Japanese Foot Tattoo - Japanese Ink

Japanese Foot Tattoo - Japanese Ink

William Maxwell: Seersucker Insouciance

Here’s editor and author William Maxwell. In seersucker—and an unbuttoned button-down. Certainly in his dotage but until the end, very much present…and interested in people and their words.

My first reaction to the unbuttoned button-down was a bit of a Gianni Agnelli esque takeaway. You know…careless aplomb…unfinished finishing touches…watch worn on the outside cuff of a dress shirt… insouciance but not arrogance. I’ll never be in their league. My insecurities demand that I crow, preen and shout about my whateverishness. They just had it.

But then it dawned on me simultaneously that William Maxwell was anything but an Agnelli. Too gentle though, I’ll speculate, to be offended by my comparison. Maxwell probably didn’t have a business or commercial bone in his body. Agnelli’s business acumen is legendary. What they both probably had in common was an adherence to a code…each their own… regarding dress and deportment whose endgame said that neither studied it too much.

I’ve been on a New Yorker magazine tear of late and it’s been great fun. Fuelled by a reader who kindly sent me Genet, the biography of Janet Flanner. Flanner delivered to Harold Ross and the New Yorker gang, dispatches from Paris for fifty years.

But before I could begin the Flanner book I decided to reference a thing or two from the Harold Ross biography. And then I had to pull William Shawn from the shelf. And then Truman Capote popped his elfin-ass little head up again as a result of my peek in on Shawn. I’m telling you, ADD is a gift and a curse. Oh, and I was so re-captivated by the Ross bio that I read the entire thing again.

So then at five thirty this morning I picked up this little William Maxwell tribute book. I’ve read at least once , all of the aforementioned save Flanner. Same for the Maxwell tribute but I remembered dogging a few page ears and so here we are…Maxwellizing on an early Friday morning. Editors intrigue me. I don’t know how Maxwell Perkins tended to Hemingway, Fitzgerald and Wolfe…while also loving a wife and five daughters. I do know that he worked all day with his hat on and had martinis everyday at lunch over at 21. Whatever works I suppose.

Unlike Perkins though, William Maxwell was a prolific editor and writer. I’ve yet to read any of Maxwell’s stories but I will.  And he edited the biggies while in the employ of The New Yorker…Updike, Salinger, Nabokov and a guy named Cheever to name a few. I love what Eudora Welty said about Maxwell the editor… "For fiction writers, he was the headquarters."

A William Maxwell Portrait helped me see what a life of well measured and properly cadenced literary guidance nets out. Legacies are self explanatory and the acolytes, protégées and people who simply loved Maxwell are clear in their convictions.

I like what Michael Collier wrote about his Maxwell experience... “I was to learn that what one should live for more than anything else are small moments of overwhelming astonishment.”  Damn. That probably sums up Maxwell right there.

And Edward Hirsch said… “I had never met anyone, let alone an old man, who seemed so emotionally present. It ran against the grain of my experience to find someone who had not been stopped or closed up, who had not been defeated by old age.”  Emotionally present? Shit, people will be hiding from my ass if I’m still around at eighty.

And what Maxwell said about genuine interest in others…

“All pleasure is got from the rubbing-off of somebody else’s pleasure in something. From eye to eye, skin to skin. A cousin of love making.”  

Charlie Rose offers us an interesting peek at Maxwell. When you have time, take a look at this.

What I’ll leave you with though, is a dichotomy that makes me respect Maxwell all the more. Get the book and read the profound difference in the way Donna Tartt delvers homage versus Ben Cheever’s uniquely assembled gratitude.

Donna Tartt…  “Love at first sight? I can safely say that I loved him the instant I saw him. He carried himself carefully (age had made him frail) but as old as he was—well into his eighties then—he was still very handsome. His spare Midwestern elegance…”

And his paucity of words manifested in the inscription of Maxwell’s book So Long, See You Tomorrow, gifted to Tartt…

“Dear Donna,

I hope you like my farmers-

Bill”

Ben Cheever… “William Maxwell had trouble believing in God. I had trouble believing in Bill Maxwell.”    and “…I suppose you could say that I was expecting Bill to morph into my father, and there’s some truth here. I missed my father and what I missed most acutely in my father was the occasional brilliant flash of rage, which used to illuminate my world. So I was looking for lightning but to reduce my friendship with Bill to its connection with my father would be the same as to conclude that a man with an umbrella is a meteorologist.”

So I’m pleased that my five thirty gander at William Maxwell this morning was evocative. On the other hand, damn you sblr for setting me on this latest round of .... AlgonquinRoundishSmartMagazinesBygoneEraLiteraryVoyeurism.

Onward. With no idea what color my blog background should be. But realizing that if I was more confident of the content, I wouldn’t give a damn about the aesthetics. Damn, that’s me.

ADG

Engagement story

We got engaged in New York. He was there on business and I'd joined him there for the weekend. Whilst he was in meetings, I was busy popping into all the expensive jewellery stores on Fifth Avenue, looking for the ring (I wasn't going to let him choose!). That was so much fun.

I knew it was going to be Tiffany's, though. Walking into their flagship store was an experience in itself and upstairs where all the engagement rings are (or were, at least), I even saw (a) Holly Golightly! Seriously.

I chose two rings and 'reserved' them. The sales assistant was polite but not super friendly or anything. He did ask for my boyfriend / fiancé's name before I left.

And the next day, we walked in. He recognised me, then looked at my fiancé. He suddenly became the most charming person ever. With a big smile, he walked over to meet us and addressed my fiancé by name. Maybe I should have been offended by this transformation but I was too amazed and impressed!

Another funny thing I remember is that every time we wanted to look at a ring by the big window (different lighting), the sales assistant had to 'inform' the bodyguard. Yes, there was a bodyguard standing by the window! Did they think we were going to jump out of the window with the ring?! 

Now tell me your story! Did you know he was going to propose? Did you choose the ring with him? 

Or how do you want it to be?

1, 2, 3

Say cheese!

I am seriously addicted to Parmesan!

I can't seem to live without it these days. I use it in salads, soups, pasta and risotto dishes obviously, and fish for (I think) the first time last night (it was a Jamie Oliver recipe). The official website says Parmesan is perfect as a starter, main and dessert! (See their serving suggestions here.)

Dessert? Yes, apparently you can have parmesan with fruit. Have you tried it? I'm not too sure about this.

But what I'm even more unsure about is parmesan ice cream. What do you think?!

Photos

Mid Week Trad Musings and Give Me Your Feedback

Post Update: I got feedback that the black background on my blog made it difficult to read so I changed it. Now I'm getting grief from regular readers. For example...
From:  @mindspring.com] 

Sent: Wednesday, July 28, 2010 9:57 AM To: D     G Subject: today's PS

I DO NOT like the new color scheme.  I may go on a commenting strike until you change it - and that brown - yuck.  The original was elegant but this is just mundane.

From: @mindspring.com] Sent: Wednesday, July 28, 2010 12:42 PM To: D G Subject: RE: today's PS

I mean what I say. The distinctive look is G-O-N-E

Ok people, help me out. What should the damn thing look like?

Now back to my post....God has blessed me with a current workload that is rewarding and demanding. I’ve always said that life is too short to do something professionally that isn’t enjoyable but let’s be realistic here…some aspect of all careers is less enjoyable than others. I’m cranking out follow-up material and new project proposals this week…not as fun as being front and center with bright clients who are willing to be challenged and grow. But I can’t have one aspect of my gig without the other.

And so my blessed dilemma leaves me too busy to craft anything approaching erudition or captivating for my blog. I’ve got tons of raw material and when I have some time, I’ll surely fire off a zinger or two for you. For example, we will...

Witness me gloating over the fact that I now have copies of Downbeat Magazine from the late 1930’s and you don't. Issues that include the edgy rhetoric of a twenty seven year old George Frazier. I’ve had to remind myself several times that these trade rag stories I’m reading were published in the 30’s…why? Because other than being just a delightful assemblage of wit and words, this stuff would be edgy by today’s standards. A testament to Frazier’s budding Acidmouth genius. There is no wonder why Richard Merkin loved George Frazier. And thanks to a Maxminimus reader, I've now engaged in a very nice email exchange with George Frazier, IV. He's given me permission to post some of the musings that he and I have shared about his father. And people wonder why I don't watch television. 

Discuss the merits of using dark brown polish for the maiden shine on whiskey shell cordovan monk straps. Cordovan delivers depth and “patina upon arrival” but the lighter versions of cordovan tend to look a bit plastic-ey until you rough ‘em up and shine ‘em up a bit. I care not what your opinion is regarding the outcome of my dark brown appliqué. The fact of the matter is that these babies are now wallowing in depth of sheen and patinated pleasure. And on certain days, they’ve invited my feet to join them. Shut up.

Debate to what degree I should give Thom Browne…the sartorial PeeWee Herman…any credit for the trend in slimmer flat front trousers and shorter pant lengths. I’m way too commercial versus artistic when it comes to said assessments and I still think the guy’s stuff is a joke. But I’m gonna have to throw him a small bone. But not a nice soup bone that a dog would relish. Maybe a chicken neck-bone. My aunt Tootie could gnaw a neck-bone like a work of art. She'd throw it out back after finishing with it and the dogs would look at it like "...and you want me to do what with that damn thing?" We’ll see.

Allow me to explain why I gladly though, give Sid Mashburn credit for taking the Southern Prep legacy to an edgier place. I shortened and frayed an old pair of 501s in homage to his style tweak. It’s a look I like. Sid gets it.

Ask while speaking of sartorial Atlanta, whatever happened to the pugnacious, pudgy poseur Edgar Pomeroy? He looks like Truman Capote...but in size 58 font.

Now I’m not saying that Pomeroy or any other clothier is for certain having Adrian Jules or Martin Greenfield do the initial cut and sew on their garments. The Pomeroy goods may be imagined, cut, sewn and finished right there on the premises. After all, Atlanta has a rich history of highly capable tailors flocking there to ply their talents. Don't misunderstand me...Jules and Greenfield do stellar work. But it won’t be purely bespoke and therefore price points should reflect this. Word is that a Pomeroy suit can cost up to 5k. If so, then every damn pattern snip and stitch better be bespoken. ‘Cause now were talking Anderson and Sheppard and maybe even Huntsman price points.

And these Pomeroy slippers better be for women. These things look like the result of a pair of Cole-Haans, a pair of Ballys and a ballet slipper getting a little too jiggy in a hot tub threesome with no birth control. And this is coming from ADG…aka…Eddie Espadrille…Sammy Slipper…Bobby Belgian. I’m gay. From the ankles down. I’ve got references to support that all above the ADG ankle remains voraciously “the other way”.

Argue I’m sure, over my post on Jeans and the Middle Aged Man. What kind to wear and at what age should you hang them up for good. Surprise, I have strong opinions here. If I want your opinion, I’ll give it to you.

Discuss why I believe my Tiffany ADG belt buckle father’s day gift from LFG will be a lifetime treasure.

Deconstruct the rumour regarding whether or not I’m really the love child of Gilligan and Thurston Howell, III

 The evidence is scant but there are some of you who insist on this being sorted out.

Examine my latest martini photo collection. Recognizing that the Marriott in Dallas last week provided me martinis with kind of a safety handle—double gripper stem. Aesthetically vulgar but useful when you have the shakes and manda-damn-tory when you have the shakes, rattles and rolls. Oh shut the h_ll up.

But then sigh with relief that at home, I don’t need a martini glass with training wheels or gutter bumpers. But I do need jalapeno stuffed olives.

Recognize that out of every one thousand people I see in airports, one will have a level of trad style that reflects simplicity and good taste…without breaking the bank. Case in point above…DFW last week.

Then allow me to contradict the above assertion by having me admit that I travel in this getup for several reasons. First, I don’t give a damn. Second, it’s been averaging a hundred degrees where I’ve been. Third, you know that I don’t like to pack sportcoats so I wear them on the plane, then steam them for hours in the hotel shower.

And finally, I’ll force you to admit that if you could traverse an airport concourse in this rig with any level of confidence, you’d do the same damn thing. Don’t touch this one if you can’t pull it off. There’s a difference between people staring and people laughing. The day people stop staring at me will be the day I worry. The day people are laughing at you is the day you need not take on the edgier ADG contrivances. Commando in this heat BTW.

NOT open the debate again regarding the Adirondack—Gibson Island genesis issue. These are Gibson Island chairs so shut up. And they are no longer British Racing Green. Not that I don’t still do from time to time, some British and some Racy shit in these chairs…it’s just that we needed a little sprucing up over here at CasaMinimus. Racy shit-bad choice of words. Sorry.

Allow me to once again, gloat chauvinistically regarding why it is so damn easy to be a guy and that there’s never a more compelling bit of evidence than my week’s worth of toiletries for Dallas.

Onward. Random even when medicated.

ADG

Oh and Ps…

A couple of housekeeping things …I’m sorry that the black background was challenging for many of you to read. I’m a techno-luddite when it comes to these kinds of things and as soon as I got some specific feedback on the need to change it, I did. You might find some old posts that need font color adjustment though. If you do run across one, I’d appreciate an email letting me know so that I can fix it. Maxminimus2000@yahoo.com

Also, I’m not sure about this Feedblitz service. So I’m going to add the Google Friends thing as an alternative and request, if you want to, that you sign up for my blog via that venue.

Beauty sleep is not a myth

Now I have another good reason to dislike those people from last week: not only did they damage my new car, they robbed me of my beauty sleep!

"Beauty sleep is not a myth and sleep does lessen the severity of wrinkles in the face and neck, at least temporarily. This period of deep sleep... contributes to what people call "beauty sleep" as secretion of growth hormone helps repair and rebuild body tissues like muscle and bone. It is not just lack of sleep that negatively affects body fat percentage and the risk of chronic disease—poor sleep quality does as well." (source) 

I've talked about the Sleep Cycle app on my iPhone before (here and here). I looked back at my sleeping patterns following the accident (story here) and sure enough, I've been sleeping poorly.

To set the scene: the night before, I slept like a baby. Perfect beauty sleep.

Then the incident. I was really upset and couldn't sleep.

Next night: exhausted. I went to bed just after 9pm. I thought I slept ok. But I seem to have spent quite a few of those hours 'awake'.

After that: even worse. Not much (deep) sleep at all.

I hope you are getting enough beauty sleep!

The French Riviera

I'm going to the south of France in August!

A friend of mine has a house there and she has invited me over! I am only going for a few days because I have other commitments but it doesn't matter. I'm taking my son with me (my poor husband has to work!) so we'll probably spend lots of time doing nothing by the pool. I can't wait!

Have you ever been to the Côte d'Azur?

Photos

What Happened At The Giant...

...grocery store.

Anonymous said...

"Your devoted fans want to know what happened at the Giant on Saturday".

The reason Anonymous said that is because I said...

…”If all you want to do is get laid, save your match.com money and simply wear that rig to the grocery store. That would be the Giant grocery store in Old Town Alexandria…4:15 pm tomorrow afternoon. I’ll have my coon skin cap on”.

And then MegTown over at PigTown Design emailed me this article from the Washington Post. Kinda sums it up I reckon.

Ed Hardy Tattoos - Lower Back Design

Ed Hardy Lower Back Design
Ed Hardy has contributed a lot to the to the world of tattoos and he is well recognized today for his works. His art work have traveled many nations where the designs of Ed Hardy have been inked by many people. In this tattoo, depicted is a popular tattoo that is probably the most famous Ed Hardy Designs, "Love Kills Slowly", which is also a logo that is printed on shirts and clothing line by Christian Audigier, who was granted permission by Ed Hardy to print his designs.

Shadow art

What does this look like to you?

It's supposed to be a dog. It's a bit of hand shadow art... created with my hands, I'm proud to add. Well, at least I thought it was pretty good until I saw...

These by a professional duo:

And these - made with rubbish! Incredible!

How talented a shadow artist are you?!