L is for Lupita

Drop. Dead. Gorgeous.

Lupita Nyong’o can cross the cover of Vogue off her fashion It Girl to-do list.

Photographed by Mikael Jansson, Vogue, July 2014

What do you think of the decision to shoot this Brooklyn resident in Marrakesh? Me thinks I’ve caught a faint whiff of exoticism under the scent of marketplace spice. See the cover (and other shots) after the jump.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who Has the Baddest Brows of All?

CARA DELAVINGNE.  Credit: Vogue.com / Photo: Matt Irwin/Trunk Archive 

Vogue has 27 nominees for the title.  

Shake Yo Shimmy, Sister – RIP Maya Angelou

Chester Higgins, Jr./The New York Times

Miss Celie’s Blues (Sister)

Sister, you’ve been on my mind

Sister, we’re two of a kind
So, sister, I’m keepin’ my eye on you.

I betcha think I don’t know nothin’
But singin’ the blues, oh, sister,
Have I got news for you, I’m something,
I hope you think that you’re something too

Scufflin’, I been up that lonesome road
And I seen alot of suns going down
Oh, but trust me,
No-o low life’s gonna run me around.

So let me tell you something Sister,
Remember your name, No twister
Gonna steal your stuff away, my sister,
We sho’ ain’t got a whole lot of time,
So-o-o  won’t you shake your shimmy, sister,
‘Cause honey the Shug is feelin’ fine.

Say You’re My Lover, Say You’re My Homie

Song: Truth
Artist: Alexander
Album: Alexander

Play. Repeat.

I have been waking up with Truth in my head every morning this week which in turn leads to repeat plays during my new hour-long commute to work. The mashup above was enchantingly weird and awesomely paired with the music so I gave it top billing, but the official vid (directed by Tao Ruspoli) deserves your eyeballs too.

My favorite lyric:

Say you’re my lover, say you’re my homie.

Tilt my chin back, slit my throat, take a bath in my blood get to know me.

Would love to have written something that fucked up and beautiful. What lines stood out to you?

My Grace Is Your Savior

On the day that I saw you again for the first time
it was unseasonably warm and sunny and it was your birthday.
The backdrop was a small town, also from a former life
and the Hudson.
Trains moved goods and people to and fro, nearer and farther.
“Too many trains,” you said.

We Are Living in the Days Myths Are Made Of

This seemed relevant.

 

Dear Mom, This Is Our Mixtape

Mommie,

This is our mixtape. We are listening to it as we drive fast on back roads. Little thrills in our stomachs over the roller coaster of gentle country hills.

You are singing along, voice on the verge of breaking, as unable to carry a tune as you have always been more than able to carry all of us. I’ve picked all of the old familiar melodies and new songs I know you’ll be content to wade into, weightless.

And like it was years ago, before I knew there was a world outside of you, it’s the two of us. We’re listening more intently because we’ve made it back to the first song. It’s playing now.

Oh, the beat beat beat of our hearts.

Afternoon Catnip: Reese Witherspoon in an Elevator

Lots of chatter about these clips today, originally Instagrammed by Brit model Cara Delevingne, showing what goes on inside an elevator at the Met Ball. Gawker was very gawkery about them. Vanity Fair was sunny and breathless, like the nice, wide-eyed girl in a clique of cool girls–see, judging from the clips above, Kate Upton.

Here in no particular order are my initial takeaways. Feel free to share yours in the comments:

1. Reese Witherspoon is essentially Blanche Devereaux sans shoulder pads. The drawl, the cussing, the sass–all make her a lot different than her public persona and it thrilled and terrified me all at once.
2. Where are they going?
3. Drunkity drunk drunk drunk or other.
4. Zooey Deschanel, you’re my silly rabbit.
5. But where’s Lupita?
6. Kate Upton’s squealing “We don’t know!” at the end of the first clip may have replaced Kanye’s as the response in my head whenever someone asks a dumb/unanswerable question.
7. The elevator at the Met Ball is a lot like the girls’ bathroom at your high school.

Moving On Up, Part I: How I Knew It Was Time to Move

I moved last Saturday. This time on my own terms. Three years prior I’d run screaming from a lovely prewar Yonkers studio. It had beautiful moldings, gleaming hardwood floors and Satan’s mosquitos bedbugs.  

Kiernan Shipka Rocks Louboutins When She Rides a Bike

VF.com / Photograph by Williams & Hirakawa

Don’t you, troglodyte?

Vanity Fair’s recent Spotlight  is a perfect storm of several obsessions: Shipka, fashion fierceness, bicycles for people of leisure, and the open road. Surprised I maintained consciousness. If you click for the rest of the shots I’ve so thoughtfully provided after the jump have Jeeves keep smelling salts close at hand…