Hang the DJ

Whilst listening to an independent radio station in Minneapolis this a.m., I could have sworn the hokey DJ announced a recent song by "Death Camp for Cutie", which in my estimation is a much, much better name than "Death Cab for Cutie". Something about the nasal tones made it sweetly innocuous. "Dumb Camp for Corey".

It's me, Cathy!

Now and then I am struck with an honest to goodness, deep down hearty NEED to hear some Kate Bush. I grew up in the woods, so perhaps listening to faerie woodland sprites is in my blood.

Tonight I did a search-a-roo on the galawebaxy and found this lil' gem.

It starts off with an advertisement for American Apparel if the founder and CEO were interesting and smart and not a complete misogynistic prick bastard. It quickly segues to Kate herself, looking manic and small and belting it out with the rigor of someone who lives without the fear of being judged. The final installment features a lovely girl wearing a turtleneck. She dances and mimes in a dimly lit, barren room, which I can't believe is her residence. If anything, it is probably the dining area of a house with a high asking price on her block. (Give it two months and it will be a full-on derelict squat.)

Her lip syncing is good, and now and then she gives the camera a look of sheer nuttiness, which pays subtle homage to the original recording artist. Towards the end, however, she starts to sex up her moves, which is really quite incongruous with the song and the vocals. Suddenly, the pretty girl wearing a sweater (which I covet) in the dark room is the loony girl who won't leave, and this is when then terror begins. I can only imagine that months down the road, when the new owner of this 3 BDRM, 2.5 BATH home finds a cassette with Kate Bush scrawled on it in fuschia ink, that a shiver will run down their spine.

Love: Exciting and New...and then Crappy

Along with many others, so it seems, Germany's soccer coach caught my eye. Joachim Löw manages to coach AND wear a spotless, wrinklefree white button-down shirt with astonishing precision (yes, yes, he is a Deutscher, I know). During the match against Turkey, I was taken aback by how well tucked in and groomed he remained. Punching the air did not cause his tailored shirt to leave his trouser band. Some proposed that he was wearing a snap crotch shirt bodysuit. Others just love him the way he is...



but then there is this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTYrisKGmds&feature=related

Wednesday's Attire is Full of Whoa

I have an interview this morning. I also have an interview this afternoon. In preparation for these meetings with people who have power over my fate, I have chosen to go the spunky-corporate-casual-in-the-summer route.

This pretty much equals Hamptons Mom.

Perhaps I should just submit to this and smear a bit of organic peanut butter on my crisp ecru button down.

(Sadly, Hamptons Mom sounds really appealing right now...)

Mirror, Mirror

If you ever want to feel bad about yourself, have I got the place for you! It's a little shop called BCBGMax Azria. Firstly, I should like to point out that they have beautiful pieces. Lovely tailoring, great colors, fantastic and imaginative cuts, but the largest size is an 8. Despite this, the sales person on the floor encouraged me to try on a lovely citron colored gauzy blousson. I milled around for a bit, got some items together and then found myself gazing at the "Runway" rack. While inspecting the wares of the runway, I overheard the following conversation betwixt two super skeletal BFF's:

Chandra: ..."so then I asked my boss, and he was like, you know what to do, so just do it. Can you believe how rude? I mean, like, yeah I know what I'm doing, but that doesn't-"

Morgan: "Chandra, I love you, but can you tell me what you think of this? I mean, I could wear it with a skirt, or white slacks, right?"

(I slowly turned to take in what magical garment would traverse the world of skirts AND slacks. Standing before me is a 10 year old boy with long hair and an ill fitting, yet stylish, short sleeved, light gray jacket.)

Chandra: "Yeah, it would totally go with white."

Morgan: "Are you sure? Does it fit well? Seriously, you can be honest."

Chandra: "Yeah, totally. Ohmygod, check out this belt!!! But it is a LARGE. Ugh, why is it so big? Why? How can I make this belt smaller?"

At this point I am merely wiping my hands on the Runway line and eaveshating on these two sylphs marveling at the success of their air diet, yet also noting the scent of ketones in the air. In response to the question about making a belt smaller, I muttered "Eat" not so far under my breath. Then I headed to the dressing room where I found the ethereal golden top made me look like the lemon that has been in my crisper for the past month. Ho hum, back to the Dress Barn for moi.

Foreign cats are the best cats

Speak jibberish? Open a baby store!

I usually know better than to take heed of the mania in Park Slope on a weekend. In an effort to make a fast getaway from the co-op, I chose a fairly quiet back route. However, what I found was yet another baby/toddler geared store. Excuse me, I know everyone is laying a kid egg these days, but seriously, how much crap does a baby need?! Just a quick jaunt down Fifth Ave. in Brooklyn teaches one that clearly, babies need a lot of stuff. They need it cute, they need it pricey and they NEED IT NOW!!!

Naturally, these new spawn stores are trying to capture the eye and the imagination of the happy parents. One way is with a whimsical window display. Yet another is with a whimsical store name. I am sure I passed one called Puddlechunks or WoodenPickles...I am so sure.... but who cares!? There are so many ridiculous store names geared towards the softening skulls of parents-to-be out there. Why hasn't some scientistdoctorperson done a study on the direct relationship between disappearing gray matter and stages of mitosis?

In the mean time, I have done a little research of my own. Following are my top 5 baby furniture store names---all in Brooklyn!

5. Pride Sandman Inc (Sounds like a riot, this place.)
4. Katz in the Cradle (No WASP babies, please. They just fall right out of the cradle.)
3. Baby Gear (Because babies love hiking and/or drugs, eg heroin.)
2. Sovereign Furniture Baby Furniture (Furniture fit for a little monarch!)
1. Everything But the Baby (This is definitely my favorite. How many times does the showroom manager have to explain that no, they don't have babies up for grabs. "Sorry ma'am, no...just the furniture. No babies.")

Next week: Maternity stores. Really, should anyone further than 3 months up the spout really even be allowed outside? I think not! Much less, should they be expected to look good?