I read the NY Times interview with Charlotte Rampling. She's promoting her new movie, "45 years" based on a short story by David Constantine. I bought and downloaded his collection "In Another Country" and have immersed myself in its melancholy.
An old and good one: Colin Hay- Waiting for My Real Life to Begin. I love this guy and have seen him live a few years ago. Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman were in the audience. In case you wondered: Hugh Jackman is a wonderful dancer.
Waiting for the new season of Transparent. Tried watching Jessica Jones, and I should have liked it but didn't, despite Krysten Ritter being my girl crush. I guess it's the subject matter.
And can we talk for a second about Once Upon a Time? To say that it jumped the shark is a ridiculous understatement. It's more like the show has somersaulted the shark and was then eaten by it.
Vintage Bal a Versailles. I can't get enough lately. Thankful for having quite a few backups.
All the eye shadows in the world. Each and every one.
Frequently Worn Outfit/Item
Sweaters. It's not cold enough to wear coats or heavy jackets, so it's light cashmere sweaters with everything.
Ginger snaps. I forgot how much I love them.
I'm in a food rut, actually. Half the time I can't even remember what I like. I miss summer tomatoes.
An old injury (old as from high school) has been bothering me some mornings. Thankfully, cranking up the heat makes it go away.
Our guest room has seen several occupants over the last month, and our living room even more. Apparently I'm more social than I ever thought.
Our annual staycation between Christmas and the New Year.
This is ridiculous, I know, especially since I usually stay far far away from obviously branded items. I have an old Burberry scarf that I love and wear because it's not in the traditional colors and the plaid is more subtle. But here I am, going nuts over this twist on the classic. The polka dots come in other colors, but I love the burnt orange. LOVE. $650 on Burberry.com.
My iPod is really cheating when in shuffle mode. And it needs to explain its unnatural attachment to Richard Shindell. Enough is enough.
How are you doing? Please share your recommendations, loves, banes, and random thoughts!
Art: Charles Burchfield- Rainy Night, 1930