bring a sweater

inked or plastisol billboards

Unfortunately, with the golden autumn days dwindling in Germany, it is no longer t-shirt weather, but I know that elsewhere, in areas less prone to seasonal superlatives, there is still ample chance to don one’s favourite funny, subtle and artistic wearable statements. Some of my favourite creative factories are Last Exit to Nowhere with corporate logos that only exist in cinema classics and Threadless, whose collection of artists produce consistently fun designs that are voted into print by customers.

Those and many other produce designs that are instantly recognizable, though with each, one would probably be the only kid on the block sporting it.

eight-bit or the red-coats are coming

The military, especially the US army, has an expensive fashion-sense. I understand the role is of fatigues and battle-rattle to help keep soldiers safe and inconspicuous but a lot of changes seemed to be pushed through all at once, the repeal of DADT besides. The reviled standard issue black berets went away and combat boots changed, Velcro badges, and now the introduction of the latest camoufleur pattern to be field-tested downrange in Afghanistan. Surely, it is pricey for the government to award all these apparel contracts, and it’s at a cost to the individual solider too, who though issued uniforms end up paying for it on store credit (not to mention the dry-cleaning bills) like a carefree troop of novice flight-attendants. Here, a deploying unit is in formation with the rear-detachment, who will stay behind. The juxtaposition is interesting, and I do like the new retro-camouflage a lot better than the pixilated old one. One got used to it and I suppose the uniforms become invisible though no one really blends in. The new so-called multi-cam has a classic look, single and in the right sun, the colours almost look like a trained, super-imposition of an old Kodachrome photograph, instead of some cheap and over-done CGI special-effect.

cornucopia

What sort of daily sentiments, gems of wisdom, especially shop-talk or the poetic haikus of sociopathic rage that the boss of my boss has scribbled on all too ephemeral note pads, would you like to turn into keepsakes? Crochet it on a pillow? Steotch, the New England needle-artists, has produced a vast selection of such samplers, adding a touch of kitsch and permanency to tag-lines and memes, internet doctrines and covenants not necessarily captured in tee-shirt form, from Transportation Security Administration awkwardness to LOLCats (give us this day our daily cheezburger) to Peanut Butter Jelly Time to O RLY owl to Double Rainbow.  A happy and humourous Thanksgiving to everyone... Om Nom Nom.

quagmire

To confound any legal attempts to block publication, Wikileaks triangulated its trove of a press-release with Der Spiegel and the New York Times, which has framed the break in the dyke quite nicely.   Some criticize the media for trumping up the nature of the documents, saying that there are no real surprises, no shock-and-awe, which I think is a strange critique, coming from the venerable third estate: it is journalism's job to limn a situation, an environment and interpret and reveal through its objective lens.  Comparison to the Pentagon Papers are apt, but these are unprocessed bits of evidence, and it is the newspapers which tie together a proper daisy-chain accounting.  Nonetheless, if there had been a transparent horde of documentation from the beginning, the US and NATO would not have engaged in the war in the manner in which it did.  It is disheartening to have confirmation on the cheapness of Afghan lives, duplicity of the US Pakistani partners and the general glossing-over of way the war is being prosecuted.  Rather than playing the enemy of mine enemies against one another, like the Americans did to the Soviets in the region, it seems the coalition forces are enacting their own counter-finance.  Perhaps the biggest outrage and surprise ought to be the US focus on plugging the leak and visiting vengence on the free press, rather than addressing the problems exposed.

touʹəl

Since settling in and having long ago abandoned old linens, like with the pillows, to packing-related missions, I have felt uninspired to order new towels. Towels are some of the most genuinely innovative pieces of handiwork in existence. One can use them far beyond the conventional shower--they can be used as a sling or a brace or a tourniquet, to wipe up all sorts of spills and splashes, be worn as a skirt or a superhero cape or swami turban--and can feel better and more luxuriant than few things. I think that I keep threatening to order some to dampen the rush to buy an expensive set from the boutique. New towels should be things one comes across spontaneously or they fall from the heavens fully-formed and in a gift basket. By myself, however, I find myself also very non-committal and reluctant to buy anything but one patchworked item at a time. We do need to hold some in reserve in order to practice some restraint with the laundry, but there is also the matter of the decor of the bathrooms. One could be decidedly nautical but we are veering away from that style. I like Frog Royalty too well to keep with bleached sea shells and sand dollars. The other bathroom is more modern and industrial, which I like as well, except for the decorative tiles which have little metallic silver accents on every three or four tiles. They are not harsh and glaring but it looks like something that would grace the dressing-room of Jem and the Holograms or if Charlie Sheen's interior decorator trophy-wife in Wall Street had designed it.