Category: Design

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IXPLODE

We all have a history with ugly cars. My college buddy Toure told me that, when he was a little kid, he and his friends would run up to a neighbor’s Pinto, smack the bumper with a wiffle-ball bat, then run away, expecting the car to explode.

Also, my first serious girlfriend drove a Chevy Corvaire. I once thought about writing an essay about our relationship entitled, “Unsafe at Any Speed.”

In that spirit, I offer up BW’s slideshow of The Ugliest Cars in the World (read the accompanying story, and the 400+ comments).

(Update: Looks like Time magazine just covered this subject, prompting a 2Blowhards response. Oh, and I’m not sure Elayne’s current car is much safer than that Pinto.)

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Fashion Police

Moreover, the Economist‘s arts mag’s blog (?), has a good post on Sen. Schumer’s (D-NY) idiotic legislation against fashion knockoffs. Beyond the standard complaints about how these knockoffs allow fashion to trickle down to people who can’t afford couture (I hope I’m using that term correctly), I was intrigued by the idea that we could create a whole new class of constabulary, charged with busting fashion copycats!

Wouldn’t it be great? Instead of having courts deal with $54 million lawsuits over drycleaners’ liability for lost pants, courts could judge whether the pants’ silhouette was too similar to a design from Paris. We could have a meter on how many homages constitute theft! Think of the possibilities (without ripping off anybody else’s thoughts)!

Maybe it’s a silly idea, and we should just focus on the idea that fashion should be out of reach of the hoi polloi. In that case, I get to break out the scanner and offer up some of my favorite comic-book panels of all time:

Peter Bagge's Hate: Lisa in a potato sack

Peter Bagge's Hate: Lisa in a potato sack Peter Bagge's Hate: Lisa in a potato sack

All panels copyright 1992 Peter Bagge.

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New reads

In lieu of writing my substantive take on the idiocy of the subprime loan crisis — do ya think they were called subprime borrowers for a reason? — I’ll fill you in on my latest readings.

I began reading two books yesterday, and am enjoying both of them immensely. Around 3am Tuesday morning, I gave up on trying to get back to sleep, and headed downstairs to my library, where I picked up one of last week’s purchases, 79 Short Essays About Design, by Design Observer writer Michael Bierut. Even adjusting for middle-of-the-night delirium, I was entranced by the first few essays. Bierut has an easy style that manages not to understate the importance of his central topic. At their best, they have a “look behind the curtain” approach to history that I so enjoy from some of Ron Rosenbaum’s columns. The first 4 or 5 essays have helped establish what he sees as central schools of thought when it comes to teaching design, and how these philosophies play out in the real world. I’ll try to write a little more about them when I finish all 79 (and they are short; the book’s around 250 pages).

The other book was a roundabout discovery. Years ago, I tried reading London Fields by Martin Amis and I seem to recall that I found myself bored silly within a couple of pages. This is probably during one of those phases when I was denouncing just about all contemporary fiction.

A few weeks ago, I finished a new Mad Mix CD (I know, I know: I haven’t posted anything to that site in a while). It included a song I stumbled across in an iTunes shuffle session: Nicola 6 by Chris Connelly. I loved the Kinks / early Bowie sound to it, and tried to figure out a place for it on the new CD. The recipient of said CD, my buddy Mark, wrote, “The chorus in one of those songs involves ‘Nicola Six.’ Isn’t she a character in a Martin Amis novel?” I looked it up and, lo and behold, Nicola Six is one of the lead characters in London Fields.

“Well,” I thought, “it certainly was a long time ago and I’ve been awfully wrong about a lot of things.” So I checked with my local library online, picked up the book on the way home. I read 50 pages of it last night before turning in, and found that, yes, I was awfully wrong. I can’t say anything about Amis’ other books, but this one’s keeping me interested and engaged.

Of course, maybe that’s because its narrator is a man who hasn’t been able to start his novel in 20 years.

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Otto… parts?

(Oh, just go to the slideshow.)

I took the day off yesterday, so you know what that means, dear readers! Yup: I hustled around in traffic, walked all over the place, and sweated like Patrick Ewing! (I swear: I’m taking tomorrow off and have no plans on leaving the house. I might go all John & Yoko and not even get outta bed.)

I’d have written about it sooner, but I stupidly checked my work e-mail last night instead of waiting till this morning. I discovered that one of the eight speakers at our conference (7 weeks from tomorrow) has to cancel, which means I need to scramble to find a replacement. And, being a neurotic, I began to fear that every single speaker who hasn’t sent back his or her confirmation letter is going to cancel.

Which is to say, it should’ve been a Xanax night, but I stupidly decided to play it straight. So, I woke up at 4am this morning and began formulating backup plans. This should explain some of the following disjointedness.

Anyway, I spent yesterday in NYC and, while it wasn’t very humid, the 90-degree temps really sapped me. I probably started out on the wrong foot by heading over to the Strand Bookstore, which never has good air circulation. Roaming downstairs to look through review copies and the philosophy section, I thought I was going to pass out. Fortunately, I stayed conscious long enough to snap this pic:

it sure does

I’m lying about starting out at the Strand. I actually started at a parking lot on 17th St. and 5th Ave., around 11am. The attendant asked when I’d be back and I said, “Around 7 or 8,” figuring I’d take my wife out for dinner after she gets out of work. He proceeded to park the car, hand me the ticket, and then say to me, “We close at 7.” I stared for a moment, then just left for the bookstore.

Since I know you’re all dying to find out exactly what I bought at the bookstore, here’s the list:

From the Strand, I walked down to Otto, a restaurant just north of Washington Square and co-owned by Mario Batali, where I planned meet official VM buddy Elayne for lunch. Elayne was in charge of a pair of kids — early teenagers, I guess — who came down to NYC from Connecticut so they could see a concert at South Street Seaport by Korn. Elayne asked if I knew them. “Not really,” I said. “I think they did a cover of Word Up! by Cameo. And they spell their name with a K.”

“That would explain why I couldn’t find them online.”

On to lunch. It’s one of Elayne’s favorite places to eat. The menu had an amazing array of pizzas, and I felt bad about settling for the Quattro Formaggi, but I’m a boring man. With a camera:

They say quattro, they mean quattro

Elayne was more daring, ordering a pizza with potatoes and anchovies. At one point, she left for a smoke break, asking me to entertain the kids with a story about the time Dad handed me a shotgun “in case anything happens” during a business deal he was making.

When she returned, she said, “Mario Batali’s here! He’s in the other room and he’ll take a picture with the kids!” So the four of us got up and hurried to the front of the restaurant, even though the kids had no idea who Mario Batali is. We tried explaining the celebrity chef phenomenon, but they didn’t seem to know much beyond Rachael Ray. I, meanwhile, was holding out hope that Anthony Bourdain would be on hand, too.

Elayne made quick introductions, and I snapped a pic of Mario with the boys:

The camera does not add 10 lbs. in this case.

I wanted to take a second one, just to show that he really does walk around in bright orange Crocs, but thought it’d be rude.

Back at the table, I said to the kids, “You guys don’t like REM, right?” They made faces and shook their heads. I mentioned that Batali’s good friends with Michael Stipe, and they laughed.

Elayne proceeded to tell the story of her very first NYC celebrity sighting: Carrot Top. “Pre-steroids?” I asked.

There’s not much more to tell about the day. I meandered with Elayne & the kids for a bit, then headed out to my wife’s office. It was good to finally see it, since I find it so difficult to visualize other people’s spaces. Now that I have some idea of what her workplace is like, I think I’ll find it easier to send goofy e-mails and IMs.

Anyway, I headed back into the city till her workday ended. Having left my books at her office, I needed to pick up something else to read for a bit. I stopped in at Shakespeare & Co. on 23rd St., only to find that the main floor is gutted and there’s just a small store downstairs while renovations are done. I picked up a copy of Winter’s Tale (30% off everything in the store), read/sidewalk-gawked in an Au Bon Pain near Union Square, and then headed back to her office.

As it turned out, we were both too stuffed from our lunches to want any dinner, so the parking lot situation worked out. We grabbed the car, made a surprisingly quick dash to the Lincoln Tunnel, and got home with plenty of time for me to worry about the conference!

(The photoset has a bunch more pictures that I didn’t post.)