A poem I liked

Sometimes a verse just keeps coming back to visit my thoughts. I read this poem in The New Yorker years ago, and thanks to Google, here it is.

Agua de Colónia

The sharp smell of cheap eau-de-cologne,
agua de colonia, will call it back:
every aspect of the lonely summer
in that other era, when I was young.

Watered pavements of narrow streets between
old buildings. Dim high-ceilinged cafés blue
with smoke from yellow-papered cigarettes.
The almost neutral taste of almond horchata
in tall glass beaded with moisture. I pressed
my wrists against its sides to cool my blood.

Molten sunlight through the shutter slats
corrodes the floor-tiles’ lozenges and arabesques.
Insomnia under a mosquito net.
My scent. My languor. My formal clothing.

- Ruth Fainlight
The New Yorker, February 7, 1994

Inspiration in a room

I saw this piece in the November 17 NYT Magazine blogs and thought, wow, this is one very soothing, pleasing, interesting room.

Beautiful textures in turquoise, grape and gray.

The best thing about it is, it looks completely accessible in that the effect of this decor can be achieved through well chosen upholstery, paint, and the right arrangement of one's actual possessions.

A harmonious palette makes challenging prints usable.

I love this room, I can't stop looking at it! I only wish there were more pictures of it in the article.

The Prisoner

Number Six makes his entrance.

One of my favorite TV shows is a short-lived, cultish series about an agent of a powerful secret organization in London who resigns his job without explanation and awakes the next morning in an insular place called "The Village."

Stripped of their individuality, the residents of the Village (who we infer have landed there for once knowing too much) identify themselves only as numbers, and cheerfully go about their routines in the Village's idyllic setting. Number Six, our hero, whose true name we never learn, is unable to accept his confinement and unsuccessfully attempts to escape by sea, air and land. Each day of his new existence brings conflict with his captors, who employ almost every means to extract the cause for his resignation.

"The Prisoner" (also recently remade by AMC) is a 17-episode series that ran from 1967-1968. Created by Patrick McGoohan and filmed in Portmeirion, Wales, the show is surreal and packed with symbolism that underlines the character's situation. It also confronts us with the notion that any society is, to some degree, a closed circuit and that we are all prisoners in some way.

Patrick McGoohan is iconic as Number Six: unflinching, steely and thoroughly committed to non-conformity no matter what punishments will result. Six's life in the Village is conducted entirely on his terms, the only issue is that try though he might, he cannot leave.

Always a lovely day in The Village.

The show also holds up as a vivid snapshot of late 60s style. The wardrobe, by costumer Masada Wilmot (who also did Space: 1999), reflects the tastes of the day with colorful umbrellas, crisp white pants, flat simple sneakers, striped shirts and brief A-line dresses, and of course, the famous piped jacket worn (with or without an ironic top hat) by some of the Village's gentlemen. All are dressed as if for a permanent country vacation, and there is little irony in that. The characters stroll, play chess, and divert themselves blandly, just so long as they do not resist authority, they want for nothing, not even the perfect mod minidress.

Justine Lord as "The Girl Who Was Death" - with Mary Quant compact.

Its retro appeal aside, the show is in many ways brilliantly ahead of its time, and has influenced many shows that came after: Twin Peaks, The X-Files, and Lost are only a few. McGoohan himself was at the time of production the highest paid television actor, and declined the role of 007 in a move truly befitting the "Number Six" character - he found the idea of playing James Bond to be too Hollywood, too corporate, too expected. And there was also the small matter of his refusal to carry a gun. But what fun it would have been to see him do it. Perhaps "The Prisoner" was a bit autobiographical after all.

McGoohan wears the piped jacket, one of the Village "uniforms."

Slim chance

I've been frustrated lately with my health regimen. I've recently increased my weekly hours at the gym, and yet it seems I'm only managing to hang on to what I've already got. This question is often on the minds of we who exercise a lot with the desire to attain a sylphlike, ethereal slenderness yet can't seem to predict the results: is it possible to exercise more and still gain (or not lose) weight? If so, why bother at all?

There is a common misconception that the increased poundage that often accompanies increased exercise is "muscle gain" but this is only rarely true, even if the exerciser devotes most of his or her time to popular anaerobic workouts like pilates, yoga and weight lifting, which are usually not sufficient to significantly alter body composition on their own, and have less slimming merit than higher impact cardio workouts (running, spinning, step class) as they burn far fewer calories.

However, increasing cardio activity can deceive as well: the added effort can contribute to the mindset that we have earned a dessert which far outweighs calorically what we have burned off (bringing us back to square one and beyond), or, on a physiological level, to enhance the ability of the body to hang on to water or even to hoard those same pounds that we would like to shed.

This illuminating article briefly illustrates this. In short, most yoginis (and probably most runners or spinners) won't likely look like Gwynnie unless they also follow her diet. (While it does not mention GP, it does emphasize the need to revisit your caloric intake if you wish to have results from your exercise routine beyond just feeling fitter.)

Just for kicks, from the Goop web site, here is Gwyneth's "detox diet." 800 calories a day, anyone?

GC

If you are very familiar with Vogue magazine, or you have already seen "The September Issue," then you know who this woman is.



No? Recognize her now?

(She's on the right.)

How about now, in her modeling heyday?

Grace Coddington wearing Nina Ricci, photo John French. England, 1965

If you have heard the name Grace Coddington, you are likely more familiar with her work than who she is as a personality.

She is the Creative Director of American Vogue, and it is her romantic yet spirited, and sometimes even very edgy vision that elevates a spread in Vogue to high fashion fantasy - miles above what might run in a different type of ladies' mag that has articles on 100 ways to wear a pair of black pants to the office.

A typical Grace Coddington photo shoot


...and another

Ms. Coddington has worked as the yin to Anna Wintour's yang since 1988, and although thanks to that devil book she is less well known than "the Wintour of our discontent," she is equally influential in setting the elite tone of the fashion tome, pushing back creatively against Ms. Wintour even as she lumbers about the Vogue offices in heavy sandals, her signature red mane frizzing about her face and shoulders. She is the top witch in the Vogue coven - almost.

A tribute to Grace featuring model Karen Elson


The real Grace Coddington, holding her own with Karl Lagerfeld.

Ms. Coddington finally catches some of the spotlight in the Vogue documentary "The September Issue" and it's great fun to watch this interesting creature of fashion at work in her most natural habitat.

The Horrors

I like these guys. We saw them at Bowery Ballroom in 2007 after buying their garage-y, punky, retro album, "Strange House." They played a 15 minute set, the most memorable part of which was the really really tall lead singer stepping down from the stage as if it were a step in a staircase, propelling himself to the bar at the back of the room, standing on it and guzzling half a bottle of red wine, which he then brought back to the stage and tossed open into the audience. It was pretty dumb but it worked for him.

Quoth the Horrors... dodge this bottle!

They're back this year with a new, shoegazey sound and we're excited to see them in October at the Music Hall of Williamsburg. We were extra nerdy and got our tickets months in advance. Hopefully they've got enough material now to play more than 15 minutes.

This video from 2007 showcases their attitude, musical style and dark, modish image.

Summer visited briefly

And this lovely, melancholy film by illustrator Jeff Scher perfectly captures its end.

Click here. Heave sigh.