Aren't these photographs by Vivian Maier incredible? Vivian was a nanny in Chicago who made over 100,000 images, which were never seen or recognized in her lifetime (full story and Lens post and Kickstarter project). A lot of the negatives were sold at auction after her death. Undiscovered secrets like these feel extra magical in an age of constant sharing.
{Images by Vivian Maier}
Perhaps it was because our road trip was such a frenzy of natural beauty and roadside BBQ shacks that by the time we arrived at Little America in Flagstaff the hotel seemed like a palace of design. I'd like to think it's not just because my senses had be flooded with mountain vistas and red checkered tablecloths that I noticed, and fell in love with, the (top to bottom) carpet patterns, old prints, chandeliers, vintage maps, room decor, bedspread and gauzy curtains hiding the Ponderosa pine forest. All this at 1980s prices. Amanda told me grand stories about the founding of Little America: how it was created as a family destination off of major highways where you could enjoy all of the comforts of home -- a turkey dinner, a comfortable bed, friendly American hospitality. Unfortunately there is a dearth of information on this totally charming chain (I even went to the gift shop and asked if there was a coffee table book on the history of the hotel and they looked at me like I was crazy). After our stay, I considered only vacationing in cities with Little America hotels. It is a national treasure.
We recently explored Los Olivos, Santa Ynez and Los Alamos (where Sideways was filmed). I know the right thing to do is gush about the ridiculous beauty of Los Padres National Forest, Philip and Cassandra's perfect guest house, Full of Life's scrumptious pizza, and the wineries along Foxen Canyon. But what I'd like to share most is the discovery of these miniature donkeys at Seein' Spots farm.
{Photos via Seein' Spots Farm}
I rarely follow fashion given that for the better part of the day I commune with black ink. But these two Paris shows, by Marc Jacobs (for Louis Vuitton) and Karl Lagerfeld (for Chanel), are jaw dropping. The first unfolds on an all white carousel. The second at the Grand Palais-cum-bottom-of-the-sea. Is this what all the fuss is about? Because if so, I think I get it now. Check out the Sartorialist's post with lots more photos.
{Image via The Sartorialist}
So about yesterday's umbrella, please note: the perfect curves between tips; the wooden and mother of pearl handle, and the way the tips fit snugly into a metal clasp at the bottom; the hand stitched, matching encasement around the runner; the subtle stitch anchoring the rib to the finished seam; the symmetry of stretchers and ribs; and, most importantly, the elegance with which it comes apart. (Also, this umbrella: with its gold, dusty pink and wood, very much reminds me of the Most Beautiful Wedding Dress in the World which Joanna mentioned today. I once inquired about the cost of this dress. It is exactly as expensive as you think it should be, times three. But worth every penny. My $4 thrift store umbrella is my stand in).
Today it was raining buckets in Los Angeles. I popped in to the UCLA bookshop where students stood in line for cheaply made umbrellas that fell apart moments after they bought them. Damp, disappointed girls scurried back in with a mess of metal and nylon. "Um, I literally JUST bought this and it's, like, already broken." The cashier would say over and over again, not looking up and gesturing to the bin of identical umbrellas, "Just grab another one." Clearly, this would not do.
So I went to one of my favorite thrift stores. There, I found the platonic ideal of an umbrella-- vintage, handsewn, with a wooden and mother of pearl handle. The sturdy, smooth, beautiful beige cloth snapped into a taut bloom. Until now, I was unfamiliar with this universe of umbrellas. I eagerly started writing the blog post in my head. "Sometimes, we come across an object we never knew could be thoughtfully designed..." I waxed on about the stitching and curves and craftsmanship.
And then Steve Jobs died today, and I could not help but think that these events were somehow related. Because the elegy I would write for Steve Jobs would also begin "Sometimes, we come across an object we never knew could be thoughtfully designed..." We fall in love. There is no other way to describe it.
I was five years old. I'd just moved to Santa Fe and my parents took me to a Radio Shack. There stood a square gray box, just at my height. It looked like all of the other square boxes save for a rainbow colored apple on its face. It was electromagnetic. "Gray. Box. Rainbow. Delight." To this day, when I pass that Radio Shack, my heart races like it was the site of a first date. You had me at the rainbow, Steve, and you've had me ever since.
Wherever you are, probably in a heaven or a universe whose beauty we can't possibly imagine until, like the umbrella, we see it for ourselves, thank you.
(And a reminder to listen to Steve Jobs talk about how calligraphy influenced Apple's design here.)
Style Me Pretty just posted fantastic snaps of Mira and Hal's beautiful wedding (photography by Love Me Do and event planning and design by the visionary ladies at Styled Creative). Check out all of the photos here. I love seeing how all of the signs and cards and digital files came together for the big day; the incredible tux worn by, I must assume, the father of the bride; and, most of all, the apparent love and affection between Mira and Hal. They win the award for being my most patient and understanding couple as their wedding coincided with my move out west. Thanks to all!
Every once in a while I will check to see what people are searching for that lands them on my blog. Wouldn't you be curious? I think of it as a snapshot of what people think of when they think of Neither Snow, and the picture is often fun and surprising.
What a perfect selection of desserts for an early fall wedding, no? And inspiration for diiner...
Yesterday, to celebrate Rosh Hashanah, we hiked Topanga Canyon's Eagle Rock. Above: I love the choice of Gothic stencils for this red coal can at the ranger's station; the careful vinyl letters on the mailbox; the seal of the peace offers (featuring a ship, a bear, a red-caped woman) and here is Eagle Rock itself. The friendly ranger told us about a helicopter rescue from the face of the rock a few days before, which you can watch on youtube here (things get interesting around minute 3:30). Eek!