Monday, February 27, 2012
Nero was vaguely nonplussed by the Oscar fanfare last night. Where oh where has the glamour of yore gone to die? And yet, the side of me that gravitates towards the true nero, the goth, the decadent and richly macabre -- the cinema veritas that is all things (film) noir, was bewitched by this dark creation from the house of Alexander McQueen. In keeping with the tone of Jessica Chastain's devilishly drop-dead frock, whip out your riding crops folks, cuz the woman standing directly behind her needs to be Spanxed.
- Of the Uncanny Valley and Borrowing from Real Life...
- Of Film Noir and a Goth Dress Fest
- Of Time Capsule Capturing and iPhoning Home
- Of Snakes on the Brain and Athens Burning
- Of Tinto Azul and Blueing Gray
- Of Mile-High Clubbing and Down-Dressing to Impress...
- Of Throwing Down Anchor and Sinking Hook
- Of Amores Perros, Pirates and La Playa
- Of Philippe-ing Out in Foodie Ville
- Of a Spanish Retreat and a Pinch of Chic
- Of Shear Terror in the Lone Star State
- Of Word Worlds and Generation Text
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