- 147 days ago by Amanda Chatel
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Not everyone can be on time with their Christmas gift. If you’re going to be late with it, at least make up for it in originality and glitz. More
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Not everyone can be on time with their Christmas gift. If you’re going to be late with it, at least make up for it in originality and glitz. More
But, as with every other website or app people get incredibly pissed off about for a week after an update, I sincerely doubt there will be anything changed by this almost-outrage. Call me pessimistic, but our generation isn’t exactly known for its attention span. More
“Do you wanna step on my balls?” Seriously. Do you? More
If you’ve ever read The Yellow Wallpaper, chances are you already have a terrifying vision of that room permanently etched into your brain, but it’s always neat to see someone else’s take on it, no? Artist Julia Callon has created a series of dioramas that accomplishes that and more. For her Houses Of Fiction series, Callon attempted to replicate the interiors from various works of 19th century lady-literature, spaces which, due to their protagonists’ confinement to the domestic sphere, had great (usually deleterious) effects on their psyches. “The dichotomous representation of women — mad or sane — is crucial to represent in this series,” writes Callon in her artist’s statement. “Therefore, each story is presented as a diptych: one image represents the passive, subservient woman, while the other represents ‘madness.’” Word. More
Living with HIV is a frightening prospect, but millions of people do so every day. For some, the stigma accompanying their status is even more terrifying: people can be cruel, demeaning and afraid of those with HIV, treating them as though they are less than human or that they are to blame for the condition. Photographer Edo Zollo seeks to change these misconceptions through his series, “Stand Tall, Get Snapped.” More
The people who make thousand dollar underwear will probably disagree with me, but one of the defining characteristics of a “luxury object,” as it were, is that it’s not all that useful, or at least not useful enough to justify how much it costs. Artist Jeremy Hutchison took this idea and ran with it, creating an assortment of intentionally useless luxury objects to illustrate his point. “True luxury has no function,” he tells dezeen.com. “It is not something to be used or understood. It is a feeling: beyond sense, beyond logic, beyond utility.”
The objects will be sold at a pop-up shop at London gallery Paradise Row, where I can only guess they will go for much more than they would if they were just regular, useful objects being sold at Walmart or wherever. Does this undermine or further reinforce Hutchison’s point? You be the judge. More
Hurricane Sandy came and killed my old rug. More
Look, I don’t think ‘moist’ is a gross word. I just don’t. I think you’re being ridiculous about this. Look. All of these. ALL OF THESE ARE MOIST. More
Ten years ago, a Washington, D.C. based artist named Bryan Lewis Saunders undertook the foolish and heroic task of painting self-portraits while under the influence of pretty much every drug you can name, and probably a few you can’t. He’s since stopped doing so many drugs, but he did feel the need to try bath salts when they came onto the scene, so the rest of us wouldn’t have to. Most of these self-portraits aren’t new, but they’re nifty, and I bet you haven’t seen them before. They will either make you really want to do drugs or really not want to do drugs, depending on your constitution. Personally, I find some of the portraits pretty appealing and others vaguely terrifying. Drugs! More
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I first met The Painter in my interview. I knocked on the door of her apartment and heard someone shout “come in” over loud vibratos of Edith Piaf. Cigarette smoke was practically seeping out from beneath the door. I opened the door, and through the dense puffs saw an elderly woman with thin orange hair, a Chinese silk robe, and a red Solo cup in hand. Brown lipstick was smeared all over the bottom half of her face, and her breath smelled like an odd combination of vodka and sherbet. The walls were covered in enormous paintings of planets, which I later learned were called “Spacescapes.” And the place was a mess. More
Q: Why can’t I stop staring at these? A: Because they’re cool as shit. More
The woman in the photo doesn’t seem to think so. More
“You’re in a freezing cold, 5 x 5 room with four other women. There’s a padded bench, that’s just enough for three of you to uncomfortably sit on, a toilet, and a sink that doesn’t work. When you want to use the bathroom, the other girls line up in front of you to screen you from the male guards who are walking past. For food, we got four slices of stale bread, a packet of mayo, and two glasses water. I loved my cellmates- they were funny, proud, wicked smart, brave, kind women. We would sing songs (which got us threatened with being locked in the tombs) and applaud when each of us were released. There was a lot of solidarity and trying to comfort each other.” More
Dear pervy statues: you can be naked all you want, if that’s your thing, but you can’t “sext.” If you do, you will be kicked out of the park and demolished behind the closest building. More