Oy. Three months and counting totally counts as a capital-H Hiatus, right? If anyone's lingered, apologies for dropping off the radar entirely. Even I can't quite say what I've been doing that's kept me away from the computer (I've been on the computer).
But in that long span of time between the shearling jacket-under-peacoat weather of early March and today, when it cooled down ever so slightly, summer totally happened. And while I've most certainly brought out the old "goths in hot weather" standbys -- notably paper-thin, slowly unraveling Obesity & Speed tops, sheer black button downs, and shroudy dresses -- the heat advisory index also justifies silly colors like lilac. (Wait until you see me in THAT one, oh Internet.) And if anyone can point me in the direction of a good sheer cobalt blouse, I'd be eternally grateful. Or tell me where in New York Cushnie et Ochs retails. I've been itching for this dusty floral button-down since, like, October.
With the grave danger of smudgy eyeliner, I've even taken a major step back in the black kohl department. The above is a sadly grainy shot of me sporting NARS' Funny Face fuschia; since I've well mined the depths of purple and plum lipstick, pink is kind of a terrifying territory. What the hell's next? Coral?! (hey, why not blue? My '90s post was eerily prescient.)
Summer also lends itself well to pop music: namely, the solo debut of my favorite Girl Aloud, alabaster cosmetics entrepreneur, and ginger goddess Nicola Roberts. While "Beat of My Drum" proves that Diplo continues to beat the dead horse that is a Major Lazer sample (and I LIKED "Pon De Floor." And I also LIKE Beyoncé's "Run The World (Girls)." Loads. I just don't have to hear it fifty times), "Porcelain Heart" and the recently leaked "Dance the Rain" demo show definite, heartbroken dance-pop promise à la Robyn or Sophie Ellis-Bextor.
More of substance to come. I'm really jazzed for Northside Festival -- the widdle L Magazine baby's all grown up and getting Guided by Voices! I'll be covering the whole shebang over at Prefix, but I'm most excited to check out Iceage, who I can sloppily describe as a Danish teenage Fucked Up by way of late-'70s goths.
I always link people to this one. Partly because it's a genius little clanger, and partly because of the giant smile homeboy on the right is sporting. Would YOU deny that face?!