Brand Worship & Tory Burch

I just read this great article in the NY Times about Tory Burch -- the brand and the woman -- and am left feeling a bit conflicted.

As a marketing/communications professional/"nerd" (for lack of a better term), I am especially susceptible to brand messaging, and really do try to support companies whose philosophies, partnerships, messaging I believe to be in line with my own lifestyle, interests, and beliefs.

Take Red Bull, for instance. I am not necessarily a fan of their products - super sugary drinks have never really been my thing (well, except for my Mountain Dew obsession in college). But, I will support the brand in any way I can because I LOVE what they do. Formula 1 team? Check. Sponsorships for some of the best action sports athletes in the world? Check! Awesome support of action sports/motorsports while rebranding and exposing them to the general public? Check, check, check. They can't do much wrong in my eyes, and I think other supporters of the brand feel the same.

Back to Tory Burch:
I have never really been a fan of fashion/retail brands that paste their logo prominently or on every inch of their products. Coach in the early 2000s was absolutely atrocious. Even Chanel can be a bit liberal with the display of their interlocked Cs, and they are a legit luxury brand. This is why I've always been a bit put off by Tory Burch (the brand), and the people who purchase their logo-laden shoes and purses.

Once, when I was in the elevator at the office when I was working in DC, one of my colleagues looked down at the other's feet and exclaimed: "Oh my god. I LOVE your shoes." Being the nosy person I am, I looked down to see these fantastic shoes. Now, this is not a joke or even embellished in any way: they were regular black FLIP-FLOPS with a small, golden Tory Burch logo on the strap. That's it - black flip-flops. I, personally, did not see what was so OMG about them but didn't find them offensive or distasteful, either. They were just... flip-flops.

That moment is precisely when I decided I would never purchase any Tory Burch products, no matter how beautiful a purse, or how silky a caftan might be. I could not be associated with the vapid and airheaded brand-worshipping that I had witnessed. What was so special about that logo on those basic, bland, vanilla flip-flops?

The aforementioned flip-flops.

Having now read about Tory Burch (the woman) and her business drive, I have been somewhat converted. You can tell a lot about a person by how he/she projects him/herself to the world, and how those who are close to them describe their personality. Some of these quotes from the NY Times article stuck out to me in particular. On her love life:

“She is so much her own person without apology. She finds the same thing in other people.”

Many of the other personal quotes say very much the same things. 

“She has the ability to be very rational.... It has allowed her not to get trapped by herself, by her own emotions and shortcomings.”

I think that stands as a testament to her, as a woman, an entrepreneur, and a brand; and I try to live in such a way that people would say the same things about myself. Knowing that she is an intelligent woman, who wants to support the intelligence and drive of other female entrepreneurs and businesswomen, has made me want to go out and buy those beautiful Tory Burch riding boots and purse I've been looking at in secret. But I'll never buy those damn flip-flops. 

Oops...

...we moved to Massachusetts!

We followed our hearts, brains, and dreams to New England - and the decision could not have been any better. Northern Virginia was a pretty toxic place for us (traffic, schedules, jobs... to name a few reasons) and we decided to get the hell out of there. Life is far too short to be unhappy - especially in your 20s - so we bit the bullet and made the change. I won't go into the many details, but we're now living on the north shore of Massachusetts in a beautiful apartment in a wonderful town. My new job is challenging but fulfilling, and M has officially started his new venture. Things are good.

knock on wood

Here are some snapshots from our two short/long months here:

The move. Somehow we fit everything we own in that truck and the Xterra.

A phoenix in the atrium/stairwell of the Newburyport Firehouse Center for the Arts

Salisbury, as seen from downtown Newburyport

Some of the best parts about the new location are that it's so close to the beach...

...and my hometown of NYC is less than 4 hours away. We took a trip down for the NY Auto Show press days. Pictured here is my future ride. I'm a Porsche fangirl and proud of it.

Another perk is the beautiful view from my office, allowing me to take pics like this. The fog was rolling in over the Merrimac River on a weirdly-warm/humid/rainy/sunny/foggy day.

I am hoping that this change will also inspire a change in my blogging. I figure that if I'm happier with my life, I'll be more keen on sharing thoughts and things that actually inspire happiness. 

Cartier Never Fails

Cartier's creative team (or whatever agency they employ) has done it again. I love this "Winter Tale" holiday ad. I'm a huge fan of snow, Christmas, sparkly things, and cats, so this obviously brings a huge smile to my face.



It doesn't hurt that the music is bringing the Edward Scissorhands magic, either.


Below is my favorite film of theirs, "L'Odyssee de Cartier":


The music, the history, everything is beautiful. It speaks for itself, however, so I'll just plead that you watch it.

A la final!

Today was a great day.

Jubilee love

I must admit to something...


I have Anglophilia.

Yes,
I am obsessed with all things English.

This is in addition to my obsession with royal families (from anywhere).

Combine the two, and you have a pretty unhealthy obsession fascination.

This year is Queen Elizabeth's Diamond Jubilee, celebrating her 60th year as Monarch. The publicity of the Jubilee has been feeding my rabid hunger for beautiful photographs, memorabilia, and news about the English royal family.

Just look at this woman:

She is the definition of boss.

And her daughter?

Boss lady number 2 right here.

What other woman could look as fabulous AND badass at the same time? I mean... she has (not one, but two!!) pimp canes, and military medals on her shirt. I just wish she was wearing some stilettos along with that outfit.

I know I'm not the only one who feels this way. I also know I'm not the only who would buy a set of these (and all its matching china):

Please divulge your secret or not-so-secret region/country/royal love!

Jersey Rider

The Jersey Shore isn't all about "gorilla juiceheads" and Affliction tees. Here's Shayne Pospisil having some fun on the boardwalk this winter:



Shayne Pospisil. Seaside Moments. on Vimeo.

Thank you, Presidents

Presidents Day is awesome. Getting a day off after a few extremely busy weeks at work is feeling pretty excellent right now. 

We took an impromptu trip to NYC this past weekend, just because. I am now sitting on my couch having finished an entire season of Skins UK, listening to trance music, and drinking tea. My English ancestors would be proud. Maybe.

Some images from the past few days:

NYC morning

I-66 sunset

Parking meter FAIL

I'll get back to neglecting this blog now. One day - ONE DAY - I'll be a proper blogger. Promise.

Big Bang

Let's talk about this:



Jess Kimura is a boss.




...That is all.

foiled plans

A funny thing happened on the way to the mountain.

We packed our things at 5:00am on Saturday morning to head up to Vermont, to take advantage of our three day weekend. The drive was perfect; we didn't hit traffic once! Not even in Jersey. In fact, I'd venture to say Jersey drivers are some of the best on the East Coast.

They git 'er done.

So, the reason we headed north was because we heard there was supposed to be a storm covering the Northeast, from Buffalo to Maine. I was pretty stoked on this, so you can understand my concern and sadness at seeing NO snow on the ground when we got as far north as Albany. It was damn cold-- but  there was no snow to be seen. We continued our trek east into Vermont... still nothing. WTF was up?

On we went, and encountered snow on the ground just north of Manchester. FINALLY. We still had no idea about this storm that forecasters had told us about....

Eventually, we reached Killington and I was too elated with familiar sights and sounds to really pay attention to the lack of snow there was in town, especially for mid-January. The early season October snowfall had really tricked us into thinking there'd be a fun winter ahead... but, nontheless, I was excited to ride a familiar mountain and see the improvements they had made after the devastation of Hurricane Irene.

I'll spare you the details of the afternoon/evening, and get to the juicy stuff:

We woke up on Saturday, excited to head up the mountain, hopped in the diesel-fueled SUV, and turned the corner, only to realize the car would not speed up... but then it was too late. It sputtered and died. We attempted to revive it but it was too cold for the car to function. The diesel had gelled up due to the below freezing (I mean, -9 degrees? really?) temperatures.{Alert: Do NOT let this deter you from ever buying a diesel car-- they are awesome and great on gas. We were just dumb and hadn't thought about filling it up a little more before it sat in the cold temps.} The rest of the day was spent trying to get the car to start properly, followed by a viewing of the new Mark Wahlberg movie Contraband at Rutland's fine Flagship Cinemas and a classy dinner of Junior Bacon Cheeseburgers from Wendy's. Judge me, I dare you.

In the end, we never got to ride in Vermont. We limped back home to DC (literally, limped-- the car was in "limp mode") sad about not getting any time on the mountain, but happy to have been able to get back up to VT and see a dear friend.

We did, however, get to go to one of my favorite spots in Central Vermont:
                          



Where I had this:

M had this:

So it wasn't a total wash. 

Resolutions at the revolution

Another year has come and gone for me in "the real world" and, I have to say, it's really been quite grand. I didn't have any resolutions last year (I don't think...) but this year I have a few:

1. Get fit

I am pretty effing skinny, but I am probably one of the most unhealthy people I know. This must change. I will begin working out (when the sun starts coming out earlier-- let's not get too carried away here) with my goal being that I will be able to climb a flight of stairs without huffing and puffing once I reach the top. This is a pretty attainable goal. I would also like to look rockin' in a bikini, and not like a malnourished child.

2. Do WORK

Let's be real: I do work every year... this isn't about the literal meaning of the phrase. I would like to start working more towards other goals in my life. I haven't quite yet figured out what the steps are to help me achieve these goals, but this is what this resolution is about! I'd like to realize what these steps are and achieve most of them; I won't limit myself to a number.

3. Cook more

I am a terrible cook but, thankfully, I am really awesome at following directions, so I am going to amass a collection of recipes and use them. This is part of my plan to save money this year. This also seems achievable.

I haven't thought of any more, however I think resolution numero dos is really going to kick my butt. And I'm looking forward to it!

Merry Christmas

Wishes for a very happy Christmas to you all! 

Riding with KP

Kevin Pearce rode yesterday at Breckenridge, for the first time since his Traumatic Brain Injury almost two years ago.

There are few recoveries that are as remarkable as KP's. He has overcome physical and mental barriers to return to the sport he loves-- not to compete, but to ride for the love of riding. His story teaches us just how lucky we are to enjoy one of the best sensations on our Earth, and how much the simple joy of carving down a mountain can mean.

Here is a video of his first runs with friends, along with commentary from KP himself:



He looks better than most people on the hill, even now!

falling in love (all over again) with music

Last Thursday night, I booked it out of the office and risked life and limb by taking the red line to Maryland to catch a ride up to Baltimore to see one of my favorite bands. Dedication: I has it.

I received two tickets from the man on my birthday to see The Airborne Toxic Event at the Rams Head Live in Baltimore, and it was totally unexpected. I love "experience" gifts -- memories last longer than material things. Anywho, we headed up to Baltimore in insane DC rush hour traffic, ready for a good time. 

We got Baltimore, paid an obscene amount of money for parking, made a pit stop at Panera, raced to the venue and took in the scene. It was a massive space, with about three tiers overlooking the stage and a "pit" floor right in front of the stage. We sidled our way to front (as you do) and took our spots for the evening. There were a bunch of teenagers with Xs on their hands, moms and mom-aged women, and a few twenty-somethings. It was a strange mix, to say the least.

First up was The Drowning Men from Oceanside, CA. I looked at their gruff appearance (only the lead singer was without any facial hair) and to be honest, I didn't expect much. I was pleasantly surprised, however, when I heard them play and realized they were actually pretty awesome! I picked out a couple influences, but what stuck out was the early 20th century Southern feel (think, the movie "O' Brother Where Art Thou"). They were super original and I was happy to have learned about this band. They are also really nice guys; I got a high-five from Gabe (keyboards & vocals) on the floor later on in the night!

Next came the other featured band, Mona, from Nashville. I had never heard of them before, but to be touring with T.A.T.E., you have to be good.
This band BLEW MY MIND. 

Never before have I been so excited by music, let alone every single song a band has played. Nick, the lead guitarist/vocalist, made me feel like I was seeing a legend in the making. His voice was strong and spot-on, and his tone was just perfection. The band meshed seamlessly and played so well together. I am almost at a loss for words when it comes to describing this band -- I dorkily screamed and smiled and said "THEY ARE SO GOOD" over and over when they were playing.

Next up was the band we were there to see: The Airborne Toxic Event.

I had seen them live at a free concert in Boston a few years ago (The Bravery was also there), and knew I had to see them again. Mikel (vocalist, guitarist) engaged the audience like a good book, while simultaneously sounding exactly like he does on their records. At one point, he climbed up onto some stage equipment that most definitely was not supposed to be climbed on. Mikel got stuck and had to climb off on the second floor/tier. It was amusing, but also very cool. He walked back to the stage from the back of the audience and climbed right on up. I wish I could be a rock star.

They also had to play their most popular song, "Sometime Around Midnight," which came out during my senior year of college and make me super nostalgic.

So, basically, I fell in love with a new band that night. I fell in love with live shows. I also fell in love with music (again). Somehow, along my path from high school to adulthood, I lost my passion for real music. Sure, I listen to music on my iPod and jam along to whatever comes on the radio, but there is something uniquely special about the music-derived euphoria a good live show and album can create.

It as also helpful to have this good looking guy next to me:

New Year's Resolution (made in November... naturally): go to more live shows and discover new acts.

This gives me the happys

OH HAY

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY

The Art of Awesome

Last weekend, I was lucky enough to be able to head home to NYC (unfortunately, for a doctor's appointment) for the first time since moving down to DC. I got to hang out with my best friend, which was seriously needed. I wanted to head up a couple weeks earlier to attend the premiere of The Art of Flight and all the pre-premiere marketing events but sadly, work got in the way. Luckily, #TAOF (what all us really cool [not really] social media nerds call it) was released on iTunes and I quickly scrambled ten dollars to download that ish. I could have my own premiere party... by myself. Suck on that, people. (I'm only a little bitter, I promise.)
I saved the movie for my bus trip up to NYC, since I'd have the time to give it my undivided attention and possibly be able to watch it twice. I may have sneaked a couple 5-minute peeks here and there, but I was mainly unspoiled.

I am happy that I did because this movie was freaking unbelievable.
It definitely appeals to the snowboard film purists, if only because of the sheer, raw amazingness of the terrain Travis Rice and friends were able to ride. It also appeals to the regular film-goer/person who likes cool things because it wasn't just sick shots of people riding; #TAOF (there I go again) was definitely a "film" in the cinematic sense of the word... there was a progressing story line and, one might even say, a climax. I have since watched it a couple more times and, each time, I am most impressed by the filming/editing/production. It is unbelievable to think of what this crew went through to complete this movie. Obviously, Travis Rice and all of the other riders in the film are what make it what it is, but it would have been an entirely different kid of movie without the teams behind its creation: Brain Farm Digital Cinema (one of the coolest companies ever) and Red Bull Media House. I know there were more people involved, but these are the only two filming and production-involved whose websites I could find. If you know of more, I'd definitely give them a shout-out, too.
There is something so singularly special about ski and snowboard films that is incomparable to anything else out there. It's almost like a glorification of man's power to control nature, but simultaneously showing the same power that nature and the terrain have over that man. Nothing can even come close.



While #TAOF is an amazing snowboarding movie, it definitely is in its own category. Many may like that it is different from others, and I'm sure many hate that as well... but it is the first that I have seen capture non-snowboard audiences, which is definitely a step in some kind of direction. I, personally, loved it for what it was but will continue to absolutely love the "traditionalist" snowboard films as well.

So, my point is: see it for yourself. I won't say that you'll love it -- because, strangely, some people just don't like this sort of thing-- but it'll definitely impress you.

(photos courtesy of www.theartofflight.com)

Lazy Saturday... and Sunday

Mike is away for work this weekend and I am taking full advantage of having control of the remote for these two days. While we usually agree on our primetime viewing (Suits, White Collar, Parks & Rec, The Office, etc.,) the lure of my dirty little secret, trashy reality television, is just too strong to resist.
I do not have much else to write (well... I have lots to write, but not enough time in which to do it), and will return after my weekend of television viewing freedom ends.

Update:
Actually, I'll be watching the Yankee game this afternoon and cheering them on all by lonesome. Hoping this game doesn't get rained out/postponed either. I'm looking forward to a good butt-kicking.

My 9/11 Story

It was my first week of high school, at Fiorello H. LaGuardia High School of Music, Art and the Performing Arts, on the Upper West Side. I was starting to make new friends, which made me feel a little more comfortable in this entirely new situation; everyone was talented, everyone was special, everyone was truly unique. I was sitting with some of my new friends at my strangely early lunch period (10:45am) when one of my new barely-friends came running in and told us that someone had blown up the World Trade Center. She said they were gone. “Impossible,” I thought, I had just been there the previous afternoon, meeting my mom after school. 

This news then brought a rush of emotions. I could feel the blood rushing to my face, the confusion building. I gathered my things and left the lunch room and somehow in my fog of confusion, I heard that there was an emergency room set up on one of the other floors for all of us whose parents were in the WTC area that morning. In 2001, cell phones still were not very popularly used, and my mom and I shared one very strange looking phone with a flip-out bottom, which I happened to have that day. I called her office, her friends’ offices, my aunts, and anyone else I could think of. For some reason, my phone was one of the only ones working in that emergency response room. I made friends with another freshman, who had just moved to NYC from Madrid to study ballet, and whose brother worked in the South Tower. I let her use my phone to call whoever she wanted. I saw one of my classmates from my vocal music classes sitting with her dad, both of them crying. All the while, I had not heard from my mom and I still did not know exactly what had happened downtown. 

We were made to go to our homerooms at some point to listen to the principal make an announcement that I’m sure he never imagined making during his career. He retired the next year. They told us that we could not leave to go home without a parent coming to pick us up— well, my single mother was unaccounted for, and I was not about to sleep over at my new school that I did not like very much. I called my mom’s friend from work who was now working at a new law firm uptown; miraculously, I got a hold of her and she agreed to come pick me up. I don’t really remember much of the rest of the day at school, but I imagine it was spent calling anyone and everyone I possibly could. I got calls from friends in Spain making sure we were okay— I told them I was fine but still had not heard from my mom. 

Eventually, around 3pm, my mom’s friend got to LaGuardia to pick me up and we started walking out of the building, not really knowing what to do. I saw a woman walking up the steps of the school and realized she was my mom. I ran over and hugged her; I had never realized until that moment how much I loved my mom. We shared stories of what had happened to us and she told us about the hell she had gone through that morning. She had seen things that no civilian should ever see. She saw an airplane wheel on the corner of her block, stood and watched the towers burning above her, hid from the dust clouds, and had walked all the way from the Financial District up to my school on the UWS. 

We all went to dinner at a Japanese restaurant a couple of blocks away and watched the news, trying to figure out how we would get home to Queens. We ended up walking down 57th Street and got on a bus (some buses were running, and all were free) as far East as we could go. We then found that the only way to Queens was to walk across the Queensboro Bridge. You never fully realize how long a bridge is until you’ve walked across it. We stood in the center of it for a few minutes, just looking at the cloud of ash and dust that had formed over where the beautiful World Trade Center once stood. It didn’t sink in, what had happened that day. We continued our walk home, in disbelief and shock, confused and scared about what the future would bring, but happy that we had our family.

Happy Fourth of July!

This BAMF is going for a night ride to watch the fireworks. 

ANGER MANAGEMENT

Last night, I fell asleep watching the movie "Anger Management" with the creepily awesome Jack Nicholson and hit-or-miss funny Adam Sandler. I probably should have stayed awake for the duration of the movie, as I needed some anger management skills this morning dealing with the dreaded Department of Motor Vehicles.

Since moving, I have had to take care of various address change things, and today was the day to go to the DMV to obtain a Virginia driver's license. "This should be easy," I thought, especially considering the fact that I already had a New York State driver's license and additional documentation.


I WAS SO WRONG.


I have never been so wrong in my life, in fact.


I waltzed into the mall (yes, the DMV is in a mall - dangerous) two hours early to ensure a good spot in the line. I stood in that line, throughout the entire waiting period. I had my papers ready. I was all set to go, smiling at the employees as they went by... I was in an excellent mood. Once the doors opened, I strode up to the front desk, showed the man my papers and he then proceeded to ask me where my "legal presence" papers were. ...Excuse me? I had my social security card in front of your face, sir, and my NYS license, for which I obviously had documentation to receive. I was livid. I told him I had a copy of my birth certificate and an expired passport. Not good enough, he said. I need the original birth certificate, he said.

Who am I, the President?

This is what the man at the DMV looked like. 

I gave him a dose of my New York City attitude to assure him of my good standing as a long-time citizen of the city of New York, and also to break up the monotony of the complacent Virginia citizens that rotate at that desk day-in and day-out. I waltzed stormed out of that office and I am now sitting here in the middle of the mall, waiting for my ride. Because I cannot get a Virginia driver's license until I travel back to New York to gather more proof of my "presence" (is this some sort of existential question?) and can once again get a ride from my boyfriend, who happens to be going on a business trip next week. Awesome.

This is kind of what I looked like.

I guess blogging is my anger management.


images via, via, via