1986

I wasn't born yet, but god, what a year.

Today not one but two of my co-workers compared me to Molly Ringwald, specifically Pretty in Pink Molly Ringwald. Geez, no arguments here. Will you look at the color in this movie?





This sneak preview looks and sounds like it came out in 1986, and it's all about the clothes! I love directors like John Hughes who understood that the clothing makes the world of the film. This story would be half as interesting without these costumes. Besides, teenagers care about what they wear! It just makes sense that they'd give so many hero shots (vocab!) to the wardrobe. And Molly Ringwald always looked good. And totally nuts, and totally 1986. Enjoy!



Anyway, why stop there? I can't! Marilyn Vance* designed all these costumes and she knew what the fuck was up. (She also designed other Hughes classics The Breakfast Club and Ferris Bueller's Day Off, before going on to Pretty Woman and Die Hard 2!)



Check out the babe from Ferris! I tried to find a jacket like this in Chicago for years, but as the laws of thrifting go, I won't find it until I'm not looking for it anymore. And those shorts with the skinny belt. Those are all over my April 2010 Vogue, and that is no lie.



I love the idea of designing for movies like Ferris and The Breakfast Club because the characters don't change their clothes at all throughout the course of the story. What they're wearing has to say way more about them as a result, and it seems like they really start using their costumes more in the development of the character. Emilio Estevez is always messing with his letterman's jacket, or the ties on his wrestling hoodie. Anthony Michael Hall wears a Bears hat because his mom makes him. Molly has fancy leather gloves. Judd Nelson. God, Judd Nelson owns those boots and the twelve jackets and the denim vest-on-top-of-flannel vest combo. By the end, Ally Sheedy has pared down her bag lady layers and is wearing a feminine white blouse and eyeliner. I mean, Marilyn Vance really nailed it. These looks are lasting. Literally, everyone in this photo represents a style I've seen in my neighborhood. Recently. She was just designing ICONS!

Anyway, 1986. A good year.


A



*LIZZIE? Are you related to Marilyn Vance, too!?

Paradigm Soundsystems

HEY GUYS!



There's this rad new biz in Chicago. They are called Paradigm Soundsystems.

They make stuff like supercozy knit goods that keep your neck really, really warm on your own personal pizza & movie night, or any night, really. They also mask looks of disgust on your face when you are watching Cider House Rules.

Word to the wise: Cider House Does Not Rule. Dark Crystal, on the other hand...

park days

You should have gotten the Sonic bar, Lizzie.

dangerously inspirational

In an attempt to escape all of the should-be-doing's of tonight (like most nights) I've been perusing fashion, vintage, DIY and all around interesting blogs - from people just like us! A few weeks ago I came across Scalpture, a blog all about hair! The inspiration! Maybe even for the scarier, as I've recently cut my bangs at a strange diagonal. What a girl will do when bored/inspired/curious/daring. I can't quit my day job, so I'll just show up looking like what I'd like to be doing.

This photo comes via Scalpture via Hob Salon....I'd like the nerve to turn out something like this.

L

Nothin but net

Samstag Needs to Collage More

family time

Whenever I get home to Chicago, and I'm bouncing all over the place trying to spend equal parts of time with my parents in the suburbs and my brothers all over the city and my best of friends in Wicker Park and some acquaintances that are fun to catch up with and the nice, all-grown-up neighbors I used to babysit and Lake Michigan, no matter what the season, and my favorite breakfast spot (which is a tossup between Victory's Banner, lovingly referred to as Cult Breakfast, and Kopi, and maybe The Handlebar, too) and sometimes also the Village Discount in Andersonville, I always try to set aside a few hours to go through photo albums.

It's sort of strange, really. I've seen them all a million times, and it always feels so new to look at them. It's inspiration, sure, but gives me a distinct feeling in my gut, too. Images just help me get things.

In my parents' basement, in floor to ceiling shelves, my mom has organized the albums chronologically. Some of them are these really rad old leather boxes with gold lettering, some are in fabric-covered super-90s books, and some are just scrapbooks. My mom has dated and commented on almost every photo, which I will thank her for until the end of my days.

My favorites are from the late 1970s, right after my parents were married, to the year 1985, when my oldest brother Tim was a mere 4 years old. Sometimes I pilfer them, especially the old square prints like these, to inspire me for awhile before I return them.

Both of these photos are so indicative of where I came from, I can't even tell you. The suburban lawn chairs, the grass, the act of taking a photo of taking a photo, people everywhere--arms and legs and hands and jewelry and sleeves and knees in frame, my uncle Jimmy triple-fisting Old Styles, my grandmother's hair, her clasped hands, her blouse, those plaid shorts!, the frisbee.



When I am old I am going to sit down, my grey hair flying everywhere, and get comfortable with my kids or the young people I love and remind them to document.


A