vinyl memories

Record Store Day was Saturday, so I'm running a little late with this, but I thought I'd share some favorites from my own collection of vinyl.  I became a real music fan in the 1980s, when loving music meant:  listening to the radio, making mixtapes, watching that exciting new medium, the music video...and buying records.  I spent a fair amount of time hanging out in record stores--the town I grew up in had two independent record stores downtown--and I still do, on occasion (shout out to Grand Rapids' wonderful Vertigo Music!).

Just looking at some of these album covers brings back memories, almost the way an old photograph does.  Most of these records have traveled with me from Colorado to New York City, and from New York to Michigan.

I've owned the above four records since the 1980s.  The Psycho Candy album still has its $9.98 price sticker from Wax Trax Records in Denver.  The Joy Division record has a list of the album's songs, handwritten by me, slipped inside (since there was no track listing included with the album).

Sometimes I buy a record--ususally at a garage sale or thrift store--just because I like the cover.  I have a lot of cool old cocktail records that fit this description.  The Anatomy of a Murder album not only has a great artwork, but it's a fantastic soundtrack (and a fantastic film, set in Michigan's Upper Peninsula).  Those gorgeous flowers are on a more recent purchase, the Mark Lanegan Band's "Blues Funeral."  It's a double album with really cool marbled-look vinyl.  It is also, naturally, a fantastic sounding record.

That Dylan "Biograph" boxed set...well, I've owned it since I was 17 or 18, and you can tell it's gotten a lot of play.  "Hunky Dory" is one of my favorite Bowie albums, and this is the 1990 double album reissue with extra tracks and nifty clear vinyl.  (David Bowie was my gateway drug into music; he was the first good music I liked, and I was an obsessive fan of his as a youngster.  I own most of his work on vinyl.)  The Cat Stevens and Carroll and Lear Nonsense Verse records both belonged to my parents, and have now passed on to me.  Cat Stevens = the music of childhood.  The Nonsense Verse record is probably the oldest in my collection; it's from 1957.

And a bonus: Isaac Hayes' "Black Moses" album.  I'm not sure better album packaging has ever been done.  Amazing, isn't it?

xo

K

faux franch

You may ask yourself: "Why 'faux Franch'?" Well, I am wearing a beret, obviously. Also, everyone knows that when you want to sound French and obnoxious you pronounce "French" as "Franch."

I wore this on last Thursday's Date Night. I was looking forward to finally wearing the beret, an antique mall find, since I am so bad with hats.

This first photo was taken in front of the cool artwork in the window at Vertigo Music, our local indie record shop. We started out there so I could trade in credit I had for some of my old vinyl (don't worry--I kept most of it), and obtain some new music. But Herm was so busy buying other folks' collections (start of the month--rent due) that I just window-shopped. (For those who care here's my current music wishlist: Caitlin Rose "Own Side Now," Grinderman 2, Anna Calvi, Gruff Rhys "Hotel Shampoo." And I'm really excited for the release of King Creosote & Jon Hopkins "Diamond Mine" at the end of this month. Okay. Done nerding out on music.)

Outfit details:

*Beret: antique mall

*Silk skirt: thrifted

*Sweater: vintage, probably estate sale

*Jacket and tights: Target

*Pin on jacket: antique, from my grandma

*T-strap wedges: Aerosoles

*Purse: antique mall

Andy wanted me to post this photo, too, since he captured the skirt in full wind gust mode.

xo

K

proof of thrift

Fuzzylizzie, whose The Vintage Traveler blog is always full of wonderful vintage eye candy and information, made a thought-provoking post on Friday about the sizes of women's wardrobes through the years. It got me thinking about my grandmothers', mother's, and my own wardrobe.

My own wardrobe is rather large--larger than I'd like, frankly. (Poor Andy would agree. His clothing is relegated to the spare bedroom closets.) My closet is nearly entirely full of vintage and/or pieces that have been thrifted. Nonetheless, it's overdue for an editing session (i.e. spring cleaning), and, I'm embarrassed to admit, contains multiple pieces that have never been worn (many of the "this almost fits and I'm sure it will one day" category). But it's mostly pieces I've worn again and again, and will continue to wear, again and again. Here's proof.

Me, last January.

Me, last Thursday.

Nearly identical outfit. The sweater and belt are different. The haircut, too (still believe the shorter hair suits me best).

The occasion for this outfit was a night out on the town with Andy. We were headed to the Viceroy to see the Kent County String Band. Even though it's really dark, I love this photo of Andy in the bar with the old photograph and antlers behind him.

The band was really fun. I don't think you can go wrong with all-string versions of "Mack the Knife" and "In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning"!

xo

K

the frost is on the punkin

Actually, it looks like it's skipped straight to snow! Time to start thinking holidays, I guess. Here's a link to my new favorite seasonal tune, "Time of the Season" by Isobel Campbell and Mark Lanegan.

The song inspired me to make this pretty little Etsy treasury:

xo

K

radio is a sound salvation

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for something that--and this amazes me--didn't exist in my life until about 15 years ago. That thing is the internet.

Of course, I'm thankful that the internet allows me to make a living doing something I really love. But at the moment, I'm particularly thankful that it has rejuvenated my love of music. A month or so ago, a fellow Twitterer mentioned that BBC Radio 6 had a radio program hosted by Pulp frontman Jarvis Cocker--Jarvis Cocker's Sunday Service. (It's awesome. You should tune in, whether you're a Pulp/Jarvis fan or not.) I have been listening to the various BBC Radio 6 deejays every day since. They play great music. An amazing mix of indie, punk, and classics such as you will never ever hear on the suckfest that is American radio. (With the exception of the few excellent independent and college radio stations out there. But WFMU--I stopped trying to listen. Your media player never worked on my computer.) So I'm now a daily listener of Gideon Coe, Steve LaMacq, and Marc Riley, all of whom are making my ears very happy.

And it's this musical satisfaction that has infiltrated my latest shop preview. After song titles popped into my head for two or three of the items here, I figured I'd challenge myself to naming everything in it after a song. They're not all good songs, or songs I even like, and I doubt everyone will know all the songs I'm referencing.

But it was still fun. Enjoy!

Green Eyes velvet wiggle dress set with scallop edge top.

1950s Ice, Ice, Baby blue cashmere sweater, by St. Andrews.

Sound Off! 1960s ecru mod military dress.

Leopard and the Lamb wool coat, by Penguin.

The Lady is a Tramp. 1940s black taffeta party dress, by R&K Original.

Slit Skirts. Fringe-edged wool check skirt, by Korday.

Mod salmon pink English Rose scooter dress.

Crawl Babies fair isle cardigan.

Ready Steady Go! Red wool plaid dress, Prestige by David Presson.

Dear Prudence paisley print blouse, by Dearborn.

Dirty Old Town. 1960s Celtic print dress with ruffled collars and cuffs.

Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground. Rococo autumn sweater, by Sportempo.

My Blue Heaven satin party dress, by Miss Brooks.

A Good Year for the Roses. 1950s romantic blue and purple silk skirt.

1960s Green, Green Grass of Home dress, by Lampl.

A Natural Woman. 1970s Jeanne-Marc bohemian floral blouse.

You Trip Me Up. 1960s black velvet Bobbie Brooks jumper with embroidered pockets and neckline.

Undone--The Sweater Song. Bohemian striped bateau neck sweater with cuffs.

The Real Me. Blue and white mod dress with grosgrain bow at neck.

Straight to You. Black tiered taffeta skirt.

1940s Take the A Train dress with white passementerie trim.

1970s Lady Stardust rust suede and shearling coat.

1960s This Here Giraffe print dress.

Scarlet Billows (i.e. Mack the Knife) sharkskin blouse, by Lady Sutton.

Bad Liver and a Broken Heart. Wool coat with mink collar.

Stop Your Sobbing. 1981 Pretenders US tour t-shirt.

1960s Another Brick in the Wall dress.

I'm Turning Japanese. 1970s Vera Neumann dragonflies and cherry blossoms blouse.

Daisy, Daisy, Give Me Your Answer, Do. 1960s floral cardigan, by Kerrybrooke.

Navy wool plaid North Country Girl skirt suit, by McMullen.

xo

K

obsession

I have an obsession.

The last one was Elvis. It resulted in me buying up every Elvis cd available in the BMG music catalog. And in a pilgrimage to Graceland.

And one to Graceland Too.

I still like The King. I still think the '68 Comeback Special is awesome. But...I've moved on. I'm no longer obsessed.

I've had a nice, normal decade of liking, really liking, and even loving, lots of things. Andy, vintage clothing, Lucy, road trips, perfume, cocktails, food, Howard Dean... Everything was going nice and smoothly.

And then Scotland hit me.

I realize now it was meant to be. For example, some of my favorite bands from my formative years--Aztec Camera, The Waterboys, Jesus and Mary Chain--hail from Scotland. (Just FYI, TJ&MC and Pastels photos below link to cool videos by them, so you may want to turn down your volume if you're at work.)

And I know I'm really late to the party, but I've discovered these guys, and can't stop listening to them.

And of course, there was this. I don't think Trainspotting made me want to go to Scotland at the time. Junkies, filthy toilets--already had that in NYC. But the accents! Great movie, great soundtrack.

So anyway, I've become convinced Scotland and me are meant to be. I'm starting to develop a taste for this stuff.

And I have always loved tartan. This photo is from a gorgeous 2008 British Vogue story called Take the High Road. You can see more of the photos here. In my p-rock days I wore plaid tights just like the models in the shoot have on, and I would love another pair.

Probably the most famous Scottish fashion export next to tartan is Pringle knitwear. Here's Pringle back in the day, a twinset on the cover of Vogue.

And Pringle now, as worn by Tilda Swinton.

I love these looks from Pringle A/W 2010, updates to the traditional fisherman's sweater and Scotsman's kilt, for women.

And of course, there's this man, the lovely Mr. Alan Cumming. All men should dress like this. And he makes the only celeb perfume I would wear. Which is, naturally, called Cumming, and which has notes of leather, peat fire, highland mud, burned rubber and white truffle. You can see his cute ad for it here. (Coincidentally, I would also wear Tilda Swinton's perfume, which is called Like This.)

Seriously. You're just not going to get an anti-kilt argument out of me. Nope.

Maybe this obsession will become suddenly displaced by something else. Like the midterm elections? Um, probably not.

I think this one is going to be a bit more expensive than a trip to Graceland. I'd better start saving.

You can be sure you'll be hearing more from me on this.

xo

K