i thought she was madly in love with you

the diving bell and the butterfly

you will RESPECT german austerity

helmut lang f/w 2009

style.com

clay-awesome

dido has always been a source of embarrassment for me. pitchfork acknowledges her existence only to make fun of her. my dad is a fan. she's pretty and blond. but does she deserve her rep as a pretty english bore, only fit for elevators? i admit that i have all her cd's in my car, and i actually listen to them.

because i like her.

dido writes about love (don't we all?), but keeps the eye-rolling at a minimum. 'stoned' is typically dido:

When you're stoned, baby, I am drunk
We make love seems a little desolate
It's hard sometimes not to look away
And think what's the point when I'm having to hold this fire down
I think I'll explode if I can't feel this free now

not many adult contemporary pop stars directly reference the wacky weed these days. she definitely has an edge. clearly, she's obsessed with being in love, as many women are. but she doesn't write about falling in love, being in love, or missing her lover in the traditional sense. leave that to the sarah mclachlins and john mayors of the world. she writes about being unfulfilled, in the "i'll never be happy, so fuck you" sense. and i like her little nods to nihilism with phrases like 'what's the point', and 'love seems a little desolate'.

there are other little things that make dido endearing: like a true brit, she complains in the language of navies and empires. dido will let you know, young man, that this land is hers, that she'll go down with this ship, that her other lover is lost at sea, presumably drowned. she's said in concert that she wrote 'take my hand' as a teen to try to get boys into bed with her. she was too young, apparently, to realize that she's hot.

"it's different now that it's morning and i can't face your smile," goes 'don't believe in love', "i slip away and out of sight, you've overstayed your time." i doubt i would ever make friends with this pop star in real life. maybe if i worked on her sponsorship contract, or for one of her record labels. but i feel safe in knowing that if i should ever quietly excuse myself from dido's flat, it would be a relief for her too.

random beauty

city-data, climbing magazine, le fashion, tatula, deviant art

space

antoine predock

at Starbucks, San Francisco

a guant with gray whiskers on his face stood outside Starbucks at Powell and O'Farrell, begging for change with one hand, holding a Street Sheet with the other. his unkepmt appearance contrasted with every shorter, more Asian, more made-up and trendy passerby. more significantly, his naked shabbiness, in this shopping and tourism destination of America, contrasted with those who try so hard to hide their own.

then, startling, he picked up and walked away. too bad. i was going to give him a dollar.