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September 10, 2010

When someone like Corinne Day leaves us mere humans here on earth I generally spend days, even sometimes weeks, trying to find the right thing to say or write out loud. I don’t want to pollute peoples eyes or ears with the repetition of meaningless, ironic information. I’ve been listening to Philip Glass trying to put my finger on the tiny cloud of sadness I’m trying to breathe.

To have had such an outlook on life, art, fashion and photography only to go down in history, to the majority of those who choose to pay tribute to you, as someone who discovered and essentially created the world’s most successful and well known super model is a pretty deplorable way to be remembered. To have never transcended past this one plain girl whose Polaroid you spotted.

vogue nippon dec 2003 corinne day

Corinne was gritty,  imperfect and often badly lit. Just as the photos she wanted to be known for and never was. The photographer she longed to be outside the fashion world.  She was someone who had creative demons inside of her as opposed to fairies. She saw through the absurdity of the fashion and art worlds…never finding a place that felt like a fit. She wanted to be someone who showed what reality looked like…and the final reality is grim.

I don’t think Corinne hated or ever regretted the person she created. They were far too kindred a spirits to have never crossed paths. But, I hope that where ever she is, there is no mention of this person. She’s heard enough, let her sleep.


a tribute to my dad for never complaining about what I wear…

From letting me walk out the door in the three inch heels at the age of ten in denim booty shorts, to my teen years of slips and the miniest of skirts.  To the present day; he doesn’t  blink an eye when I wear head to toe denim with clogs resembling stilts, or stockings as pants with an over sized woolley, bright red lipstick and my grandmother’s fur hat…

my father circa 1992.

…he worries that i don’t have “proper footwear” and offers to buy me dinner when he knows I just spend a fortune on sweatpants made on a vintage japanese loom out of cotton that only grows at a certain time of the year due to the cycle of the moon.

members only               vintage reeboks                      levi 501’s                        flannel


to my father … the original hipster,

thanks for teaching me to ride my bike…


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