Friday, March 19, 2010

Hello from Sunny Austin, TX

Hi peeps-

How's everyone? I'm in Austin having a blast, meeting bands, shaking hands with labels and PR people, and covering the festival. It's a lot of work and kind of hectic, but fun. A few things I've learned here so far:

- Austin has the best vintage scene EVER. It's really cheap and all in one place.

- I didn't realize when I got here that I'd be taking my eyes on vacation to an island of tall skinny people called SXSW. Seriously, this is SMOKING HOT BABE CENTRAL.

- No matter what anyone says about SXSW, it's never NOT fun to see bands you're curious about or already love. Also, day drinking in the sun with your friends (or co-workers) is pretty much the best.

- 6th Street is absolutely VILE and should be avoided at night after 5pm. It's truly foul. Imagine Bourbon Street during Mardi Gras, PC Beach at Spring Break, and the inside of a dog's butthole. Now cover it with a thin film of sticky, filthy, smelly garbage and you've got an idea of the scene.

- You can have sex with anyone on 6th Street after dark. ANYONE. Any ol' fucking body.

Okay welp, I gotta get downtown and to the Fader Fort today, but I'll be tweeting my adventures if you're interested. I also did a little jam about the WORST BAND NAMES at SXSW. They're so bad you guys. Check it out!

And if you're in Austin, hit me at gimmie the goss at g mail

i love you!

a

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

SXSW

Hey I just did a blurb on my friend Yannis' video which is the stuff of poets. Then I recapped Gossip Girl for the first time ever, which is the stuff of WHO CARES. But I wrote it, so you can read it if you want.

Going to SXSW soon. Are you? Can we be friends in another state? I'll be working but also day drinking and hopefully seeing all my favorite new bands. If you will be there here are some of my suggestions:




My personal faves are:


Karen Elson
No Age
Best Coast
Fool’s Gold
MEN
Little Boots
Neon Indian
Theophilus
Tanlines
Warpaint
Javelin
 

Also, I hear DIE ANTWOORD is doing a secret show at SXSW. Also heard they had dinner with Lady GaGa's label in LA the other night, which makes perfect sense. Just can't get enough of Yolandi. She's a better rapper than half the dudes out there. But this is just rumor, so don't spread it yet. Unless I'm right! There's more I want to make it to but can't. I'm sure I won't even make to 75% of the stuff I want to see, but I'm NOT missing 2 Live Crew. They are reason alone to buy a ticket to Austin.

a

Monday, March 15, 2010

SAD N SINGLE: TIPS FOR MAKING PEOPLE FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU


Dear Lonelies,


I want you to be happy. I want someone to love you because life is boring and meaningless when there is no one to love. Everyone needs love!

Love happens when chemistry and good timing occur simultaneously. Maybe there's a little destiny in there, but I'm extremely pragmatic so I'll just put destiny as a subsection under timing. Unfortunately it's rare that these two forces come together with ease, so millions of single people are currently living their lives away in solitude. But they can fight this destiny by making themselves a little less repulsive. And by "them" I mean you of course!

If you're new to the blog, HERE ARE MY FIRST DATE TIPS and HERE IS MY LAST ROUND OF TIPS FOR MAKING PEOPLE FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU


P. Stangah Photoshop remix whaaaattttt

I'm no Patti Stanger but I love that mean cornholio of a woman! She sets back feminism to minus Carl Sagan's favorite Black Hole, but at the same time bitch knows what she's doing. She's the pied piper of recklessly shallow, yet eternal love. For every set of freaks who find true love through the Stangs, there are two less morons for the rest of us to meet. She actually increases our probability of effing each others' brains out and making rad babies!

Anyhow, the advice I’m giving you comes from my own mistakes- except for tip #1. I've never had the constitution to sleep around, but I won’t judge you if you do. Yes I will.



1) DON'T BE SLUTTY (unless you're in college)

Biology dictates that a chemical called Oxytocin is released during sex, which actually bonds people to one another. Do you really want to be bonded to that drunk moron with a lazy eye, Sir Biergaugles? Sex can leave an embarrassing aftermath. You guys did horrid/awesome things to each other and now he can't look you in the eye you floozy. She doesn't ever want to see you again you pig. Sluttiness comes from desperation and loneliness. It’s just instant gratification, which is a very LCD and pedestrian desire. It’s okay to go bonkers with a rando once in a blue moon, but you should really only be blazing people you actually like if you want to fall in love. Also, threesomes rarely end well.



2) WASH YOUR HANDS

Men look at our hands because they do sex equations in their heads about the amount of pressure we're going to use when we’re doing things to them. That’s why we keep our nail game tight. Even girls like me who prefer short, natural nails keep them filed and clean. The least you guys out there can do is not put your pee pee hands on us. Especially if you've touched anything in a bar bathroom.



2) DON’T BE BITTER BE BETTER*

If you're acting like a lunatic over someone, they’re probably not right for you. Sorry you don't get to have circus sex with someone who will stab your feelings with her amazing 10 of a vagina. Sorry you won't get to prance around with some guy who has Don Draperface and busts out with crazy mantricks in the bedroom, but it's time to be happy. So please take my advice- suck it up and try to do a little better next time. Be realistic, and remember all the good things about yourself that made the person who dumped you date you in the first place. There are many more winners out there just waiting for you. Wash your hands.


 no theeenks

3) KEEP IT SIMPLE (this is for the guys)

It’s a long road to Vaginaland. You can decrease your journey by wearing simple shoes and jeans. Understated, good old-fashioned men clothes.

It’s nice to express yourself, but fedoras, plushy pile fabrics or any kind of garment that can be described as “funky” are generally pretty harsh. Dressing up like your favorite genre of music isn't alluring either (you hear me Edward Sharpe poncho guy who hangs at Intelligentsia)? We are getting used to the 'wacky beardo' look and waxed moustaches, but intense facial statements call for a clean shirt, dark denim and humble footwear. Just ask the French. They keep it mellow when it comes to getting dressed and everyone wants to eff them.

Want to know a pretty girl secret? Genuinely pretty girls know when to say when. They don't under or over dress because they know that subtlety exudes confidence. You can go tight bottoms/loose top or loose bottoms/tight top. Can't do both or you'll end up looking like either a frumpy clown or a handy-in-the-taxi type. Less is always more. I promise!



4) SHHH

No matter how nervous you get in front of someone you want to impress, it’s always better to listen than to talk. No one likes a blabbermouth (me, ages 16-21). So just be quiet unless you have something compelling or funny to say. This way, when you open your mouth paralyzing depravity won’t fly out of it. No one can fall in love with you if you’re talking them under the table. Trust me, when left to my own accord I've been known to make inappropriately offensive jokes to compensate for any moment of dead air.




5) KEEP YOUR TWITTER GAME TIGHT

If you’re not on Twitter you should sign on so you can follow heroes like Roger Ebert, Conan O’Brien, Karl Lagerfeld, Young Jeezy and Rob Huebel (MARRY ME). But, if you are already a member of the world’s most convenient social network, then you know there are freaks out there who follow your Twitter feed. There are also exes, exes new girlfriends, people you went to high school with, guys you have crushes on, people you are currently dating, your boss, co-workers, and people who hate your guts who are just waaaaiting for your inanity to be revealed in a public forum. So spare yourself the embarrassment and your followers the tedium of reading about your dreams and meals. Just stick to the zingers and cool newsy items. Everyone will rejoice.

I personally enjoy drunk tweeting but I don't recommend it unless, like me, you've already made 100% sure that you don’t want to bone ANYONE on your followers list. Except that one guy Sebastian. Call me when you break up with your girlfriend and move to the United States.



* A-Ron made that up

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Sundays with Nick of Tim


bonus


by Nate Turbow

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Good lord I'm busy

I know my blog is on snooze right now, but my ideas are piling up and as soon as I have some free time I'll put them all out into the universe. Meantime, I recapped the Oscars for Buzznet. I know I'm telling you about this 3 days after the fact, which in Internet time is like a month, but HERE TIS ANYHOW.

I'm working on a few pieces for StreetCarnage and Fader (UGH ITS TAKING SO LONG) this week so please don't go anywhere.

I love you!

xo
Veevers

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Bon au revoir mes petits chéris

Sadly, the time came that I had to leave New York. I met Ramona for lunch. She had started planning her Jay-Z themed birthday party. Beyonce drag queen perhaps? Unrelated, when in the hell does Pies-n-Thighs reopen? Anyone know? Gimme the goss.

 

  Stage Diner: best cabbage rolls and potato pierogies in the city

  
Went to visit Tasha at the Diesel showroom where she was prepping their show, and that awfulawfulawful campaign was everywhere. I hate it when admen get together and try to think like the next generation. It feels... gross. I just read something about how the Reality Bites generation is losing their culturally validity. If it's true, the new Diesel campaign is certainly a testament. It reeks of MTV brass and top-down marketing. I think I might actually have to write about that but for now let's get to the end of Fashion Week.


  
My last night I went to the Marc Jacobs show. It was 8 minutes long and started right on time. So organized! Fashion Week has gotten so mainstream and out of control that it's become unmanageable for a lot of designers. They waste so much time with front of house bullshit like seating arrangements and guest lists, the shows start late and key editors leave to get to their next appts (shows). So MJ being the leader that he is, banned all celebrities from his shows. Ironic given that he started the celebrity/fashion show craze in the first place. Remember when the paparazzi had a zack attack when Lil Kim sat front row, played the afterparty at Cipriani's, and went to jail the next day? Oh I was there, queen:

 

 
my future teenager will thank me for saving it

  Lauren

 Nadine and Vic

 
A tiny princess! She was sitting right next to me with her dad on the other side. Couldn't have been more than 7. Fashion blogger? Tavi 2.0?

 
the back of Robert Duffy's head. Riveting!

  
He built a Dogville inspired set that began with a holding pen full of delicate, ladylike, Mary Poppins-inspired models, whom he sent down the runway in dark grey wools, 1960's British-looking, clear plastic trenches, and lots of lush detailing. It sounds matronly, but the mid-calf, a-line skirts paired with ribbed mens socks and patent leather shoes in mustards and greys were seemingly feminine. Somewhere Over The Rainbow streamed in the dark as models traipsed across the double-winding runway, which gave the show a whimsical tone. I feel waspy even describing it. It was VERY waspy, this collection.

  
Anna Wintour and Grace Coddington were 5 seats down from me. All of Vogue was there, seated to their right. I saw Carine Roitfield, Julia Restoin Roitfeld and Bee Shaffer up close and pers.

  
Can you see Anna's bitch glasses? It's called POKERFACE. She dictates how billions of dollars will move through the global economy over the following six months. That's a lot of pressure, people. Bitch can't be wincing out in the open as a deconstructed trollop sack of a dress shamewalks down the runway. Do you know how much garbage that woman's eyes must endure? All the sad garments trying to pass as Prêt-à-Porter? This is serious business. She needs her shades to cover the harsh realities of the presentations until she returns to the safety of Conde Naste's HQ, where she can quietly run her red pencil through every collection she won't be promoting that season. LEAVE ANNA ALONE!!! (screeching)

 
  
Like a ballet, a fashion show tells a story without words. It's just a theatrical production that illustrates the designer's inspiration. Like a 7-10 minute play if you think about it. Sets, accessories, direction, stage managers, sound, lighting, costumes, makeup, hair, stylists and PAs scrambling around. Someday I will produce a ballet about my life entitled There Will Be Beer.

 
 clapclapclapclapclapclap

I love a fashion show as much as the next guy, but the rest of Fashion Week, with a few exceptional dinners or private parties, is the pits. New York turns into one big, collective eye roll. My Twitter feed turns into one big namedrop. The gays turn mean and the bars are crowded with exhausted models giving sideways looks, which they are entitled to because they just got poked and prodded for hours, before having to perform for the scariest people in the world while the entire internet was waiting for one of them to stumble. And then there are the cunty fashion girls who wish you were never born because you're there too. And there's lots of cocaine. And Olivier Zahm. And Gabi from AsFour. And cocaine.

It began to snow which made me feel too cozy to go to the after party (it was at the Boom Boom Room). I just wanted to see my besties on my last night so we kept it mellow and went to Roberta's for a late dinner. Roberta's is the best place ever. It's pretty much the only place to eat in Bushwick. Bushwick: where Williamsburg goes to masturbate.

  
There was a bonfire in the back patio. Behind that was a rad little office/cabin where they were taping a radio show. Impromptu interview ensued, which immediately devolved into us talking about each others' boobs. Awful. Not sure when it airs but I'll let you know if I ever hear about it again, which I won't.

  Eskimo kiss

  Greg owns Deth Killers. His tattoos say "throw it up for the kids" which means you have a civic duty as a member of a bike gang to pop a wheelie for the kids whenever they ask. My new favorite slogan.

 He took us to his secret motorcycle clubhouse

  
  Rode mini motorcycles in a closed parking lot under a building? I don't really know where we were.

  
  punching bag / arcade game

  the special punching glove

  I got the high score for a female which was 486. I only made it to "brutal." All the guys were killers and assassins

  
  Drove back to Manhattan blasting Z-100 and having a Hi-NRG dance party over the bridge

 
  
a particularly melancholy goodbye

Monday, March 1, 2010

From the Inbox

 Curtis wants to spread the word for this March 12th show. Check out his beautiful photos at Slight Nostalgia

 

Johnny is in a new commercial with the Fat Jew. Where can I get a MENERGY t-shirt?


Back tomorrow with more juicy New York and SF posts. Soon I will be discussing LOVE. I know! I never do that, ever! But I want to help you fall in love, so I'll be back with unwarranted advice soon.

xo
Aviva

Sunday, February 28, 2010