A Twitter-like update

I’m working all weekend and it’s quite delightful – but has the unfortunate side effect of my being unable to blog. Or, eh, eat my dinner at home, or watch any TV. . . which brings me onto myself and Roseanne’s delightful new site, The Rosie View, where you can catch up with our views on d’telly as well as watch clips, comment and leave suggestions. Ain’t technology grand! Which also brings me nicely along to the quote of the day, as uttered (typed) by Katy Perry, who has lost her phone and is revelling in this feeling of being cut off from technology:

i’m so vintage, I feel so peaceful. No bbm-ing, no sms-ing, no aim-ing… a moment of zen. I’m where i say i am, i can’t text that i’m late.

Via Ms Perry’s Twitter. Again, ain’t technology grand?

I’ll be there in a flash

What I wouldn’t give to be in a flash mob! Seriously. Would be so amazing. Suggestions on a postcard. . .

Italians do it better

S, I forgive the suntan. And I think you were right about the swimming trunks; your underwear will do just fine.

This is what Dolce & Gabbana has produced – an underwear campaign using the Italian swim team (much more aesthetically pleasing, I’d like to note, than David & Victoria Beckham’s monstrous Armani ads). I don’t even know what that means, the “Italian swim team”. Does Ireland have a swim team? I doubt they look like these guys, anyway. That’s probably very unpatriotic of me but I care not! Swoon.

Via New York magazine.

The hour is late

And I’ve just returned from dinner with Ciara – cooked by me because she hasn’t got any pots. That all sounds very bohemian but it’s a bit more mundane;  she’s just moved into a great apartment on Thomas St and transporting her vast fashion collection got in the way of the culinary necessities. Soon, soon.

Post-dinner, we retired to Fallon & Byrne for fruit tarts (delicious but overpriced) and coffee (so-so and the same). I discovered that I can never go there again; Glen Hansard entered as we left, thus rendering the place far too hip and scenestery for me to be scene in. Another one bites the dust – I guess it’s back to the Bald Barista where I belong.

Afterwards we listened to some Marina & the Diamonds and talked homosexuality, Florence & the Machine and the Dublin “scene”. We also discussed my impending life change, which I will discuss tomorrow. Or maybe it’s not a life change, but a life un-change. As I said, tomorrow, tomorrow. . .

And now, for a musical interlude. G’nite, world.

How does one find one’s way out of a serious stylemma?

I’ve always had a keen interest in fashion, since I was old enough to buy Sugar and Bliss and make regular trips to Penneys, where I would hassle my mother for hours on end, asking her to buy me this, that and the other. I remember one particular argument about a pair of Miss Sixty jeans that she absolutely refused to buy me. Spoilt child that I was, I did get them in the end, on the condition that I was under no condition allowed to wear them to my school graduation. Yes, I was 17. For shame.

As I grew up, I went through various fashion phases. At one point, I wore headbands all the time, had my ears pierced in 10 places and was attired in a uniform of baggy jeans and slogan t-shirts. At another, I was all about the short skirts and Ugg boots. Hey, I never claimed to be revolutionary.

Ooooooh baby, I just wanna dance with youuuuuu. . .

I first came across Neosupervital a few years ago; some connection in my family knows the singer, and the name cropped up. I Googled, and I liked. Now, with a new single, Dance With You, out on July 10th, Neosupervital is poised to take the stage. Hints of Har Mar Superstar mixed with some kind of 1980s electronic pop fabulousness. . . Heard it on 2FM today and remembered that, really, us Irish ain’t half bad when it comes to the musak. (No, Bono, that is not your cue to write more of the exact same songs.)

Will post video when it becomes available; for now, check out Dance With You on Neosupervital’s MySpace.

Oh and check out 2007’s Now That I’ve Found It.

Night and Diaz

Whatever you say about La Diaz, she cuts a cracking figure in an evening gown; or in leather, with her hair slicked back, wearing thigh high boots. Madonna just got served.

Via Fashionista. From a shoot for V magazine.

Lily Allen, sometimes you talk a lot of sense

Men don’t think enough about the woman’s pleasure. I never go to bed thinking, ‘Great, I’m going to have an orgasm,’ but I think men do.

From the August issue of Elle, featuring the delectable Emma Watson (who looks less than delectable, unfortunately, on the cover – but fact is fact).

All you need is love

For some reason, Ciara has been lately gchatting me with various X loves Y combinations – love blogs, it seems, are some kind of new Web 2.0-induced phenomenon. The basic premise is this: X fell in love with Y and now feels the need to blog about it at least daily: what they did, where they did it and, usually, what they wore (is there some correlation between being interested in fashion and being a hopeless romantic?).

Anyway, today’s offering is Jen Loves Kev (it has its own website, not just a WordPress or Tumblr site which is, uh, interesting – perhaps it’s more romantic if you have your own url for your love?). I didn’t examine the site too much because the last one she sent me made me feel so nauseous, but I did stumble upon Jen’s post about their home, post-decoration. All I can say is: amazing.

You’ll know – if you read my blog like, ahem, you should – that I’ve been feeling a little like nesting lately. Not with like, babies or anything, but with furniture, soft cushions, nice rugs and bright wall paint and were I to paint my dream interior, it would be shockingly similar to Jen and Kev’s.

I especially love the lime green:

Not to mention the photograph display above the piano:

Obviously these photographs belong to, uh, Jen and Kev, I presume – and can be seen on their Flickr here. Photographs reproduced without consent but, I hope, with understanding of my efforts only to compliment and admire.

So my WordPress has gone crazy

And everything is displayed in tiny boxes, from the fonts to the tags to the sidebar. But. . . I kind of like it. I feel like I’m in the 1950s and possibly an episode of Star Trek, and Scottie is just about to beam me up somewhere amazing where I’ll get to taser everyone in sight and – unlike the time I actually played Quazar – I will emerge unscathed and go back to the bridge where I’ll push buttons and fly us at warp speed somewhere “no man has gone before”. Except obviously I want to be Beverley Crusher so I should probably be in the medical bay.

Also, it’s sunny outside and Bat for Lashes is on the radio. Sometimes life is good.

Go here to see the bone fide video. Hate embedding disablement.