Wednesday, November 12, 2008
HI! I found some blogs I now love....
http://www.paper-doll.com
http://kingdomofstyle.typepad.co.uk/my_weblog/
AND Some amazing photography : http://www.jennykristina.com
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Orders Orders!
I need an intern!
Here's my favorite restaurant in Brooklyn:
delicious
ambient
quirky
thumbs up
THE BEST
Wednesday, Nov. 5th
NEW YORKERS! come out and join us this Friday.... (i'll be selling some pretty things...)
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
WE WILL SEE.....
aughhhhhhhhhh!!
bama.
Thursday, October 30, 2008
I am in New Orleans and have been having a grand time. My pals, These Are Powers, sent me some awesome pics of their tour in Europe, including one of Anna wearing a dress I made in Prague!
Lurve it!
How swell is the following pic!!??
Monday, October 27, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008 A LONG & ARDUOUS JOURNEY TO WEBSITE FINISH
I made it! I got my (goshdarn) Winter Collection 2008 pages of my website up and running and had a mishap with it not working upon sending my first e-newsletter, directing recipients to no man's land when the server was down, but run-on sentences it is, it is done ! I'm sure you saw, it as you made it here....
In other news, I'M PREGNANT! no no no no! just kidding!
In other news! I have started a Desira Pesta Home Collection that will slowly be added to my Etsy alter-ego shop, Ersatz in the coming days...
I also would like to showcase a kickass ceramicist/designer I spied today, as well as an accessories designer y'all should check out...
This is beautiful and poetic and slightly quirky... Nice
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Saturday, October, 18, 2008
Zach Condon, will you marry me?
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
I'm really struggling right now. There's so much I want to do in this life and don't know how to get organized enough to do it all. Any suggestions, comments, advice?
MAGIC
Friday, October 10, 2008
Nothing exciting to note. Filling orders and waiting on getting my Winter collection photographs back. Here are some pretty shots of some egg totes I am working on, as well as my unbeatable view at the edge of my sewing machines. xo
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Tuesday, September 30, 2008 THE END OF ANOTHER SEPTEMBER
My life is flying by, is yours?
I love this freaking song!
Don't bother saying you're sorry
Why don't you come in
Smoke all my cigarettes again
Every time I get no further
How long has it been?
Come on in now, wipe your feet on my dreams
You take up my time
Like some cheap magazine
When I could have been learning something
Oh well, you know what I mean, oh
I've done this before
And I will do it again
Come on and kill me baby
While you smile like a friend
Oh and I'll come running
Just to do it again
You are the last drink I never should have drunk
You are the body hidden in the trunk
You are the habit I can't seem to kick
You are my secrets on the front page every week
You are the car I never should have bought
You are the dream I never should have caught
You are the cut that makes me hide my face
You are the party that makes me feel my age
Like a car crash I can see but I just can't avoid
Like a plane I've been told I never should board
Like a film that's so bad but I've got to stay till the end
Let me tell you now: it's lucky for you that we're friends.
--PULP, "LIKE A FRIEND"
Here is a list of some freaking songs I love, as chosen from my Ipod:
1. Chipping Ice --These Are Powers
2. This -- Brian Eno
3. Some Velvet Morning --Nancy Sinatra & Lee Hazelwood
4. Eeast Hastings-- Godspeed You Black Emperor
5. Luvstory -- Sigur Ros & Mogwai
6. Nobody's Baby --Reparata & The Delrons
7. Bela Lugosi's Dead --Bauhaus
8. Mambo Sun -- T. Rex
9. Like Spinning Plates-- Radiohead
10. Cross Bones Style --Cat Power
Enjoy this playlist!
and I hope you are awaiting the unveiling of my Winter Wearables. The photoshoot happened on Sunday with my lovely and hilarious friend, Anna Barie. I went and supported her and her band, These Are Powers, that evening at the Knitting Factory despite my need to drag my sleep-deprived body and HAD A GREAT GRAND time. They headlined with other bands and Neptune, some friends of theirs ROCKED MY LITTLE SOCK SHOES OFF.
If you like experimental heavy drumming electronica like I do, you'd love them too. They have instruments that appear to have been built by the Flintstones (thus handmade) and the "guitarist" or whatever that was he played was WAY HOT MAN. Yeah! I love TAP and now Neptune. My heart was warm and shiny. Anna kicks, Pat rocks, and Bill tap-dances all over the drum machines. They make me happy like a guppy. <3
Tuesday, September 24, 2008
Working 'round the clock to bring you the unveiling of my
COLLECTION
on Oct. 2nd.
EXCITED?????????????
Friday, September 19, 2008 There Is a Sheep in Italy Named Desira
I am very excited. I had an epiphany this morning and somewhat tentative plans were made to quench my wanderlust. WWOOFing in or around Rotterdam, Netherlands in February with at least one good pal, Rob, who is currently working as an architect for the firm of Rem Koolhaas. I'm so excited! Rob also just completed the flooring for the Prada Fashion Show in Milan last week...
Three and a half years ago I WWOOFed in Italy near Torino for a month. It was the best time of my life and I am anxious to work terribly hard in the coming months to afford myself the opportunity to do it again.
SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL ARTIST CUM FARMER. XOXOXO
There is the lamb they deemed Desira back in Ceresole d'Alba, Italian in 2005. She couldn't walk because her mother neglected her, but I sure loved carrying her around.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
September 16 is the 259th day of the year (260th in leap years) in the Gregorian calendar. There are 106 days remaining until the end of the year.
Years ago today...
# 1795 - United Kingdom conquers Cape Town, South Africa.
# 1887 - The first game of softball was played in Chicago, Illinois
# 1976 - Shavarsh Karapetyan saves 20 people from the trolleybus that had fallen into Erevan reservoir.
BIRTHS
# 1875 - James C. Penney, American department store founder (d. 1971)
# 1886 - Jean Arp, Alsatian sculptor and painter (d. 1966)
# 1925 - B. B. King, American musician
HOLIDAYS
# Mexico - Independence Day (from Spain; proclaimed 1810, recognised 1821, instituted 1825; See Fiestas Patrias (Mexico)).
ME AND MY PALS...ACE VENTURA WOULD APPROVE
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Already!!??
A whole slew of my clothing was photographed using the stylist T.J. Gustave in NYC last week. Here are a few shots I have gotten back so far and I can't wait to see what else comes along!
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| Photography: modelmayhem Styling: TJ Gustave |
The mint skirt, mint top, and necklace collage are my designs. Thanks so much to TJ and I look forward to seeing the next shots!
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Quarterly taxes are due. Boop Boop Bee Doo.
Here are some photos for your enjoyment!
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new skirt and 6am sunrise.
Thursday, September 11, 2008 The State of New Orleans 2008
My sister lives in New Orleans and so it has held a special place in my little ticker for the three years I have gone to visit her there. It's also quite a treat and sometimes a real tearjerker to hear of stories one hears while playing voyeur to a town of downtrodden. Also, looking for the resemblance NOLA has to it's former self three years ago, but not being able to find it.
This place has not been fixed, remedied, rebuilt, or mended. It still stands as a broken mass of architecture, people, and spirit. That isn't to say that it's people are joyous for the chance at a new life, nor the friendliest folks I have encountered, I simply mean, most of the world does not realize it isn't what it used to be, in fact, it's far from it.
"Uptown", a neighborhood rich in ornate facades, massive houses, gilded fences, in essence, the richest of the rich, is gleaming and perfect. Lawns are manicured and pedicured, siding is richly and newly painted and maintained, and throngs of people flock to upscale restaurants laden besides Starbucks, dog boutiques, and wine bars. Life is good and clean and back again. Meanwhile, "downtown", in the French Quarter, home to Bourbon Street et al, life is also thriving and boppin'. Guitars, horns, and noise are heard incessantly and daiquiris are served up at 10am. This place is lively and dynamic, but it's only a fraction of what it used to sound like and look like back in 2004 or so... Tourists make up the majority of the faces and voices sweltering in the humid waves of summer. Even still, the throngs of tourists that have frequented New Orleans' past, have died down. It's sort of quiet around these parts.
Now, out of Downtown and Uptown, down the road a ways, we find ourselves places like the Ninth Ward. This place is ... a ghost town. Plywood and nails cover most of the windows and doors that once looked out to the street. Faded paint, water marks and stains, and loads of spray paint is splayed dictating what once was found inside the houses that were once homes back in 2005. " 1 dog, gas"
Now and then you might spot some faces sitting on their ramshackle porch and walking towards the nearest, yet distant, convenience store for a soda. Even still, nothing much has changed, since scores of FEMA workers came running to help. There are still FEMA trailers parked outside of houses slowly regrowing, as if so by a team of ants. The only thing that looks different is the appearance of fine lines and wrinkles around the siding of the houses and the addition of dirt and dust accumulating around the crevices, age creeping up on empty buildings. New Orleans is only half full, half alive.
Here is my photo tour of just a synopsis of the resolute damage and greying colors.
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This is home to many many many people. Would you want your home to look and feel like this? Raw, naked, and abandoned. I hope people will start to realize how badly New Orleans needs help. 99% of the people I have talked to about my visits to New Orleans have thought it was fine and replenished. I had to tell them otherwise....
Wednesday, September 10, 2008 Humorist's ChitChat or Today's News?
WENATCHEE, Wash. — A 19-year-old high school student in Washington will have to go somewhere else for his education after he reportedly smeared peanut butter on the forehead of another student with a peanut allergy.
=NEWS
.......................
DAYTONA BEACH, Fla. — Repeating a favorite line from a Disney movie helped a Florida father and his autistic son survive more than 15 hours treading water in the Atlantic, the man said Wednesday.
=NEWS
.......................
ATLANTA — Atlanta officials will install donation meters in five locations downtown as part of an anti-panhandling effort unveiled Wednesday.
= NEWS
.......................
ATLANTA — The family of a child whose foot was maimed in an escalator accident at the Atlanta airport is suing Crocs Inc., saying the Colorado-based footwear company failed to put safety features in the soft-soled shoes.
= NEWS
.......................
OH WHAT A DAY
Tuesday, September 9, 2008 DAY TWO OF NY FASHION WEEK
Yesterday I had the great pleasure of being a "dresser" for the Ohne Titel Spring RTW 09 fashion show in the meatpacking district. The dressers help the models put their clothing on, fixing buttons, zippers, buckles on shoes, etc. Flora Gill, one of the two designers behind the label is the sister of my good friend, Katie, and so Flora asked me if I wanted to go and work backstage. Oh course I said, HELL YES. It was quite surreal for me to see the faces (and naked bodies) of the models I so often flip through while on style.com or magazines. It was also surreal to be able to fondle and lint roll all of the INCREDIBLE pieces Ohne Titel produced for Spring. I decided to wear the mint green skirt I had made for a friends' wedding in mid August and it just happened to be the same hue as half of Ohne Titel's collection of clothing and almost all of the corresponding shoes. Five inch stiletto heels decked out in macrame ruled the foot school.
Here's my design that I wore to my friend Shaw & Celeste's wedding.... and the skirt is what I wore to the show...
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The clothing is so so so beautiful and OT is going to get huger than huge. They have only had one year of collections and are already one of the shows documented by EVERYBODY, right up there with Marc Jacobs, Isaac Mizrahi, Malandrino, et al. Yay Flora and Alexa!! Here are some of my favorites, which I must add are much more amazing in person...
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Desira, does the camera really add ten pounds? YES . these ladies are much more unhealthy looking in real life. ick. I saw a lot of naked ladies. It made me sad to see how they really are just clothing hangers. Standing around waiting to be dressed. |
| I dressed this gal. She is 90 lbs. |
It was terrific and exciting and somewhat eye-opening into the world behind the curtains. Never in a million years would I have thought I would be backstage helping models into their garments when I was fifteen and staring blankedly at the Style Network's fashion shows and model biographies. OH LIFE! OH NEW YORK!
In other news, I am sick and tired of having fashion tunnel vision. I have started a new side project that is mindless in a way... weaving... I love listening to good ambient electronic music and instrumental and zoning out while letting my hands get their energies out. I need to get get back into other crafts I have fallen out of love with due to my very needy love, clothing. Video, elecronic music collaboration, cooking, and painting will be some of them.
WEAVE CITY
Thursday, September 4, 2008
I spent the whole day at the beach with my friend, Erik and was tossed around with the waves and jellyfish. The Rockaways make me feel like I'm on a deserted island complete with nudes and coppertoned skin. I had a great day and am so glad I finally made it to the beach just once this summer.
Erik with a naked man in the background. Now it's back to work.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Do you remember in the movie Clueless, "I think we checked them for the September 3rd conversations." That movie is THIRTEEN years old. Dang. Sad.
My dad said recently, " I was eighteen yesterday.", with a completely stoic face. Maybe I am really starting to know what he means. I'm only twenty-five, but I have a voracious drive to make the most of all these days. I took these photographs like the most blatant voyeur in town a few days ago. Watching this man, I started to cry.
I felt sort of awful taking his photo without his knowing, but I couldn't look away and constantly grab for my camera...
Speaking of aging, I saw Elegy on Saturday night. It stars Ben Kingsley and Penelope Cruz. I went in slightly begrudgingly because I had aimed to see the new Woody Allem movie, Vicky Cristina Barcelona, yet it was sold out. Even still, Elegy was perfect for my mood. It revolved around a middle-aged man who had lives his life void of any real attachments, never falling in love, and sleeping with scores of women. As he finds himself growing lust-filled and enamored with a young student of his, his age and thus his neuroses creep up on him. He and she start to woo one another, yet he is certain she will leave him at any time for a younger and more distant lover. I don't want to ruin the plot, but I couldn't help having a set of constantly watering eyes throughout the film. Not only was the content of the film moving, beautiful, and unnerving, so too was the cinematography. There was a constant flow of film stills I would easily put in frames on my wall. The movie struck a deep and vulnerable chord in me. Who doesn't think of being alone til death does part? Well maybe not everyone, but I sure do. I find myself being scared of losing attachments I have made time and time again, but I suppose that is the err of life and love, the truancy of constant companionship beit friend or lover. I wholeheartedly suggest seeing the film and I look forward to seeing Vicky tomorrow with my pal, Hallie. (pallie hallie) I feel like I shorted this entry. I need to write more.
Saturday, August 30, 2008 ( a whole month later)
I share a huge warehouse space with ten other businesses here in Brooklyn. Our studio space had robbery about a month ago and we lost a lot of stuff. $30,000 worth of stuff was plundered (all the computers, music recording equipment, musical equipment, a camera, ....) I lost six months worth of photographs, documents, files, screenshots, website stuff on the computer I had been using, as well as a card full of photos on the camera I had here. SAD! But we are moving onward. Here is a list of the other friends who call this studio home. This is my first home, as opposed to my home away from home because I work around the clock and so these people are my family...
Rob Kalin (**superstar**)
Michael Neil Jacobsen
Teresa Federer
I am exciting for the UNVEILING of my FALL/WINTER LINE to be worn by the beautiful and multi-talented Anna Barie of THESE ARE POWERS. This launch will take place at the end of September. Until then, check this out...
My friends at Burdastyle.com celebrated their 100,000th member to join by having a bash in Brooklyn on Wednesday. With the DIY community's finest, as well as DJ M.C. Collizhun and Antwan Duncan snapping pictures, we celebrated with some bubbly and some peppered dance moves. My other pals at Love Brigade, an international design house of the future, is having their Fashion Week show on September 5th in NYC. I am sooo excited to crash that blast. Mister Duncan will also be photographing that show. Check out my Flickr page for the latest in NYC high design and party time(s).
More to come tomorrow.
Friday, July 25, 2008
This is something I will share about myself. Of the music and songs I listen to every day, 70% of them are by Sigur Ros. I like to pretend that I live in a dreamscape sometimes.
Here's a photograph of a dreamy new dress I made. I took the photo at 7:30am in the rain.
Sigur Ros resonates through it.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Lots of exciting things have been happening and so I will be blogging left and right. So one of the pals I dressed for Siren Music Festival, who is a siren herself (Anna) was enblazoned into the html of STYLE.COM wearing the jumpsuit we designed and I made!! I squealed when I saw it and really couldn't be happier with the photograph and the great press I have received thanks to the powerful musicians who have deemed themselves, These Are Powers.
They really rocked my socks on Saturday and while watching them perform, the hair on my legs stood up. I really appreciate music that doesn't cut to the chase. I wrote this to Anna after first listening to her music....
"I am really into very lengthy, kind of tumultuous, transitory, somewhat ambient ,
"experimental" (for lack of a better more informed word), and kind of
grueling music that makes your ears wait and wait for a climax or lyric.
So much music these days is straight to the point lyrically, kind of
expedited, and then moved on to the next song. The words often start
just as soon as the instruments do, which is fine in a lot of cases, but
I appreciate a good and solid few minutes of drums and bass and what have
you, an overture of sorts. "
They really blew my mind and I know I have good taste and a knack for knowing what will get really popular and well-appreciated, and my premonition is that THESE ARE POWERS are the next big thing. Seriously, I have always worn thrift shop vintage, and eaten organically since I was fourteen and started sporting huge hoop earrings before anyone else and loved MIA when she was just a lil gal performing in small venues and started doing yoga when I was fourteen too, ha.... I know a good thing when I am introduced to it, and so I implore you to get tickets to the next THESE ARE POWERS show in your area and have yourself a listen. The band's second to last song at the Saturday show exorcised bits of Missy Elliot and the electro course of action my ears and legs took, shook me into the widest smile I could muster. These people are talented. Here's what the NEW YORK TIMES said about them in an article published on July 21st...
"Within Siren’s indie-rock parameters, there was ample variety: from the
torchy languor of Beach House’s ballads to the distorted, jittery garage-punk drive
of Times New Viking; from the 1980s and 1990s shoegazer nostalgia of Film School,
awash in guitar reverberation effects, to the sardonic artiness of These Are Powers,
who cranked up brittle drum-machine and guitar riffs and, at one point, used
coughing for vocals."
I am honored to have had the privilege of collaborating on an outfit with Anna and having someone really let me have free reign in designing something to wear at such a big event. The bassist, Pat also wore a tshirt and I thank him too! I love THESE ARE POWERS AND here are some more photographs, as credited by their photographers...
Matt Tyson
Lyndsey Matthews
Taylor T-Sides.com
Sean Okane
Sean Okane
Matt Tyson
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Vampire Weekend
Last weekend my friend, Asher Sarlin and I designed and printed some tshirts for the new Vampire Weekend video that was filmed on Wednesday, so stay tuned for something pretty funny. Dundundun!
ConeyIslandNYC &These Are Powers
played Siren Music Festival on July 19, 2008 and Desira Pesta designed a couture jumpsuit for Anna, the singer and guitarist to perform in. A red custom one-of-a kind jumpsuit and necklaces were made & Pat, the bassist rocked a Desira Pesta three color print tshirt!
The jumpsuit that took many months to manifest
Anna being photographed for Style.com !!!!!
See more photos on my flickr page
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Holy Crappolie, I haven't blogged in two weeks.
Today I was driving my friends car in Brooklyn and I saw a strange and bad sight seated next to me at a red light.... a young woman driving two kids in a sedan. She had on an ipod AND she was drawing in a sketchbook balanced on the wheel. WHAT AN ACCIDENT CANDIDATE!!!! Stupidddd!
I have fallen out of habit of writing because I have been terribly busy working and havent found anyone to help me **see blog entry below**. I am currently working on orders, as well as a super special exciting project for the band, These Are Powers. I am making some outfits for Anna, the singer, to wear at the Siren Music Festival this weekend, as well as things for tour. I'm excited and they're coming out smashingly. She is going to look smashing. I will post pictures after I take them. Summer is fun, but I need to go to the beach pronto signori! This weekend or bust.
Lots of incredible new clothes are coming your way for both males and females and all those two words leave out. Beautiful vintage inspired prints and delicate lines. Tailoring and classicism are attended to... here's a sneak...
More to come. xoxoxo
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
HI! I DISAPPEARED AND NOW I'M BACK. I'M HIRING!!
If you or someone you know lives in NYC and needs a part-time paid internship sewing and cutting for a handmade independent line by a kickass designer who treats her workers like awesome pals, let me know!! email ---> desirapesta@desirapesta.com
Friday, June 20, 2008
So, Scandinavia has taken over my small sea-faring village in Brooklyn New York. Ikea has arrived across from my studio space and it brings throngs of zealots who readily camp out front two days prior to its opening to bring home a free sofa, if they can be one of the first 45 people inside. I am both joyed and annoyed that this store has taken up space in my lovely, small, and community-oriented neighborhood, where we recognize each other by face and sometimes by name and there are only five restaurants to dine in. Sigh. I moved here only five months ago and shouldn't find the gall to call this my home yet, yet it is. I have found my dream neighborhood, minutes from Manhattan, yet reserved and remote, where I have a real community.
What used to be a wonderfully dilapidated old waterfront building and a pile of rusty metal jutting out over the water, is now a tumultuous mess of primary colors save for red. It really ruined the landscape. Red Hook (my neighborhood) is dusty, dingy, grey, and it appears as though God yielded his highlighters and legos to signify change right smack here. Now, it has been said that this new Ikea brought 600 jobs to red Hook residents, most of whom, I am sure, are residents of the many nearby projects. Jobs in this economy are badly needed, yet although these people now have a mildly competitive barely living wage, they will soon be driven out by the many people who will be moving into our neighborhood in the coming months and years. This place is one of the last Brooklyn neighborhoods waiting to be gentrified. The white people who live in R.H. are rich. The mean rent is $1000/month, that ain't cheap, and rent's only going to go up. That means, the escalating rents coupled with the stores and boutiques and restaurants that will also emerge, will drive the projects out, annihilating any real good this Ikea did for the job-needy of Northwest Brooklyn. 
When just six months ago my mention of Red Hook would have drawn a slew of puzzled looks and "where?"s, now friends and acquaintances are vowing that their move to Red Hook will recreate the idyllic suburbia of their childhoods. Don't get me wrong, I am not an Ikea-hater. I love egalitarian high-design as much as the next Dwell reader, yet it doesn't need to be here. I love looking at furniture, but NYC is small, tight, and close-quartered. We don't have the space a small suburb in New Jersey does to accommodate a huge crap of a building with the thousands who frequent it every week. Now there is extra traffic and extra buses and extra jerks looking around for the perfect spot to develop their next skyscraper.
Every day, as I pedal that five minutes it takes to get to work, I am almost mowed down and killed by the many trucks barreling down Van Brunt street or any other adjacent road. It's much scarier than that in Manhattan because there's no where to go. A narrow two lane road you'd find in Vermont does not fit two 18-wheelers crossing paths, as well as bikers and walkers and strollers. This little town can't handle it. At night Red Hook shuts down. This place is beautiful. I love it. Ikea, you and cheap disposable products suck suck suck.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Damn, I am a bad blogger. I have been really frustrated lately. This is the only type of human who ever hits on me and it's really disheartening...
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
COME ONE , COME ALL NYC
Sunday, June 8, 2008
HI. Today sweat was a constant companion. It was so freaking hot. I decided to bike into Manhattan via the Brooklyn Bridge and wore a romper like a three year old because it was the only thing I could stomach wearing in this sweltering liquid sky and ground I had to trample over. I went to see the David Byrne Building installation near Battery Park, which was kind of boring. I also think I had some residual anger from having to truck around all of the gaped-mouth tourists who continually block the bike lane of the bridge to take pictures of each other. So maybe I would have enjoyed it more had I not had to deal with them. There are two lanes -- one for walking and one for biking and no one seems to allow the painted biking person symbol to keep them from nearly killing us bikers. Sorry, it's just really annoying. For instance, imagine driving down your street only to have to continually dodge seeing eye dogs in your path, despite there being a seeing eye dog lane. The ride was wonderful though, it hurt so good. Being completely encased in your own sweat while exerting loads of energy dodging cars is pure bliss. I also got a strawberry sundae and then went and got a much needed massage. I was in a car accident last October and so for seven or so months, my neck and back muscles have been unbelievably tight. As the masseuse stood above me, laboring over my pugnacious back muscles, she said, "so so so tight". I know, I know. It's as if the muscles are attached to a rope, which is being pulled in the opposite direction by a little troll who is making his way to Miami and won't let go of the rope.
I am so excited to get back into top physical form this summer. I usually fall out of it during the winter when I take to large doses of ice cream, wine, bowls of rice and the occasional hot chocolate. So far, so good, I can still do the ole spread eagle.
I saw Sex and the City last night. It was awesomeee. I love how that show and movie somehow successfully garnered a ridiculously eclectic audience full of women of all types. I must say, some would think I and other ladies who aren't into labels and men and drinking 24/7 could love such a hyperbolic rendition of a NYC female crew, but I do, they do. It's ridiculous and hilarious and cheesy and stupid and wonderful all the same. Entertainment in a guilty form. This was painted on the wall of the Court Street Theater where I saw the movie. YEAH WOODY. YOU'RE MY PAL EVEN THOUGH YOU MARRIED YOUR DAUGHTER, YOU POOPOO.
Lastly, a new top up on Etsy, which was a gift to one of my BFF's , Amelia, for her graduation from architecture school after a grueling five years. That's her there modeling. This blouse is called, In Rainbows.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Mallory of www.missmalaprop.com interviewed me last week for AOL Living's Styledash. Here's my interview in living color....
I'm going to start working on my guns with my pal, Chanel of Junkprints. We're going to start playing tennis at the local park. I haven't played tennis in two years and before that five years. Last time I played doubles with tennis stars, Wes, and Stone and sat in the corner with my racket across the court because I was so frustrated with my performance. This summer is going to be different. I'm going to serve like no other. Volley unparalled. Back and forth the ball will go, impossible to see to the untrained eye. Grasping my racket with a purpose, I will get major biceps and a whole lotta gravy. what?
So here we are , almost summer. I hope this summer is good. I hope it kicks major AZZ.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Toni Basil, songstress of "Hey Mickey" had another hit, a much better hit in my mind. Her voice is strong, strained, desperate, and willful. 1966 was the year, the year for women and their beckoning and moaning for long-lost, unrequited, or adulterated love in all of it's poor self-effacing and sadly sexist glory.
"Hey! I'm 28/It's getting late/What have I got to do?/My time is going/My fears are growing/My chances now are few/ Lacquers lotions sprays and potion/ scented unscent /mild and pungent/ lipstick shadow pancake for the eyes/ It's all been advertized but it's getting me nowhere./ Hey! I'm 28/It's getting late/What have I got to do?/My time is going/My fears are growing/My chances now are few. / Dress revealing/ Sex appealing fur and feather suede and leather/ Ah naughty haughty sure to glamorize/ It's all been advertized/ But its getting me nowhere/ It's nice to be respectable/ Sainty sweet and fair/ But i dont want to finish off alone in a rocking chair/ Hey! I'm 28/It's getting late/What have I got to do?/My time is going/My fears are growing/My chances now are few."
Oh ladies. She's been sexin it up and still no sugar. What should she do?
Monday, June 2, 2008
I must mention our friend, John Ryan Pike, who passed away a year ago today. You and your family are in my head every day, mister. http://www.sticksman.org. Please donate to this wonderful cause.
He was the drummer to super popular Ra Ra Riot, a musical band currently wreaking havoc in the minds and hearts of many. It is also a band who belongs to two of my three old boyfriends in the world. John, you rocked my socks and everyone misses you and will forever.
This man is very special to many many many. Here's a repost from my blog about John from a year ago because I think it speaks the truth about how I feel about him and how everyone else does too. ...
Birth & It's Opposite * Jun 11, 2007
This is my first Dear John letter.
Dear John,
Did I know that when I met you five years ago, up on the idiotically deemed 'Mount Olympus' in Syracuse, that you would later change my life? Did I know how much you would alter those of others? Did you know that you would one day bring together a group of people drunk with love for you, for each other?
You took me apart when I heard of your passing. You took my arms, legs, neck, and ears and disassembled them, they weren't working. With strong and confident fingers, you transferred them into a basket and began to think. With your head in your hands on your big oak desk, you stared at my pieces and shook your head in uncertainty... trying to ascertain what to do, how to change this poorly built human.
The pieces were certainly ill-fitting, the mood grew concentrative...
As hours and days when on, you fumbled with my pieces, trying to put me together like a puzzle that had been marred, arranged incorrectly. These parts thought separately for a time.... they didn't know how to refit themselves either; and even contemplated taking a break from one another to work on themselves, test out their motions and capabilities.
As days inched by, you took my most ill-fitting components and softened the hard edges. You worked around their dappled corners and sanded them back to their soft, smooth, and unadulterated beginnings. You added a bandage when needed, and as hours turned to days, you laid me out in the sun in my reborn form. This new form had forgotten its "problems", misaligns, and quirks. It had departed from a shape that had allowed itself to be angry, untrusting, and without hope. You, you were the sculptor to my changed heart. Love for others returned, while doubt and ill will towards those who "wronged" slinked away like a shadow. You blew away the dust you had created and I grew warm.
With a new known future trajectory for a life rich in friends and moments celebrated in ways I had forgotten how to do, I grew warm. I am warm. I swear. I love.
You added touches of acceptance and humor. You told me to hold onto my friends and family more closely. to take more photos. work harder to collaborate. you taught me to make my family stronger and know each other better.
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Losing a friend is something I had never encountered before.
Last Sunday I received word that John Pike had passed away. Being the best friend of good friends, as well as a buddy throughout my college career, I was dumbfounded. John was one of those people who accepted everyone, whom everyone liked, who everyone wanted to be friends with. He is someone who led Clint to come back from summer vacation proclaiming "God, this summer John beat us all at music, he can play anything".
"John is dead", I thought over and over throughout the course of that day, and onward to today, days and days later.
Sick with grief, my friends gathered together to talk about the events that lead to it all. We cried. These friends are friends I hadn't seen in weeks or even months. We gathered to mourn and support each other. I tried contacting as many friends as I could to inform them of what had happened, everyone needed to know. I couldn't sleep, nor eat knowing what his family, girlfriend and closest friends were going through. I was terrified to speak to them.
I got into my seat in Emily's car. We were going. En route. A shitty diner. A few complaints about the song choices I had made available on my ipod, but then a group settlement on Bush's Sixteen Stone.
I grew nervous. The laughter that had begun at the inception of the journey grew to complacent silence with a cough or finger fumble in between. We were getting closer. We dressed into our respective outfits in the hotel room. We got back into the car. Stomach, unsettled.
The wake was incredible. There were people filling the entire building, as well as a steady, solid line down the steps, around the wooden siding and back towards Salem.
We waited. ...
We were ready, yet apprehensive.... We looked around to see if you were in line with us, glancing over both shoulders. We didn't believe this. How could we?
Through watery eyes, C told me that he wished he had been in the same community as his friends, namely John, and made music. He seemed angry that he had let time pass alone, neglecting to use the short time John had left, unbeknownst to everyone.
the interim between learning of John's death and going to the services was the most mellow time in my life in several years. I felt as though i had taken a sedative. my mind and body moved more slowly and with patience. i had the ability to think things through, as opposed to the sagacious, yet fast-moving, insatiable, and restless person I had been for the past 3 years. I wanted results. NOW. i went to work, thought about my own clothing business while on the way to work, drew and wrote, got to work, nine hours passed, went out to buy fabric or what have you, went home, sewed, worked on my website, hung oout with friends, but couldnt relax. i wanted to keep my momentum and keep moving without notice of what was up or down, left or right, or right under my nose. i was searching for happiness and masochistically mourning doing everything alone. i turned to people constantly, but it was often for a slight departure from work. i was quick to make a joke, yet also quick to judge or make negative assumptions.
i was on speed. ,,, until this aforementioned interim. i'm sick of saying "i". this sounds like its all about me, which I think it relative to being a human being, yet in context, its about all of you. i wasnt spending too much time writing emails to friends, nor making presents for them every so often. i thought about it, but deemed it too time-consuming. i guess ii had the new york curse. going going going, until you're gone. i want my friends back. i want a community. this isnt to say that i dont see people. i dont know what i am saying. all i know is that i wasnt happy. this shouldnt be so fucking selfish. i dont mean it to be. im trying to reason and rationalize. i am confused. this is turning into a free write, which i am glad about because i tend to edit based on how i think people will judge me. i swear i wont edit again. i love my friends, past and present. i love my friends, future. i do know that i dont want this change to be temporary., no more apathy. this is permanent and/or long term. this "change" will become norm. to put this change to words woudl be....
This past weekend changed my life. Impossible to put to words, all I can really dictate now is that I cannot honor you with enough words, I cannot praise your family with sufficiency. I can't.
you reminded me that it is about the moments.
I realized that through John's passing, people came together. Friends who hadn't looked each other in the face in a year and a half due to conflict were hugging and chatting. People who had harbored admiration for other others were proclaiming it. Arms that had never met the shoulders of a peer were doing just that. People were pouring their hearts out to one another. People were praising John. Poeple were spilling out of the church out into the misty day. This was the saddest I have been in years, and yet I had more love for humanity, and people who weeks prior I had attested to never being heard from again.
People die every second and yet I know that i don't take notice, until it's someone in or around my life.
I'm sick of complaining, of getting angry at people walking slowly up the subway steps or at my boss for his removal from middleclass reality; and of exerting passion towards thinking and acting on things that don;t matter. I want to live a life that matters and surround myself with people who matter. John mattered.
to be continued.....
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A year later and all I can say is unrest is still present. Death can never be settling. Everyone's in my heart. Every day.
Friday, May 30, 2008
I just want a lover like any other
What do I get
I only want a friend who will stay to the end
What do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
Im in distress I need a caress
What do I get
Im not on the make I just need a break
What do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
I only get sleepless nights
Alone here in my half-empty bed
For you things seem to turn out right
I wish theyd only happen to me instead
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
[solo]
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
I only get sleepless nights
Alone here in my half-empty bed
For you things seem to turn out right
I wish theyd only happen to me instead
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
I just want a lover like any other
What do I get
I only want a friend who will love to the end
What do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
What do I get
Oh oh what do I get
Well let me tell you now
I get no love
I get no sleep at nights
I get nothing thats nice
I get nothing at all
At all,at all,at all
At all,at all,at all
Cos I dont get you
Friday, May 23, 2008
busy.... click below
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Today I am dogsitting the dog pictured below two posts ago. It's been fun, especially when it started raining while on a walk and she continually looked up at me with disgust and remorse for having allowed me to bring her outside. When we got to my studio, I was nearly knocked over by an airborn mass of chemicals. The kitchen floor was being stripped and it was seriously flooring. I often get woozy very quickly. I can't even stand perfume, so when I found myself making a video of myself spinning around in a chair to music, as well as loosing the ability to speak without stuttering, I knew I had been bitten by a chemical high. Shit. I also decided I wanted to do the following experiment--- to bring a scale into the supermarket across the street to weigh things. I would then in turn, compare my data with the scales provided at the supermarket to see if they were equivalent. My projected hypothesis is the supermarket scale is rigged. I wonder if I will get kicked out.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Yesss. My hot friend, Alex, was photographed a few weeks ago by The Sartorialist for GQ. He will also be in June's issue of GQ. Yesss.
Yeehaw. In other news, New York has turned into Seattle. I think that means Seattle has turned into NY, in turn. They deserve the nice weather. Last night I went to 8th Street Wine Cellar in the West Village with one of my BFFFFF's, Lauren. It sucked. We got one of the cheapest glasses of wine, which one could say was fated to be subpar, but I do not think a wine bar should ever serve poor watery and tasteless piss for $8/glass simply because cheap = shit. Nope. I was pissed I didn't spend a little more. Then again, again, that is not an invitation to give your diners and winers swill. I don't think I will be going back, as it was also intolerably loud and I could hardly hear Laur-laur. In other news, my sister will be visiting me this Sunday and I am ecstatic. She's been living in New Orleans and I haven't seen her since Christmas. She just went on a service work trip to Jamaica and will be returning to my dismal New York with a Banana Boat commmercial tan no doubt. I do not get tan. My skin just gets less transparent. I am going to be outfitting quite a few people for weddings this summer. I'm psyched. I hope they don't steal the show too much with their giant collars and long colaged belts. Brides might not dig that. Wee hoo.
Sunday, May 18, 2007
More than halfway through May ick. I am working on lots of stuff to be put online this week! Cheap too! I'm really excited for this summer. I hope it rules. Yesterday I went to the Sample Sale I was participating in at Love Brigade Co Op. I got a cool red sexy top by Farrahbell, a Japanese designer. Here are some pics from the sale, which is still going on right now, so RUN RUN RUN , my stuff is 75% off! Picture blog day.
Tara of Misery & Co.
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A lot of my sale stuff with my Fela Sig Blouse in the window!!! & Layla of LEDTHREAD
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I wouldn't eat their catches.
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Daisy, famed mixbreed of Red Hook bar parlance.
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brunch the next morning with Shannon.
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Foodies.
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Thursday, May 15, 2008
I feel like a piece of shit. After looking at pictures of Chinese children covered by blankets or buried under broken buildings or parents collapsed in agony over their dead loved one it is hard for me to make clothing and feel happy about the life I lead. Myanmar. China. Beirut. Palestine. IRAQ... There's so much terrible suffering going on. All of the time. I think we all need to find meaning in what we do, being so distantly removed from all of this. Viewing the ailing world through photographs or television effaces my comfort, sense of well-being, and sense of purpose. What the hell is happening????????? I can't look at Vogue and then go on and look at a covered body in the newspaper without feeling like I'm going to be sick.
Thinking to times when people had to go on, living their lives while people perished or fought, I can't help but think of Vietnam and WWII. How the hell could a housewife in say, Madison, Wisconsin, who had no direct ties to the war go on living her life while these things were happening so locally and yet so distantly. How can people go to their real estate jobs and go on selling houses and then go on buying expensive cars and filling their refrigerator with imported food goods without looking about and saying, this is very very rare. What I see in front of me, what coats me, what fuels me, very few have this. I'm not covered in burns from the landmine that blew up with me atop it, nor do I have to sit at a makeshift vigil in the yard of my small apartment to mourn the death of my governmentally forced only child, who is now dead. .....
Monday, May 12, 2008
DESIGNER SAMPLE SALE
Buy my treats for 25% to 85% OFF
Friday, May 9, 2008
I went on a roadtrip. I am back now. I did lots of fun things... like this...
That's on my family's land in Pennsylvania. I grew up in the woods. I went up to Syracuse, New York, where I went to college to see the last crop of my friends before they graduate and disperse. I cannot believe that I have been out of college for three years! Gee golly. I have lots to talk about, but lots more work to do than talk. I will talk soon. The rain in New York is not fun.
May 3, 2008
Rushing to finish all of my goodies for Love Brigade CoOp in Williamsburg, Brooklyn. If you live in NYC or visit, please check out this awesome store which hosts over 20 independent designers from all over the world, including yours trueleeee! Last night I went to see Mister Lonely, the new Harmony Korine movie. (Directed and wrote Kids, Gummo, and Julien Donkey Boy and is my sister, Eva's, favorite director/writer/man). After the showing, Mister Korine did a question and answer session. I must say that he wasn't fond of the answer part and would often offer "um ya ya ya" as his responses. Then again, a lot of people asked some really asinine questions. I'm sure a lot of pretent NYU film students made up the bulk of this said lot. I wish people would ask questions about other aspects of a person's life or truly interesting aspects of a person's work. I just really don't care what type of .mm film was used or why he chose the music he did.... Korine summed it up well in saying, "because I liked them" or along the lines of a song simply sounding nice. Ha. Duh. Sometimes things just make sense to the artist or maker and there shouldn't have to be a deeply residing current of theory and introspection and sensation present in a choice. I guess the same thing goes for why a composer might choose a certain series of notes... because they sound right.
The movie was beautiful visually and it was the most homeostatic film of Korine's I have ever seen. THe plot was incredibly unique and let's just say I cried a lot. A friend told me he didn't like the film. I tend to avoid most people's critiques of films I am drawn to because I usually disagree with them. This isn't always, but some of the time. Even people who seem to share the same taste in film will sometimes have a much different opinion. This happened when I went to see "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" with my close friend, Erik. He loves Harmony Korine, so we have that in common, yet where I LOVED Diving Bell, he LOATHED it.
In other news, I went to a pretty swell restaurant for brunch with my pal Sally today. It's called Old Devil Moon and it's on E. 12th between Avenue A and B in Manhattan. Its a Creole and Southern-themed restaurant and their decor alone would have me coming back. The food was pretty ok, despite my coffee's below lukewarm temperature and my homefries cold to the touch status, yet overall it was a great experience. The walls were painted red on bottom and yellow with handpainted stripes on top and were laden with framed "art" of all sorts. There was a tarantula in a frame, a painting of a horse, some really beautiful Victorian-looking ladies, a terribly incorrect perspective painting made with thick lines , and some really kitschy artwork. The booths were the type you sink into and feel as though you have your own little space within the restaurant and the waitresses were supernice. They were also that downhome shit-kickin, curse-mouthed, and hairy armpitted wonderwomen you would definitely find in Creole hotspots. Not everything was perfect at Old Devil Moon, but then again, it wasn't projected to be. Would you complain if your Southern Granny served cold coffee and hot eggs? Nah. You'd enjoy the company, the atmosphere, her kind smile, and her thwack at the flies buzzing near the door (and the cheap prices if she charged ya). One thing I kept saying to Sally was that I wished I had brought my camera. But then again, Grandma, I'll be back ;o) After the food, we walked around a bit and who walked by you ask? Julia Stiles. That actor, you know her. 10 Things I Hate About You, ... I elbowed Sally as she walked by... a little too hard. (Sorry Sally). Picture time! ( two new DEZigns for Love Brigade)
<3 have a great weekend.
May 1, 2008
HAPPY MAY! Wowee it's going to be warm soon and guess what that means? Body boarding!
Also wearing dresses and flip flops and getting a tan and drinking lemonade or chilled white wine with strawberries. (I don't think I actually do any of those said things.) Maybe I'll start.
So I have been thinking a lot. The economy is b-a-d. Therefore, things need to change. I am going to start making less expensive (i.e. more egalitarian) clothing and bags and art. Really, it should be about necessity and happiness, not lust or making for the sake of making. I don't make for the sake of making, I really enjoy doing what I do and have all sorts of ideas for what I and other people would like to adorn their bodies with. Even so, I need to crack down and allow for lower prices for all. Making dresses that are two hundred dollas is a form of art for me. They take a lot of time and detailing and I am proud of their transcendant nature, yet very few in this world can actually press the "add to cart" button comfortably. So, with summer comes egalitarianism for anyone who supports or follows my work. Whatdya say! That also entails vintage, recycled, and upcycled materials, as per usual. 
April 30, 2008
May is coming. AUGHHHH. I biked all around Northwest Brooklyn today to do some errands and my oh my is it nice out. I started making a ton of tote bags to stock Love Brigade CoOp with... Here's me screenin'.
My friend Asher and I are working on a secret project for silkscreening in the near future and I'm extremely excited about it. This project has been dwelling in limbo since June 2007, so come on now, us! Good things are underway here at my studio and plans for new drawings and silkscreens are in the queue. I want to watch more movies. Wish I had timeeee. Tonight at Anthology Film Archives in Manhattan, there is a final showing of a Jonas Mekas film. For those who do not know, Jonas is yet another 1960's prolific auteur who has been called "the godfather of Avant Garde cinema" hailing from Lithuania after WWII. He studied with Hans Richter, a multi-media-rich DADA artist. He was heavily influential in painting, drawing, and film during the DADA years and collaborated with a whole slew of the best of the best.
His credo -- "the artist's duty was to be actively political, opposing war and supporting the revolution"-- dictated his work. Anyway, Jonas Mekas studied under him and went onto open the Archives, as I said. He worked with such names as Andy Warhol, Nico, Allen Ginsberg, Yoko Ono, John Lennon, Salvador Dalí, and George Maciunas. Yeah.
I had the great pleasure and good fortune of meeting him last year at a showing of a film starring Donovan, one of my favorite musicians. In addition to meeting Mr. Mekas, I met and drank wine with Donovan whose face and hair was made just slightly dusty by age. Jonas Mekas was a spry old man whose demeanor towards Donovan was so indicative of pure adoration, I feel voyeur to what looked to be the realization of an adolescent dream. The star was starstruck. Both of these people are nothing short of incredible. I hope that people living outside of NYC know of the Anthology Film Archives. It is a venue of the obscure and timelost and sometimes mediocre, yet influential. I have seen a few films I might have fallen asleep at if I hadn't tried very hard to remain engaged with, yet the films are unabashedly offered as works of art, be them lackluster or dry. I am sorry to have missed seeing the films of Norman Mailer before his death. I am certain Mailer was present at the showing. I had tried to make a night of it for my old boyfriend, but we got inebriated and full of delicious Chinese on the upper West side and couldn't make it down in time. Stupid.
Anyway, I ask that if you live in NYC or are visiting, you check out Archives on 2nd Avenue and 2nd Street and maybe you'll get to meet Jonas Mekas too.
April 28, 2008
It's been raining in New York all day. I made the mistake of wearing a wool hood and no socks out on my bike. P.S. my bike's brakes are nil in the rain. I almost hit a car hahaaaa.
April 27, 2008
Woops it's been a while. I got a new computer and had to wait to get all my info and such onto it...
I have added a few more things to my Etsy Shop and also have been laboring over some items heading to Love Brigade Coop, a collective in Williamsburg Brooklyn. I'm going to add some pictures for real!
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The first picture is a new blouse I just made called Staralfur Blouse. It took several hours to construct and I am quite pleased with it. You can see its Etsy listing here. So did anyone read the NYTimes article about military advertising geared towards women because of the lack of women enlisting? They've been throwing ads into magazines like SHAPE and SELF. I suggest you read the article if you haven't, as they also mention ads from past Marine Campaigns targeted to women. I think they're extremely telling of our current and past takes on women and their role in combat and nationalism. I love seeing how this propaganda of sorts shows direct lineage to women's views of themselves and their roles in that said time in society as well. NYTimes interviewed a 17 year old woman who was preparing to enlist as soon as she graduated from high school. Her driving forces were a brother in the military whom who looks up to and an eager desire to prove herself among men. I know that as someone who grew up rather tom-boyish and competitive with an overzealous desire to keep up with boys, these feelings are ubiquitous. We might like dainty things, but don't think we won't take these delicate dresses out to play in the muck and rain. I'm feeling lackluster here and don't have much more to say, so I'll move on.
The bottom picture is a view of the building that houses my studio in Brooklyn. We're right on the ocean. I love the water and waves and I can be sure that a hell of a lotta people had no idea parts of NYC looked like this. I didn't either until about a year ago. I love it. New York has so many secrets. I like uncovering them little by little. I'm sure, just as a house you grew up in can bring surprises and covertly placed treasures throughout your lifetime, so too can a city you inhabit.
April 16, 2008
I have been screwing around with my website for a few days and have no idea what to do with it. (I'm waiting on a friend's new design for me. Four years ago I started teaching myself how to make my own website and I swear this thing has had over 100 different looks. Still, I'm not happy with it. I wish it were easier to cut and paste things. I guess I'm too hands on to deal with code and all that. Anyway, I have one more piece to add to my Spring Collection 2008 shop and then it's onto Summer! WEEEEE Here are some photos of things I like, as blogs with photos are so much better than those without. I usually don't even read text. HA.
http://www.desirapesta.etsy.com
I have been working a lot of 16 hour days to finish this collection of solid works. (FOR MEN AND WOMEN) With a large reliance on ruffles, Circus collars, stripes, disparate hues, and hand-painting. This is all very exciting. Quoting the circus, film noir, and my love of Iceland, I make these Spring Things for you. Small runs of only ten of each item. Perfect tailoring and craftswomanship. Here goes. I have eight items up so far and there are about 8 more to come. They will go up within the week. Lots of printed dresses and t-shirts for all will be coming, as well as some surprising delights featured my delicious huge Circus collar and vintage fabrics.
In this blawg, I will also realy fine facts and mind wanderings to you and yours. I miss writing and so, I will do it more often.
Now I will tell the tale of my experience in the hospital on Thursday.
So, I have a bad case of celiac disease, which is not well-founded, nor does anyone, but those who have it, realize the complexities and woes it is. It's not a matter of avoiding wheat and gluten....it affects your entire being and all of your actions. Anyway, I could go on forever. So I have been feeling bad/sick for the last few weeks and was getting concerned I had a terminal illness. I therefore checked myself into St. Vincent's E.R. I figured I would have to wait the normal seven hours it takes in an e.r. to be seen, but I was taken right in, much to my surprise. OK, so you know how New Yorkers live their lives on top of complete strangers and share 45 inches of butt room on the train with three others, et cetera et cetera? The same, goes in the hospital. I was taken into a large rectangle with bright white lights that reflected blindingly off of the pearly whites of the floor tiles. There were large hospital scrub blue curtains dissecting the patient areas, but these curtains hardly closed and we were all sharing our illnesses in the same room in the same paperthin uniform on the same stretchers, awaiting our prognoses and/or examinations just inches from each other. I stared at everyone in the room while propped up like a stuffed animal on a hyper-extended bed in my thin dressing gown with an exposed back. The man diagonal to my right was around 60 and stuffing his face with food from a styrofoam container. (Keep in mind that this man would be stuffing his face from this Mary Poppins Bag-like interminable supply of food container for the next three hours I was here.) Directly across from me was a Hispanic woman who was lying flat and still, never once lifting her head. Diagonal and to the left was an elderly man who two nurses were festering over. They couldn't plunge a needle into a vein without it popping back out. For twenty minutes they plummeted into his circulatory system foraging for an accepting vein to no avail, while his head turned to his side searching for a distraction with a bitten lip. I stared at him in distress, I wished he would find comfort in my rooting for their success. Either they gave up, I got distracted, or they managed to do their thing, but I moved on. A svelt and petite Asian woman sat on her bed staring straight ahead of her. None of the fluttering doctors or nurses took notice. Her oval glasses framed her eyes and her limp grey hair hung at both sides like bookends, and I'm not even trying to be poetic. Two shifts of hair bookended her head. She is still for quite some time. I needed to use the restroom and so I go around the corner and slide inside. The door must have been designed for security and safety purposes because it opens both ways and to close it, you have to find its perfect middle and locks it fast. While inside I realize that the gap between the door and the doorframe is about 2.5" wide, which allows the doctors and receptionist outside, a nice view. I try blocking it with my cloaked arm. I return to my stretcher, the hole while feeling a bit out of place.
A very young, pretty, and tanned nurse in a brilliant blue green uniform came to my side. She had a nose ring and transcended her gender in demeanor in a way I admire in a lady. She asked me what was up and why I was here. I told her about the pains and pangs I had been having and she nodded and prodded me with more questions. She then proceeded to lay out her own empathetic tale that mirrored my own involving her, her intestines, stress, quitting her job, and the disappearance of said intestine woes and said stress with said job. I liked her. She was a cool nurse. Bedside manner, AOK, A++. Another youth came to my side, yet this one was younger and more stern. She introduced herself as a P.A., which my mind automatically translates as Production Assistant, yet done once more is Physicians Assistant. This lady had something more to prove than the first nurse. She had mousey hair and under her scrubs I imagined there was a Crystal Method tshirt and a tattoo or two involving faeries or Metallica. I think I know her kind. She asked questions more hurriedly than Nurse One and threw out medical erudition to prove her intelligence. "Yes, I am anemic.""This has been going on all of my life, yet it's been this bad for two weeks". She didn't seem to listen. I think she was challenging my self-diagnosis of celiac, as doctors and medics tend to do. You know, brushing things off as psychosomatic, or stress-related, or "a muscle". Sorry, sister, this shit's the real deal, it ain't no flu. Alright, they take notes and leave.
The action begins. In wheels an ancient 70 pound woman wailing. Looking at her face, I shrink into my bed. She looks to have been hit by a two by four across the face. Poor Poor Poor poor POOR dear! She lays still for a few minutes and I examine her purple and haphhazardly bandaged face from afar. Then she starts moaning. A doctor walks by and she calls to no one, "I have to pee". He cames closer to her and she says, "I have to pee, please take me to the bathroom". Her accent is so clearly representative of a lifetime in Manhattan , I don't know what else is. He says, "Hold on". She grabs at his hand and says, "What!?". He leans into her and half-yells what he had said in a very diffident tone. What an ape. She starts getting flustered and says, "I don't want tooo die (dy-eh)". Leaning in he says casually and uncharismatically, "You're not going to die". The word 'die' seemed to upset her and she starts to starts to cry in small spurts and repeats that she needs to pee. He ignores her and moves away. More people are brought in and she starts screaming, "I don't want tooo dy-eh. I don't want tooo dy-eh." No one takes notice. So the nurses come back and I get lots of fun blood stuff and an i.v. I used to always faint whenever there was a needle about as a kid, but in recent years, I have been able to stop psyching myself out. I breathed and talked to the nurse. Anyway, I sat longer and decided that even though I wasn't as sick as everyone else, nor as old, I would lie down, as I hadn't rested in quite some time. (Again, sixteen hour days and such) Things happen and time passes and I am pushed from side to side of the room while new stretchers come and go. At one point I was right in the middle of the room and was continually pushed out of the way so doctors and nurses could scoot by. I felt kind of like I was in a rowboat. Finally, in my last position in the room, I am pushed to the far back. The old woman with the marred face, who I had learned through eavesdropping and overhearing, is 97 and was in a taxi with her girlfriend when it hit another cab and threw them into pain, is pushed beside me. She had broken her nose and her friend had broken her leg. A nice young woman had come in looking for her and had a permanent look of worry ironed on her face. She darted to and from the woman for the few hours I spent with them. She spoke kindly into Jeanette's ear, as opposed to how the indifferent doctor had earlier. After she left, the old woman started screaming, "I want to die, please let me dye-eh". This went on at shrill and steady volumes for ten minutes at a time. All the while I sat in my stretcher bed next to her, not knowing what to do. I looked at her stark white shoulder that was about 4 inches in diameter. She was so so so small. I looked to my left and smiled nervously at the woman bedded next to me who spoke no english and was in the e.r. because of some heart palpitations. Finally, after three and a half hours of waiting in this bed, I am handed my discharge diagnosis paper and given the ok to go. The paper reads: Prognosis: Gastreoenteritis (a virus that lasts two to three days). What a waste of time physically, but mentally what a social voyeur trip! I said "Buena suerte" to my non-English speaking bedmate and left the chilly madness for the street.
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