Curtis gifted me with an old Polaroid camera. (He's brilliant; how did he know I wanted one?)
I'm no pro, but these are three of my favorite shots so far. My Polaroid captures the world a little differently: vibrant but blurred, it's a little romantic. And I love the anticipation of waiting for the photo to appear. As Andre 3000 says, shake it, shake it, shake it....
Sometimes my writing lets me interview cool people like musicians. A few weeks ago I got to chat with Dave Terry prior to the Aqueduct show in Salt Lake.
The interview doesn't necessarily reflect it, but I was a bit enchanted. When I asked, "Are you outside? Are those birds I hear?" and he said, "Yes, aren't they great?" I knew I liked him.
You can read the interview here, if you want. (For some reason when the stories hit the web a few typos always sneak their way in; please disregard.) I'm not comfortable sharing my work on my blog, but I think that might be part of getting real.
p.s. My favorite Aqueduct song is "Heart Design."
Hare are some observations (contradictions and heavy assumptions included) from a usually-wait-til-they-come-to-the-Broadway local who happened to get her mittened fingers on a somewhat-useless but sometimes-useful press pass to Sundance.
1. You will be ignored if you mention that you are local, unless "local" means you call Park City home.
2. You need to wear boots.
3. People will take pictures of you; you will be tempted to look at the sidewalk which explains why celebrities are always looking down or away when you see them in spreads like Us Weekly's "They're Just Like Us!"
4. You will wish you brought your sunglasses.
5. People who seem to not care come off as cooler--more legit--than those who do.
6. You will want to feel secure about your own fashion choices.
7. Good fashion choices pay off and can land you a pair of free boots. ("I like you. You dressed cute," they will say.)
8. You will be constantly tempted to pull out your camera, though you might not lay eyes on any celebs. When you do pull out your camera to photograph the head-to-toe fur-wearing woman who just walked by, you will feel a little ridiculous. You will then reassure yourself by reminding yourself that at least you're not the one who is being photographed because of her Yeti-like getup. But what about that guy who pointed his big-and-scary lens at you a minute ago?
10. You need to carry cash.
11. You will find yourself eavesdropping as you walk behind bundles of foreigners (read non-locals) on Main Street; you will laugh a little when a distinguished middle-aged man walks by and says to his also-middle-aged wife: "I've never even heard of the Sundance Film Festival." Apparently, his Deer Valley vacation-timing was off, and he has no contact with any type of media.
12. You will roll your eyes at the mink coat-wearing teen buying Miss Sixty boots at Bunya Bunya who says, "And these are the only pair you have, right? Good. I don't want anyone else to have them. Now show me what you have that's Juicy Couture. I live in Juicy sweats."
13. You will realize that you love fashion, and love people who love fashion without being snobby.
14. You will have to get used to waiting. In the cold.
15. You will feel a little like a walking identity crisis: Are you here for the movies or the scene? Is it OK to be here for both? Is there a happy medium, and if not, which side are you on?
15. You will be forced to skip out on a movie that starts at 4:30 p.m. when your toes start to freeze at 3 p.m. and you have been in every single shop and can think of nowhere else to go to warm them. Or when your cell phone dies and you don't have any contact with normal human life.
16. You will promise to head back up tomorrow and actually see the films you have tickets to, and remind yourself not to come too early ... but realize that is going to be difficult when parking is either $25 or absolutely horrendous.
17. You will get a little caught up in the glitz and glamor and hype, but will be happy to come back down to Salt Lake at the end of the day.
18. You will wish your sister was there to enjoy the day with you; press passes without plus-ones are no fun.
19. The best things in life are enjoyed with others.
20. You will have a hard time writing a story about the Sundance scene when it is something you simultaneously make fun of and are fascinated by.
You all know the girl. The one whose hair, even when lazily swept up, comes off glamorously disheveled. The one, who, even at her most casual moment, looks not only polished and collected, but entirely at-ease with her appearance. She’s the one you hope draws your name in the Christmas raffle. The one who just dropped off that thoughtful little package of sweet lemon-drop cookies and had them wrapped inexpensively but thoughtfully with a smart, little box-and-ribbon combo you’d have never thought up (or found) and she was clad in the cutest skirt you’ve ever laid eyes on. (“Oh, I’m glad you like it,” she’d say. “I made it myself.”)
She’s the girl who knows what to buy and where to find it. What to make and how to make it. What to wear and how to wear it. What movie to see and where it’s playing. The new artist, the new band, the new boutique. But she frequents the old ones, too.
Well, here she is. Or, really, here we are. No, I’m not her (if only)—does she even really exist?—but together, we (you and me) can be that girl. What I’m trying to say is that I’ve started up a locally-themed fashion/shopping/crafting/cooking/ entertaining/design blog with my friend Maeve (and her husband/my friend Brad who designed us a most lovely page). It’s a project months in the making … four partially-unemployed months, to be exact, and we finally launched. Today. And I can’t pull it off without the help of each of you.
I am lucky enough to know too many talented friends: flawless bakers, dressers, music critics, adventuresses, socialites, hostesses, artists, designers, fashionistas and seamstresses who inspire me daily. I just wanted to create a place for us all to hang out.
So please, tell one, tell all to check us out. We’re at Your Heart Out dot com. Though there isn’t too much up yet, I can’t wait to see you (and your comments!) there.
OK, maybe not. But I did get to talk to Imogen Heap on the phone today. Pretty cool, huh?
On Wednesday, I decided to treat myself to a cheap and delicious veggie burrito at Taco Time (substitute black beans, hold the sour cream). As I took my first bite into the dry, wheat tortilla and glanced around at my mall rat surroundings, I felt myself squeezed in the arms of unwelcome familiarity.
Nearly three years ago, Gateway's Taco Time was my go-to break haven when I was stuck in the middle of an eight-hour shift, cash-strapped and doing my best to get other people to buy all the things I wanted so badly at Anthropologie but personally couldn't afford. Here I was again. I take two step forward; I take two steps back.
Earlier that day, I had come to the office, only to find that my first-ever story was published in the Tribune--even teased on the home page. Victory at last! This is what I had been waiting (and doing grunt work) for. Right?
Well, the irony of it all came down to a three-dollar meal with hard rice and bad salsa: Shouldn't I have upgraded to Z Tejas or The Dodo by now? There I was, three years after my sartorial selling career: degree under belt, internships carried out, full-time editor position completed, bylines in five local publications --a dream come true!--but still pulling down the same can-only-afford Taco Time wages. And Anthropologie? Let's not even go there. I had even given up my killer discount. The getting-there cycle of a would-be writer is vicious. Talk about some mean deja vu.
It is in times like these that one fully gives in to dwelling on "cons"--also called counting your losses. It took some serious effort to turn my attention to the forward-moving strides I've made. Like I said, I have, in fact, graduated, secured a position in a practically impossible field, and found that some local editors think I'm pretty OK at what I do. Yes, I am patting myself on the back but that's what I need right now.
As such, the pros and cons have weighed in, and here is the loss/win report for the week of Oct. 30-Nov. 3, 2006:
Losses:
Wins:
The outcome: The victories always win. They have to.
Requests have been made and I finally, painfully oblige.
Click on the following links and enjoy (dare I say?) some of my stories on fashion, shopping, home decor, etc. Sorry they’re mostly sans artwork or coupled with really bad artwork--not my doing. Nevertheless, I give you:
Belt It Up.
Hello, Sunshine.
Easy on the Eyes.
Get Well-Linked.
The Skinny on Skinny Jeans.
Design on a Dorm.
I Tote, Therefore I Am.
