you thought i was on a roll, react to the chemicals, and you've got a wish that was made of solid gold

"Slumdog Millionaire" is one of the most devastingly gorgeous films I have seen this year. Set and filmed entirely in India, the film defies the typical standards of Indian cinema -- who for the most part represent India as a highly stylized, colorful, rich country where everyone is well-dressed and tends to break out in song -- to show the slums of Mumbai (where over 60% of residents live) and the lives of people from there.

"Slumdog" tells the story of Jamal Malik, an 18-year-old boy from the Juhu slums of Mumbai who manages to appear on the Indian version of "Who Wants to be a Millionaire." The film covers his successful appearance on the show, intersplicing it with the many tragedies he endured during his life. He exceeds many peoples expectations as to how far he would get on the show, causing the show's host and police officer's to suspect he is cheating.
The film is the classic tale in the style of "Oliver Twist" or "Of Human Bondage" of a hardworking orphan who tries to make something out of his life despite the many setbacks he faces. At the core "Slumdog" is a love story, a rags-to-riches tale about a kid who spends his life just trying to get the girl.

louise brooks, louise brooks, you got her hair, you got her looks, lulu wants, lulu gets, burning eyes, skintight dress

My favorite silent film star (and inspiration for Katie Holmes's really ill-fitting haircut last year) Louise Brooks is what I consider to be the archetypal example of a flapper. Born Mary Louise Brooks in midwestern Cherryvale, Kansas in 1906, "Brooksie" (as her family friends called her) began studying dance at a young age before turning professional in 1922 and moving to New York. After dancing with different companies, Brooks joined the famous Ziegfeld Follies before pursuing a career in film.
She first made a splash onscreen as the vampy Marie in Howard Hawks's "A Girl in Every Port" in 1928. She followed up that film with "Beggars for Life" (also 1928) where she portrayed Nancy, an abused country girl who is on-the-run. Both these films established Louise Brooks as a talented actress, the latter film often being described the best film of her career. Other notable films include: "Diary of a Lost Girl," "Prix de Beauté," "Rolled Stockings," and "The Canary Murder Case." Arguably her most famous role was as Lulu in "Pandora's Box" (1929), a role that bore remarkable similarities to her own life. Despite her popularity and talent, Louise had a strong dislike of anything to do with Hollywood, so she would make only 24 films throughout her life. She eventually left America for Europe, appearing in German films with great reception, though she still felt foreign cinema was influenced by the repressive rules of the Hollywood system. She ended her acting career at its peak in 1938; her remaining years were spent travelling, writing, painting, and reading.
Gradually, as her interest in acting waned, her own status as a legitimate actress was eclipsed by her role as a fashion icon and personality. She became best-known for her signature bob haircut, a page boy-ish look that epitomized the flapper. She considered herself a "modern" woman, sexually liberated and independent. She refused to accept the oppressed position for women in society, often causing controversy due to her independent nature.

you don't look different but you have changed

Because I am pathetic and occasionally stalk models.com to look at girls far more beautiful than I, I came across this beautiful editorial from Numero Korea. The website describes the shoot's style as "soft and ethereal. With heavy bangs, retro styling and vintage style photography, [Suvi] Koponen calls to mind classic 60s era chanteuses like France Gall and Marianne Faithfull." I think their description is rather correct, the model's thick fringe and envious clothing is remniscent of Marianne, while the peroxide swept hair and kohl eyes is very trademark of France Gall's look. Even though Suvi Koponen is lightyears prettier than me, I enjoy looking at this shoot because it shows a (somewhat) realistic way to have the sixties in mind while still being modern.

so why on earth should i moan, 'cause when i get you alone, you know i feel okay

Just like I do with Pop Tarts, I go through cyclical obsessions with the Velvet Underground where I just listen to them nonstop. Currently I am going through one such cycle -- listening to "The Velvet Underground and Nico" to an almost obnoxious extent. Normally I wouldn't complain, but an incident at school today really just set me off. I was driving with a classmate of mine who I'm working with on a project (we were going to pick up supplies) and I had the album case laying in my car. She picked it up and -- laughing, mind you -- says "Oh cool I got a bag from Urban with this banana thingy on it too. I didn't know someone used it on their CD."

Okay, let me just list off my grievances:

1) She called the cover a "banana thingy." No, it's just a banana, clearly. No "thingies." Banana.

2) I hate when people refer to Urban Outfitters as 'Urban.' Blech.
3) She thought some random band just decided to use the "banana thingy." No hon, the sole purpose for the "banana thingy" to be designed was for this cover.
So in order to make this entry have some sense, I will try to draw some connections between what happened to me today and just some general annoyances. I guess the thing that that bugs me about this album is that it is so known by even those who have never heard any Velvet songs. Maybe that is obnoxious of me, but I really don't like when people claim knowledge over a subject that they just read a blip about in Rolling Stone or something. I guess this is because music is like this strangely personal thing to me -- I listen to music that I have this genuine connection/admiration/attraction to and I'm basically a five-year-old because I don't like to share that feeling with people, especially with people who don't really care about it anyways. To me, listening to music is the sort of personal connection one can get from writing in a diary. And just like a diary, I don't really like throwing my musical tastes into public forum. Not because I am ashamed (I passed the brief Hoku-and-Avril stage of my life many years ago). Maybe that's bad of me and I should be less possessive (especially over things that happened like thirty years before I was born), but I really couldn't help the urge to strangle the girl in my car today.
I'm not going to deny it -- the album (and Velvet Underground itself) is genius and very influential. I really like how they could pull off doing an album of songs that are basically of different genre types (compare the soft "Femme Fatale" to its proceeding track "Venus in Furs") without making it sound random and shotty. But where is the line between something being influential and something being over-exposed? I'm not saying that this album is at the point of being commonplace yet, but I do worry when a teenage girl cannot distinguish the difference between a mass consumer product and the original art it ripped it off from.

seventeen, a beauty queen, she made a ride that caused a scene

Easily and undisputedly the first and only supermodel, Leslie "Twiggy" Hornby brought the skinny look back in a big way in the late 1960s. She naturally had a boyish waif figure, but soon after Twiggy burst onto the scene in 1966 at sixteen years old, she had legions of girls dieting their ways to look like her. Her look -- a mod look that combined her boyish cropped haircut with her feminine features (played up with her signature Twiggy lashes) -- caused a sensation; her reedish thin body has remained the ideal for over the past forty years. By 1967, Mattel had released a Barbie doll in her likeness, and she had her own magazine (dubbed "Her Mod, Mod Teen World"), line of false lashes, lunch boxes, sweaters, tights, purses, and even a board game created after her famous look. By 1970, "the Twig" was moving past modelling, developing a respectable career in television, film, and theatre. She earned two Golden Globes for her portrayal in 1971's "The Boy Friend," and has garnered critical raves for her performances in "Pygmalion, " "Cinderella," and "My One and Only" over the years. Nowadays she is Leslie Lawson, and -- though she models from time to time -- she is content in a more relaxed life than that of her's during the sixties. She looks wonderful at 59 years old, her same gamine figure and light blonde hair, though she (sadly) no longer stencils fake lashes underneath her eyes.

Good Read - The Philosophy of Andy Warhol (From A to B and Back Again)

This incredibly funny and incredibly Warhol book, released in 1975, is more like a collection of quotations that just happen to relate to whatever the chapter is dedicated to as opposed to an actual memoir or story. But the brilliance of this book is that Warhol offers his succinctly ironic opinions on a number of topics (love, fame, fortune, sex, food, beauty, work, art, success, death), which in turn reveal a little more about this mysterious man. At times he seems to possess a naïve outlook of the world, at others he seems in on some dirty joke that none of us understand. For much of the book, he retains his stylishly aloof, über-cool attitude, only occasionally revealing to us his darker inner thoughts. Numerous times he refers to his 1968 shooting by Valerie Solanas, discussing his emotional and physical scars and his newfound awareness of his own mortality. It’s when he discusses this (either directly or indirectly) does Warhol offer startling real insights on the human condition. He describes his embarrassment of death and in terms of human perception, “it’s not what you are that counts, it’s what they think you are.” He discusses pop culture and celebrity in terms that make involvement or obsession with it seem understandable and beautiful. Throughout the book, Warhol includes fragmented conversations (most with Brigid Berlin) and short biographies of other people (written using aliases), such as the story of his former friend Edie Sedgwick, who he dubbed “Taxi.” This particular part of the book is especially revealing because as much as Warhol publicly denied being close at all with Sedgwick, in his writing of her, he says their relationship “was probably close to a certain kind of love.”
Even though his ideas and life seemed out-there for many conservatives, Warhol is just about as symbolically American as the Coca-Cola, Campbell’s soup, baseball, and Hollywood stars he made his career out of. As influential and masterful as his films and paintings, Warhol’s “Philosophy” of life may be one of his greatest achievements.

who could hang a name on you? when you change with every new day, still i'm gonna miss you

Here's an interesting tidbit I learned today: one-time "actress" and fashion "icon" Mischa Barton has recently designed a clothing/accessories line. Let me just start by saying that at one point in my life I worshipped the ground Miss Barton walked. She was incredibly gorgeous and wore beautiful clothing, so I was more than willing to overlook her acting limits on "the O.C." But then her character died (and the show soon followed), and my admiration of Mischa fell to the waste side as I discovered the genius of her contemporaries like Jenny Lewis and Alexa Chung. Honestly the last time I saw her was a few years ago, and I sort of felt bad for my fallen idol. She had bleached-blonde hair, wore a Fleetwood Mac shirt, high-waisted jeans, and a hippie headband --- items that in theory are perfect and should look incredible on her, but for some reason didn't work. Her hair looked so stripped and fried that it might break off, her denim was ill-fitting and came off looking something akin to Mom Jeans, and honestly the Fleetwood Mac tee made her look like she was saying “Hey, aren’t I cool and retro? I listen to bands like Fleetwood Mac, not that contemporary crap… See? ‘Cause I’m wearing their tee shirt.” Her seventies-inspired vibe looked artificial and forced, the complete opposite from how natural and jealousy-inducing Mischa's style was a few years before.

I have no clue what her designs look like --- maybe they are ingenious, inspired, lust-worthy, but for some reason I doubt it. Its not because I don’t think that Miss Mischa has it in her, but it seems like nearly all celebrity clothing lines do not truly translate their style (cough, cough Kate Moss for Topshop cough, cough), rather what the person thinks consumers will buy. But one thing that piqued my interest is that Mischa described her line as being inspired by Anita Pallenberg and Marianne Faithfull, which is pretty awesome, but she also described them as being "really cool women from the seventies" which kind of deterrs from my appreciation of Barton's inspirations. Maybe I'm just a baby or something, but these two fabulous women were doing stuff before AND after the seventies -- in fact, Pallenberg and Faithfull were really iconic during the sixties. And Faithfull was a bit more preoccupied with coke and not having a home to be caught up in fashion during the seventies, so unless Barton favors the rough-and-tumble street urchin look over the psychedelic bird looks of Faithfull during the sixties, I think she needs to look a little further into the lives of these two women besides the brief references to them made in every few issues of 'Vogue.' Alas, in remembrance of a look I once loved, in this post we celebrate Mischa Barton’s look in its prime (even if it is a product of Rachel Zoe).