tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49837365669804212992024-03-04T23:27:22.920-08:00Curbside FashionLauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.comBlogger49125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-34571945124291997082014-11-06T21:44:00.001-08:002014-11-06T23:59:54.747-08:00Film Muse: Mysterious Skin<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>"The summer I was eight years old, five hours disappeared from my life. Five hours, lost, gone without a trace..."</i></div>
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- Brian Lackey</div>
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I'm not sure how to begin writing a Film Muse for <i>Mysterious Skin</i>. It's wintry, crude, passionate, powerful, and extremely honest. But in a way it is almost indescribable. If I would say anything I'd say that this film was really <i>needed</i>. To this day I still haven't seen a film that comes close to this subject matter. I don't think I would have treated movies the way I do now if I didn't experience this film.</div>
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Directed by Gregg Araki and adapted into a screenplay based on Scott Heim's 1996 novel of the same name, <i>Mysterious Skin</i> debuted in 2004. The film stars some of my favorite actors to this date: Brady Corbet, Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Michelle Trachtenberg, Elisabeth Shue, and Jeffrey Licon. </div>
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The story is about two boys who have to cross paths in order to find out the truth of what happened one night 10 years ago. Brian, a shy and perhaps emotionally stunted young man spends his evenings watching UFO shows much to his mother's dismay. He obsesses over this idea that we was abducted by aliens as a child, which would explain his blackout memories and strange nosebleeds. Neil on the other hand, a cold yet evocative teen, trades tricks for pleasures in the next town over. Brian determinedly sets out on a journey to find Neil who he remembers from his abduction dreams. As the viewer slides into the dismal ambience of the character's stories, it becomes clearer that this isn't a sci-fi film - but something much darker. </div>
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When I saw <i>Mysterious Skin</i> for the first time I felt like I was going to throw up. No gore or cheap tricks were used and maybe that was the most haunting factor of all. Instead, Araki chose to show the underbelly of suburban childhoods - the dysfunctional and presumably normal ones. He shows the missed moments that shape us all as human beings. </div>
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As disturbing as the film was I couldn't help but feel this mass amount of appreciation for it. It was like this huge catharsis washed over me the first time I saw it. There isn't any other film that I've connected with that truly speaks for those who's stories are forgotten and repressed. <i>Mysterious Skin</i> vocalizes these perspectives in such a delicate way. It touches on the moments as a child when you want to scream but feel too paralized to do so. It heightens the confusion, the yearning for others' attention as a child and how it translates into adulthood. The pure innocence of it all. </div>
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I had to revisit this film after I saw <i>White Bird in A Blizzard</i> (2014) directed by Gregg Araki in theaters. As some Curbside Fashion readers may already know, I wasn't a fan of the movie at all. Yet after much consideration I decided to go back and study Araki's movies to rediscover why I loved his work so much. I guess it was a coping technique or something. I thought maybe then I could see why I didn't connect with his newest film, to just have some piece of mind and to pay homage to those moments when I first fell in love with his work. </div>
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What I didn't realize was the similar soundtracks used in both films which instantly tied all of Araki's concepts together. Robin Guthrie (Cocteau Twins) and Harold Budd compile these <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUzyIrVbj0w" target="_blank">short melancholic songs that are dismal yet slightly understanding.</a> The heavy synth blends all of the emotions together, creating this ghost world of memories. The heavy bass lines ground the listener to each of its characters. It is unbelievably authentic and earnest. </div>
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The moody (for lack of a better word) soundtrack lays down the track for the emotional scenarios that ensue. Aside from the two main characters' plot lines, I couldn't help be attracted to their mothers' stories as well.<br />
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What is most disturbing for some is the lack of familial control. After all, it's parents' duty to protect their children from the monstrosities of the world and in particular we often see young mothers picking up the slack. Some single mothers like Brian's morph into cookie cutter types - donning teddybear sweaters and offering nighttime glasses of milk. Those mothers seem like they manage, but clearly there is a disconnect between Brian's mom and her son.<br />
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Other mothers can't deprive themselves like that, hoping that perhaps there is a silver lining to their circumstances. Neil's mother smothers him with kisses over Spaghetti-Os and gets Dairy Queen with his friends while he is away. She dances and sips on soda, wears red dresses. Although more seemingly unaware than Brian's mother, she is just as committed to loving her son as Brian's is. </div>
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In an interview I saw a long time ago, Araki mentioned these two mothers and how we framed them. It's almost as if the idea of blaming the mothers for what happened to the two boys was completely out of the picture. Araki painted it like they were doing the best they could have done, so it seemed. There is no negative blame cast upon them, instead just pure trauma and pathos. </div>
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I really happened to like Michelle Trachtenburg's character Wendy, too. The way she looks out for her friends (and also herself) shows this grander understanding of relationships. She loves Neil so much yet knows that she can't do much about his behavior. It is almost painful watching their friendship and its borderline abuse. Wendy is the only character that leaves their town, but she doesn't leave the trauma. You can tell it will always stay with her. She is sort of an old soul in that way.<br />
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Gordon-Levitt's character is a conundrum. Like Araki's other films (<i>Nowhere,</i> <i>The Doom Generation</i>) his character is of the broody and brash sort. He is like this tornado, sucking in everyone around him without care or remorse. For most people this kind of protagonist would be off putting, but Gordon-Levitt doesn't portray him that way. His visual language shows apprehensiveness and iced over passiveness. We all end up like Wendy a little bit, loving him even though we know we shouldn't.</div>
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Brain played by Brady Corbet was by far the most heartbreaking character. Innocence was never lost, he never became hardened like Neil and Wendy. The way Corbet translated his character's curiosity and fears was almost tearful. Playing such a character with that amount of tact should never go without recognition. </div>
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When Brian finally makes a friend we see him really smile for the first time. His eyes light up, kind of like an 8-year old's in an 18 year old's body. We see him progress so much, which makes the ending even more shattering than anticipated. It isn't fair.<br />
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Araki did <i>Mysterious Skin</i> with this elegance that is lacking a lot in today's film. I read somewhere that he didn't want to scar the child actors with the roles that they were playing, so he took extra precaution with the way he went about the process. You can tell that every character in this film was 100% committed to their role which is extremely refreshing. Brady Corbet caught my eye in a weirdly transient way, something about the way he photographed on film really connected with me. </div>
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There isn't a solid negative critique I could wholeheartedly write about for <i>Mysterious Skin</i>. Any director who can talk about the traumas that unfolded in this film in such a tactful way deserves a lot of respect. Even if you disregarded the plot entirely, the editing pace and visual artistic direction was stunning. Each scene was curated to a specific artistic look in a non-obvious way. There wasn't any showing off or useless information to be absorbed. The characters all acted together harmoniously and the soundtrack still haunts me to this day. I do have to mention however that if you have not seen this film, be mindful of its triggers because there are a lot of them in this film. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.</div>
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-Lauren Rose </div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-11423134311222580342014-10-11T11:30:00.002-07:002014-10-12T12:11:27.079-07:00You Don't Know Anything (Come In The Right Way)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
If there is one thing that I've learned this month - it is that I do not know anything. </div>
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And <i>you </i>probably don't know anything either.</div>
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For some, that last line could have stung a little. No one ever wants to hear about how much they don't know about something. After all, you've been in school for how many years now? It's embarrassing, daunting, and frustrating. That is, if you let it be. </div>
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<a href="https://twitter.com/LaurenRoseYT/status/515271440174571520" target="_blank">(Me and the squad of <i>American Beauty</i>)</a></div>
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I admit these posts have been pretty infrequent ever since I announced my tentative departure from Youtube. As a third year in college, my ass has been grass (to put it eloquently). I could write an entire essay about how tough juggling class, work, volunteering, and relationships are. But I won't. This whole thing is starting to sound a bit too flowery anyways.</div>
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What I'm getting at is that I've been happy. I've been happy about not knowing anything. I <i>welcome</i> not knowing anything. Still don't know what I'm talking about? Let's phone a friend then. </div>
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(stills from <i>My So-Called Life</i> created by Winnie Holzman) </div>
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Enter: Angela Chase with her newly dyed "Crimson Glow" hair. For those who are unfamiliar, <i>My So-Called Life</i> starring Claire Danes was this super meta teenage show that lasted from 1994-1995 for one (amazing) season. The story is about Angela Chase, a young girl just coming of age, dealing with friends, crushes, and all that is high school. What is extremely bizarre about the show is the narration by Angela, an open diary format if you will. Angela intricately questions the disparity between adults and teens, the complexity of relationships, and her frustrations of not knowing the answers. It is simply honest (and a little odd at first).</div>
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Cut to: me, sitting on my tweed apartment couch having my (first) mental breakdown of the semester. At that point in time, the days were beginning to blur as I constantly was working on some kind of class assignment (I was also paranoid that I was possibly getting mono?). After much internal debate, I decided to partake in one of those "self care" mantras and call in sick to my job. </div>
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I walked to Noodle's and Company and bought myself a healthy (healthy as it robust - not the size of my palm) takeout size of their Wisconsin Mac & Cheese with grilled chicken atop. With my mac & cheese in hand, I went back to my apartment, pulled out the plastic fork, and re-watched the first episode of <i>My So-Called Life</i>. </div>
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Watching <i>My So-Called Life</i> in college made me feel human again. I first binge-watched the show junior year of high school, thanks to my friend Layla who owned the box season. We laughed, we teared up, and then it was over in a flash. I never revisited the show again until I saw people mentioning it online. Why was it so compelling? Because I'm still asking those same questions that Angela asked, although now I'm just taken more seriously due to my age. I formed this holy bond with the T.V. show, blessing the creators for bringing it into our world.</div>
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(stills from <i>Blue Valentine</i> (2010) dir. Derek Cianfrance)</div>
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Then there was Derek Cianfrance - one of my favorite directors. I recently re-watched <i>Blue Valentine</i> (2010) and fell in love with story telling once again. <i>Blue Valentine</i> is a romantic tragedy, I'd say. It's the most honest movie about relationships and how they can fall apart. I don't know what really got me, the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kb8lOhz2xAU" target="_blank">Grizzly Bear soundtrack</a>, the cinematography, or the acting by Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling. </div>
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As someone who enjoys film excessively, sometimes it can be hard to watch something without trying to critique it. After all, how can we tell what's good in a movie unless we categorize and rank it?</div>
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<i> Look for continuity errors! Did they fumble on that line? How about that 180 degree rule, huh? Oh man, look at that plot structure! </i></div>
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Especially if you are someone who tries to make films yourself, watching others' work can be a lofty process. Maybe you're bitter because you'll never have the budget they had to make the film. Or maybe you'd feel sad because you feel like you could never make something as good as what you were seeing. Maybe you'll never even get to do what they did. Maybe you'll never make it.</div>
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As I watched <i>Blue Valentine </i>on my burning hot laptop, all of those questions faded into the background as I truly just enjoyed the film. Instead of looking for all of the answers, I let myself be still and connect with the characters. I guess that is when you know you really love something. </div>
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(still from <i>White Bird in a Blizzard</i> (2014) dir. Gregg Araki)</div>
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So here I am with my hippie-talk: <i>enjoy everything, man</i>! *lights fifth joint*</div>
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But wait, didn't I just totally smack talk <a href="https://twitter.com/LaurenRoseYT" target="_blank">(twitter plug)</a> Gregg Araki's new film <i>White Bird in a Blizzard</i>? I've been thinking about this film a lot recently. Regular Curbside Fashion readers know that Gregg Araki is one of my other favorite directors (<i>Doom Generation, Mysterious Skin</i>) and I was anticipating his new film for months. The film was visually beautiful full of shag carpets and piercing blue Eva Green (<i>The Dreamers</i>) eyes, but I simply could not connect with the main actress' performance. </div>
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I was devastated in purely selfish kind of way. I expecting to be fully catered by an artist, a.k.a. a real person. When I disagreed with the choices Araki made, it felt entirely too personal, as if he wronged me or something and I don't think that is good. I realized that the characters were meant to be brash (like all of Araki's other films), but I wouldn't allow it. And please do not get me wrong - you are allowed to dislike movies and critique things. But as I internally complained about how my favorite director let me down, something took over: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N-T33P9IGhI" target="_blank">Sea, Swallow Me by Cocteau Twins & Harold Budd</a>. </div>
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I started to catch myself listening to that song over and over, as it was featured as one of the main tracks in the movie. I began to think back to certain performances (Meloni, Green, Bassett) and now have a stronger appreciation for the film. Even some scenes by Woodley, whom I originally detested, I found to be extremely compelling. My perspective changed and I began to enjoy the film again. Of course there were things that I didn't like, but it wasn't a complete failure like I painted it as originally. </div>
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I started to come in the right way. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2iu1J38ff81P4N4ND706gNpWc_xu8H80NYqxTZD04YzqK_6c3BahRnz486Z8NVWp_zwJX75fOud-ok6Mw0kfGJFugcOy5-wfgdpfbkZYwKlfsfJbkWCrTJKfqcWlz_Ckc5yx8taJOymQ/s1600/10363525_10204472147780696_5719886062105276310_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2iu1J38ff81P4N4ND706gNpWc_xu8H80NYqxTZD04YzqK_6c3BahRnz486Z8NVWp_zwJX75fOud-ok6Mw0kfGJFugcOy5-wfgdpfbkZYwKlfsfJbkWCrTJKfqcWlz_Ckc5yx8taJOymQ/s1600/10363525_10204472147780696_5719886062105276310_n.jpg" height="430" width="640" /></a></div>
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It was Grace Lee Boggs who introduced the ideology "come in the right way" in her book <u>The Next American Revolution</u>. Grace Lee Boggs is a feminist, social activist, and author who primarily focuses her efforts in Detroit, Michigan. In her book, she mentions how important it is to come into situations humbly and respecting others' experiences in order to create real change. Although this could certainly be applied to activism (as it should), it can be applied to almost everything else.</div>
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As I see it, coming in the right way is essential for people who are passionate yet discouraged. And being discouraged doesn't always mean seeming fearful of something, discouraged people come in a lot of different shapes and sizes. People who are discouraged can be jealous, bitter, fearful, cowardly, insecure, or negative. They can stop their dreams before they even try to make them happen. </div>
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In this case, coming in the right way means letting yourself have a mental day off and not beating yourself up about it. Coming in the right way means wholeheartedly enjoying your favorite movies and drawing inspiration from them. Coming in the right way means allowing yourself to understand things before you criticize them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFqVMjMx1g5jD-8n_q2DhF87HVP781_klsJkSRa7x5sZ3YDKQSwHypPwovfAIPckjqAPuHTeMrYLNVWGnGb1vA3JQ6uUc47o3taGSqx2LWXi1lPP-AX0IjfP_YRi0C-kIDFT-LSzNqZ4/s1600/10306481_10204659429102612_945790658879944390_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFqVMjMx1g5jD-8n_q2DhF87HVP781_klsJkSRa7x5sZ3YDKQSwHypPwovfAIPckjqAPuHTeMrYLNVWGnGb1vA3JQ6uUc47o3taGSqx2LWXi1lPP-AX0IjfP_YRi0C-kIDFT-LSzNqZ4/s1600/10306481_10204659429102612_945790658879944390_n.jpg" height="512" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nd52BE3k600lh0z6Ooc2l2cBvkj_s4bDajLz39jVxpIyWnZB1TFtrRSTsQhQ6dJGvN31RdiXrKbfyvdBYtIjSDDsTiSkaFx9RVqk95o-DsD7KWDwZC1_rYTRGKMFdnjPSKuRjQEngLI/s1600/10419017_10204472148940725_1670472943529106304_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0nd52BE3k600lh0z6Ooc2l2cBvkj_s4bDajLz39jVxpIyWnZB1TFtrRSTsQhQ6dJGvN31RdiXrKbfyvdBYtIjSDDsTiSkaFx9RVqk95o-DsD7KWDwZC1_rYTRGKMFdnjPSKuRjQEngLI/s1600/10419017_10204472148940725_1670472943529106304_n.jpg" height="430" width="640" /></a></div>
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Coming in the right way also means allowing yourself to try out new things. All of the photos above are prints that I took, the long exposure ones in collaboration with my photography friend Zack. For years I had always wanted to take these kind of night photos but never did. I was afraid that it was unsafe for me to go out alone since I was a woman, I was a afraid that the prints would turn out terribly and I'd waste my money, and I was ultimately afraid that I didn't have any talent. </div>
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But I came in the right way and saw the experience as a learning opportunity. The thrill of going out alone at night and capturing the sodium vapor lights that I always talk about was exhilarating. The act of collaborating with another artist was effortless. And the realization that I<i> do</i> have talent was actually very humbling. </div>
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I guess what I'm trying to get at is to tell yourself that you don't know anything so that you can start from scratch all over again. It's terrifying, I know, but after you get over yourself you'll realize that you have the rest of your life to gain that "insider" status that you want. Stop trying to prove to others that you have something to say if you already know that you do.</div>
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Go watch a good movie and come back an entirely different person.</div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion </div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-37783015474686269942014-08-29T10:22:00.003-07:002014-08-29T10:22:54.698-07:00Style Muse: Rock 'n' Roll Night Club (Saint Laurent SS15)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
"I like your stye. A little Bowie, a little Bardot, and a look on your face that says I could kick the shit out of a truck driver" - Michael Shannon as Kim Fowley in <i>The Runaways </i>(2010)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7S2rrQxpmporMZLBC8nTLuXRcOvE9c8VaJeFMh3nU83uKyoFF2xd-10wRw9O_HDIQ7DlZ-HXKR3hyphenhyphenF5Z6zQnYv3q9tadOcABxJiJiac4BY8eK9ZKic5KJpydSg7po2XPmtZ-Vfv531RQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-08-29+at+10.53.29+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7S2rrQxpmporMZLBC8nTLuXRcOvE9c8VaJeFMh3nU83uKyoFF2xd-10wRw9O_HDIQ7DlZ-HXKR3hyphenhyphenF5Z6zQnYv3q9tadOcABxJiJiac4BY8eK9ZKic5KJpydSg7po2XPmtZ-Vfv531RQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-08-29+at+10.53.29+AM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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Saint Laurent's Menswear SS15 bohemian street kid collection has forced me to practice my deep breathing skills way too often recently. Each one of the 68 looks in this collection has something notable to revel upon thanks to the designer Heidi Slimane. Allusions to The Ramones, Jimi Hendrix, Robert Mapplethorpe, Patti Smith, Mick Jagger, and even Nikolai Fraiture seemed to flood my brain with this assemblage. Copious amounts of silver chains, paisley prints, oxblood velvets, fluid chiffons, cowhide leather, and intricate gems adorn each wearer in an almost ritualistic fashion. And to top it off, all of the models wearing the designs were unapologetically young and full of (s)punk. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyw-Av8boVQTUv7bTbCt-hgwDb-7hDpktrZZg1nYcCd_XRuujHjBYpBPdU2YMI2PbktcOY3YHsbF6hvbySmTNb-7YCB5vxpAc-uhgpRwePuqerknCAt_dSoqYykcnZC_EVcpjstcdIqYg/s1600/AA2X0078.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyw-Av8boVQTUv7bTbCt-hgwDb-7hDpktrZZg1nYcCd_XRuujHjBYpBPdU2YMI2PbktcOY3YHsbF6hvbySmTNb-7YCB5vxpAc-uhgpRwePuqerknCAt_dSoqYykcnZC_EVcpjstcdIqYg/s1600/AA2X0078.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS5YPjQylTS6VNL8GInZOu9dq2VB2l28hMQAf3Eq9cQMMEbMUxO_pT2U6DRSCW8c-aVNiGPMUgQEyKairSjkFn651llNjr2fJ0R541aSUBXSlMVXtfG_F-ublXJ8uTPE7rab75rZJDXH4/s1600/AA2X0483.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS5YPjQylTS6VNL8GInZOu9dq2VB2l28hMQAf3Eq9cQMMEbMUxO_pT2U6DRSCW8c-aVNiGPMUgQEyKairSjkFn651llNjr2fJ0R541aSUBXSlMVXtfG_F-ublXJ8uTPE7rab75rZJDXH4/s1600/AA2X0483.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXA5jFaLdH1XvELDWVed_gPHUbWU7NpKzSGRqF-u78sVagZJzxoqCPWWhhDwLLi7CHTpS2u6TV3aTgtEfiJfgsjrcM03P_kXjnOcScj7JzH5XWkeDNI4zvtw3kAKyMFWkbHKQ4Xx_dqQ/s1600/AA2X0387.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXA5jFaLdH1XvELDWVed_gPHUbWU7NpKzSGRqF-u78sVagZJzxoqCPWWhhDwLLi7CHTpS2u6TV3aTgtEfiJfgsjrcM03P_kXjnOcScj7JzH5XWkeDNI4zvtw3kAKyMFWkbHKQ4Xx_dqQ/s1600/AA2X0387.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepXus1iwiFFpkfFVmelD725dKXObHS6IDn-TAOTmXEsC1iNWEWV036wVzpRsNvolyYGdKX97cU3Ih4aoJ1qkIqKx7GcN7UbmSG3jCDtkrb00K_hyphenhyphenNf27UdTx3JN3tOeAv28QP2_rHfE0/s1600/AA2X0402.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepXus1iwiFFpkfFVmelD725dKXObHS6IDn-TAOTmXEsC1iNWEWV036wVzpRsNvolyYGdKX97cU3Ih4aoJ1qkIqKx7GcN7UbmSG3jCDtkrb00K_hyphenhyphenNf27UdTx3JN3tOeAv28QP2_rHfE0/s1600/AA2X0402.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtU9MzRo4gIqLs9aXA6NmqoYrX_DzRB1pYcU_q8ctveCrM-74aijAdzLVFzzCPCdIW-T2JpKwyTQhLxFJLsm9KzzBH6tjOeTz4L67wSf7jpFgZCSIb41zsf5CmLe8GCC3nH82Lk3GG12Q/s1600/AA2X0468.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtU9MzRo4gIqLs9aXA6NmqoYrX_DzRB1pYcU_q8ctveCrM-74aijAdzLVFzzCPCdIW-T2JpKwyTQhLxFJLsm9KzzBH6tjOeTz4L67wSf7jpFgZCSIb41zsf5CmLe8GCC3nH82Lk3GG12Q/s1600/AA2X0468.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="265" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7-LbDfjlRtqdl_s_nKcgSaHaL9TMLb5ftxplinCp8ST9L_j4waWGCi8gwgZBEKVoavfh3gdPLrdTavNAabR-EMHOeHcpXdSAjBpygx_6MTrSex0nhS382r2OAW0g3QBXhAfRxkUfTf38/s1600/AA2X0533.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7-LbDfjlRtqdl_s_nKcgSaHaL9TMLb5ftxplinCp8ST9L_j4waWGCi8gwgZBEKVoavfh3gdPLrdTavNAabR-EMHOeHcpXdSAjBpygx_6MTrSex0nhS382r2OAW0g3QBXhAfRxkUfTf38/s1600/AA2X0533.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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When I first saw these designs I immediately thought of <i>The Runaways </i>club scene. The biopic of the '70s all girl rock band - fronted by Joan Jett and Cherie Currie - starts at its origins when <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dSHsG8E_T88" target="_blank">Kim Fowley (Michael Shannon) scouts out the underage Cherie Currie (Dakota Fanning) at a nightclub</a>. With freshly bleached hair, a Bowie shag cut, severe blush contouring and a smart neck scarf - Cherie sips from a bottle of Mountain Dew fantastically all alone. That is how I envision all of these muses: night club wall huggers that know something you don't.</div>
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Another notable attribute to this collection is that Hedi Slimane effectively expresses the "bohemian" style without falling into traditional tropes and appropriations. You might see fringe, but you don't see ridiculous Native American moccasin rip-offs. Some of the models wear blanket ponchos, but are void of stereotypical "southwestern" prints. Instead of lazily browsing the '70s western influenced trends, Slimane dives deep into every fabric and accessory's lineage, so it appears. To put it simply: this collection is smart. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdyS03KMpGAE9-Fet_QzJDX4UwOrH4Mb6ogZSlsiETYtkACo8gOGZ44YtucdtMlc7iy3aKxl5alzy39cYPnYEdCHLds0Pz6Y7m04cNSKU5EphZT5_39aZVeJjq0Kg35yLTZU41S3tRRo/s1600/AA2X0810.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEdyS03KMpGAE9-Fet_QzJDX4UwOrH4Mb6ogZSlsiETYtkACo8gOGZ44YtucdtMlc7iy3aKxl5alzy39cYPnYEdCHLds0Pz6Y7m04cNSKU5EphZT5_39aZVeJjq0Kg35yLTZU41S3tRRo/s1600/AA2X0810.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgw7GomI-VOnlDvu8uuu44kQG1A-cXiaG7v60LTtAOmMo0LP0H3j-rLFFa8F1ZzGTGEedAgLKngxX1oOAFbhTjyNC9MKACFrH_DZ-h4LGKinV_rq1koLBbbrRNBMXOx6c1FTklzML9sI/s1600/AA2X1168.450x675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjgw7GomI-VOnlDvu8uuu44kQG1A-cXiaG7v60LTtAOmMo0LP0H3j-rLFFa8F1ZzGTGEedAgLKngxX1oOAFbhTjyNC9MKACFrH_DZ-h4LGKinV_rq1koLBbbrRNBMXOx6c1FTklzML9sI/s1600/AA2X1168.450x675.JPG" height="400" width="266" /></a></div>
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(Runway photos from <a href="http://www.style.com/fashionshows/complete/slideshow/S2015MEN-YSLRG/#1" target="_blank">Style.com</a>)</div>
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What sent me over the edge was the reference to '70s glam culture, notably headed by Bowie himself. You can find it in very small ways. My favorite was through the footwear worn by one of the female models, silver lace-up metallic boots peppered with dazzling red stars (subdued by an oversized printed pant). The glam emerges again through certain blazers, subtly in the velvet ensembles, and more pronounced in the later more flashy looks. Something about the silver and red pin stripe blazer reminded me of carnival season in the best way possible.</div>
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(The Runways, Cherie center w/ Bowie inspired metallic jumpsuit)</div>
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(Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe, Cherie Currie)</div>
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The collection in its entirety was impressive. Although I prefer a little more glam rock to my bohemian taste, it is undeniable that this body of work was completely successful. I enjoyed the intricacy of the pieces and it was fun seeing such a young crowd of models bring them to life (ex. Jack Kilmer, see my <a href="http://curbsidefashion.blogspot.com/2014/06/film-muse-palo-alto.html" target="_blank">Palo Alto Film Muse here</a>). Although the line was debuted for Spring and Summer 2015, I know what my upcoming fall wardrobe will be inspired by.</div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion </div>
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Rock 'n' Roll Night Club Tunes</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ooTKGQpdqNY" target="_blank">Do You Wanna Touch Me - Gary Glitter </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u7bcexRagTc" target="_blank">You Drive Me Wild - The Runaways</a> </div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_ZH6-gNnVw" target="_blank">The Wild One - Suzie Quatro </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6klXq2ZaZgo" target="_blank">Hedi's Head - LiliPUT (Kleenex)</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zug8C4KcGfQ" target="_blank">Cool Schmool - Bratmobile</a></div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-11931774251042203422014-08-23T21:27:00.001-07:002014-08-23T21:36:22.903-07:00Hazy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Summer in the city is winding down, yet somehow I just started to notice the sound of crickets outside my window. Like clockwork, they faithfully come out to help lull the world into sleep as the sun sets, eventually stopping around 3 am signaling the time for universal rest. But instead of complete silence the crickets are replaced by distant revving motorcycles from the highway not too far away. Every now and then bass music will bleed through the window of a car passing, or a teen will whizz by on their bike. Life electrically goes on until the sun rises, at least it seems that way right now.</div>
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Like most, I'm grasping for what's left. What I didn't do with all my spare time. Like driving down with my windows open, listening to my favorite movie soundtracks. Or walking the dog past that one garage with the R.V. parked out in front, shielding the man drinking beer and watching television inside. Even the humid and foggy air is energized, particles flurrying into each other under parking lot street lights. Everything is still so alive. </div>
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(personal film stills)</div>
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With the announcement of my end to making Youtube videos for the foreseeable future (<a href="http://curbsidefashion.blogspot.com/2014/08/a-four-part-goodbye.html" target="_blank">see post here</a>), I've been cultivating my former interests once again. That includes editing old footage (see above), using my library card (<i>Just Kids</i> by Patti Smith, <i>From Reverence to Rape</i> by Molly Haskell), and I even broke out my mom's old records, collaging to Elvis' live Memphis sessions.</div>
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Watching <i>Twin Peaks</i> again (in proper moderation) was probably the best decision I've made since my last blog post. The over saturated colors, filmic grain, and the peculiar performances of all of the actors is wondrous. Watching <i>Twin Peaks</i> feels so rewarding. If you can make it through the pilot you feel like you've reached a new level of zen. I recommend one episode before you go to bed each night to foster a healthy imagination. </div>
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It just feels so nice to do things for yourself. To not feel like you <i>have</i> to share what you're doing. No pressure, no prying eyes, just learning time. I've been thinking about my beliefs, my experiences, and my future in such new ways. And for once none of them require the approval of others.</div>
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A friend and I did some long exposure night shots recently and I discovered a new appreciation for photographers (cinematographers as well). The craft is intense. Even if you have good taste, capturing an intriguing image isn't always easy. It takes experience to know certain angles and techniques off the top of your head. I think about cinematographers, how they'll map out a whole scene, omitting hundreds of options and sifting for the most interesting shots. There are so many perspectives to choose from, and what <i>you</i> choose defines the overall tone and accessibility of the film. You can certainly ruin it, that's for sure. That is why I feel so appreciative of <i>Twin Peaks </i>- because not only is the set design/shot list greatly meticulous, but everyone involved plays an integral part in creating the fantasy world that centers around Laura Palmer. </div>
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This aesthetically driven world could easily be corrupted. The wrong hair style, the wrong paint color, a line performed unconvincingly. Just watch the pilot, you'll see what I mean. Yet somehow David Lynch seams everything together without noticeable flaws. And usually that would be intimating to most artists, that level of perfection, but for right now it is just plain inspiring. </div>
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Sometimes we jump into things that we connect with because we feel it in our bones. We sit down, open up a blank page, grab our favorite pen - and nothing comes out. Then we sit there wondering if we had anything in us at all to begin with. When really... we just don't know the steps of breaking through. And sometimes, we arrogantly brush off what we should learn in order to do so, which ultimately leads to stagnant progress. </div>
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Although you might not be 'On' 100% of the time, I've learned it's important to roll with good vibes when you have them. Learn the steps that will bring clarity into making what you want to make, saying what you want to say. And if you need to bask in the haziness of inspiration and uncertainty, by all means do it - and enjoy it. </div>
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Part of me wishes I could go back to that blog post (A Four Part Goodbye) and rewrite it. Perhaps I'd make it more eloquent, less frank. But I don't regret writing it at all, and I want to say thank you to those who supported my decision on my various social media sites. Also, I wanted to say thank you to those who said they'd still support my other endeavors, which is really saying something since I don't know if I have anything to give right now.</div>
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I can see myself posting on this blog like I have been, perhaps including more of my own art as well (a podcast has also been thrown into the idea mix). But all I really know right now is that I'm going to invest in myself again.</div>
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Cheers to good vibes and a new school year. </div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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Hazy Tunes</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWhbTqHJQKk" target="_blank">Dirty Trip - AIR</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-IAmX22IRY" target="_blank">Le Blues De FranƧoise - La Femme</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSKn68HYpYo" target="_blank">High School Lover - AIR</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7W5G6kTk-rE" target="_blank">Never Gonna Get This Pussy - Cliff Martinez </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DyWeVWiDnbQ" target="_blank">Digital Lion - James Blake</a> </div>
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<a href="http://alwayshumantapes.com/track/time-killer" target="_blank">Time Killer - TML</a> </div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-54996390560861557972014-08-12T02:59:00.000-07:002014-08-13T22:29:57.544-07:00A Four Part Goodbye<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm not sure how I want to start this.<br />
But maybe saying <i>just that</i> is the best way to begin.<br />
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As most of you <i>Curbside Fashion</i> readers may know, I've been making Youtube videos about thrifted fashion for a few years now on my self-titled channel: <i>Lauren Rose (JustACurbsideProphet)</i>. During the school year, I had a <a href="http://issuu.com/wakemag/docs/wake_mag_13_12" target="_blank">Wake Magazine interview</a> that alluded to the following words I'm about to express. As grateful as I am for everyone who has encouraged me, upon recently hitting 50,000+ subscribers I've become overwhelmed with guilt and weariness about my future on the internet. I knew this post was a long time coming, but recently I've decided to finally put things to rest.<br />
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I<br />
<i>Thin, rich, pretty</i><br />
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II<br />
<i>The allure of recognition</i><br />
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III<br />
<i>The Mac DeMarco epiphany</i><br />
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IV<br />
<i>The perceivable end to my Youtube videos</i><br />
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I wanted to be thin, rich and pretty. Simple as that. </div>
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When people ask me why I started Youtube I usually twist that answer, replying how I wanted to share my 'passion for fashion' instead of saying the honest truth. I was so young when I started posting videos on Youtube, I was naive. </div>
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Of course, I have to preface this by saying that this is not a rant about Youtube culture. This is me explaining my experience growing up on the internet wanting some kind of fame, and relatively achieving it - and how it has changed who I am (for better and worse). When I stumbled upon the Beauty Community, I was not in the best place in my life. My circumstances were pretty rough, on top of puberty, and I wanted to find a way to escape. I saw these beautiful girls who could afford everything I couldn't, who had seamless Ikea rooms and expensive/excessive amounts of makeup. I yearned to be one of them, or at least yearned to live through them. I was actually ready to throw in the towel shortly after starting my first makeup and beauty themed videos. I realized that I could never be one of those girls. Not only was it financially impossible to copy them- I also couldn't morph my face and body to satisfy my fucked up standards of beauty I'd created. </div>
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Shortly after, Jenn and Sarah from <i>ClothesEncounters</i> entered and redefined the Beauty Community scene - proving that you could shop humbly and still have a killer sense of style. Jenn and Sarah were stunningly fresh and witty - yet also extremely relatable. Their hipster style was just entering the mainstream market and they were simply magnetic together. If it weren't for Jenn and Sarah, I would have stopped making my content all together. To this day, I owe my rise in confidence to both young women and I will always support their endeavors (hey Jenn!). As I started modeling my video content after theirs, I found a new high in video making and it was life changing. I felt like a rebel, posting videos sharing my thrifted clothing finds (remember when thrifting <i>wasn't</i> cool?), dawning ripped tights and terribly cut shirts. When I started being sent clothing for free by companies, I couldn't believe my luck. To this day I have $200 dollar shoes sitting in my closet that I hardly wear that were gifted to me. Suddenly I started to get more views and followers, although I never could quite amount to my predecessors. I guess that is where things started to go wrong. </div>
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You see, Youtube can make you feel incredibly useful and important, and it can also make you feel like dog shit. As my view counts flattened out, my confidence issues came back. Sometimes I'd film an entire video and never upload it because I thought I looked terrible in a certain take. My fashion lookbook videos, which were by far my most popular and requested, made me cringe while filming them. I never got to the production level that I desired, and didn't want to push myself to attain it either. Of course there were highs and lows. My <i>Lauren Gets Deep</i> videos were always genuine, and my thrifted finds did indeed bring me joy. But something about putting myself out onto the internet constantly was wearing away at me.</div>
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I slowly began to realize that I preferred to be behind the camera, and that I needed to sort out my own issues before I put myself through the affliction of filming. I felt like a fraud talking about body positivity when I couldn't even stand to watch some of my older videos, or even film newer ones. The money generated from my videos was realistically a nice benefit, but slowly I realized that the only means to my income were coming from the views of my face, my clothes, and my body. I started to feel trapped and desperate. I'd been receiving such love and respect from new and old followers, but I knew that in my heart making videos did not make me happy.</div>
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(Tavi Gevinson by Petra Collins)</div>
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The allure of fame is something that most well known people don't talk about, understandably. I mean, we all ditched our <i>"I want to be famous!"</i> dreams when we were 10 years old, at least, we stopped saying it out loud. I think about that a lot. </div>
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Even when I stopped vibing with my own Youtube videos, I kept them up in hopes that they would lead me to some glorious opportunity. One summer I discovered Tavi Gevinson (founder of <a href="http://www.rookiemag.com/" target="_blank">Rookie Magazine</a>) and Petra Collins during one of my Youtube lulls, and I was astounded by the similarities in taste that Tavi and I had. We both shared a transcendent love for<i> The Virgin Suicides</i> and her writing pinpointed my feelings in an eerily similar way. She would do these photo shoots that I completely fell in love with, but would never have the confidence to do myself. I understood her aesthetic so well, I was ecstatic upon discovering her. But something hollow started to seep in. </div>
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Tavi seemed to have a certain freedom that I longed for myself. She could express her love for things in ways that I only dreamed of. The Rookie Mag collaboration was the kind of outlet that I had been looking for my whole life. I had come close to expressing the vibes we shared in my videos, but I didn't ever do it as she did, it seemed. Tavi had this weird spunky ambition that I lost a very long time ago. While I was busy trying to become notable by making videos that I didn't quite believe in, Tavi was out there doing exactly what she envisioned. And instead of inspiring me, it messed me up. This whole time I was chasing this idea of fame (recognition/respect) and I got it - but not for what I wanted. I was stressed, insecure, and unsure.</div>
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Even though Tavi's success crumpled my own at the time, I am glad it happened that way. Discovering Tavi's youthful passion and realizing how much I missed out on my own adolescence forced me to reevaluate what was important in <i>my</i> life. I slowly started making less Youtube videos and started focusing on activism, film, and live VJ-ing. My original passions resurfaced, and I'm still nursing them to this day. It feels like I'm starting all over, and I'm okay with that. </div>
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III</div>
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Then there was the Mac Demarco epiphany. My friend Nyala and went to the sold out 7th Street Entry show earlier this summer. First in line, baby! We both had been fans for a while, vibing with Mac's odd caricature of a personality and dreamy guitar riffs. He seemed so bizarre, watching his VHS style music videos online. A cult singer, who's fan base comprises of chain-smoking hipsters who would probably get his signature tattooed on their ass if given the ample opportunity.</div>
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As Nyala and I waited for the doors to open, Mac himself came outside for a smoke (go figure). Suddenly, I got all clammy. I didn't expect to meet him, nor would I have if given a chance (shout out to ANXIETY). He looked so strange, all 3D and such. His gap was... gap-y. He was shorter than I'd imagined, but his clothes were as normcore as I'd imagined. Slowly but surely floppy haired kids surrounded him, trying to <i>casually</i> make conversation. Very sly.</div>
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We decided we'd probably kick ourselves if we didn't say 'hi', so slowly but surely we both got up from our spots to talk to the famed Mac DeMarco himself. As we shook hands and began to talk, it dawned on me that I literally had nothing to say to him. Strangely, it wasn't out of anxiety - rather I realized that he was just a <i>normal guy</i>. He is one of those kids that I'd meet at a house party and share a beer with. But I don't know him. I don't know anything about him first hand, yet there we all were, low-key swarming him .... to experience what? </div>
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I couldn't believe how naive I'd been about celebrities, especially musicians like Mac. As we talked about my Menards shirt I felt totally calm. As the gig eventually started, his bro fans went crazy (drunkenly screaming for "Viceroy") and shoved their way to the front of the stage relentlessly. It sort of killed my vibe, actually. </div>
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The Mac DeMarco epiphany will always be a prevalent turning point in how I see things. It's not just a lesson on how we perceive celebrities... it's a lesson on how we see all unattainable things. You know: dreams, careers, projects, etc. Why are we so afraid of them? Maybe if we started to see them as more accessible ambitions/people we wouldn't hold ourselves back as much. Fear. That is the root of it. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8oxqs94Sbejx9pUVME_Kved6zeAXl9awwL-y50Cco7F2CaxBPK8V-5YsaD9sGmIiGqKd02VP3BdJ4m5UnAmcF-8oO6yPJYfp5eGbU7c2vSBtJO4obeFZjylWTe3FUlTSPPqnPfQDBGI/s1600/1382906_10202007570207797_2077493032_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI8oxqs94Sbejx9pUVME_Kved6zeAXl9awwL-y50Cco7F2CaxBPK8V-5YsaD9sGmIiGqKd02VP3BdJ4m5UnAmcF-8oO6yPJYfp5eGbU7c2vSBtJO4obeFZjylWTe3FUlTSPPqnPfQDBGI/s1600/1382906_10202007570207797_2077493032_n.jpg" height="430" width="640" /></a></div>
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IV<br />
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The three photos above have a lot of meaning to me. They all show some kind of growth that I've had in this past year.<br />
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1. The first photo is of an oak tree that I'd lie under while skipping my College Algebra class. During that fall semester I'd spread out my grandmother's crochet blanket and relish the warmth of the sun, the buzz of the new school year. I knew that time would escape quickly in a month or two, when everything would begin to freeze over and become harder, so skipping a class or two (or more) felt okay. What I didn't quite know then was that that fall semester was a major turning point in my life. It was the first time that I felt like I belonged at college, at least spatially. I was just forming the strongest friendships of my life during that time, and if I knew how far I'd come emotionally - I wouldn't have believed it. I'd lay there looking up at the twinkling leaves for hours, listening to Bob Dylan and the <i>American Beauty</i> soundtrack, sincerely enjoying life for what seemed like the first time in a while.<br />
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2. The second photo was of my wall tapestry in my dorm room. On it I had pinned numerous photos: Dakota Fanning as Cherie Currie, Rose McGowan, a <i>Run Lola Run </i>still, a crude drawing of Stewart Pickles falling into a time warp whilst making pudding for Angelica at 3 in the morning. I loved waking up to all of these images that I found inspiring for some reason or another. They reminded me of my personal identity, and that I <i>did</i> indeed have one.<br />
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3. Lastly, the third photo is of the windowsill in my old bedroom at my parent's house. On it lies a picture of Julian Casablancas, one that used to be taped on the inside of my high school locker. Although most people don't associate positive experiences with high school (I surely didn't), I can start to feel the appreciation sink in. I'm starting to remember old crushes I had, the art room I spent so much of my time in, and the electricity that filled the air when school started and ended.<br />
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And I guess that is what I feel now as well: <i>electricity</i>. I can't say what will happen to me on the internet. I still want to continue writing on this blog and posting on <a href="http://dontfindmeontheinternet.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Tumblr</a> and <a href="https://twitter.com/LaurenRoseYT" target="_blank">Twitter</a>. But for right now, I don't see myself coming back to Youtube anytime soon. And as I'm typing up these words at 3:58 am, let it be known that I am not writing this in a feverish state. These years have shaped me immensely, and I want to thank everyone who has ever sent me a kind message. And thank you right now for reading this sentence. And this one. Thank you to everyone who will continue to follow my pursuits, regardless of me not showing up in your Youtube inbox. I will cherish all of our moments, and this will not be the last of me.<br />
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-Lauren Rose<br />
Curbside Fashion</div>
Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-85933163735419454692014-07-29T18:25:00.002-07:002014-07-29T18:36:11.532-07:00Film Muse: Viva Las Vegas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Recently, I was riding the bus home when a friend of mine happened to hop on at the downtown stop. We chatted about what most friends talk about: work, roommates, future plans, and current romantic timelines. I learned that her and her boyfriend had traveled down to the west coast and ended up staying in Las Vegas, Nevada for a night. However the details of Las Vegas were depressing - terrible casino culture, hot weather, and a sugar daddy sighting that looked more like a grandfather walking arm in arm with his granddaughter.</div>
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As she got off at her stop, I thought about a movie I'd seen recently: <i>Viva Las Vegas </i>(1964) directed by George Sidney. Starring in the film was none other than the king himself, Elvis Presley, as well as another hot celebrity of the era, Ann-Margret. The film was electrifying and painted Las Vegas as the time capsuled city we all imagine: dazzling gold lights, hot neon cowboy signs, with every street corner draped in homage to Americana's sultry allure. Yet what's even more exhilarating is Elvis and Ann-Margret's obvious on set chemistry.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDD4m2izCiHVi9Yemq3lTz3c3_zIKSBj-O3GI-XeNz412avsG5xlnwRt2CBfHoB-iG9j8CkkfV9UkKrPH5DrBAz-GPDmeMxkGAH_E6CViVB8vNVLnbgd-G-FMXwvKywhHDsr_IskFBDjM/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-13+at+12.30.10+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDD4m2izCiHVi9Yemq3lTz3c3_zIKSBj-O3GI-XeNz412avsG5xlnwRt2CBfHoB-iG9j8CkkfV9UkKrPH5DrBAz-GPDmeMxkGAH_E6CViVB8vNVLnbgd-G-FMXwvKywhHDsr_IskFBDjM/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-13+at+12.30.10+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROAv_hk6Hq654reIleQJNRsBItPfOm0GICtfHh3_EcqEdJaiiPJIXsRwKaTHXmAWjw8aPoMNpjEyKlkw9G-Qd5KaJMlILg3Erqf8zU0XAws4BYW5bYZeI5aUUocDXQg3POu2o3Wpn6j4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-13+at+12.30.07+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiROAv_hk6Hq654reIleQJNRsBItPfOm0GICtfHh3_EcqEdJaiiPJIXsRwKaTHXmAWjw8aPoMNpjEyKlkw9G-Qd5KaJMlILg3Erqf8zU0XAws4BYW5bYZeI5aUUocDXQg3POu2o3Wpn6j4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-07-13+at+12.30.07+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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This musical/romance/comedy is absolutely salacious in the best way possible. Lucky Jackson (Elvis) is a traveling dare devil, looking to win the Grand Prix Race with the help of a new engine for his car. He soon runs out of money and attempts to find a way to pay for his hotel bill, as well as that special engine. While staying at his hotel he meets Rusty (Ann-Margret), the swimming pool instructor. The two begin to play tug-of-war with each other's affections, Lucky determined to win Rusty's love.</div>
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One of the first characteristics of this film that I fell in love with was the color palette. It's the epitome of '60s pop art design. Clementine corals, baby blues, red hot turtlenecks - this film does it so well. A nice color palette is something that we don't see too often in modern day cinema, in my opinion. I think some directors forget how important it is to have an organized color scheme, for it is vital to establish a visual tone. After all, we are all voyeurs in cinema in some way or another- we crave beautiful and interesting things to look at. </div>
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Then there is the pop culture history of the two stars. Whether you like them or not, Elvis and Ann-Margret were forces to be reckoned with. Elvis at the time was tired of doing B-movies to keep his career afloat during the rising Beatlemania era, where Ann-Margret was the new hot actress in the Hollywood scene. Priscilla, Elvis' homegrown wife to be, was in hysterics when she read that the two were having a fling on set. It was known that Ann-Margret was the female version of Elvis' better self: fiery, full of passion and talent. The way the two looked at each other during the film was clearly more than just acting. Although the soundtrack flubbed in sales, the movie itself stayed afloat due to their undeniable infatuation for each other. </div>
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It was also rumored that the director of <i>Viva Las Vegas</i> was just as infatuated with Ann-Margret as Elvis was, and maybe even more. Tension grew between managers as Sidney gave Ann-Margret more dance numbers with countless takes and increasing air time. Many noted that Ann-Margret nearly stole the show, which was unheard of when you put a major player like Elvis in a feature film. Even I can't argue with her allure. Sometimes I find myself fantasizing over her beautiful shade of strawberry blonde hair......... I digress. </div>
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Much to my own dismay, I won't lie to you when I say the film gets a little stiff 3/4ths of the way through. Some iffy sexism (among other issues) leaks through the mirage of the glamorous Las Vegas scenery. I find that happens with most older films that I watch. Yet I still find that I can view this film with the same amount of awe that captured me originally. I can still feel the romance between the two, even though the bigger picture is a bit more sour. Elvis' career (which skyrocketed from his appropriation of many lesser know black artists) went downhill a few years later, despite a spike in his comeback performance ('68 Comeback Special). By the early '70s, his marriage to Priscilla crumbled and his prescription drug abuse ended his life on August 16th, 1977. Ann-Margret is still alive to this day, married to Roger Smith. </div>
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<i>Viva Las Vegas </i>will always be one of those movies I'll look back onto fondly. The chemistry, the colors, the unapologetic lush consumerism of the '60s makes me giddy in the most unexpected ways. Watching the film will transport you into a hazy hue of a warm and tender idyllic love stupor, if you let do so.</div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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P.S. Here are some loved songs from the film, or that reminded me of the film. </div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ORKHRHYt0m8" target="_blank">The Lady Loves Me - Elvis Presley</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gbWa0zOnxPA" target="_blank">Today, Tomorrow, and Forever - Elvis Presley</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZtdwjU-z1G4" target="_blank">The Other Woman - Lana Del Rey</a></div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/ORKHRHYt0m8?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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P.P.S. Rose McGowan and Jonathan Rhys Meyers depicted the iconic duo in <i>Elvis: The Miniseries</i> (2005) and Rose looked absolutely STUNNING. </div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-68446057124433539632014-07-19T22:58:00.002-07:002014-07-19T23:10:21.847-07:00Style Muse: Viktor & Rolf's "American Beauty" <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>"Everything that's meant to happen does." </i>- Angela Hayes (American Beauty 1999)</div>
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Recently I've taken a fondness to runway fashion again. To be truthful, it has been a while since I've looked at fashion with the same appreciation as film, for example. Perhaps it is because the art of the industry is often atrociously commodified, or on the other extreme- not even digestible for us "common folk" to begin to revel upon. Yet the more time that I spend looking at certain collections, the more admiration I have for fashion designers and those who have passion for the subject. Much like film, I've begun to understand the inner workings of these artists, and I couldn't be more inspired. </div>
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Today I wanted to share a few looks from the <i>Viktor & Rolf Fall 2014 Couture </i>collection that reminded me of a certain lascivious character: Angela Hayes.</div>
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(Runway photos from <a href="http://www.style.com/fashionshows/review/F2014CTR-VIKROLF/" target="_blank">Style.com</a>)</div>
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The <i>Viktor & Rolf Fall 2014 </i>collection housed twenty-two red carpet looks. The hair and makeup of the models were neutral and tousled, looking quite ripe. Initially, I thought the material of the dresses was some kind of a terrycloth bath towel fabric- later learning that the material was a little more .... grounded. </div>
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The collection immediately reminded me of the 1999 film <i>American Beauty</i> directed by Sam Mendes. Although the character Angela Hayes (Mena Suvari) only peppers the film, she serves as Lester's (Kevin Spacey) immediate muse for finding the spark in life again. Lashing out viper ridden insults and puffing on a showy cigarette, Ms. Hayes seems like a typical vapid mean girl, only to be meticulously revealed as an innocent and frail human being that we all are at some point in our lives. Angela Hayes is seductive and full of passion, exuding indescribable potency - much like these outfits. The material of the covered oxfords and dresses from the Viktor & Rolf collection <i>actually </i>is that of glamourous red carpets. The carpet fabric has a certain lustful sheen to it, similar to the velvety sheen of the <i>American Beauty</i> rose petals.</div>
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The form of the dresses aren't just simply bathtub/bathrobe chic - they are sculpted works of art. I can even see some of the pleats mimicking petals themselves. And lastly, the richness of the reds that were used was a classic choice and head nod to a such an amorous color. Overall, I thought the collection was a very fresh take on the simplicity of beauty - I'd love to wear the pieces myself.</div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion </div>
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Hey <i>Film Muse</i>-ers, </div>
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Recently I've been thinking a lot about this blog: what it has become and what it will be. To be honest, I never intended <i>Curbside Fashion</i> to be a blog of almost solely film reviews - yet here we are. I started to question why I liked doing these posts and I realized that it's because I really enjoy other people's visions and success. When the music lines up perfectly and the shot is awe-inspiring I can't help but document it and share it with others. Ever since I was a kid I was mesmerized of how film can generate undeniable empathy within its viewers. All it takes is one good film to see the world differently.</div>
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I've learned from my experience as a Fashion Blogger that the field is very individualistic. Your dress size, hair color, and trendy accessories are all compared to the mass consumer market and sometimes the beauty of fashion gets lost. It is hard to explain. Yet I truly believe that watching films can inspire many facets of your life, including fashion. Even flawed films are worth seeing and talking about if they inspire you in other ways, and I believe it is important to support those who put their ideas into the world and don't get enough credit for doing so.</div>
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Today I'm bringing you a short film from Grant Singer called <i>IRL</i> (2013).</div>
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<i>IRL</i> is a twenty minute long short film starring Sky Ferreira as Angel, a girl who is trying to remember her previous trip-induced NYC night out with a mysterious woman. As Angel tries to piece together the evening, she learns of a murder that took place on the "L" train tracks that she may or may not have been linked to. <i>IRL</i>'s characters are hyper stylized, reminiscent of Gregg Araki's '90s teenage crews (<i>Totally Fucked Up, The Doom Generation, Nowhere</i>) - this group peppered with 2013 texting lingo. The underground club scenes are breathtaking, as they would be - given that Grant Singer has done so many great music videos in the past (<i>Night Time My Time, You're Not The One</i>). What I particularly enjoyed about Singer's direction is his curated aesthetic to create a mystery urban world of sterile apartments and neon smoke infused raves. It is clear that Singer's strong suit lies within musical montages that evoke unspoken emotions.</div>
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Originally written by Patrick Sandberg, I was very intrigued of the <i>IRL</i> script. As previously mentioned, the artistic head nod to Gregg Araki was crystal clear in terms of the character's dialogue. Araki's characters often spit some kind of razor sharp banter among each other. Araki's films have been ripped apart by critics, mainly for this reason. It isn't always easy to like such blunt (and sometimes vapid) characters. <i>IRL</i> dangerously goes further. Angel's friends obsessively snark at their iPhone screens, creating an insipid cloud of meaningless modern friendships. Although it was clear that Sandberg wanted to show the emptiness of these characters, something did not sit right with me. In fact, I cringed a bit while watching these scenes. Not only is it hard to digest representations of internet subcultures on screen, but I'd imagine that it's even harder to act out the dialogue in a likeable way itself. Some non-actors fumbled with this delivery, yet where <i>IRL</i> lacked in acting it made up for itself in visuals. Watching<i> IRL</i> is a good study in understanding the importance of acting, especially in stylistic settings.</div>
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The reason I'm probably the most partial to <i>IRL</i> is because of the cinematographer Jason McCormick's work. The compositions of nearly every shot are so beautiful. The day scenes are washed out in the best way possible, while the night scenes seem to be pulsing with glowing energy. In particular, the warped shots of Angel in the convenience store are some of the most visually interesting frames I've seen recently. </div>
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Sky's performance is one of the best. Her expressions are hauntingly meant for this film, and her voice carries the story along. These past few years I've kept a tab on Ferreira, especially when she collaborated with Gaspar NoƩ (<i>Enter The Void</i>) for her <i>Night Time, My Time</i> album cover. Sky has some great tastes, not only in pop culture - but in collaborators as well. She is one of those artists to keep an eye on. </div>
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The stand out characters of <i>IRL</i> were actually Damien Echols and Genesis P-Orridge. They both looked like they stepped out of a Harmony Korine/Gregg Araki movie. It is so clear that they had the vibe that Singer was going for, and they delivered their lines perfectly. They were intensely eerie and somewhat comical - heightening the potency of the film's suspense. </div>
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For music fans out there, Salem's John Holland and Gatekeeper's Aaron David Ross among others contributed to <i>IRL</i> as well. Their grainy slow pitched sounds permeate the plot line, so make sure you have a good speaker system or pop in those headphones when you watch the film. </div>
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Overall,<i> IRL</i> is one of those films that you should study. While some of the acting is crude, by no means should the film be dismissed. You can learn from films' mistakes while still appreciating the effort, and that is why I make <i>Film Muse</i> posts. I respect this film enough to share it with you all because I see the potential and the seams of the idea. If you are an artist, you should be familiar with these refinement gaps already, and I believe it's important to support those who are still mastering the craft. Regardless, <i>IRL</i> was an enjoyable short film and I will be keeping tabs on all of the film's collaborators. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.<br />
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-Lauren Rose<br />
Curbside Fashion</div>
Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-12239680046037799242014-06-16T01:34:00.000-07:002014-06-16T11:21:52.287-07:00Film Muse: Palo Alto<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I've sat here with the same blinking cursor for a couple days now. <i>Film Muse</i> posts usually just spill out of me, but this one is different. How could I ever begin to write a cohesive intro doing justice to one of the most important teenage films known to date? Every line I write sounds cheesy and sensational - as genuine as I am. </div>
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<i>Palo Alto: the ultimate mood piece of 21st century adolescents. </i></div>
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I walked into the Uptown Theatre alone the day <i>Palo Alto</i> premiered. As I sat in the awkwardly brand new (and squeaky) leather seats, I looked around me: a couple old dudes (hungry for a Coppola film? Tantalized by Franco's perverted storyline? I'll never know) and a teenage girl with her mother peppered the seats. As I sat there waiting for it to begin, I thought about all the expectations I had for the film. </div>
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I remembered first hearing buzz about Gia Coppola last year, who was set to debut her first feature film at the Venice Film Festival in September of 2013. I had read Franco's short stories before - often crude and cumbersome with weird teenage slang, yet surprisingly housed deeply emotional characters. When I heard that Gia was adapting his work I was <i>so</i> hopeful. I feel like I can speak for so many of my fellow film addicts when I say that I couldn't wait for another Coppola film. <i>The Bling Ring</i> left a gaping whole in my heart when it came out. I was hoping for a delicate <i>Virgin Suicides</i> take on pop culture and got Paris Hilton pillows. I know it wasn't fair of me to project my yearning for hazy and innocent adolescent stories onto Sofia's new work, but it hit me hard when I walked out of the theatre. </div>
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<i>Where was the film that said something for the rest of us? That explained the indescribable growing pains that high schoolers endure? The Trip Fontaines, the neighborhood boys, and the prom fruit punch? </i></div>
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All I can say is that <i>Palo Alto</i> was worth the wait. </div>
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Cue the opening scene: </div>
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A slow crop zoom centers in on a glowing beat up car. Two teens Teddy and Fred sit inside, taking hits and sipping on paper bag booze. As they talk, one of Fred's signature scenarios comes up. </div>
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Fred: "If you were in the olden times...who'd you be?"</div>
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Teddy: "I'd be the king." </div>
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Fred: "No, you can't be the king, dog, no way! 'Cause I'm the king around these parts!"</div>
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Fred thrusts his foot forward on the gas pedal, slamming the car into a cement wall. As Fred psychotically screams from his power trip, pounding the steering wheel - Teddy stares forward, stunned, checking for blood on his brow. That is the beginning of <i>Palo Alto.</i> </div>
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The hazy world of the California suburbs sinks in immediately, thanks to Autumn Durald's cinematography. Stephen Shore's bland run down settings paint the scene while Patrick Joust's long exposure glowing lights illuminate the night. Teddy seems shy and unstated, peach fuzz lines his face. Fred on the other hand is so severe, you want to either love him or hate him. He has the arrogance of a chauvinistic asshole but somehow manages to charm the viewer with his impromptu piano solos and hilarious one liners ("fuckin' baaaaaked-"). The two act like yin yang twins, one dark the other light. Fred seems to envy Teddy a bit because he doesn't try that hard for others to like him. The teens wander around aimlessly, party hopping, waiting for something. </div>
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April (Emma Roberts) wears a shapeless yellow sweater during soccer practice and takes a cigarette break - pretending like she's a brooding 1920s film star. Her room (Gia Coppola's preserved teenage room) is decorated with a mix of childhood items and older interests. I immediately spotted a Strokes album insert spread out and tacked on the wall. A <i>Virgin Suicides</i> poster is tacked up as well, conspicuously blended in for only true Coppola fans to discover (I see you, girl). Playful stickers decorate April's laptop, plain sheets line the bed. I liked the appreciation to detail in the bedroom scenes (Emily/Teddy) because they are so clearly reflective of their identities, like most teenage bedrooms. </div>
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Then there are the parents. The parents of this film are hauntingly detached from their children. April's stepdad (Val Kilmer) lights up a cashed bowl while playing Grand Theft Auto, her mom (Gia Coppola's real mother, Jacqui Getty) puffs on a trendy E-Cig (never forget the year of the E-Cig) while on the phone with her friends. April often sees them at a distance through hallway doors, rarely interacting. But the portrayal of the parents doesn't seem to be so much of a commentary on negative parenting. I can just see the headline now --><i> PALTO ALTO: WHY PARENTS SHOULD WATCH THEIR TEENS MORE! </i>We uncommonly see April's parents from her perspective: <i>as actual human beings</i>. I know what that feels like. It's sort of a melancholy time in life when you realize that your parents have lives and personal problems of their own. You sort of grow out of those protector/protectee roles that were instilled in you when you were a kid. It's also a bit sad when you come to that realization when<i> they</i> still don't think you have. Wise beyond their supposed years - the teens in <i>Palo Alto</i> seek intimacy elsewhere. </div>
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Teddy and April's encounters hit me so hard, I don't really know why. Was it their genuine acting? The way the camera lingers on their yearning faces? The viewer right away learns of Teddy's infatuation with April, much to Fred's annoyance. He looks at her longingly as she gets pulled away by her friends at a house party. It reminded me a bit of those voyeuristic boys in <i>The Virgin Suicides</i> - but much sweeter. As Teddy walks through the crowded house, he maintains his cool. Friends pat him on the back through the hallways, taking gulps from their parent's liquor bottles. Kids sit down and start playing "Never Have I Ever", singling out the more adventurous girls. The party scene is all too familiar, yet not too glamorized. We all know the underlying feeling at these kind of events: when you're at a party with your friends but you really only want to be with that one special person. The whole night feels like a delicate yet volatile game of booze, bud, and bad decisions. </div>
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As Teddy projectile vomits onto a fence, the "class floozy" Emily (Zoe Levin) steps in and offers to lead him upstairs to get mouthwash. Meanwhile, April sits in the living room soberly holding a decorative red cup. A boy tries to coax her into conversation, but it's clear that someone else is on her mind. Then we see Emily hand in hand with Teddy going upstairs and our stomachs turn into knots while watching April's pained yet subtle reaction. It's like getting the wind knocked out of you. This scene is so important because it perfectly explains how even the smallest actions can seem monumental - especially at that time in life. We watch April take the hit and try to recover by taking shots and later making out with the former couch boy. </div>
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As we cut to Emily going down on Teddy it's odd because the viewer doesn't really hate her for it. From previous scenes, she seems nice and maybe even picked on a little. She seems fully aware of her behavior, but also a little sad as the camera closes in on her dulled eyes. For a second it seems as if she is taking advantage of Teddy, although it is unclear. Later, we cut to Emily taking a swig of mouthwash in the parents' bathroom and Teddy leaving in the background reflection, saying nothing. She looks tired, sober. As she stares at herself in the mirror, we realize how complex all of these characters are. It's the least selfish approach to telling a story, and it's wonderful.</div>
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Then there is Mr. B (James Franco). It is clear from the beginning that he is stunted in some way. As he coaches the girls soccer team, he stops April after to complain about how he has to go on a date, asking her to babysit his kid. He is perfectly handsome, but something isn't right. </div>
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Mr. B is such an interesting character study. He comes across a bit predatory, and also a bit pathetic. He tells stupid jokes that even April doesn't seem to think are too funny, yet she is so flattered by his attention that she doesn't know what to do. I guess that is the creepiest part of all: April seems more mature than Mr. B, but he knows how to manipulate her more and that is where he leads. </div>
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As Mr. B offers to help April with her homework, she plays on her phone like a regular 16 year old girl. Out of nowhere he kisses her passionately, she shyly gives him a peck back. As their hidden relationship progresses, things get a bit stranger between the two. April tries to deal with Mr. B's aloofness during practice, tying other girls' shoes, giving pinnies to other players. The smallest actions eat April up, naturally. As she starts to process the whole ordeal and back out, Mr. B becomes eerily short with her. </div>
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During the soccer game, the camera zooms in and out as April misses the goal. The driving score ("Big Game") by DevontƩ Hynes pumps life into the scene and then fades out into a gloomy synth as the team begins to lose. Sparkling gold glitter gleams upon April's sweat ridden cheeks as she desperately looks at Mr. B, he looks away- disappointed. After the game, he consoles one of her pretty teammates, triggering April to do something drastic to get his attention back. She angrily accepts an offer back to his place after the game. His son is at his mother's house. She knows what will happen, but she goes anyways.</div>
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As April loses her virginity, Mr. B's shadow ominously covers her face.</div>
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I can't tell you how much I loved the way Gia and Amy portrayed Mr. B and April's relationship. I mean, it's clear that Gia didn't want to project digestible judgment onto these characters, but I can't help but see clues in Franco's acting. It's like solving a puzzle. Mr. B is obviously emotionally stunted and can't relate to women his own age, but he also is mildly controlling. BUT the beauty of it is that we can't see what his character does or thinks about in his spare time, because we mainly focus on April's perspective. I mean - this could have been a completely different movie about a perverted soccer coach, but it wasn't. How many times have we ourselves brushed upon turbulent situations like this? And how bizarre is it when it all comes crashing down? As if we were blind in the beginning?</div>
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I know so many people salivate when given the opportunity to call James Franco out on multiple things and hey- that's valid. But when I read what he said about who his character was based on things became a little more interesting:</div>
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<i>"My character Mr. B was inspired by a real guy who had been my teacher. A decade after we graduated, the girl who April is based on, had never told anybody that she'd had a relationship with him, went back and had him arrested. He went to prison."</i></div>
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When Mr. B's kid and April play a video game, she chooses the female character. "She sucks" he says. "Trust me, I've played her". As she announces that she doesn't care as the two buff and sexualized animations begin to fight to the death. The female character is smacked to the ground, blood splattering everywhere. April doesn't know what to press - and the little kid wont tell her. He wins.</div>
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"Two cookies, please!", he says. </div>
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It is then revealed how a<i> different</i> babysitter rewards him for winning the game, exposing Mr. B's infidelities with one of April's teammates. I thought this scene was amazingly brilliant. April storms into the kitchen and throws the bag of cookies at the kid. This whole time she was getting played - just like that video game character. She never had a chance. At first she seems riled up, confronting Mr. B. He lamely makes an attempt to keep up their relationship, telling her that he loves her. She gets out of the situation, but not without emotional scars.</div>
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As April defeatedly slumps down in the bathroom stall, off somewhere else is Teddy completing his community service for a DUI. The two seem like star crossed lovers that were destined to be together, but had to endure terrible situations before they could experience their own love. </div>
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It's sad, because it's so true. Missed connections in adolescents. When you care about someone so much but you don't know how to tell them. When you are ignored and destructively act out to spite others. When every little problem seems like the end of the world. I'm not saying you lose that when you grow up - but I think it becomes masked. We assume that that is just how life is, and the innocence of experiencing love and rejection gets numbed over. These characters are not without faults, they are raw. </div>
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Emily and Fred's relationship is almost even darker. One of Franco's short stories about the gangbang of a high school girl is included into their story line. Emily becomes infatuated with Fred, falling for his boyish behavior even when he hurts her. The two walk out into the garden, a montage of Fred's perspective of Emily: fun, flirty, beautiful, broken. Fred voice over explains how he got her drunk and shared her with his friends as Emily looks into the camera with dead eyes. Fred's voice is monotone, apathetic. </div>
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Themes of sexuality and power dynamics shine strongly. Teddy shares a blunt with Fred's father, and proceeds to be hit on by him. Although this was an improvisation done by Chris Messina, it eerily fits the predatory tone of this film. Not so much that adults can't be trusted and are irresponsible, but that they are complex individuals as well - breaking the mold of traditional younger/older relationships. </div>
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As Fred progressively becomes more possessive over Emily, drunkenly dragging her into a pool, she finally stands up for herself. It was a great and freeing moment. She smacks the whisky bottle across Fred's head - stunned at herself. He looks up at her like a whimpering dog, and then runs away. Later, we see Emily sitting on the edge of the pool smoking a cigarette, laughing. </div>
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As Teddy and April finally come together towards the end of the film, everything seems to fall into place. As she watches him skateboard in a parking lot, he stares back fervently. Music swells. Then Fred whizzes back into the frame in his car out of nowhere, desperate for weed and looking to pick up. The two lovestruck teens separate, satisfied for once it seems. Happy.</div>
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Fred goes into this eery trance, nonsensically talking about sexual power dynamics. We see the most immature character of the film talk about the most challenging topics that even most adults won't face: who takes and who gives? Who truly holds the cards? Fred's thought process finally comes full circle. Irritating and charming, Fred's entire existence was about proving himself and his masculinity, until it all falls apart at the end. His beliefs are challenged by the one person he cares the most about, and it stings. </div>
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Is Fred questioning the way we are taught to perceive sexuality? Does Fred act out so harshly because he is confronted with the possibility of him being homosexual? Or (okay - this might be a stretch), could Fred have experienced some type of trauma regarding his sexuality in the past? His father? I mean - I haven't seen a character zone out like that since Gregg Araki's <i>Mysterious Skin</i> when Brady Corbet's character goes into a fabricated trance to mask childhood sexual abuse he endured. </div>
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As Teddy dreamily walks through the park lights, texting April, Fred drives down the tunnel of hell. He floors the gas pedal repeating "I'm not Bob". It is so haunting. As soon as Teddy gets dealt a good hand of cards, Fred's ultimate demise catches up with him. I can't explain how eery the ending was. On one hand you feel giddy as April sits on her stoop, smoking her last lucky cigarette, all the while Fred is heading somewhere catastrophic. Everyone's feelings are so extremely personified it's hard to take it all in. Much like adolescence, I suppose. </div>
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Everyone did such a spectacular job at acting. I don't know exactly what it was, but I have such a whole new respect for filmmaking after watching <i>Palo Alto</i>. Maybe it was the fact that I had been following this project for a while and was happy to see that it exceeded. Either way, I found hope for the sharing of these kind of stories in this industry. <i>Palo Alto</i> was incredibly fresh. Emma Roberts, Zoe Levin, Nat Wolff, and Jack Kilmer are all on my radar. Especially Nat Wolff (yeah, that little fucker from <i>The Naked Brothers Band, </i>what- you thought I forgot about "Crazy Car"?). I think they all brought such insight to characters that easily could have been type casted by quirky 25 year old actors. Perhaps it was Jack's lack of acting that gave the film an overall tone of sincerity. He seemed so beautifully careful and a bit insecure with some of his lines, which just contributed to his character even further. And Franco, fuckin Franco. Give him all the shit you want, but I've been hooked on his stuff since <i>Spring Breakers</i>. </div>
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And then there is Gia Coppola and Autumn Durald. They seem like such a great pair who are constantly learning and emerging from their work. I know I referenced Sofia Coppola's own work a lot in this post, and I hope that doesn't seem like I automatically glorify Gia for her relation. Let me clarify that <i>Palo Alto</i> would still stand alone. Gia did a great job of studying her mentors and past films (<i>Dazed and Confused</i>?) to create a beautiful rendition of teenage growing pains. It makes me really excited for the film industry, for women in the industry. Autumn made me want to look more into photography, to start considering the cinematographer as a bigger contributor than they are often represented. </div>
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Overall,<i> Palo Alto</i> has easily become one of my top favorite films. Sure, there are hiccups and continuity errors like any other film, but I don't think that should lessen it in any way. <i>Palo Alto</i> speaks to so many different levels of me personally, and to see that on the big screen at this time in my life makes me have hope for things in the future. </div>
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So cheers to the <i>Palo Alto</i> cast and crew, keep on keepin' on.</div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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(P.S. s/o to Dev Hynes & Robert Schwartzman for an awesome soundtrack/score)</div>
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(P.P.S. I made a playlist for yall)</div>
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TEENAGE BLUES TUNES</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xheJtwfuujQ" target="_blank">Requiem For All The Lonely Teenagers With Passed Out Moms - Atlas Sound</a></div>
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Love Is a Battlefield (cover) - Halloween, Alaska (spotify y'all)</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xms9QGn46Wo" target="_blank">Ask Me Anything - The Strokes</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4_x063rhX4" target="_blank">17 - Youth Lagoon</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69lhDIqeHcI" target="_blank">Feels Blind - Bikini Kill</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_7Ky4CJz_s" target="_blank">Chamber of Reflection - Mac Demarco</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWFIQWJGOJY" target="_blank">Crying Over You - Roy Orbison</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MElfYleGIVU" target="_blank">Mayonaise - The Smashing Pumpkins</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KMBQEHZFZ6o" target="_blank">Fear of Sleep - The Strokes</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qbbq0_A682c" target="_blank">West Coast - Coconut Records</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QRXWt81DHaU" target="_blank">Sweet Sweet - The Smashing Pumpkins</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2lKjazoQ9g" target="_blank">Don't Watch Me Dancing - Little Joy </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaNqvdflTps" target="_blank">Between Love and Hate - The Strokes</a></div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-5284540226793229422014-06-02T13:40:00.000-07:002014-06-02T14:02:57.955-07:00Film Muse: Smooth Talk <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
When I was a senior in high school my AP English teacher passed out a short story by Joyce Carol Oates called <i>Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been? (1966) </i>(<a href="https://www.d.umn.edu/~csigler/PDF%20files/oates_going.pdf" target="_blank">read here</a>)<i>. </i>I remember the paper copies being limply tossed around the room - no one wanted to read it. The students were always rowdy during that time of the year, especially on hot and sticky days. I stuffed the handout into my backpack and didn't pull it out later until lunch:</div>
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<i>"Her name was Connie."</i></div>
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Connie is a young woman who looks at herself in the mirror a bit too much. She is only 15 years old but knows how to change her demeanor in the blink of an eye, being classically trained in the act of being a woman. Her mother barks at her, comparing Connie to her perfect and more modest sister June. She criticizes her for lulling in trashy daydreams and dancing to rock music. </div>
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But Connie takes the hits, because she knows that soon her best friend's dad will pick them up to go to the shopping plaza. Her and her friends will be able to escape into their budding lives of being teenagers - browsing store windows, gawking at boys, and running across the highway to the forbidden drive-in.</div>
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Oates' <i>Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?</i> was later adapted into a film called<i> Smooth Talk</i> in 1985 by Joyce Chopra (see stills). <i>Smooth Talk</i> is almost a word for word adaptation of the short story, apart from the ending. Laura Dern plays Connie brilliantly - innocent yet grown. Connie and her friends relish in the moments of summertime, hopping from store to store.<span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"> <a href="http://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/smooth-talk-1986" target="_blank">As Roger Ebert puts it</a>, <span style="color: #444444;"><i>"<span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">they parade through the mall, attracting attention they do not know how to handle". </span></i></span></span></div>
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I remember riding my shitty Target bike to the rundown church playground with my friends, feeling as if we'd outgrown the place in an impressive way. We'd go on the rusty swings and pump our legs, seeing which one of us could go higher than the other. Sometimes we'd wish that the elusive neighborhood boys would come out with their BB guns, and sometimes they did. We never knew their names - they went to a different school, but we'd get underdogs from them and watch them hilariously throw Frisbe's at each other (aiming for the nards of course). We'd leave them high and dry, grabbing our bikes and riding off across the parking lot into the sunset. </div>
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I remember the thrill of those preteen years. Nothing feels cooler than strolling into Southdale Mall with your girl crew, oblivious to the strange older men who would stare. Or after seeing a movie, we'd wait outside along the flickering poster displays watching older teens arrive for the super late showings. One day that would be us. We'd have our own cars and do whatever we wanted. Then - one of my friend's dad would pull up and snap us out of it. But it felt nice sitting in the back of their car, safe. </div>
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Oates describes the electricity of being young and (seemingly) free in a painfully beautiful way. </div>
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<i>"They rode off with the girl's father, sleepy and pleased, and Connie </i></div>
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<i>couldn't help but look back at the darkened shopping plaza with its big empty parking lot and its signs that were faded and ghostly </i></div>
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<i>now, and over at the drive-in restaurant where cars were still circling tirelessly. She couldn't hear the music at this distance."</i></div>
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Although Connie's era was narratively driven by sex, radios, and drive-ins, the reader can't help but relate the story to their own generation. The feelings of curiosity and wanting to be wanted are universal to many young women. Yet as we've all learned, these feelings are destined to expire and become hardened. </div>
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The story takes a dim turn when Arnold Friend shows up. He originally spots Connie at the drive-in, marking her with a big X. He's shaggy, wears sunglasses at night, and mimics the James Deans of the generation. Elusive, but pervasive. As Connie returns, she is left home alone while her family goes out to a barbecue. Out of the blue, a gold convertible pulls up with the same boy from the diner. But he isn't a boy. He's a man. He has come to shatter Connie's dreams of independence and love. He has come to take her away.</div>
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The Arnold Friend storyline really messes me up. There are a few tracks that we can go down, so bear with me. First of all - Oates made this character after the infamous Pied Piper of Tuscon: Charles Schmid. During the 1960s, 'Smitty' murdered three teenage girls with the help of this friends and 19 year old girlfriend. Being described as a "pipsqueak" of a guy, Smitty was a classic overcompensating ego-maniac standing 5'3. He'd stuff his boots with Coke cans to make him seem taller, put on pan makeup to seem tanner. Girls loved him, they ride in his car and go on dates. He was a misogynist that got his fix by luring innocent girls. </div>
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It's interesting because Oates mentioned how she wasn't exactly fascinated by Charles Schmid for the story, but rather by his friends and lover that helped him carry out the crimes. What would drive the youth to do that?</div>
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Then there was a lot of talk about if this film could be classified as a piece of feminist work or not. The story leaves the plot open ended: Friend demands Connie to get in his car, leave her family, and let him have her. In the film, Connie takes the ride and is dropped off at home where she presents to nonchalantly tell her sister about the event.<br />
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What does this mean? That Arnold Friend's talk made sense, and that she secretly desired to be taken away? That the event was punishment for expressing her sexuality? That all young girls secretly desire the protection and domination of men?</div>
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I think that is all bullshit. This is not a sensationalized morality tale. I see the story and film as a painful recollection of what it means to become a woman. Arnold Friend emotionally rapes Connie and tries to permanently change who she is. As Connie grabs the telephone and cries out for her mother, she realizes that she isn't a girl anymore. She realizes that she has been thrust into a world that is full of condemnations and false roads that lead to dead ends. She selflessly realizes that the only way out is to submit to Friend, which in turn saves her family.</div>
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Isn't that what we all do? We sink into our roles to make everything a bit easier even though it terrifies us sometimes. This isn't a gutless girl being hypnotized by some crazy psychopath. She just understood too much a little bit too late.</div>
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Oates dedicated <i>Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?</i> to Bob Dylan. What does that mean? Dylan was a legend during the 1960s progressive movement, calling out society left and right. Was this act of dedication that of a plea? A plea to recognize what most people still didn't? Maybe she saw something in one of his songs. Maybe she thought he'd see something more in this story. I still don't know exactly why she dedicated the story to him.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><i>Leave your stepping stones behind, something calls for you<br style="border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Forget the dead you've left, they will not follow you<br style="border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />The vagabond who's rapping at your door<br style="border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Is standing in the clothes that you once wore<br style="border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />Strike another match, go start a new<br style="border: 0px none; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;" />And it's all over now, Baby Blue.</i></span></span></div>
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This story is important. This story is relevant. This story is sad.</div>
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You can feel it ache in your bones, even if you don't share the explicit experiences. This is a story about what it means to be a young girl thrust upon our predetermined culture. There's a spot for you already made. Connie had to take it. Are you going to take it?</div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-61241400336517081552014-05-24T11:31:00.000-07:002014-05-24T11:56:01.947-07:00Film Muse: Twister (1996)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Twister</i> is probably that movie your parents have on VHS, tucked away in a random box somewhere in your basement. The cover is a landscape shot of a yellow sky, a black ominous tornado slashing through the center. Our copy's sleeve deteriorated years ago, now it's in a hardshell case with the ripped title Scotch taped on the side for easy viewing. It was a relic in our family. When I say that <i>Twister</i> changed my life please do not think I'm being melodramatic: because it did indeed change my life. </div>
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<i>Twister</i> (1996) directed by Jan de Bont embodies the Americana way of life at its ultimate peak. Long time storm chasers (and lovers) Jo and Bill try to perfect a storm device called Dorothy (modeled after real-life device TOTO in the 1980s) to collect data from the inside of a tornado's vortex. The game plan is to set up Dorothy, a mechanic basin filled with hundreds of tiny ball sensors, and then drive as close as humanly possible towards a tornado to release said sensors. With the data collected from inside the tornado's vortex, the storm chasers can better understand the elusive twisters and provide earlier warning systems to help save lives. And of course, it wouldn't be a Hollywood film without the impending rivalry of another (bougier) storm chaser crew, a gang of kooky storm chasers (Philip Seymour Hoffman, Alan Ruck), a sizzling romance, and an eventual heartbreak. </div>
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I first saw this film when I was around six years old. I'd crawl into our dark family living room and hide underneath a blanket during the opening scene. As scary as it was, I couldn't help but be mesmerised. It was probably the ever flowing adrenaline that De Bont pumps into the film, I mean, the guy made <i>Speed</i> (1994). Van Halen rips through the VHS tape and bleeds red white and blue onto the T.V. screen. Storm trucks race down country roads like stallions going to war. You can almost feel the electricity in the air. The characters are full of try-hard-or-die-trying enthusiasm, some searching for more than just tornado data. This is America. This is the Midwest. This is what I think of when I remember my childhood in the 90's. </div>
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For years after this film I was convinced that I wanted to become a meteorologist. No, not to be a T.V. anchor (lame- ZERO credibility), but to chase tornados across the good ole U.S.A. BABY! It wasn't until early high school that I realized meteorology is more about calculus and psychics, which both happen to be the bane of my existence. It took me a while to realize that it wasn't meteorology that I wanted to learn about- it was filmmaking. That's right folks, <i>Twister </i>was the first movie that pushed me into my film obsession.</div>
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Jo (Helen Hunt) is sort of the ultimate babe, let's get real. Every time I watch this movie I have a sudden urge to fish through my wardrobe for cargo pants. And denim. Denim on denim. I think her character shows the ultimate resilience. A stubborn cookie in a testosterone tainted wolf pack is always empowering to watch. Yet the viewer connects with Jo almost right away. She tries to act aloof when Bill needs her to sign the last divorce papers so he can marry his new fiance. He seems like a square at first until the viewer realizes how perfect they are for each other. For being such a brutal force of nature, Jo is clearly a human being. It is revealed later in the film that she is the only one of the storm chasers to ever see (and survive) an F5 tornado. That F5 tornado took her father's life and consequently sparked her dire urgency to understand how and why tornados exist.</div>
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Given that this film was created in 1996, I have to say the special effects were (and still are) on point. The monster of the film is shown in the Oklahoma skies ("greenage"), ominous wind, and the silent rustles of the <i>too quiet</i> country side. The tornado themselves aren't even corny to watch, whipping in and out of the frame. The music score also acts as a dual indicator of the villain in the sky - low rumbles, the sound of metal eerily sliding against one another. Even with new advances in special effects, <i>Twister</i> is the only film to this day that repeatedly gives me chills. </div>
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I've been thinking about Philip Seymour Hoffman in this film a lot lately because of his passing. Not so much in a sad way. I feel happy for him. I mean, how fun would it be to film a movie about chasing tornados with some of the coolest guys and girls out there (Alan Ruck, Sean Whalen, Helen Hunt)? He got to wear awesome flannels, goof around, and listen to Eric Clapton on his van T.V. Maybe that's just my false nostalgia creeping up, but he seemed like the happiest dude in the film. He seemed so genuine. </div>
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Of course there are issues with this film. First of all - they treat Jami Gertz's character Dr. Melissa Reeves like crap. It's the classic <i>Science vs. Liberal Arts </i>banter and she happens to be the perfect scapegoat. She is Bill's brand new fiance, a reproductive therapist ("She didn't marry you for your penis! Okay, she didn't <i>only</i> marry your penis") who clearly doesn't know anything about Bill and his psychotic tornado chasing past. She is the sweetest southern belle dressed in an all white pantsuit (<i>slay mama</i>) that willingly drives her nice ass red Dodge Ram into deadly tornados, all while tending to her borderline breakdown therapy patients on her snazzy cellular phone. She pretty much gets tossed around the whole movie, but acts as a rational character for the audience to touch base with. She is sort of my favorite, to be honest.</div>
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And then you have the whole "tornado thriller" aspect. I mean, I was going to write this post a couple weeks ago until I remembered the tornado in Kentucky that killed 25 people during this time last year in 2013. Is it right to write a blog post about how much I "love" tornado movies - even though I've never even seen a tornado? Let alone been in one? This talk of glamorization could be applied to so many things in the media, but it becomes extremely relevant in <i>Twister</i>. You have these fanatics that devote their lives to the thrill of the chase, only coming to their senses with the trauma when it hits a little too close to home. I see that the film touches on this in a detached sort of way, but it still seems a bit Hollywood of them. But at the same time, is it worth making these type of movies if they bring people together? If they spark feelings of gratitude for living a safe life? If they remind humans of their insignificance compared to nature, or if they bring pride to the homelands?</div>
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I mean - <i>Gummo</i> (Harmony Korine) is a fucked up movie - not because of the characters themselves so much, because there are so many people like that in the U.S.A., but because they all function so apathetically after a devastating tornado tore their town apart. Killed their people. Isn't that the scariest part of <i>Gummo</i> anyways? That they just go on with life? I mean, people like to watch <i>Gummo</i> and Harmony Korine's work in general because it is some of the rawest/crudest well known alt. films, but his work is more than just shock value. Right? Aren't we all on the same boat? You get something from Korine's work - don't you? Or do you think Korine is just a scumbag who profits off of town weirdos and recently had a little too much money on his hands (<i>Spring Breakers</i>)?</div>
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Ethics. I think it's something worth pondering on. </div>
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<i>Twister</i> is everything to me. It embodies the sense of Americana that I remember and the Americana that yearn for today. This was the golden age of dreams, I like to believe anyways. The pursuit of happiness, the reverie of nature, and the feeling of freedom. I see my Uncles in this movie - niche jokesters in their sweaty prime. I see women that I looked up to as a kid, Jo for her resilience and "tom boy" way of life - and Jami for her humility and grace. I see the American Midwest (the butt of all terrible U.S.A. jokes) in its best and glorious light. I see a good time, a simpler time.</div>
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It's the wonder of nature, baby.</div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-38886333814781125422014-05-16T23:11:00.002-07:002014-05-16T23:50:54.820-07:00She Found Her Courage In A Change Of Scene<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
There goes another year.</div>
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I've been thinking about making another post like this on my blog. Recently, I was interviewed for The Wake magazine which you can see <a href="http://issuu.com/wakemag/docs/wake_mag_13_12" target="_blank">here</a>. We talked about Youtube, having an online persona, and what happens when you're given an opportunity that just doesn't sit quite right with you. </div>
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Apart from awkwardly dodging stray copies lying face up on dining hall tables (....I didn't know I'd be on the front cover) this whole process has been pretty enlightening. For a while I was in a lull about Youtube and how it has affected me. It is crazy how saturated my life has been with the internet these past few years, and now that I finally have some perspective everything is coming a bit full circle. </div>
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Firstly, I want to give a shout to this past academic school year: it's been real. It sounds sort of shitty to say, but I felt like I totally regressed freshmen year of college. I guess that happens when your whole life changes. All of those anxieties I stomped out by senior year of high school came festering back. I mean, I'm not going to throw myself under the bus. I had some good friendships, good experiences. But MAN, does it get better. Way better. </div>
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This year I found my voice again. I remember when I first starting getting into feminism it was all so frustrating. Every advertisement I saw, song I heard, and interaction on the street I had felt like a personal attack on my presence. Our presence. I kept on wishing that I could take it all back and be blind to all the shit that was happening in the world, but it doesn't work that way.</div>
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I was frustrated that my Youtube hobby seemed shallow to some people. I was frustrated that my friends were angry with me when I didn't show interest in their miso. douchebag friends (sorry mom if you're reading this). I was frustrated that one of my closest friendships turned out to be hollower than I thought, and I was frustrated for not being able to articulate how I felt.</div>
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This year I sunk myself into activism. I gotta let you all know: internet activism is valid, but you gotta try out the real world scene too. This spring we hosted Take Back The Night which is a march/vigil surrounding the awareness of sexual violence. I go to college in a city and it's not uncommon for crime to happen, but I was livid this past year when multiple girls were sexually assaulted/raped near the street corners that I walk past everyday. I was disgusted how these atrocious acts were being lumped with other email crime reports of bougie kids getting their iPhones stolen while in a drunken stupor at 3 am. </div>
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But it wasn't just that. I felt sick about how many people I knew, including myself, that suffered from unreported sexual violence/attempted sexual assault from people in their lives. </div>
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It was fucked up. It was scary.</div>
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Take Back The Night was incredible. We had slam poets, performance artists, and an amazing MC that provided inclusivity and connectivity for the crowd. We had a huge march into Dinkytown, right after the White House released a statement about sexual assault on college campuses. I guess the part that got me was the end of the night when we came back for our candle light vigil. One by one people went to the microphone and told their stories of sexual violence. Seeing my friends bravely tell their stories literally made me weep. There were so many times in my life when I felt powerless and frozen, and to see these people break that barrier was intense.</div>
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Then there was film. I finally got around to building up my confidence to start creating art again. I had a dry spell and missed the type of thinking you were allowed to do in art classes. I met some great teachers that let me dive into my interests without judgement, while still teaching me new ways to approach my material and utilize new tools. Smoke breaks were probably the best part of class - talking about <i>Trash Humpers</i>. I even liked the pretentious film kids, they had spunk.</div>
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So I started taking my tape camcorder to parties and other places, filming anything and everything. It was very <i>American Beauty</i> (if you ever see me filming a plastic bag - STOP ME). I also ended up doing some outside work for my friend's label (<a href="http://www.alwayshumantapes.com/" target="_blank">see here</a>). We did a show at First Ave in downtown Minneapolis,where I got to do live projections/mix some of my own footage to an awesome electronic set. Stay tuned for more of that. </div>
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Then there were my friends. Dear lord, please bless my crew. They have become family. They got me up and out, trying new things, and helped me overcome some of my old stuff. Long nights turned into sleepovers and Brueggers Bagels in the morning. Disco Naps were a norm.</div>
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It all was so easy. I wouldn't have thought it'd just happen the way it did, to be honest. For once I felt like I got into the motion of living and the right people just fell into my path. That isn't to say that I didn't mess up here and there (cough-boys). I had my share of heartbreak, jealously, and bad decisions. But I made it out all right, and I still have the ones I'm closest to with me. We're good. </div>
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I guess I just got caught up with living. I was thinking about The Wake interview - hoping I didn't sound off-putting. Before I was approached for the interview I was seriously considering not posting another video on Youtube. This year was the first time that I felt like I was just another regular person. When I used to be overweight (and even when I lost it) I carried it around with me as if it was my total identity. I never was just someone - I was a girl who had lost weight. Even looking back at it now, I made such a huge deal about losing weight when in reality I was pretty much just growing into my body. But now I'm a weight loss guru.<br />
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I think Youtube is wonderful and impactful, but at some point my curated narrative became a little too important and stressful. I am not a Youtuber 100% of the time, so why market myself to be one?</div>
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I was getting anxious about where I'd take my channel - if I could ever have the confidence to do what some of my favorite gurus/friends do on here. Sometimes I would have to take breaks while filming because I hated seeing myself model in front of the camera. I couldn't help but feel like I was selling my body, my smile - even pretending to look and act a certain way so it'd appeal to everyone.</div>
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I've been on the internet my whole life trying to create a online persona that not only satisfies me (as my own worst critic), but also 50,000+ people. The bigger challenge these days is that now everyone wants their own web brand and everyone wants to be known (Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr). That isn't a knock either, it's just a fact. I don't have to make Youtube videos anymore to have a voice. I don't think it was as easy to do that a few years ago. I don't need instant gratification (nothing wrong with that either). I just need to find out who I am instead of trying to capitalize on what I could be. </div>
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So what does that mean? I don't know. What am I going to do? I don't know. </div>
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What I do know is that I want to relish my life right now for what it is with my newfound happiness. I want to maintain all of the friendships I've created on the internet (hey - YOU!) and share our good vibes. I want to spend time with one of my best friends before she leaves for New York City. I want to make more short films. I want to work my butt off this summer so I can rent a place with my friend next year. I want to take more film pictures. I want to get to know the Minneapolis scene before I leave it. I want to get lost in weird cult films. I want to make a zine. I want you all to know that I adore you so much and I am thankful that you even care enough to read this sentence. </div>
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You are all so super rad and are going to grow up to be ultimate babes and kick ass in this (sometimes) shitty world - and I want to hear about it. </div>
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So with that all I have to say is: stick with me. </div>
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Whether it's keeping up with this blog or showing me something cool on Twitter - I want to keep in touch with all of you. This is not a goodbye. I will post a video when it feels right, but know that this isn't the end. It's just the scenic route. </div>
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I'll leave you with this photo that I took of a <i>Palo Alto</i> handout and a playlist dedicated to transitions and changes of scenes. Love you all.</div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o2lKjazoQ9g" target="_blank">Don't Watch Me Dancing - Little Joy </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0KaWSOlASWc" target="_blank">Walk on the Wild Side - Lou Reed</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nO6y1-erVEw&feature=kp" target="_blank">Champagne Coast - Blood Orange</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BB12yzwYSr0" target="_blank">5FT7 - Tonstartssbandht </a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P_7Ky4CJz_s" target="_blank">Chamber of Reflection - Marc DeMarco</a></div>
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<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NBaM8eutHOg" target="_blank">Child I Will Hurt You - Crystal Castles</a> </div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-85407312358914429462014-04-05T18:57:00.003-07:002014-04-05T19:06:37.154-07:00Film Muse: Electric Earth <div class="p1" style="text-align: center;">
<i>A lot of times I dance so fast that I become what's around me. It's like food for me, I like, absorb that energy, absorb the information. It's like I eat it. That's the only now I get. </i></div>
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<i> That's the only now I get. </i></div>
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<i> That's the only now I get.</i><br />
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After writing my "Stillness" post I couldn't quite get it out of my own head. If you haven't read that post I probably just sounded incredibly narcissistic (<a href="http://curbsidefashion.blogspot.com/2014/03/stillness.html" target="_blank">go read it here</a> and then come back). Regardless, I still needed to understand why I felt so drawn to those images and those moments I described- beyond noting that they had a certain "stillness" to them.<br />
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What makes stillness?<br />
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I'd recently been studying Doug Aitken's work and felt like I was on the edge of dissecting this unnameable concept. Then, a mini epiphany occurred when I saw one of Aitken's short films called <i>Electric Earth </i>(1999)<i>. </i></div>
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(<a href="http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xahufz_electric-earth_creation" target="_blank">link to short film</a> - don't tell the cyber police)<br />
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Doug Aitken is a multimedia artist now parked in Venice/L.A. He has done some really cool multi-projection installations like <i>Migration</i> and <i>Sleep Walkers </i>(Tilda Swinton literally on the MOMA building). He has a really beautiful method of showing human consumption, everyday habits, and the energy that is still left behind after them. He thoughtfully breaks down patterns, nostalgia, and forgotten places instead of leaving them at surface level consumption. Stylistically, I saw a bit of Gregg Araki (and maybe a little Kubrick) in this particular film. I say that because Araki often searches for some type of raw truth in his works by taking back the scope and sharing a more existential perspective which I think is worth pondering on. </div>
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<i>Electric Earth</i> is a short film about a man who doesn't have much of a pull except a drive for dancing. He finds his purpose in the broken down molecules of life: a bottle cap spinning in circles on the cement, the pulsing motion of a washing machine, and the jamming of a dollar bill in a Coke machine. <i>"That's the only now I get"</i> he says. The places and things he finds inspiration in seem desolate and void of recent human contact. It seems like flickering neon lights and pixels are the only objects that keep him company.</div>
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I noticed that these places were almost all self serving, literally and metaphorically: the laundry-mat, car wash station, convenience store, vending machine. They are the everyday spaces that we all monotonously use and abuse until they become out of date, vacated, torn down, and replaced. It is only when we don't occupy or use these spaces that they suddenly appear strange and off balance ("stillness").</div>
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Why is it that we always deem a man-made place "alive" and "normal" if it is occupied by numerous humans themselves? Like when you visit a strip mall along an old highway. It's usually seems so dumpy and hollow that you can't even imagine spending more than 20 minutes there, let alone<i> fathom </i>how a couple people spend their lives there working alone. Why does it feel so foreign and askew?</div>
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And then why are there those who are so attracted to these nebulous feelings (raises hand)? Why do we find such spirituality in these places, such nostalgia for something that we've never experienced?</div>
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This film answers it. The feelings of fascination, of nostalgia, and melancholiness comes from the untraceable energy of life <i>itself</i>. </div>
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It's like at the end of <i>The Virgin Suicides</i> when you see the deserted house that once occupied the Lisbon family. It seems so cold, yet still full of unexplainable ghostly energy. The carpet, the paint on the walls, they are still vibrating with life even though every explainable sign of it seems to be gone.</div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">I think we feel this way because we are tapping into something more universal than we are taught. I can't even explain it correctly here because it's not in our language (or way of thinking) to comprehend it smoothly. This character in </span><i>Electric Earth </i>has transcended the typical way of experiencing life. </div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Everything has frequencies running through it, but it isn't until we are gone (or when our presence is removed) that we actually mourn it. I mean, think about it: we build these grand places and memories only to leave them behind and then reminisce about them- as if our presence could only bring them back to life. I mean, how narrow minded is it to think that just because our human presence leaves something that it becomes a dead object? A dead memory? A dead path and end to it's purpose? </span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Or like when Jessica Lange's character in <i>American Horror Story: Murder House</i> (S01E6) is explaining to the supernatural to Violet:</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">"You're a smart girl! How can you be so arrogant to think that there is only one reality that you're able to see?"</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">I suppose this feeling of "stillness" I've been trying to get at is more than what I thought it would ever be. Trust me when I say I don't want to be an existentialist, nor do I want you to view this as a negative confrontation of life. Yet when discussing the roots of "nostalgia" and "stillness", we have to start to think that maybe these feelings are so ghostly </span>because life itself keeps going on in ways that we can't understand when we aren't present. It's more than just a "soft grunge" or "retro" photo you reblog on Tumblr. These places, pictures, and video leave energy and influence in the universe. We shouldn't mourn them, we should learn from them. I guess I'm starting to learn that every action and object we create serves a purpose and lives on in ways that we will never completely understand. </div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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(no, I have not had a recent acid trip)</div>
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<br />Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-61872681388581632352014-03-23T21:40:00.004-07:002014-03-23T21:52:50.377-07:00Stillness <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
There is approximately one time out of the year that completely throws your vibe off:</div>
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Spring Break.</div>
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If you're a college student, it starts the Friday you get out. Suddenly the halls become a bit quieter, the streets become eerily deserted, and you can finally think for the first time in weeks. But this period of time is completely different than winter break or summer break - because you know that it only lasts a week. You aren't going home to eggnog and cookies or riding your bike to your summer job. If you're staying where you are, it's completely unsettling. </div>
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Most of my friends got a Greyhound ticket back home, a few on grander adventures, but I stayed here. It was mostly grey, a balmy 30 degrees out, but it gave me time to reflect on life. It's almost scary, how accustomed you become to driving yourself into the ground. Not just with school work, but just with the modes of everyday life. The stillness you happen upon over spring break doesn't quite put you at ease, it just offers you a new perspective. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRNUxu_dMVzLV04yOod2AsBJbSU6EAim6Tpv4JiL9Y4QFAhSv6SNsR8JnkwYMoPcDdaAu_pgNhLDP7MTfvK_U1VQ7zdXe_jhJrvXUwI93-eDxOGx4qDO6tI4ED1zk6b5PDBTuzSkc-Q8/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-15+at+5.31.10+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuRNUxu_dMVzLV04yOod2AsBJbSU6EAim6Tpv4JiL9Y4QFAhSv6SNsR8JnkwYMoPcDdaAu_pgNhLDP7MTfvK_U1VQ7zdXe_jhJrvXUwI93-eDxOGx4qDO6tI4ED1zk6b5PDBTuzSkc-Q8/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-15+at+5.31.10+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmLPMDWda05-cze8Qk1pmPGx3ZIy-AGSY079nha119CxAXYLrGHy-hKf88QhBoHJd2DArmf9yNa9389z2ez-bL1m0ThQBN4AI-aFQeh8cEI1gG1N3GbUP40iVjspsV6wBko9hnMrw_VQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-15+at+5.31.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmLPMDWda05-cze8Qk1pmPGx3ZIy-AGSY079nha119CxAXYLrGHy-hKf88QhBoHJd2DArmf9yNa9389z2ez-bL1m0ThQBN4AI-aFQeh8cEI1gG1N3GbUP40iVjspsV6wBko9hnMrw_VQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-15+at+5.31.05+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxF6CyfqB6rE2xuDvtkNxfcHRTHmjR9YPKWKzMQKX_i6iukXWA5MaYLsjP3q8laCnDCF1Z3NXHudWMHTY27f84647G1KIA_qPoaRGSXcf0vqlkdcWcKeNN8ZaHf309usHVODqyGFaPhs/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-15+at+5.31.16+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLxF6CyfqB6rE2xuDvtkNxfcHRTHmjR9YPKWKzMQKX_i6iukXWA5MaYLsjP3q8laCnDCF1Z3NXHudWMHTY27f84647G1KIA_qPoaRGSXcf0vqlkdcWcKeNN8ZaHf309usHVODqyGFaPhs/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-15+at+5.31.16+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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(<i>Spring Breakers</i> dir. Harmony Korine)</div>
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Over break I was fascinated with this feeling of stillness. I started to remember the times I felt it while watching certain movies. For example <i>Spring Breakers</i> directed by Harmony Korine. People shit on this movie all of the time (for good and bad reasons), but I think a big reason why I connected to this film so much was the entity of stillness that was captured by Korine. You got the sense of the desperation that comes along with realizing how slow life is when you aren't preoccupied with things. Those fixed frame shots of the empty dorms spoke to my freakin soul. You realize that these places you are so accustomed to are merely shells that are occupied for nine months out of the year. I also realized how essential Cliff Martinez and Skrillex were to this film. They composed the most delicate and omniscient soundtrack music (<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e0sXcMAzQdo" target="_blank">Park Smoke</a>) that makes you feel so damn melancholy. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7RSFu-RfS0c-muVxgvmRBrhtJ089Y2-mgL8UBJWTAJldy_KA5KkdGRy0pPFh7RFmu382mHnI9kZmOgWH-MWZTCDsL-QkC9GzWb7DHb7aSdydarCDnWDcTpfF_rX8G8klgSg53D9Ws_A/s1600/tumblr_mnq88e0LXk1s8dmv9o1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL7RSFu-RfS0c-muVxgvmRBrhtJ089Y2-mgL8UBJWTAJldy_KA5KkdGRy0pPFh7RFmu382mHnI9kZmOgWH-MWZTCDsL-QkC9GzWb7DHb7aSdydarCDnWDcTpfF_rX8G8klgSg53D9Ws_A/s1600/tumblr_mnq88e0LXk1s8dmv9o1_1280.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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(<i>Adventureland</i> dir. Greg Mottola) </div>
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Then there was that one scene from the end of <i>Adventureland </i>(2009) directed by Greg Mottola (<a href="http://curbsidefashion.blogspot.com/2013/06/film-muse-adventureland-2009.html" target="_blank">see Film Muse here</a>). It's a short scene, but ethereal nonetheless. The movie is about this rich college kid who decides to get a dumpy summer job at a local amusement park in 1987. The whole movie glows with that certain alliance you create with your coworkers. You know, the "Us vs. The World" type of thing. But this scene just got to me. Their summer job is over and now they have nothing to do really except shoot fireworks on top of a hill. It's all grey outside. It's too still. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwaAPDhEEnv7qvjfhqBNPMLZyL3L0Ams1opu1z_xJj1r4avoCPM0FC5gsrHBRtnRdQKXlBC0FaeCG_bd9X6e-_ad38Y8r0am_E5X2yHwmjP8vJmlPadtscC6xj_-FFd507apESusm-kc/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.33+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuwaAPDhEEnv7qvjfhqBNPMLZyL3L0Ams1opu1z_xJj1r4avoCPM0FC5gsrHBRtnRdQKXlBC0FaeCG_bd9X6e-_ad38Y8r0am_E5X2yHwmjP8vJmlPadtscC6xj_-FFd507apESusm-kc/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.33+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-W0tkz9PoJ4mPZR5x43OTfJVh3v_4sg98RwU9Myw3qfmfgz9EK6Bc9lJql_-ZtSrJ1_o_tCnZkfz1xgjAM4EDHS-jC3NTHaT0QRb4d4fxjnDx2RJGPwGMvnghpu5K6m4vu1Ia_o71tY/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil-W0tkz9PoJ4mPZR5x43OTfJVh3v_4sg98RwU9Myw3qfmfgz9EK6Bc9lJql_-ZtSrJ1_o_tCnZkfz1xgjAM4EDHS-jC3NTHaT0QRb4d4fxjnDx2RJGPwGMvnghpu5K6m4vu1Ia_o71tY/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.36+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAIKdHUeyA8uYrkaaRNCSbqctI-XbC3ZaynCFxeWfo_AFK6tTHN7_ki1PEqLm2sDr6ci6a8UFdZF8l_cvDav1HUgyDBGnGfuA3DNUWhfpdQnPtTTqRYCD8v1JmbonvDfvrchLF6aQF30/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.45+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbAIKdHUeyA8uYrkaaRNCSbqctI-XbC3ZaynCFxeWfo_AFK6tTHN7_ki1PEqLm2sDr6ci6a8UFdZF8l_cvDav1HUgyDBGnGfuA3DNUWhfpdQnPtTTqRYCD8v1JmbonvDfvrchLF6aQF30/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.45+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oI3ZxUK-4H69kgsO8UyRIw_h1ZFxIYcUnINxwhUS6GTHMmjru6o0C0C3q1micvGqKUOnoaG20EXcgcREzyslW_iNRvPpGYY_Z6zPhMPwYLouY1yBIPzFxaCdZlO5SkJccYw9qHNdT3A/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9oI3ZxUK-4H69kgsO8UyRIw_h1ZFxIYcUnINxwhUS6GTHMmjru6o0C0C3q1micvGqKUOnoaG20EXcgcREzyslW_iNRvPpGYY_Z6zPhMPwYLouY1yBIPzFxaCdZlO5SkJccYw9qHNdT3A/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+11.50.54+PM.png" height="400" width="640" /></a></div>
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(<i>The Virgin Suicides</i> dir. Sofia Coppola)</div>
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Getting progressively sadder, you have <i>The Virgin Suicides</i> (1999) directed by Sofia Coppola. I picked up Jeffrey Eugenides' book over break, hoping to gain some nostalgia from when I first read it. I forgot how beautiful it was, I couldn't fathom it. The book itself is the epitome of ever lasting stillness, exaggerated memories of the Lisbon sisters and open ended questions. I sat around for a good whole day perplexed as to how Coppola captured it all so well. One of the last scenes of the movie shows the house of the Lisbon family. It's vacated and so lonely. Everything is draped in a cool hue of blue, the walls painted plainly. Carpet stains line the floor, even though signs of life left it long ago. It also reminded me of the <i>Spring Breakers</i> dorm shots, how home is just a structure that you live in until you don't.<br />
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<i>The Virgin Suicides</i> has best soundtrack of all time, too. AIR beautifully accompanies the hollow feelings of the film, the soundtrack itself deserves a whole other blogpost:<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=08K1GSx7s8w" target="_blank">Empty House - by AIR</a></div>
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(Kurt Cobain's aunt in <i>Kurt & Courtney</i> dir. Nick Broomfield)</div>
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Then this. This scene I wrote about in my Film Muse of<i> Kurt & Courtney</i> (1998) (<a href="http://curbsidefashion.blogspot.com/2013/09/ode-to-those-left-behind-by-kurt-cobain.html" target="_blank">see Film Muse here</a>). The film is a documentary surrounding the life of Kurt Cobain. The whole movie is a total downer - if you're into that kind of stuff. What got me was that one of their main interviewees was Kurt Cobain's aunt who still lives in the same house that Kurt used to jam out in as a toddler. She shares old recordings of him singing Beatles songs. She plays the stereo with a huge smile (cross quilt hanging proudly in the background) but still manages to look so goddamn sad. You can tell she is a nice Christian lady who occasionally whips out an acoustic guitar at campfires, but something is eternally off. Like she is still deeply missing Kurt after all of these years, replaying old memories, even though she looks fine and happy in her denim on denim ensemble. </div>
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Well damn. This got a whole lot deeper than I intended it to. But I think it's important to dwell on these moments. I wouldn't have thought about all of this stuff if I went on a trip to Hawaii-kiki. Anyways, I suppose I should study for my midterm tomorrow. Happy Spring Break. </div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-57101886088684612962014-03-20T13:31:00.001-07:002014-03-20T13:43:15.715-07:00Film Muse: Totally Fucked Up <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
First Film Muse of 2014.</div>
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Hello everyone! I hope you are all doing swell with your endeavors. I thought I'd share with you a TOP SECRET film that I have been hoarding for a while. Yeah, I'm that person. I am totally protective of what movies I share with people. This is the kind of movie you'd find at a dumpy VHS rental store (do they even exist anymore?), but not on display- of course. It's in that weird room at the back of the place that you're too embarrassed to go into. No - it's not porn. It's of the punk rock variety. </div>
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May I introduce:</div>
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<i>Totally Fucked Up</i> directed by Gregg Araki (1993).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXffJxuzEFZE2nXqUn6CXyRHk2m-ZkTKV411JM8eRsHFOXVWGdr7Nki4H3lgHaFE7lVqoeOO1lmdQqiwkocdwHIqXArrO8SKO_JEQ_PdfcnLYje1ezuAFqol0GhPMnBTS-kZNwsmv0DI/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.25.58+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZXffJxuzEFZE2nXqUn6CXyRHk2m-ZkTKV411JM8eRsHFOXVWGdr7Nki4H3lgHaFE7lVqoeOO1lmdQqiwkocdwHIqXArrO8SKO_JEQ_PdfcnLYje1ezuAFqol0GhPMnBTS-kZNwsmv0DI/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.25.58+PM.png" height="399" width="640" /></a></div>
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Those who have stuck around long enough will know that I have a major obsession with Rose McGowan. She's that black haired vixen with a fiery personality and a knack for delivering tongue and cheek dialogue in your favorite cult classics. It was Gregg Araki who first scouted her at a gym when she was visiting a friend in Los Angeles. He later casted her as Amy Blue in <i>The Doom Generation</i> in 1995 (arguably one of my favorite movies). He also directed the critically acclaimed film <i>Mysterious Skin</i> (2004) starring Joseph Gordon Levitt. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUGMr2j6-1bOnG4p1006Ey5ee4zKvbuB_qQKtdP2JjT-pRmOkzfUXnqS7YmPWvgDQWvzKJ2Ow0MdWQETkC_KvMoAobVoWHP4_jAwW1WatmhJgLY7lQJhyphenhyphen863F25DwhR8lnjPVI2oploxg/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.33.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUGMr2j6-1bOnG4p1006Ey5ee4zKvbuB_qQKtdP2JjT-pRmOkzfUXnqS7YmPWvgDQWvzKJ2Ow0MdWQETkC_KvMoAobVoWHP4_jAwW1WatmhJgLY7lQJhyphenhyphen863F25DwhR8lnjPVI2oploxg/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.33.36+PM.png" height="399" width="640" /></a></div>
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Being the first installment of Araki's "Teenage Apocalypse Trilogy", <i>Totally Fucked Up</i> is a film about the lives of six gay teens. It's a narrative but also part documentary, breaking the 4th wall/connecting the viewer to the characters' undertakings. The teens are loud, brash, mysterious, lonely, and unsure - like every human going into adulthood. We feel their fear of relationships, fear of being misunderstood, fear of being alone, and their fear of the AIDS crises. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLDQfjMvLFnwpKhTSEL6AdgWPWYiCa4Zq4oiZ9BIoJ8mjGglB6QBZXYgI2ltdGmOj2LTjU33rVTsxRmICSnTptHKpDawjcTyqozscyLl1QZ6veDsuP8cp3xwTiUmRiWfEWWpO4br-b4A/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.34.14+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBLDQfjMvLFnwpKhTSEL6AdgWPWYiCa4Zq4oiZ9BIoJ8mjGglB6QBZXYgI2ltdGmOj2LTjU33rVTsxRmICSnTptHKpDawjcTyqozscyLl1QZ6veDsuP8cp3xwTiUmRiWfEWWpO4br-b4A/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.34.14+PM.png" height="399" width="640" /></a></div>
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Visually, Araki's films are by far my favorite. He pictorializes run down Americana landscapes of the U.S.A. impeccably. It looks humorously surreal but also lonely at the same time. Every shot seems to be electrified by neon lights and deep blues. It's grainy yet rich. </div>
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A portion of the movie is shot on a VHS camera by a character trying to document the lives of his friends. Nowadays (grandpa voice), we don't film our friends like that. We are too aware: aware that our mom might see it, aware that it might ruin our future careers, aware that we should edit the awkward bits out in iMovie when we get home, aware that everyone will see it so it HAS to look good. Sorry to pull a Holden Caulfield, but everything seems phony now. We are too aware of our audiences to genuinely document our past. Sometimes I trudge up old home movies when I'm yearning for something true. There is something so beautiful about watching tapes that were made just for your own memory and no one else's. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRc6Eo8MJR2YCAfCI7Oiv_49vGGIQpez90uQ7pwUrVYUcfH62Usc3tq-xKs3LnEJNljITF1bf1PXmcvFEsRiHxw3YqqSPp4Bl7I48MjTAdw0pwr4OXGQLaRIgGiNfLJklDaOel-IpOZQ4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.36.18+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRc6Eo8MJR2YCAfCI7Oiv_49vGGIQpez90uQ7pwUrVYUcfH62Usc3tq-xKs3LnEJNljITF1bf1PXmcvFEsRiHxw3YqqSPp4Bl7I48MjTAdw0pwr4OXGQLaRIgGiNfLJklDaOel-IpOZQ4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.36.18+PM.png" height="399" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: center;">There is something more raw about Araki's work that we will never be able to have again, as a viewer. That is why I hold it so closely to my heart. Sure, some of the dialogue is ear crunching, the acting, a little haphazard in parts. But it is beautiful. Sometimes I notice independent filmmakers trying to mimic his style but they can never quite get it right. Araki is a huge pioneer in the GLBTQ film community. We see the characters' faults but also their humility. We get a taste of the horror that creeps into everyday mundane lives. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pDbpJfYShxCdPrpc_WmzImzJVBVSneW-dYssVMXm2PFy_3SJTJVF_dmlaafVnUVjetAKRZvJebg1FBG9Mo76dE5UR6BMrusUrdU4oaPOTCIW9zfcrtQllp6NOwi2DSif44Q7f4jrrXc/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.38.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8pDbpJfYShxCdPrpc_WmzImzJVBVSneW-dYssVMXm2PFy_3SJTJVF_dmlaafVnUVjetAKRZvJebg1FBG9Mo76dE5UR6BMrusUrdU4oaPOTCIW9zfcrtQllp6NOwi2DSif44Q7f4jrrXc/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-16+at+4.38.36+PM.png" height="399" width="640" /></a></div>
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Trust me when I say I'll write more about Araki in the future. I feel so personally connected to his work in the strangest of ways. Cherish Araki's films, give them a chance. Watch them alone in your bedroom and reevaluate your audience, who you're performing for. Appreciate these genuine works as if they are time capsules you'll dig up 40 years from now. Don't exploit them. </div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-72730124716113798632014-02-14T19:06:00.001-08:002014-08-24T17:45:12.330-07:00Film Picks: "Girl Power"!<div style="text-align: center;">
Ah yes, Valentine's Day. So we meet again. </div>
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To be honest I don't give two hoots about the holiday (maybe I am repressing?). I am neither angry or elated. I mean, I got a Dum Dum and a couple Snicker bars from my friend so I am ALL SET. But I know that my "indifference" for such a socially shaped holiday isn't the norm.</div>
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Let's face it: you don't have a honey tonight and that is PUNK ROCK. You don't need anyone! Turn that frown upside down! U rock, don't ever change!</div>
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Did that help at all? No? Okay. Here are my top "girl power" movies to get you out of your self deprecating slump. </div>
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(see video <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6SPUGe5xSSo" target="_blank">HERE</a>)</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"> <i>Now and Then (1995)</i></span></div>
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<i>Now and Then</i> will make you cry. But in a good way. It's a flash back movie relaying the childhood adventures of a core group of girls in the '70s. Christina Ricci plays the younger version of Rosie O'Donnell. What are you still doing here? Go watch it!</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Never Been Kissed</i> (1999)</span></div>
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Talk about one cheeseball of a movie. <i>Never Been Kissed</i> will make you laugh your head off, right before it rips your heart out when you realize the similarities between you and "Josie Grossie". But in all honesty, this movie has a great message. It's totally chill if you haven't experienced XYZ by now, and there will always be assholes in high school. So sit back, relax, and watch Drew Barrymore eat a pot brownie. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Thelma And Louise</i> (1991)</span></div>
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This is one of my newer film finds. <i>Thelma and Louise</i> are tired of the South's shit so they decide to go on a road trip when something terrible goes wrong (trigger warning: attempted rape). I know you're probably expecting another snarky line from me, but I have to be straight up when I say I have major estrogen respect for this movie. It is such a great homage to all of the cowgirls of the world who get shit on. I thought the ending was THE BEST. Plus Brad Pitt.</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Whip It (2009)</span></i></div>
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I wont go into too much detail on <i>Whip It </i>(see my <a href="http://curbsidefashion.blogspot.com/2013/09/film-muse-whip-it-2009.html" target="_blank">Film Muse</a> post!), but this movie will always hold a special place in my heart. From the kick ass soundtrack to Bliss' "fuck-you" response to the idiot boy shown above, this film overall is TOO GOOD. Ellen Page and Alia Shawkat are goddesses. </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Romy And Michele's High School Reunion (1997)</i></span></div>
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Woah! A honorary mention appears?<i> Romy and Michele's High School Reunion</i> has made it into my Film Picks posts before, but I had to mention it again. If you are having a bad day, EVER, just put on this movie. The story is of two 28 year old women (best friends forever) who realize that their high school reunion is coming up! But wait - they haven't done anything with their lives! So they pretend they invented Post-Its. Just go watch it. </div>
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Hope you all enjoyed! </div>
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Will you be my Valentine? </div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-10159464637907832862014-01-21T10:58:00.003-08:002014-02-05T11:01:18.643-08:00Art Muse: "Buy Now, Cry Later"<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Art Muse? Yep. </div>
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When I think of artists I actively seek and enjoy, there aren't too many. To be honest, the contemporary art world mildly terrifies me. I'm a visual person: I like montages, powerful imagery, attention to detail. I like certain color palettes, aesthetics, and art with elusive but somewhat approachable deep meanings. Basically -when I see a blob of paint on a canvas, it just doesn't get me going. </div>
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W<i>hat is art anyways? </i>A tampon in a teacup? I find myself pulling an Enid most of the time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAw4WyO89U0IyjlkTNFczK9ARDX-EYy4NuI2iMUPa76XiMEL39OPCI_OQ0jqVJkJTJVZ000SUg6ATJw6iWMnGGlEWuv0EoHIMvAoB6gB4sO50qzzR0rKiaY2G4_MKz67p4uH37yjg6Otw/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-01-21+at+12.21.04+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAw4WyO89U0IyjlkTNFczK9ARDX-EYy4NuI2iMUPa76XiMEL39OPCI_OQ0jqVJkJTJVZ000SUg6ATJw6iWMnGGlEWuv0EoHIMvAoB6gB4sO50qzzR0rKiaY2G4_MKz67p4uH37yjg6Otw/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-01-21+at+12.21.04+PM.png" height="357" width="640" /></a></div>
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(still from my<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_cKa1W4P0M" target="_blank"> Film Muse: 90's Pop Cult Movies </a>video!)</div>
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When I saw Patrick Martinez's work though, I immediately thought of some of my favorite film idols: Harmony Korine and Gaspar NoƩ. I'm talking neon lights, hip hop culture, and commentary on present day America. Martinez recently held a show at the Public Functionary in NE Minneapolis called "Buy Now, Cry Later". I had seen a photo of his work in the City Pages and was blown away when I gave him a Google.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjwIdfBjB9c867tTwTd8kSeWWxNgQ3_4cYFrzNev9nVyiYB6HjVMbMWa271LD6p45sEhaXxCK9rDsqAkyITbuAmCw7m_PsF_xKaTB1b5PXxkdry5TraGEHR5bRCQe6C_ZcwQT4gP9MHY/s1600/keep+it+real.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjwIdfBjB9c867tTwTd8kSeWWxNgQ3_4cYFrzNev9nVyiYB6HjVMbMWa271LD6p45sEhaXxCK9rDsqAkyITbuAmCw7m_PsF_xKaTB1b5PXxkdry5TraGEHR5bRCQe6C_ZcwQT4gP9MHY/s640/keep+it+real.jpg" height="453" width="640" /></a></div>
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Neon signs - signifier of podunk Americana gas stations and Chinese restaurants. They stay on all night, falsely comforting, illuminating deserted streets. Low hums of constant buzzing. Martinez, born and raised in L.A. California, uses these neon signs adding his own commentary on Americana culture. The commodification and blending of cultures, the never ending presence of junk food, and the reality of what it means to acquire success in the U.S.A. today. </div>
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He uses a mix of neon signs and acrylic paint for his installations, which I think is a really rad concept. Some of his work incorporates Muhammad Ali, Tupac, and Nas lyrics - being born into an era of hip hop/sports culture. He has agency, he has inspiration, and he has a voice. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGTCBOyZHNt3xxBwUkFw_6YZpGIu3PBnFEBfeZILqwrEgcV8SGYORErmsTaPusG0imzl1PKkvV73hwHr9HRcrlOZNqApsMv0xOgLlP8HgrHiPeVWTZSw_L-EYzDa0Cq1r7ixdAI7l21NM/s1600/garden1SMALL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGTCBOyZHNt3xxBwUkFw_6YZpGIu3PBnFEBfeZILqwrEgcV8SGYORErmsTaPusG0imzl1PKkvV73hwHr9HRcrlOZNqApsMv0xOgLlP8HgrHiPeVWTZSw_L-EYzDa0Cq1r7ixdAI7l21NM/s640/garden1SMALL.jpg" height="423" width="640" /></a></div>
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One of my favorite pieces of his is called <i>"Inflatable Thug"</i>. I haven't seen it in person, but the concept is awesome. It's a life-sized cast iron "thug"/water fountain sporting water guns and an inflatable body. It gave me a <i>Spring Breakers </i>vibe - a humorous take on "thug" culture with deeper and darker meanings. </div>
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Overall I think Martinez has a good head on his shoulders. You can tell that he draws a lot of his inspiration from things around him, showing authenticity and honesty. I personally can't wait to see what he has in store. With that, I'm going to leave you with a link to his website <a href="http://www.patrickmartinez.com/">http://www.patrickmartinez.com/</a> so you can check out his work on your own.</div>
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Keep it cool, </div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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*all images are from Martinez's website, give them some love*</div>
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<br />Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-43692617911625799302014-01-13T15:57:00.000-08:002014-01-13T16:06:24.778-08:00TV Muse: Roswell (1999)<div style="text-align: center;">
Roswell or Bust.</div>
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When I was 11 years old I used to lie awake at night clicking through T.V. channels until four in the morning. Insomnia? No. Strange addictions to crappy television shows? Yes. <br />
With that being said, aliens have always had a special place in my life. I used to sit for hours watching UFO reenactment shows on the Travel Channel until I'd fall asleep. Preoccupied by conspiracy theories, I was determined that there was something out there- and that <i>someone</i> was HIDING THE TRUTH FROM US. </div>
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Anyways, during my preteens I vaguely remembered an alien based show called <i>Roswell</i> on The WB playing after <i>7th Heaven, </i>yet I never really gave it a go until my last few years of high school. Best decision ever.</div>
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Welcome to Roswell, New Mexico. Liz Parker and her best friend Maria are two teenagers stuck working at a podunk touristy restaurant when one day a fight breaks out among two truckers (of sorts). A bullet fatally strikes through Liz, that is until Max Evans (a mysterious boy from high school) steps in and magically heals her wound amid the chaos. </div>
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Liz later goes on to search for the truth behind Max's healing power, discovering that him and his two friends (siblings) are indeed ALIENS. Oh - and the kicker? Her current boyfriend's father is the town sheriff, determined to find ALIENS and exterminate them. Amazing, right? </div>
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This show is a classic love story between an extraterrestrial and a human being. It's got the <i>Twin Peaks</i> mystery vibe going on - but a bit more hip and current (1999-2002). Familiar faces appear, like Shiri Appleby (<i>Girls</i>), Katherine Heigl (<i>Grey's Anatomy</i>), and Michael Horse (<i>Twin Peaks</i>). It's the perfect teen drama with a sci-fi flare that would make most real sci-fi nerds want to reject humanity. It's basically <i>Twilight</i>. </div>
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(outfit inspo much???)</div>
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So obviously the show is really bad - did we get to that yet? But that is what makes it so good. It is probably the ONLY show that truly represents my curated early 2000s millennial vibes. Remember when everyone was so excited to be in a shiny new era? How everything was suddenly "metallic" inspired? How we were all so intrigued with believing in aliens and discovering outer space - that is - before NASA stopped getting funds?? This time period was such a hyper materialistic moment, right before 9/11 and the start of the U.S.A's ongoing economic depression. It was beautiful.</div>
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I love this show for it's insanity, it's indulgence. Roswell ,New Mexico is the center of all my visions associated with this outlier of a time. </div>
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The first two seasons of this show are PRIME. Later it gets a bit weird and tangent-y, but I highly suggest watching it. You owe it for nostalgia's sake! Let yourself melt into a world of silver and neon green, desert valleys, and hot teen pheromones. </div>
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P.S. Shout out to the hunky Jason Behr (Max) who was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota! </div>
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Hope you guys enjoyed this T.V. Muse (will this be a new thing?).</div>
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Keep it cool!</div>
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-Lauren Rose </div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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(P.P.S. all screen caps are from the Pilot episode!)</div>
<br />Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-47696360967508425402013-12-28T22:16:00.001-08:002014-01-13T22:49:09.610-08:00It's Been Good 2013 <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
2013</div>
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What a nice year. Actually. It wasn't that bad.</div>
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I'm even going to throw this out there: these past 6 months have been EXTRA RAD. </div>
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TIME TO GET PERSONAL: I've probably changed the most this year. The beginning of 2013 was the first time that I actually liked someone! Aside from Aaron Carter and Gordo from <i>Lizzie McGuire</i>, I must admit I had never really liked a boy before. Wowie. </div>
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I knew from the start that I was romanticizing him into someone he clearly wasn't...but it was nice having those feelings for the first time. Dopamine? Yeah, that. In fact, it was the most exciting thing ever. It was HOLY.</div>
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The boy turned out to not be exactly how I pictured - but I will cherish him as my first school girl crush ever. </div>
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(God - I'm too old for this.)</div>
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<span style="text-align: center;"> 2013 was a year of self love. I remember being so anxious in the beginning, latching onto people who didn't necessarily have my best interests in mind. I felt like I became a friend to fill space, to get connections. Getting out of that situation was the best decision and feeling I ever had. It was pure EUPHORIA. Realizing that you can always opt out to do your own thing was brand new to me. </span></div>
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Being able to be on your own is SO important. I began to learn how to deal with my anxiety, how to stop thinking negatively, and I finally reached out to those friends who were there for me the whole time. If I hadn't of taken that step - I wouldn't want to know the person I would have become. </div>
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One of the best moments was seeing Crystal Castles with my friend Bonnie. You would think being squished against hippies and punk kids alike would be terrifying - but it was probably the best bonding experience I'd ever had. Something about the hue of the lights, the pounding bass. No one was trying to feel you up or buy you a drink, everyone was just there for the music.</div>
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It was the best high of my life. What was even more euphoric was walking downtown in the chilled May air with my friends afterwards. Walking outside by the loner smokers, hugging old high school friends, catching the bus back - still buzzing. </div>
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Then there was work, and all that comes with work. Meeting and befriending people you probably wouldn't have, watching how people react with each other, having the coworker bond of hatred against horrible customers whilst working retail, and <i>really</i> appreciating smoke/lunch breaks. It made me realize how good I have it, being able to have an education when I worked along people who deserved it way more but had to make a living instead. </div>
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Then fall. Fall 2013 was great. It was the first time that I felt like I belonged somewhere in a long time. I met up with old friends, made some new ones through activism, and generally had awesome weekends. I didn't act like my usual myself and I liked it. </div>
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Then there were the random friends: the girl who was in my dorm last year. We ended up getting late night coffee and talked about existentialism and how we have no idea what we are doing in school. It was the deepest conversation I've had to this date. </div>
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There was the troublemaker in my French class who the teacher disliked (more than me, I might add). We bonded over our failures in the education system. She is like an older sister to me, but more crass. She's loud, not always P.C., and has the attention span of a goldfish. Yet, she is the most fiercely loyal person I've ever encountered and can go from making you laugh hysterically to making you spill your guts in order to sort your shit out. </div>
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I started making short films again, Mini DV/VHS/collage stuff. I used to detest everything I made in art - even the stuff that won awards, but this time it all just flowed out for some reason. I realized how important it is to have access to resources and technology - and how comforting it can be to have them (shout out to Adobe and really nice Mac computers). </div>
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Wrapping it up, I came in contact with someone who was really fresh. They had a passion like mine and seemed to have their life somewhat figured out, which let me breathe a little easier. They seemed driven and focused, but also childlike. CHILDLIKE. I really admired that, I didn't think people could still have that when they "grew up". </div>
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I admit - I can be really cynical of my own future. The economy, my barely-making-money "profession" path, my own issues - they all seem to hinder me from progressing. I was scared that I wouldn't be able to get through it all. To be honest, I still am.</div>
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But by just being in contact with this person I learned that everyone doesn't have it completely figured out, but making things work<i> is</i> do-able. Having the urgency to find yourself as soon as possible, make it big, get rid of all your debt - is keeping you paralyzed from actually living and creating things. </div>
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This person made me feel like it'd all be okay, and I don't think they know that. </div>
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So, cheers to 2013 - a turning point. </div>
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Hopefully you all had a nice time this year, and if you didn't, I hope you keep optimism in you for this upcoming year. My constant existential battle with human interaction proved fruitful this time around, even with the friendships I'd lost - the boys too. I would be lying if I said I didn't have major lows - they came and passed, but I wouldn't change a thing. </div>
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You'd be amazed at how quickly you can change, or how quickly your environment can change. You have to be open to it. It's scary, but it's great.</div>
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Never be stagnant.</div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion </div>
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<br />Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-8533861423681159652013-12-05T18:32:00.003-08:002013-12-06T15:26:04.284-08:00Film Muse: Tropico <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hello Film Muse readers, today I'm going to be writing about Lana Del Rey's newly released short film <i>Tropico</i> directed by Anthony Mandler. I heard about this project back in the summer and was really pumped to see their vision. And it was sort of amazing. </div>
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As many of you know, I'm a fan of Lana Del Rey. Although she is a frequent perpetrator of cultural appropriation (a different post), I couldn't help but being in awe of her work. When I first saw her come into the music scene, I was skeptical. I tried to find every excuse to discredit her work and her authenticity. Who does this woman think she is? Her use of stolen archive footage, making herself into seemingly docile characters and declaring her abusive relationship with Americana stunned me. She was everything I shouldn't of been and yet I couldn't ignore the passion I felt for her work. </div>
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Then I realized that she was the first artist that embodied the same idea of nostalgia I and other millennia's fantasize about in our present era. The yearning to feel wanted, the lure of manic love, and the notion of cultural voidness that we desperately try escape in our mundane lives. Lana expressed all of the emotion I felt in a curated aesthetic that spoke to my soul. I've owned up to it, the good and the bad. Lana Del Rey is one of the greatest poets of our generation. </div>
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(one of my favorite shots, Marilyn screaming as "Eve" bites into the apple)</div>
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In <i>Tropico</i>, the viewer goes on a musical narrative journey through three of Lana's interconnected songs ("Body Electric"| "Gods and Monsters' | "Bel-Air"). I was mostly excited about "Body Electric", a song in which Lana beautifully mentions her motifs/idols. Lana has no shame in glamorizing and molding her life after Marilyn Monroe, Elvis, Jesus, and Monica Lewinsky (to name a few). I wonder if she read John Waters' novel <i>"Role Models" </i>for artistic inspiration.</div>
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I think the symbolic nature of Lana's character being cast out of the Garden of Eden into present day American hell is so powerful. This is the first time that I felt Lana <i>really</i> showed the pain of her character's oppression AS WELL as putting the spotlight on the perpetrators. This has been a motif of Lana's for a long time, but for some reason the transition of innocence packs more of a punch in <i>Tropico</i>. </div>
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The two lovers bask in a beautiful paradise before sin slams them down to the lowest of American lows, podunk strip clubs and buzzing Kwik-E-Marts. Condemned Adam, wannabe masculine John Wayne cowboy, rings up junk food while Eve gets the worst of it (how fitting) by relying on her sexuality for a living. What did they (she) do to deserve such hell? The display of perversion on Earth is overwhelming in "Gods and Monsters"/the following businessmen scene. </div>
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"Womanhood, and all that is a woman, and the man that comes from the woman. The womb, the tits, nipples, breast milk, tears, laughter, weeping, love looks, love perturbations and rising...Oh I say, these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul. Oh, I say now, these are the soul." - Whitman (?)* (<i>Tropico</i>)</div>
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I can't even touch the monologue above. It's too beautiful to break down. </div>
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"I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix, angelheaded hipsters burning for the ancient heavenly connection to the starry dynamo in the machinery of night, who poverty and tatters and hollow-eyed and high sat up smoking in the supernatural darkness of cold-water flats floating across the tops of cities contemplating jazz..." -<i>Howl</i> by Allen Ginsberg (excerpt in <i>Tropico</i>)</div>
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"And so, being created in his likeness, and being banished for being too much like him, we were cast out. And the Garden of Eden transformed into the Garden of Evil. Los Angeles, the city of angels. The land of gods and monsters, the in between rehlm where only the choices made from your freewill will decide your soul's final fate. Some poets called it the entrance to the underworld, but on some summer nights it could feel like paradise. Paradise lost. " - Lana Del Rey <i>(Tropico)</i></div>
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"Just remember, I'm always there for ya" - John Wayne <i>(Tropico) </i></div>
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The film comes together in the end by the sinners metaphorically being baptized after paying for their sins. John Wayne's <i>"America: Why I Love Her"</i> is the last monologue we hear:</div>
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<i>"Have you seen a snowflake drifting in the Rockies, way up high?</i></div>
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<i> Have you seen the sun come blazing down from a bright Nevada sky? ...</i></div>
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<i>You ask me why I love her? I've a million reasons why. </i></div>
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<i>My beautiful America, beneath God's wide, wide sky".</i></div>
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I personally see it in this way: with all of the perversions of America, of life, there is still so much beauty to experience. </div>
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Nostalgia? Our glamorization of the past, of things that we want to make beautiful, things that we want to cherish, even if we haven't experienced them ourselves. Maybe it's not such a bad thing - glamorizing nostalgia - if it helps you get through life. We are lost, we need guidance. We need to know that there is beauty, that it wont always be this way. </div>
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Presently, my brain is trying to stop me from wrapping this post up. It's something I still have to think about and linger on. Either way, I wanted to share my thoughts with you all out there right away. Sorry for the weird abrupt ending. </div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-42454114501626153062013-11-29T22:35:00.001-08:002013-12-06T07:08:33.414-08:00Film Muse: Gummo <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I can't quite remember when I first saw <i>Gummo</i>. All I know is that when I saw it I wasn't ready for it - and that in itself was a godsend. You can't be ready for it. <i>Gummo</i> (1997) directed by Harmony Korine changed me. It changed the way I saw and interpreted film. After being exposed, I was no longer a drone to traditional box office narratives (did that sound pretentious? oops). </div>
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There's something in the way that Korine catches this catastrophic post tornado town. The dirt, the innocence, the simpleness, the corruptness. Maybe it's the DV video tape style that Korine is known to use. Voyeurism. Like you're watching someone else's home videos without their permission. It's invasive. You can't look away. </div>
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* If you are reading this sentence and you have not seen <i>Gummo</i>, DO NOT READ THIS POST. I don't want to taint your eyes/mind by spoiling it. *</div>
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Once you get a taste of <i>Gummo</i>, it will make you want to throw up. </div>
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In a good way, of course.<br />
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( Fact: Chloƫ Sevigny designed/made those bunny ears)</div>
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<i>Gummo</i> is about a classic USA town. No, not the Americana bullshit you think of. The <i>real</i> American heartland. As much as you don't want to believe that this exists in real life, it does. The story focuses on the residents of a poor tornado stricken town and what they do in their spare time. Killing cats, huffing Reddi-wip, fighting, playing tennis on Ritalin, and pimping out their sister- to name a few activities. </div>
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(Chloƫ Sevigny rocking Cherie Currie hair?)</div>
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This movie is fucking brash. When I first discovered it, I learned that it wasn't entirely fictional. Korine and his crew went into this dilapidated town and actually filmed the locals. Anything you see on the DV cam is probably real unscripted banter between town locals. The racism, the shameless talk of killing things - EVERYTHING is real. So disturbing, but so interesting. It didn't take me long to learn that filmmaking is about evoking emotion, especially the emotions and thoughts you try to keep out of your head. Korine blasts them in your face via metal music and you can't escape it. </div>
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(^one of my favorite characters/scenes)</div>
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There is something so pure about this film that it hurts. You wonder if the characters remember the tornado, if they have flashbacks, if they feel emotion over it. Even though some of the characters are so destructive, you can't help but see something deeper in their eyes. Experience, I'll say. Pain? Like they know so much more than you or I, even though you wouldn't expect it. I haven't figured it out completely.</div>
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("You're going to be a millionaire")</div>
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I think one of my favorite scenes was in the basement, the mother wearing her deceased husband's tap shoes, trying to make her kid smile. The camera work, how comically invasive it was. You see how much love she has for her kid, how she tries to amuse him, how she tries to amuse herself. She doesn't seem to feel bad about anything really, yet somehow you can just feel how importantly beautiful this scene is. </div>
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Once you get into the world of Korine everything becomes beautiful with intent. I noticed a lot of people dismissing him for <i>Spring Breakers</i> (which I have so much respect for). Korine is one of those psychotic people who see more than you do. He will do crazy shit and doesn't try to justify it or even address it. Is that making sense? I wouldn't say he "comments" on things, at least not in the traditional explicit way that everyone likes. He just films what <i>is</i>. A reflection of OUR society, of OUR morals, of OUR appropriation, and OUR desensitization. I think that's a great way to go about it, by <i>showing</i> it instead of explicitly explaining it (either verbally himself, or by using dumbed down images/dialogue). I'm a fan of his style, clearly.</div>
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Sorry if this post didn't make the most sense. I sort of like it this way though, to be honest. Korine changed me (<i>Gummo, Trash Humpers, Julien Donkey-Boy, Spring Breakers</i>). The fact that I can't even fully comprehend the images and messages that he has planted in my brain means that he must be doing something right. <i>Gummo</i> is beautifully disgusting. I hope you liked it as much as I did.</div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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P.S. This is one of my favorite short segments of the town locals. I CAN'T EXPLAIN IT. The MUSIC. </div>
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Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-19815820338355980082013-11-04T08:03:00.000-08:002013-11-04T08:08:59.912-08:00Film Picks: '90s Pop Cult Movies! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Hello!</div>
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I thought I'd keep up with my Film Picks series, so I decided to make my top '90s Pop Cult list! Okay, so some of these are from the early 2000s. But they all embody that '90s nostalgia nonetheless. If you didn't see my Youtube video explaining my favorites, check it out <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3_cKa1W4P0M" target="_blank">HERE</a>.</div>
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Pop cult to me means a lot of things. Mostly, I consider a film to be "pop cult" if it has a certain visual/emotional feel that surrounds the narrative. This can be shown through costume design, set design, camera work, dialogue, and performances. Basically, if I feel like I can take a screen shot at any point in the film and it would be considered pop art, I'd classify it as so. So in no particular order, here are my top '90s (ish) Pop Cult Films! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbtbw33dy0Wo8W2r5vOixvkNGP6aiKye96xIQRLLiHznGQzIEHnz3LuC9zNaSk-zkE-dmQ-pAxCjubGq2Dc66rC5AjQ9RF2Hl11sUucqkz_xgsDmnFuHA1A2-cmXb7mMbHmvdZgfXMRic/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.16.24+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbtbw33dy0Wo8W2r5vOixvkNGP6aiKye96xIQRLLiHznGQzIEHnz3LuC9zNaSk-zkE-dmQ-pAxCjubGq2Dc66rC5AjQ9RF2Hl11sUucqkz_xgsDmnFuHA1A2-cmXb7mMbHmvdZgfXMRic/s640/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.16.24+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i> </i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Ghost World </i>(2001) - </span><span style="font-size: large;">(I WILL FOREVER THINK OF THIS AS A '90s FILM)</span></div>
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Cynic and artist, Enid, finds herself drifting from everything she knows after graduating her horribly amusing high school. Thora Birch (Enid) delivers the most punk rock performance of a life time. Steve Buscemi is in this movie. Why are you still reading this. Why aren't you watching the movie. I can't write a proper synopsis of this film without hating myself. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIV81tUAAyPo7xKlQUWB9TY5E2iW2SjQFOayPBDP_RAqIAhAujlnWP3ZqLnWvDChz1ig5fNHBPCbC5Uq5acGHNkx7tn_-2suuH5RCWy1Yq2ByjkGEv5KJq_jqST-OPpXyk8ggQRwXNvZ8/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.47.53+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIV81tUAAyPo7xKlQUWB9TY5E2iW2SjQFOayPBDP_RAqIAhAujlnWP3ZqLnWvDChz1ig5fNHBPCbC5Uq5acGHNkx7tn_-2suuH5RCWy1Yq2ByjkGEv5KJq_jqST-OPpXyk8ggQRwXNvZ8/s640/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.47.53+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Jawbreaker </i>(1999)</span></div>
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"Liz is the cat's meow": one of the most amazing lines from <i>Jawbreaker </i>spoken by Fern Mayo. What is <i>Jawbreaker </i>about? Death and popularity. After accidentally killing their best friend, a group of popular girls try to cover it up- by bribing a loser (MAYO) to keep her mouth shut in return for popularity and beauty. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXooXjclIX7CjWTp0mIzIYAybUzn0xd5d-F5PGSxfu6kYvFVlXcW7iDiLjBUwvt4FQ1MSn_bP9vUsl1wGWfBxEeqNP07MS46-PB26ElD8uXROssUK3IXYwpZAl0RHVi3AlcWYrSqTGI0/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.48.25+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXooXjclIX7CjWTp0mIzIYAybUzn0xd5d-F5PGSxfu6kYvFVlXcW7iDiLjBUwvt4FQ1MSn_bP9vUsl1wGWfBxEeqNP07MS46-PB26ElD8uXROssUK3IXYwpZAl0RHVi3AlcWYrSqTGI0/s640/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.48.25+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>The Doom Generation</i> (1995)</span></div>
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Two best friends are going nowhere on an open road when they meet "X", a wild and dangerous drifter. Upon going to the Kwik-E-Mart for some nachos, shots are fired and the gang flees the scene. What will happen? Sex? Drugs? More sex? This film is pretty amusing until the last few scenes. WARNING: GRAPHIC MATERIAL. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPUp8JSGz9REjXEChz0lItxodm7yDyNmlwpSLn5ywKGAcHePLU3XQTuSUDKvznQOnrk1XxRGlziMjvgRObDmCAAHE7zv1hApwbXM92SSJvuGu-k0pkDcSiyDR7-vjDUSLb5zeKpiuooA/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.48.53+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="363" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjPUp8JSGz9REjXEChz0lItxodm7yDyNmlwpSLn5ywKGAcHePLU3XQTuSUDKvznQOnrk1XxRGlziMjvgRObDmCAAHE7zv1hApwbXM92SSJvuGu-k0pkDcSiyDR7-vjDUSLb5zeKpiuooA/s640/Screen+shot+2013-11-04+at+8.48.53+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Hedwig and the Angry Inch</i> (2001) (SAME THING AS GHOST WORLD)</span></div>
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A rockumentary of the ages. Hedwig, transgender rockstar, meets Tommy (Michael Pitt), an innocent bible thumper who becomes infatuated with her. Together, they make sweet music. That is, until Tommy gets too freaked out about their relationship, rips off Hedwig's music, and goes on to be a millionaire rockstar. Hedwig lays it down in a beautiful story, completed with full length music videos and animations. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsiwv-KWczU8Ol7GBfZZOmP4pbmWzSeDMwYih0p8FDTsCPSuChX2cxYQlX9DmIijWl2Ui7Xhyy21hCg9S1F8ikyPC8C1dR1jGIpbe3Bgg_I3Z_RN5mGcHO4LKRfjSHsN5h0ivaqXzQ0A/s1600/clueless.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="357" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVsiwv-KWczU8Ol7GBfZZOmP4pbmWzSeDMwYih0p8FDTsCPSuChX2cxYQlX9DmIijWl2Ui7Xhyy21hCg9S1F8ikyPC8C1dR1jGIpbe3Bgg_I3Z_RN5mGcHO4LKRfjSHsN5h0ivaqXzQ0A/s640/clueless.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Clueless</i> (1995)</span></div>
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An adaptation of Jane Austen's <i>Emma</i>, Cher decides to fix everyone's problems (especially when they benefit her). This film is '90s materialism on crack. If you are going to watch this film for anything, let it be for the costume design. Checkered yellow skirt suit combo? Yes. R.I.P. Brittany Murphy. </div>
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"I could really use some kind of herbal refreshment..."</div>
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"Oh, well we do lunch in ten minutes. We don't have any tea, but we have Coke and stuff."</div>
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"No shit! You guys got coke here?"</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdg6eY8d5VJFqB5hnYTjrpTTquhRB1W6jHKt6sxcAgpK9byFANoD1R1ioO5fEgjCqZ4bIgMeoj6Fa8dZJOqUWIaMEJeTqwhLTeU8cUEpIrRadvx3doHsUtCuxps6836UQSGaVxn5abpQU/s1600/romy-and-michelle-5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="369" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdg6eY8d5VJFqB5hnYTjrpTTquhRB1W6jHKt6sxcAgpK9byFANoD1R1ioO5fEgjCqZ4bIgMeoj6Fa8dZJOqUWIaMEJeTqwhLTeU8cUEpIrRadvx3doHsUtCuxps6836UQSGaVxn5abpQU/s640/romy-and-michelle-5.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">Romy and Michele's High School Reunion (1997)</span></div>
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Romy and Michele have remained best friends since high school when they learn they have to go back for their reunion. Disgusted with how unpopular they were, they decide to fabricate how well they have been doing ever since they left. Go to the gym? Check. Rent a fancy car? Check. Tell everyone you invented Post-It Notes? Check. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRBL_B9gd8cm43wM8H3UeXsIrDw3qI8xMxkU2j8G1IoUrjTzooMseHOWMkntK4lt70Ejki_iG3CNv6X_PpwTFa1-HNScjLYFpk02AVtb8r9Zxon2UyoftjvWrja4o_uoOPUIr77yOxhY/s1600/Cry-Baby-screencaps-johnny-depp-5601321-960-514.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="343" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLRBL_B9gd8cm43wM8H3UeXsIrDw3qI8xMxkU2j8G1IoUrjTzooMseHOWMkntK4lt70Ejki_iG3CNv6X_PpwTFa1-HNScjLYFpk02AVtb8r9Zxon2UyoftjvWrja4o_uoOPUIr77yOxhY/s640/Cry-Baby-screencaps-johnny-depp-5601321-960-514.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Cry-Baby</i> (1990)</span></div>
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John Waters is at it again in this exceptional pop cult film. Set in the 1950s, greaser/bad boy Cry-Baby (Johnny Depp) tries to win over the good girl. Much like a musical mockumentary of <i>Grease</i>, this film is full of awesome script writing, beautiful makeup, and roll on the ground humor. Start out your John Waters marathon with this one!</div>
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"I'm so tired of being good!"</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Pulp Fiction </i>(1994)</span></div>
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You've seen it on the dorm room walls, <i>Pulp Fiction</i> is probably one of the most well known cult movies out there. Directed by Quentin Tarantino, this dark comedy crime film shows the lives of two mob hit men, a boxer, a gangster's wife, and a couple of bandits (thanks IMDB). It's one of the those movies that you have to watch over and over again to completely understand it/appreciate it. So start now! </div>
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"I said GODDAMN" </div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Fear and Loathing is Las Vegas</i> (1998)</span></div>
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Written by the real Hunter S. Thompson, Johnny Depp plays a tripping journalist who travels to Las Vegas with his lawyer. This dark comedy has some of the most entertaining costume design and cinematography out there. You know what? I'm just going to show you <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7geQYc_-ruc" target="_blank">this.</a> </div>
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There you go! Some of the best '90s Pop Cult Films out there. I hope you enjoyed and start planning your next movie night with one of these picks. Have a good one.</div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
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P.S. I hope you enjoyed the college video art I did (top 4 stills/in the video). I might make them into GIF form for my Tumblr, we'll see!</div>
Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-73736287968930753812013-10-28T09:10:00.000-07:002013-10-28T09:19:36.004-07:00Film Muse: Les Demoiselles de Rochefort<div style="text-align: center;">
Bonjour mes amis! </div>
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In an effort to make myself do well in french class, I've taken upon watching french films. Which in turn has led me to not completing all of my french homework. I'm trying.</div>
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Today's Film Muse is 1967's<i> Les Demoiselles de Rochefort (The Young Girls of Rochefort)</i> directed by Jacques Demy. If you are a fan of the French New Wave, or directors like Godard and Truffaut, you're going to see a lot of familiar faces in this film. In particular, Catherine Deneuve (blonde twin) who worked with Roman Polanski in <i>Repulsion</i> a couple years before. Basically, this film is a awesome starting place to get into the French New Wave as well as 60's cinema for all you film buffs out there. </div>
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This musical centers around two dreamy twins, Delphine and Solange Garnier. They don't really exhibit any flaws - as in - they are perfect. Solange can play any instrument she picks up and Delphine teaches dance classes in their apartment. It seems like everyone in this film, including the twins, are looking for their ideal lover. Their soulmate. How ROMANTIC! Maxence, a overly fetishized french military boy/painter (hot), sings AND dances while talking about his "feminine ideal", just to give you a taste of the passion to come. To be honest, this movie is so clichƩ it will make you want to barf at times. The inner feminist in me cringes at the misogyny and trope characters, but hey! Who says a girl can't like problematic media? </div>
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Can we just talk about this design of this film for a second? Or the 1960's in general? The pastels. The pink shutters. The perfectly groomed hair (wigs?). The geometry. The matching dress/tights/shoes. The painted buildings. Everything. I could go on and on. </div>
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I know I've talked about how pining over the glamorized past ('90s nostalgia video) is pretty harmful, but I can't help but wish I lived in the 60's right now. At least, aesthetically. I wish America was still overly superficial, still enjoyed and celebrated art, and still at least warmed up to gender fluidity (shout out to the male dancers in this film). I mean, this movie is in France, but the U.S. was pretty rad back in the day too. </div>
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Every shot in this film has a purpose. Every prop has a purpose. You can tell that the people who were the set and costume designers LOVED this film so much. You can really see how much work they put into it. It just makes me happy, but also a bit sad. </div>
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One of my favorite outfit combos in the film happens to be worn by a couple secondary characters. These punk rock dancers decide to leave their asshole partners (hell yeah) a couple days before their performance . The matching shirts immediately caught my eye. Silver and gold? Glittery? Neck scarves ? Beautiful.<br />
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And their pants! Vintage 60's disco pants, I die. Metallic silver and gold AGAIN. Matchy-matchy. Ugh. So into it. I apologize for not writing in complete sentences but I literally cannot get past this look. In conjunction with their amazingly perfect hair-dos and makeup looks, these killer babes finally say au revoir to their counterparts, but of course not without a dance sequence first. </div>
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Like a mentioned earlier (in a fragmented manner), I loved the set design of this film as well. In particular, there was a shot where Delphine's dress matched the building she was walking by. Can that be a thing? Matching your clothes to building colors? They even painted the fire hydrant pink when Delphine crashes into a mystery man (in a pastel purple suit, mind you). </div>
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Overall, this film is pretty happy-go-lucky. There aren't any painful scenes. You can expect a song every 10 minutes minimum. I know that doesn't sound like many people's cup of tea, but if anything, you should watch this film to remember what 60's pop art/ French New Wave cinema used to be. Remember it and respect it for what it was, and what we have lost. I found myself wondering where all of these beautiful clothes went. In some storage closet? A charity shop? A landfill? R.I.P. excessive and beautiful living. </div>
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Well, that about does it for my Film Muse. I hope you all enjoyed this random pick. If you know of any great french films you think I should check out, leave them in the comments down below. With that, I will leave you with one of my favorite scenes of <i>Les Demoiselles de Rochefort</i>. Have a good one!</div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/E54oL26ZnyQ?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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-Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion</div>
<br />Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-38132042571666160582013-10-06T10:02:00.001-07:002014-08-24T17:44:35.445-07:00Life Round Here <div style="text-align: center;">
Hm. So many thoughts.</div>
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It's been a while, you and I. I am sorry. It happened: college. Everything I thought I knew about life was flipped upside down when I realized for the next 6 months I will be wearing flip flops in a cockroach infested dorm shower once again. But how are you?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6ciSahtADBOnxKdzh_75_ULg54FkmwXL5esNyZOT1g8zBsGyFunYIQZbjAi4xMFsDnzqgFnbhOjdrhIEY4pPFO5T010Rl1fChD1T4FlA-nKCfSg6_38-4IvfgTqn_-20P8XMPO2f9dc/s1600/cigs+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx6ciSahtADBOnxKdzh_75_ULg54FkmwXL5esNyZOT1g8zBsGyFunYIQZbjAi4xMFsDnzqgFnbhOjdrhIEY4pPFO5T010Rl1fChD1T4FlA-nKCfSg6_38-4IvfgTqn_-20P8XMPO2f9dc/s640/cigs+1.jpg" height="510" width="640" /></a></div>
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(sketchbook inspo)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCi5ALQqKGkAJxIUYZE6MxJg7_57jwS9So-q1QTQFaliPSMqApnOkvtpMYDbCjJ4zRNtcpabEz2RYNTXqwELlLOQs4bLkN-6OTrwDZOizXngYXVSsDw1et6PVD9849wt4VS_FaMP8FeU/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-09-03+at+4.01.40+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXCi5ALQqKGkAJxIUYZE6MxJg7_57jwS9So-q1QTQFaliPSMqApnOkvtpMYDbCjJ4zRNtcpabEz2RYNTXqwELlLOQs4bLkN-6OTrwDZOizXngYXVSsDw1et6PVD9849wt4VS_FaMP8FeU/s640/Screen+shot+2013-09-03+at+4.01.40+PM.png" height="357" width="640" /></a></div>
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(still from my video!)</div>
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Remember when I made those fuzzy pouches on my Youtube channel? Missed that boat? Ok, you can see it <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3y_pgp55oPA&feature=c4-overview&list=UUz7MHg1G2GZnfje9MAPxeng" target="_blank">here</a>. Anyways, I found the coolest use for it! As some of you may know, I'm living in the dorms again this year. My room came adorned with these gross (v. porous) cork boards circa 1970, but I've been having so much fun collaging them. I ended up pinning that pouch onto the board and now it holds my pens. THE LITTLE THINGS, I TELL YOU!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmEluUUOwxEac1KzHhczN6_e-2dsbSFusHTBDkp-ULpSZuedVXfjYS-gNSaZ9oTWWw5lWzj6ezo67uHfUcua3jaPovw17sUsDdFHTU-5dRE_7OYa7_pAu4oAXsgsYGQi9ZgsIPE9L7B0Y/s1600/R1-06981-0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmEluUUOwxEac1KzHhczN6_e-2dsbSFusHTBDkp-ULpSZuedVXfjYS-gNSaZ9oTWWw5lWzj6ezo67uHfUcua3jaPovw17sUsDdFHTU-5dRE_7OYa7_pAu4oAXsgsYGQi9ZgsIPE9L7B0Y/s640/R1-06981-0014.jpg" height="429" width="640" /></a></div>
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(my little pouch just hangin')</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVmzCi5TTezE0eYVBqzo_DqvfrXLzH21YtrdiAp_B_gLIWHjbf7uKHlo7nuLwQ9bGn75_jUVmmh4dbqBBKm_-SfgAkCQnLZuWsmSzc_lM27Iprf2Z2ASpM4SXUi9lTEoGSMALs8gX5Lo/s1600/me+today.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwVmzCi5TTezE0eYVBqzo_DqvfrXLzH21YtrdiAp_B_gLIWHjbf7uKHlo7nuLwQ9bGn75_jUVmmh4dbqBBKm_-SfgAkCQnLZuWsmSzc_lM27Iprf2Z2ASpM4SXUi9lTEoGSMALs8gX5Lo/s640/me+today.jpg" height="547" width="640" /></a></div>
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I've also been into selfies recently. Outfit/collage/art selfies - that is. This one is from my tumblr (<a href="http://justacurbsideprophet.tumblr.com/post/62072363366/fall-weather-man" target="_blank">here</a>). I have been loving this outfit combo - head to toe thrifted! Check it out. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXh2bZZxe0XffDPQ5Y4bBGG6dC7aB_8wFO9XGoN7EI_QOC656avItoCLerzrTIBAo77vZjO-kLReCsuYkxeTcC4rY1RbKwV0gOpwMEg8bzPtE1Jccs_j22VKUbG5ZpnHTBeHDwhiyt6U/s1600/R1-06981-0013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZXh2bZZxe0XffDPQ5Y4bBGG6dC7aB_8wFO9XGoN7EI_QOC656avItoCLerzrTIBAo77vZjO-kLReCsuYkxeTcC4rY1RbKwV0gOpwMEg8bzPtE1Jccs_j22VKUbG5ZpnHTBeHDwhiyt6U/s640/R1-06981-0013.jpg" height="429" width="640" /></a></div>
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(My other "mood board" at the moment. And Stewart Pickles contemplating life at 3 in the morning whilst making pudding for Angelica. )</div>
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And then there is college again: amazing. I sort of had a rocky start but I finally feel like I've found my groove here. It's different - being a sophomore. I know that sounds so douchey, but it is. It reminds me of that episode (S3E10) of Workaholics when the theatre kid is talking down to the freshmen: </div>
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"I have a bevvy of mixers off campus to attend. Do you know about off campus? Or are you only aware of the world immediatley in front of you?" - Theatre Ass</div>
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It's so true though. I can't believe that I've only discovered this new world my second year. Sure, there were times last year, but I felt like a foreigner. Now it seems so natural. It feels good to annex toxic people and start over. I finally feel like I'm past it all. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzpz3x_n4yPAABqLXWxcmHnom6XWe1FwEOeWH3SQWwHSL3hyJzpfcHPYMkhKEbxKYz-ljfTel5JXo1N09l01Pxmxf1wGCC9NdBLRFJsifu8Ke19niCbVSWlNgIQuD6H2S8f8y70Ub7hY/s1600/R1-06981-0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvzpz3x_n4yPAABqLXWxcmHnom6XWe1FwEOeWH3SQWwHSL3hyJzpfcHPYMkhKEbxKYz-ljfTel5JXo1N09l01Pxmxf1wGCC9NdBLRFJsifu8Ke19niCbVSWlNgIQuD6H2S8f8y70Ub7hY/s640/R1-06981-0004.jpg" height="429" width="640" /></a></div>
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As you can probably tell, I've been taking even more film pictures lately. I love that shit. I know, cue the eye rolls, but I LIVE FOR 35MM! Something about it. I like not being able to edit your pictures or even see them, I think it captures the beauty of REAL still life. And you treat every picture like a mini portrait because you know you only have "X" amount of shots left. Yeah, you might not look model worthy in the photo, but it was a real - non staged - moment in time and I feel like that is really beautiful. Imperfections are beautiful. People are beautiful.</div>
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Alright, it's getting weird. That is my cue to go.</div>
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Keep it cool,</div>
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Lauren Rose </div>
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<br />Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4983736566980421299.post-19536452174841320232013-09-15T18:45:00.002-07:002013-09-15T18:56:18.381-07:00Film Muse: Whip It (2009)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<i>Whip It</i>. Directed by Drew Barrymore (2009).</div>
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AMAZING.</div>
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Man, films like these make me not feel shitty about the movie industry. Do you ever watch movies that just try so hard that you just can't unsee all the flaws in it? Well, this isn't like that. At all. <i>Whip It</i> is a magical movie that somehow vibes in it's own world away from mediocre filmmaking. It's like everyone who made this film/acts in it is in on some big non threatening inside joke. Like a family or some shit. Okay, time to get eloquent. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRidfgi6egmfropLoW1MFox2Ft4APfE2kLUJHJFC7iCRikESXkih4CtjqWaR549OioERsl-2h5eGre-MkROr4SqvoZ7x06lZ1leEX-OsEKmo822rB5_x8Ngp2lojko2p5mkNT3ZTRlT4/s1600/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o1_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdRidfgi6egmfropLoW1MFox2Ft4APfE2kLUJHJFC7iCRikESXkih4CtjqWaR549OioERsl-2h5eGre-MkROr4SqvoZ7x06lZ1leEX-OsEKmo822rB5_x8Ngp2lojko2p5mkNT3ZTRlT4/s640/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o1_1280.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipReK4AoLOwCQJaQ3_JBG6s7Bd8MUZ4QW4b0LkT8PdMMzHMU8vtuIPhXpEa11iG98ExDm6D7nomPcJhKLPoIwCr_5xlCrXGikKU_qq9MGuWM9Z113e3yYUhyHwlZGVy4NOKxh67y5VEoA/s1600/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o2_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipReK4AoLOwCQJaQ3_JBG6s7Bd8MUZ4QW4b0LkT8PdMMzHMU8vtuIPhXpEa11iG98ExDm6D7nomPcJhKLPoIwCr_5xlCrXGikKU_qq9MGuWM9Z113e3yYUhyHwlZGVy4NOKxh67y5VEoA/s640/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o2_1280.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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(*choking* "I'm your only friend!!") </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRp_GS3ahIRxa-VQhegYmVcOb0OjYsUpkT2arTD4MiC6iaklZbU1gi3goTD7ADO5NTeNArFHH4OMJKP_6txYyvfdoy9rFzHXo5LfHPL-fmj-ZSHXBzEWzJPVBn9hEAPwu8J1OEEwyflD8/s1600/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o5_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRp_GS3ahIRxa-VQhegYmVcOb0OjYsUpkT2arTD4MiC6iaklZbU1gi3goTD7ADO5NTeNArFHH4OMJKP_6txYyvfdoy9rFzHXo5LfHPL-fmj-ZSHXBzEWzJPVBn9hEAPwu8J1OEEwyflD8/s640/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o5_1280.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i>Whip It</i> is this rad film based off a book called <u>Derby Girl</u> by Shauna Cross. It follows the story of Bliss Cavender (Ellen Page) - a teenage nobody much to her parents' dismay, from Bodine, Texas. When her mom takes her to a head shop (<i>dying</i>) something magical happens- the local derby girls come in to drop off flyers for their next match. Bliss and her best friend Pash (Alia Shawkat) then speed off in her grandma's Chevy Celebrity to Austin Texas. A.k.a. - a whole new world of awesome. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHW2U7e0HM_4qxZG1U3FFMF03sBy-KALcSNYC4EbcnpsBSzwpqE8UGwfWsolynQNCk0YQLw81GEw1i13bypkhihyphenhyphenhm_krlU-wlfkUmsUCAKevRE_2T4UAWiZeTQy2JPyeB7HTZFql05YU/s1600/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o6_1280.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHW2U7e0HM_4qxZG1U3FFMF03sBy-KALcSNYC4EbcnpsBSzwpqE8UGwfWsolynQNCk0YQLw81GEw1i13bypkhihyphenhyphenhm_krlU-wlfkUmsUCAKevRE_2T4UAWiZeTQy2JPyeB7HTZFql05YU/s640/tumblr_mrwnq80Lwf1s8dmv9o6_1280.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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("Ooooh! Pretty vases!")</div>
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I guess I should have mentioned this earlier. This Film Muse post is going to have a butt load of film stills. This is probably one of the most aesthetically appealing movies I've ever seen. I think it's supposed to be set in the late '90s (no cell phones), but they don't force that down the audiences' throats. I like that. The thought that went into every shot and every character is insane. </div>
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("I like your hair" "Thanks! I did it myself!")</div>
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When I first saw this movie back in '09, I did what every impressionable youth does - I wanted to be derby girl. Okay, maybe not do derby, but I wanted to rollerblade down my own street without hurting myself. I strapped up my skates and set out on a wobbling adventure that was actually way more difficult than I thought. I ended up tripping over a twig (YES A TWIG) and scraping up my leg. Punk rock - right? I still have the scar. </div>
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What I like about this film is that it encourages young women to be brave. To get outside their comfort zones and defy stereotypes. Of course along the way it might be shitty, but ultimately euphoria will kick in. One of my favorite lines from the movie is when Bliss' mother is lecturing her about spending her time doing something like derby - and she responds:<br />
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Bliss' Mom: "This is a MOMENT..."</div>
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Bliss: "Well how great is that?"<br />
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What a great line. </div>
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And then we have the boy. THE boy. Ugh. So cute - yet so painful. I think this was a beautiful take on first time love. The infatuation, the meaningless activities that you do together that actually mean everything to you, and the secret language you both communicate in with just a stupid smile. He broke my heart as much as he broke Bliss'. She gave you her Stryper "In Jesus We Rock" shirt - I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU, WE WERE ALL ROOTING FOR YOU. HOW DARE YOU! (second time I've referenced Tyra on my blog- mind you). </div>
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(Favorite wet dream: Boy + 7 Eleven)</div>
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(Are yOu kidDing me???)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObUOgSqtncGUofUNYGDmig_PThF1u1VR2uz4SbHHHW76TbkYXorEQM-IjbL6XXSebAs5ceY2bgFTrIdiIsv5HpcWpv2pCGmoymqnqcQb6_6IwXfM8GuJTCCxNv20fzHIXDHrp4NikDgA/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.24.53+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhObUOgSqtncGUofUNYGDmig_PThF1u1VR2uz4SbHHHW76TbkYXorEQM-IjbL6XXSebAs5ceY2bgFTrIdiIsv5HpcWpv2pCGmoymqnqcQb6_6IwXfM8GuJTCCxNv20fzHIXDHrp4NikDgA/s640/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.24.53+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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(HELL YEAH)</div>
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Oh. And Jimmy Fallon plays the ultimate sleaze-ball announcer to a T . Look at his gaudy blue suit. HE WAS HILARIOUS. You go Jimmy. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUc9dmTcfJ8ca4lE8G8bSARHhIh4LCcCka6dK71SewPBa9yX_BmgebvEnXk4051860goRN6VaPtwTVQR01g5TV54C1DDVyow-LfvlVnZARdCeYzluB_pA3GXfjq2I4WZrlH7jdseZx6M/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.26.14+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVUc9dmTcfJ8ca4lE8G8bSARHhIh4LCcCka6dK71SewPBa9yX_BmgebvEnXk4051860goRN6VaPtwTVQR01g5TV54C1DDVyow-LfvlVnZARdCeYzluB_pA3GXfjq2I4WZrlH7jdseZx6M/s640/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.26.14+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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Lastly - let's just give a shout out to the good family vibes. What I learned from this film is that being a teenager isn't all about opposition, it's about living your life in the most fulfilling ways - while still considering your parent's perspectives. You aren't always going to meet your family's expectations, but it doesn't mean they won't love you for what you do. Maybe this is a too "happy go lucky" way of going about it, but I like the way it sounds - so I'm sticking to it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiyqrzEh1NTPzXp-3xTgXwoVcCwkaCcc4S72Ta-NgpVsaNyaYwMGkHqJt0zTGlGnnmF1A8JJECjgKiQNIeFMgg-NxVW8cImND5rTXIQzUTrDalRvWkaPHhl6ZH-w3x2uaQyShBke2w14/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.28.58+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiyqrzEh1NTPzXp-3xTgXwoVcCwkaCcc4S72Ta-NgpVsaNyaYwMGkHqJt0zTGlGnnmF1A8JJECjgKiQNIeFMgg-NxVW8cImND5rTXIQzUTrDalRvWkaPHhl6ZH-w3x2uaQyShBke2w14/s640/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.28.58+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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With that, I'm going to leave you with one of the most amazing shots of the film: Bliss sitting on the Oink Joint pig. God bless the cinematographer. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNltyC15CSQUaPykhhBrpkSJ4wzx-_mnb_oQd1NxMwEv-4BcQZkIovYQ6BNeIHGA-kgsHYnioLOJzz1qi86SuaVM19BQfGhDJDYirmvlNAJqY7LuAQ3oOuxzeVqt0IVED1SkX1FpIf-GM/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.29.37+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="399" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNltyC15CSQUaPykhhBrpkSJ4wzx-_mnb_oQd1NxMwEv-4BcQZkIovYQ6BNeIHGA-kgsHYnioLOJzz1qi86SuaVM19BQfGhDJDYirmvlNAJqY7LuAQ3oOuxzeVqt0IVED1SkX1FpIf-GM/s640/Screen+shot+2013-09-07+at+11.29.37+AM.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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If you haven't seen this movie - I've probably spoiled it for you. Actually, wait. I haven't. Still watch it anyways. It's amazing.</div>
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Keep it cool, </div>
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Lauren Rose</div>
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Curbside Fashion </div>
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P.S.</div>
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Best of <i>Whip It's</i> Soundtrack</div>
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(!!!= extra good)</div>
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E7HjBr_QMXI" target="_blank">Pot Kettle Black - Tilly and The Wall</a> (!!!)</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-nlX7P0nhaI" target="_blank">Sheena Is A Punk Rocker - Ramones</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7AVHXe-ol-s" target="_blank">What's The Attitude - Cut Chemist Feat. Hymnal</a> </div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkZVcCLKhYo" target="_blank">Bang On - The Breeders </a> (!!!)</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mc9CuH0GJoI" target="_blank">Blue Turning Grey - Clap Your Hands Say Yeah </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0xqPyp-cyY" target="_blank">Your Arms Around Me - Jens Lekman </a></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qcKMg7eEjj8" target="_blank">Boys Wanna Be Her - Peaches</a> (!!!)</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGEubdH8m0s" target="_blank">Jolene - Dolly Parton</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zg21Rkew874" target="_blank">Caught Up In You - 38 Special</a> (!!!)</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D0RVdnBc1JE" target="_blank">Black Gloves - Goose</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mHbrKjK_hKY" target="_blank">Crown of Age - The Ettes</a> (!!!)</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nP9ZmPP5vi4" target="_blank">Lollipop [Squeak E. Clean & Desert Eagles Remix]</a> (!!!)</div>
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p_LoSqyNmeo" target="_blank">Doing It Right - The Go! Team</a></div>
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<br />Lauren Rosehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18337158811819063139noreply@blogger.com4