Bold Faced Names, Stills

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

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. Continue reading

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Bold Faced Names, Life, Music, Stills, Words

Shake Yo Shimmy, Sister – RIP Maya Angelou

Chester Higgins, Jr./The New York Times

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.

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Stills

Kiernan Shipka Rocks Louboutins When She Rides a Bike

VF.com / Photograph by Williams & Hirakawa

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…

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by anne wilmott, Stills

Babel

couple-eternal-sunshine-of-spotless-mind-eternal-sunshine-of-the-spotless-mind-jim-carrey-kate-winslet-Favim.com-404671

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

I remember a game we used to play.

You would get on top of me and I would scream words that had no meaning at the top of my lungs. You screamed your own just as loud, the two of us like intimately positioned savages from warring tribes. Except if those syllables of Babel could be translated I would have known you were shouting you were on my side the whole time weren’t you, dear. Weren’t you?

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