The Coquette
September 2011
28 posts
People C'mon
Delta Spirit
People C’mon - Delta Spirit
Totally watched a dude have a seizure tonight. I think I need to drink whiskey this weekend.
My Body's a Zombie for You
Dead Man's Bones
My Body’s a Zombie for You - Dead Man’s Bones
Wait. He’s in a band that sang with a children’s choir? Ugh. My schoolgirl crush on Ryan Gosling is reaching annoying levels.
A Real Hero (feat. Electric Youth)
College
A Real Hero (feat. Electric Youth) - College
This will blaring from my open windowstonight as I drive through the streets of Los Angeles.
Nightswimming
R.E.M.
Nightswimming - R.E.M.
Call me a sappy bitch, but half the cheerleaders at my high school lost their virginity to Automatic For The People, and I still have all their shit on CD. I’m not gonna miss R.E.M. any more than I miss my innocence, but still, this band was part of my adolescence, and I appreciate that.
Not In Love (feat. Robert Smith)
Crystal Castles
Not In Love - Crystal Castles
Hmm. Tonight at Hiro?
New York Fashion Week
The seventh day. The looky-loos are bored, the tourists are at their day jobs, and the only ones left in the room are the professionals. It ain’t a crowd of working stiffs, but you can tell most of these folks would rather be sipping champagne somewhere else.
The shine is off the apple here at Fashion Week, but that’s a good thing. Every bitch in the room wore her best outfit last night at Oscar de la Renta, and today it’s all comfortable shoes and ponytails. It’s like the entire event exhaled and let out its gut a little bit. Even the smiles on the PR girls seem more honest.
I’m headed to the Nanette Lepore show in a moment, but for now I’m content to sit and watch the Michael Kors crowd put on a million dollars worth of sunglasses and shuffle towards the exit in search of brunch.
It ain’t over yet, though. After this, I’m off to the Jeremy Scott show where I expect to see some hipster high-fashion fuckery.
Run Like Hell
Pink Floyd
Run Like Hell - Pink Floyd
Oscar de la Renta runway tunes.
Eleanor Speaks (Caribou Remix)
Oh No Ono
Eleanor Speaks (Caribou Remix) - Oh No Ono
This shit should be playing in every NYC taxi as the sun sets.
New York Fashion Week
Sunday. The city is made entirely of velvet ropes and police barricades. There are gatekeepers everywhere, publicists and NYPD, an army of clipboards and radios in a uniform.
In the streets, they’re doing spot checks of every box truck along 9th Avenue looking for terrorists. In the tents, they’re doing spot checks of every backstage pass looking for crashers.
It’s a time and place that relentlessly demands you justify your existence. It is both frivolous and serious, and there is enough free floating narcissism and paranoia in the air to choke out all the oxygen.
That’s okay, though. It kinda gets you high.
