Thursday December 07, 2006
My blogging has been sporadic for a few months, so if you’re a regular reader and are tired of dropping by to find a whole bunch of nothing, think about signing up for an email subscription. I just set up email service from R-mail over there on the sidebar, which will deliver my posts to your inbox as they happen. I chose R-mail because it doesn’t require users to register. You just submit your email address and they send you an email with a link that you click to confirm your subscription and then you’re in. And every dispatch includes an unsubscribe link so you can get out whenever you want. So head over to the sidebar or submit your email address here:
It will be fun. We’ll all have lots of fun.
On a recent trip to Vermont, A. stopped by a Home Depot and picked up a bunch of paint chips from the Disney Color by Behr collection—a selection of interior paints inspired (somehow) by Disney characters. Now, color names (aside from Pantone numbers) are always silly, but some of these Disney-inspired tones are positively surreal, and even a little creepy. Names include “Happily Ever After” (a pink), “Get Goofy” (a mustardy hue), and “Fairest of Them All” (another pink). My favorite, however, is the shade shown here. It’s called “Mickeys Pants” [sic]. You can check out the entire mouse palette here.
Monday December 04, 2006
If you’re looking for evidence that rich people should not be allowed to congregate without appropriate supervision, look no further than the New York debut of Haute Living, the luxury rag that disappeared Eric Trump from its cover. Inside, you’ll find an account of interior designer Geoffrey Bradfield’s 60th birthday party, which included 30 waiters in livery and three models “painted as blackamoors, decorated with Swarovski crystals and ostrich plumes.” Blackamoors? Is that as offensive as it sounds? Actually, yes—by definition. There were people in blackface (and body) at this party.
At least design doyen Iris Apfel looks appropriately shocked by these human props, judging from this shot from New York Social Diary. (Although, truthfully, she looks like this in all the pictures.) Bradfield, a foreigner, might be forgiven for not fully appreciating this country’s checkered racial history—except that, well, he’s from South Africa.
[Thanks to A. for bringing home this issue of HL.]