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Today, my two better halves are far, far away (and without both my halves, where does that leave me??) Alex said "hajimemashite!" to Tokyo yesterday morning, and as I type this I imagine Dagmar is snug in her little cabin with a big ginger cat named Kingston and Berserker the attack rabbit curled up at her feet.
Dag's visits to New York are few and far between, and usually end in her vowing never ever to return. Which I can respect. But this past fall we spent a giddy afternoon at the Met, wandering sleepy eyed and soft-footed from room to room until, fifteen minutes before closing, we burst back outside into reality and the rose-gold rays of late October sunshine. Last year I spent Valentine's Day getting tipsy on Champagne and then grinning my way sheepishly through a guided tour of Picasso's sculpture at the MoMa. This year I'd be happy to settle for a waterglass of Gato Negro with my dude, my lady, and me.
Talking about Upstate reminded me that I still had photos of a few of our own shibori projects from this summer lying around on my computer. Having experimented with the Arashi and
Kumo techniques, which are both pretty closely akin to traditional tie-dyeing, Dag and I decided to try and tackle the more complicated Itajime, which involves folding the fabric before dyeing and securing it tightly between two boards. Since we were working with vintage shirts and not full pieces of fabric, figuring out how best to pleat and manipulate our folds was kind of a headache--but our bumbling efforts were, amazingly, rewarded. Dag's first attempt, top, was a miraculous triumph.Anyone looking for a quick, basic Shibori tutorial should look here. Books can be helpful as well. Really though, the best way to learn is to just buy some dye, find some old silk t-shirts at a thrift store, and start mucking around. And I'm definitely happy to offer what little advice that I can, so don't hesitate to ask!
Back in the City, more than a little begrudgingly, and preparing to be greeted by a hurricane.
My best friend, pictured above in sunnier, sea-going, island summer times, is coming to visit in October. I'm excited to take her to dinner for her birthday, to feed her a bahn mi sandwich, to spend Halloween together for the first time in five years and, selfishly, to have something to look forward to before my next escape West in January.
I missed my best friend something fierce this weekend.
I had grand plans for taking all sorts of photos today, of outfits and treasures hauled back across the country, but it's been so dark and gloomy all day that my best efforts were foiled. So instead, here's a few shots that Dag took of her beautiful little cabin, my home base for much of my time out West (clearly, before I arrived and threw my crap all over the place--although, it's gotten even better since!) Dag is an avid collector of all things amazing, and I wish I could have taken a million detail photographs of all her little corners and displays--but it's so dark in there all day, being under the trees and with no sky lights. She jokes sometimes about venturing into hoarder territory, but I prefer to think of it as controlled clutter. Plus, what hoarder you know has taste this good???
Dagmar is a lady AND an expert chicken wrangler.
I'm back in New York tonight, and missing this face (and this pack of jungle fowl) like nothing else. Somehow it only gets harder and harder every time I have to leave after a visit. I've always gotten horribly homesick, even when I was a little kid, even when we'd only be a few miles from home. I wish I could outgrow it, but I fear I never will. I've got that ache-y, break-y feeling. You know the one.
Just checking in lightning fast from my "office", aka the back seat of my car, where I'm able to nab some hippy's wifi signal floating around out here in the forest. We made a flower crown for a friend's birthday last week, while we hung out and read Fudge and Norwegian Folktales. Can't believe I've been here almost two weeks already and, more importantly, that I only have two more left...
One of the things I look forward to the most about home is the abundance of insanely fresh (we're talking from the ground to your plate in less than 30 minutes or your money back!), delicious, plentiful foods! So I figured I'd lead off my vacay updates with a shot of a plate I shared with my friend Dag at a little place called The Market Chef in Friday Harbor. The roasted vegetables cannot be matched...
...except, perhaps, by the sandwiches! Here, Dag enjoys a little number entitled "My Sister's Favorite" which is a warm pile-up of sprouts, apple, melted cheese, sunflower seeds and spicy mustard. Yeeeeeah.
A few things about Dag: she lives in a cabin in the woods with three ducks, seven chickens, three finches, and a cat named Zowie; she loves glitter nail polish, Marc Bolan, and tiny backpacks; she has the most amazing cache of beautiful weird old clothes, mostly gathered from the local thrift store (to which we have been every single day since I've arrived. So many scores!); she pretty much always looks this awesome, and yep, you'll be seeing a lot more of her on here during the next few weeks, you lucky things!
Yesterday was a nice, loungey day...
...up until I had to go to school, on my day off no less, to take a scary placement test. CUNY really makes my blood boil sometimes (...lots of times), but whatevs, I passed!I didn't actually venture outside in this outfit (unless you count our roof), heh, but there's nothing I love more than dressing up just to lie around the house. Good, harmless fun.
It breaks my heart that these vintage Foster Grant sunglasses I bought ages ago are comically oversized on my tiny face, but sometimes I wear them around anyways, especially when all my sunglasses from last summer are either scratched beyond use or just plain missing.
Also, I'm wearing the deer tooth necklace that my best friend made me for Christmas. I keep trying to convince her to give me one of the pairs of antlers she's found and collected over the years, but so far no luck.
Tomorrow night, the original Coolest Girl in the World, aka Dagmar Van Osen, aka my bffff returns from three months of living a rough-and-tumble lifestyle in the wilds of Costa Rica.
Expect my joy levels to rise, and post volume to fall proportionately...but only for a couple of days, alas, then fly away she must. Stick with me pals!
