Love, Technology and Happy Holiday Annoucements

Yesterday I found this in my inbox. Rosie and I lived a children's sized shoe box on the Upper East Side. She, a filmmaker, and me, at the time, being displaced from the music industry and a bit of a wanderer, we ate cereal for dinner and worked very random jobs together. Graveyard shift jobs. She has the best laugh, and an even better smile. I adore her so I couldn't help the water works when I opened this .avi extension:



Congrats, lady jane!

xo,
Marnie

defying the cochran

audrey on white, 2007

maybe later?

I give the places I have lived in far more press coverage than they deserve. Waverly Place has become my construction site, rebuilding the underbelly of that wicked and beautiful neighborhood, to my last home I shared with David. The place was completely falling apart. If I were to press my hand against the bathroom wall, I could conceivably push through to the kitchen. Water damage. Pipes bursting. 8 year old grey carpets. 12+ old institutional white walls the management never painted (and we were not allowed to paint). An airplane sized sink in the kitchen. Zero counter space. We had water, most of the time, but I don't even want to know what awfulness was in that beige liquid.
When we moved to a fresh space and I was buying furniture and painting, I noticed a very obvious trend: everything I bought was off-white. It was if I had decided that I was going to stick a vamp painted nail in the air to a place that could never wear white. So now we wear white in the fall, on through the winter, and it's quite liberating.
The point being, in some very grasping at straws way, is that when we own something that we call home, we can make peace with that past, or at least laugh at it. Because you can wear white in any season. And so now, my home will be clean, healthy and full of brightness. I'll eventually add color because I do adore a 64 color box of crayons. But for now, I'm wearing white after Labor Day and loving it.

elisa jimenez fashion show @ SPARC

Today my old Cobble Hill roommate, Mollie King, asked me to model for elisa jimenez's fashion show. Elisa said that my piece, or person, was about letting the rage out in a beautiful way. Hmmm. I had a hard enough time figuring out which side of the dress was up and how the fishing wire would hold up around my chest, but I got what the piece was all about. It was called "desert rainstorm polymorphic dressyiang with running lightening illusion dress underneath" (I don't make this stuff up; just copied it from the program). Really? yes, really.

Elisa has such amazing spirit, and what I love about people with good energy, is that they surround themselves with awfully kind (and talented) people. It's infectous; it makes you wonder why we somtimes choose to lead with arrogance, instead of kindness. I felt as comfortable as I do walking down my hallway. And I got to spend some time with glitter girl Mollie King. What more could a girl ask for on a Tuesday night?

Bravo, Elisa! Literally. You can catch Elisa and all of her wonderfulness on this season's Project Runway