygdøy looking across the harbor.

WHAT IS GOING ON. A good question. Generally, I'm not sure. In the above set of images? Yeah, there I am. Because I put them there. Why? Because I was inspired by none other than fashion design Rick Owens, he of the uber-sleek tres-dark minimalism and excellent drapery/cutting/leather/black.

Found out (several months late-- I'm slipping) that he designs furniture as well. Apparently he began with the accoutrements for his own workshop and digs in Paris (pic of that above. melting), but there have also been exhibitions of his work. I know this may seem like an overstatement, but it's killing me. It's gorgeous. I have adored his fashion work (and interesting life story, which won't go here) for years and frothed over his garments every time I spy them in a store (sadly a rare occurrence in this state). His leather leggings? The layer of skin I've never had and can't yet afford. His leather jackets? The pinnacle of all I adore and the paragon whose imitators I can't even afford but covet for their similarity to his work. Everything else he does? Excellent along similar lines.

His clothes are sparse, harsh, and direct. So is his furniture. But there is an organic element in texture and shape in both modes that speaks of unrelenting creativity and inimitability of design. These qualities remind me of the landscape of Norway-- a place I think his world would fit like a (fine black leather) glove. The dark, the stone, the moss, and the black cold water echo the magical and frightening ethereal aura of Rick Owens' clothes and furniture. Therefore I have included some pictures (one of a lonely desert road in a storm, which is also similar) of myself in a Norwegian forest lanscape. It is actually the island/peninsula of Bygdøy in the center of Oslo's bay, but it feels like a remote country coast. It is coincidentally where the world-renowned (and rightly so) Viking Ship Museum is located. The landscape is so dramatic and dark I used images I am in because I purposefully tried to make each of them awkward by my presence, pose, and face. That's me, destroying pure beauty everywhere I go. Good thing men like Rick Owens are out there creating more of it.

I've Swam in the Eel

I am mildly obsessed with both this band and this song lately-- my "Southwest" motif penchant blending with mentions of the Sunset Strip and rivers in Oregon? Spun with the Americana folksy magical realism of Blitzen Trapper? May be a song about a serial killer, but he has good travel tastes and this might be love.

Just An Observation

Truly delightful day -- and better yet, it's supposed to rain tomorrow. Is there anything better than anticipating rain? Well, besides actual rain. A monsoon, maybe?

This is not metaphorical.

Griffith Park-- One of L.A.'s finest attributes.

Favorite.

My Kind of Parrot Heads

"Where have you been???" they scream at me when they see I have returned to post another rousing and inspiring bout of dither. I'm sure. I'm sure that's what you're screaming. And you have good reason... because while starting law school in the last two months I have come across something far more important than contract law or criminal statutes: East West Musical Instruments Co.

This is a "parrot head" jacket-- the most revered classic model from the brand. Do you see the parrot heads? Genius. Forgot Da Vinci, this is art.

If you've heard of them you are either older than I, really cool, or both. East West was the makers of fine handcrafted leather-wears during the golden age of rock & roll. Their supple and tawny jackets, full of whimsy and bad-ass, were beloved by people like Hendrix, Jim Morrison, and the members of a band I am marginally fond of (obsessed with), Led Zeppelin. If these jackets are good enough for these gods, then they are good enough to substantiate my new purpose in life: to find and own one.

Easier said than done, for to achieve this mighty object I must either have a lot of money (at least $1,000 for a common model), or I must wait like the thrifting spider I am for one of these gems to fall into my ever spinning web of secondhand shopping. I must by necessity choose the latter route, though it will probably happen that I find the money sooner than a tossed-away vintage number I can afford at a flea market in Ukiah.

Why are they so pricey? They don't make them anymore. They'd kaput. Finito. Like all good things, East West Musical Instruments has gone the way of the dodo and the White Stripes... into the foggy mystery of things now extinct and generally difficult to find. This is why I have a new goal. I will find an East West jacket. Hopefully it will fit. If not, I will frame it and mount it above the hearth I am also looking for at every charity shop I pass. If you don't have hand-tooled leather steeped in rock legend in your life, what do you have, really?

Passports of the Rich and Famous

I found these online, I do not remember the site, but aren't they quite one?

Et Plus

I hope this is what we get to wear in the afterlife.

I finally saw Dangerous Liaisons last night. John Malkovich may always be John Malkovich, but he can also be an abhorrent creeper. Glen Close is (intelligent) perfection.

And now for something completely different. More photographs of my adventures.

View North from the point at Julia Pfeiffer Burns State Park.

The waterfall and cove south from the point. That's real. I know.

Moi at Nepenthe Restaurant in Big Sur. The Ambrosia Burger is aptly named and the view (not shown) might be the finest in the world... where else can you enjoy excellent food with 180 degree+ views of rugged coastline hundreds of feet straight down beneath you for as far as you can see?

Belle Du Jour

I just think this is an amazing photo, k?

The 27-year-old actress Olivia Wilde, whose ex-father-in-law was the supposed inspiration for Fellini's La Dolce Vita. With two movies coming out this month, Cowboys and Aliens, and as if Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford are not enough, The Switch-Up (forget Ryan Reynolds, but who doesn't adore Jason Bateman?), hers seems a dolce vita, indeed.