[Street Snapshot] I Will Never Be a Professional Street Photographer

I was on my way to Planned Parenthood, not to carry out my never-to-be-fulfilled Teen Mom fantasy, just saving some money on my health care budget; to which my eyes were immediately set on this lovely woman. I'm already a sucker for a girl with a Mia Farrow haircut, but even her clothes were reminiscent of the 60s casual elegance of Farrow sported during her career.

I think those are the people I admire most are those who don't try too hard to be impeccable but manage to be classic anyway.

Luckily I caught these snapshots quickly because she was (understandably) suspicious and probably assumed I was gonna stalk her or something. Maybe I'm destined to be a really uncomfortable paparazzo who brings vanilla wafers to the cars of the celebrities I'm trying to photograph. "I really, really need this job or they're gonna cut off my HBO!" I could see that happening.



Someday when I am comfortable with this (or meet someone who doesn't find me insane), I will ask what brands they're wearing a la Joan Rivers. Or a la Rivers Cuomo.

Monty Montage

CURATING MY LIFE TO LOOK ARTY AND INTERESTING IS GETTING DIFFICULT. I need pictures of garbage cans with pouty faces or something.

Franny packs and Zoo-ey

Despite my religious dedication to waking up at least after 2, I have friends who get up before lunch is finished. So I dragged myself up and went with my buds Danielle and Sophia to the Bronx Zoo on free Wednesday to sit with some peacocks while they sketched like people with their art degrees. I took pictures like a scowly tourist who almost has their art degree.

I'll let the photos mostly speak for themselves. Enjoy the photo bomb of cuddly and scaly animals.




It's Mardis Gras favorite, George Clinton!


Don't use flash on the animals! I did on the mice by accident that will shame me forever but luckily these guys didn't flinch much.

Bronze animal street cred.













I felt these pants were most appropriate for the occasion.

The difficulty with awesome print coat is getting one long enough or to match with whatever is sticking out. I'm usually guilty of ignoring that which drives my mom nuts but it's hard to argue if you're wearing all black.



So if you want to avoid the zoo's horrible crowding in the summer, the winter still has opportunities for (mostly) peace and quiet. Just bundle up comfortably with style still in mind.

Also insertminipromotion, cannon powershots may not be cool professional cameras but they're really good for trips like this.

Partying Like An Out of Work Rockstar

Other than my parent’s anniversary dinner last week to which I will reminisce on in another post, I’ve kept up a consistent schedule of waking up after 1:30 and watching That 70s Show in my underwear until the sun is almost ready to come up again. It’s like what I do in Chicago only longer than a weekend.

So of course I would have a rather low key New Years but instead of the usual Twilight Zone marathon, I actually left my domicile and hung out with my bff-in-Brooklyn Sophia. We went to my favorite greasy spoon in my neighborhood and then walked towards the park until the fireworks went off.

My Sophichka likes her coffee light & sugared and her face hidden by objects.

Under new developments of 2011, a deep abiding love for fried chicken has been learned. My meat repertoire slowly expands.

Your face will be captured for posterity or my name isn’t Carmen Miranda.

I realize both my bffs Camila and Sophia were better motivated to dress better after internships in the fashion industry. Employment: the sartorial saviors.

It’s weird how only a picture of someone’s hair can turn a picture into an emo etsy listing for braided headbands. But it’s at least not in a sun-kissed wheat field, right?

(Shirt: Vintage from my mom’s closet, Belt: Eugenia Kim, Pants: Old Navy, Boots: Vintage)

It’s distressing by how many pants I’ve been wearing lately, but I’ve been wearing these a lot since I don’t pack many clothes when I get back from Chicago. My mom somehow got them for 97¢

Even from across the nation we’ve been absorbing each other: she’s been getting rid of her jeans for skirts and I’ve been buying more pants.

Wish I had better photos of these snakeskin boots my mom just got me. Other than the belt and earmuffs, everything else is responsible via my mom. Showing good taste can be inherited.

I was channeling Sandra Lee at the drunken blackout tablescaping for Donna Summer’s mansion that nobody ever talks about. You know it would have to be serious if the Food Network wasn’t selling a DVD of it.



Personally fireworks don’t really interest me; I think something about things that are intended to be spectacles are too deliberate to be naturally magical. The real show is how people react to these tools of wonderment, the way they crowd together and find themselves so small in the grand scheme of things.

Blah blah blah, fireworks as metaphor for the new year and change. I’m not afraid of being sentimental, I’m just too lazy to commit to writing out the visual imagery, but you get the idea, right? Also it's kind of the day my mom was born so that sort of takes precedence. It definitely makes tracking her age easier.

I may not have washed my hair but got up and put on pants for all two of my readers. To me, that defines commitment.