Zombies & Penguins

Longtime Cabinet readers may remember a post way back in 2009 about artist Greg Stones, and his paintings of penguins and zombies and monsters and such. I love them.

Well, he now has two books, both available on his site and (bonus!) has YouTube clips previewing them.

The first is Goodbye, Penguin, which is a Ten Little Indians style story in which a group of fifteen penguins go for a walk, and about their various (mostly tragic) fates. I have watched this an embarrassing number of times. The one who is flattened by a snow man and the one who was abducted (which you can see at above) are my favorites. Watch it below:



His second book, is the aptly titled Zombies Hate Stuff, which is all about stuff zombies hate. Some of these things include hippies, cavemen, war reenactors and sharing.



Both of his books (and the rest of his art and prints) can be purchased here. Apropos of nothing in particular, I would like to point out that my birthday is one scant month away. In case you happened to be wondering.

Happy 50th Birthday, Kim & Kelly Deal! (AAAGH!)

On June 10th, Kim and Kelly Deal of The Breeders turned 50. You heard, correctly: fifty. I suppose I have to get used to it, I mean, people who I never thought of as being all that much older than me turning ::gulp:: fifty.

Kelly Deal was basist of The Pixies, and I vividly remember seeing them years and years ago in (I think) Maxwells in Hoboken. And then a few years later saw them open up for U2 at The Garden and it seemed as if me and the friend I was with were the only ones who had any idea who they were back in the dawn of the 90s, and we stood by a railing and screamed "KIM DEAL!!" drunkenly at the stage. Ah, youth.

Kim went on to form The Breeders with Tanya Donnelly. For the band's second record, she brought in her identical twin, Kelly. Their birthday cake is hilarious. See at left the two fetuses in utero rendered in frosting.

Yet ANOTHER Fabulous Redhead turns 70: Ann-Margret Edition

I've always had a major soft spot for Ann-Margret and think she's been both under-rated and under-utilized. She's so lovely (and still is! Was I the only one who caught the Law & Order in which she played a nutty stalker?).

Born in Sweden in 1941 (like every other fabulous redhead on Earth) and moved to the US when she was six. She catapulted to stardom in 1963 with her starring role in Bye-Bye Birdy. There was a great moment in the first season of Mad Men when they screened her opening number from the film and all the men found it sexy as hell, but Peggy found it to be embarrassing to watch. She has a point. Ann-Margret is trying so hard, it seems a bit - desperate. She was never a particularly relaxed performer.

I adore her in Viva Las Vegas in which she stars opposite Elvis, and for once (for both of them) it's an even match. They were simply the two sexiest people on the face of the Earth at that exact moment in time and they subsequently had a year long affair - about which she doesn't really speak. Subsequently, she married to actor/manager Roger Smith, a relationship that's lasted about 45 years. She is also one of the few performers who has the honor of being a Flintstone character!

But it's that sense of discomfort I wanted to write about a bit. I think she's a little hard to watch sometimes because she appears so eager to please. So many beautiful women on screen can just sit there and let the world bask in their loveliness. Not Ann-Margret. She always looks like she's working - I mean, look at the picture above. I find her scenes with Jack Nicholson in Carnal Knowledge to be almost unwatchable; he's so cruel to her. You can feel the desperation leaching out of her pores. I really hate that film, and it's one of those situations where my loathing is so intense I'm not sure if I trust it.

Ann-Margret has made a series of awful films in the last twenty years, not that actresses in her age range have a great deal of choice if they wish to keep working. She's an aging sex kitten, and that's exactly what she portrayed in her recent L&O turn. She was creepy and weird and histrionic and pretty riveting.

All hail this most vivacious of screen presences on this momentous birthday!

For other entries in my Fabulous Redheads Turning 70 coverage go here and here.

Happy 122nd Birthday, Charlie!

For a delightful post chock full of actual information, go here!

All The Coolest Redheads Are Turning 70

Seventy years ago on the British Isles there must have been something startling in the water, as two of the most interesting (and red-headed) women in fashion were born. In addition to the previously mentioned Grace Coddington, Vivienne Westwood turned 70 last week as well.

For good or ill, Ms. Westwood holds primary responsibility for what punk rock looked like in London, and continues to be worn in one form or another by disaffected (and fashionable) young people the world over. She is one of the most influential designers of the past 50 years. Without her, there couldn't have been an Alexander McQueen.

Dame Vivienne Westwood, like that other ravishing 70 year old fashion icon,Grace Coddington, emerged from a working class background. She spent only one semester at Harrow Art School because "I didn't know how a working-class girl like me could possibly make a living in the art world". She instead got a job in a factory and took a teacher training course (which, amazingly enough, is something Johnny Rotten would later do as well) becoming a primary school teacher, whilst designing and making jewlery that she sold at markets and on the Portobello Road. She met the always slippery Malcolm Maclaren in 1965, leaving her then husband for him. She continued to teach until they opened their shop, Let It Rock, in 1971 on the King's Road and fashion, music and social history would be absolutely changed forever.

I think Maclaren and Westwood's store is likely the most influential shop in history. In 1975 it was renamed "Sex" and became the center of punk (again, for good or ill). Westwood still owns it and sells her World's End clothing line from its historic environs. The question of who invented the punk look is always up for debate. Like all street styles, its influences and creators are manifold - but punk was small and contained in the early days, so its genesis isn't as difficult to track. Rotten and Maclaren had a lot of influence, and some of it came out of wearing one's poverty on one's sleeve. I've heard Rotten sneering at the idea of punks wearing head to toe leather (as popularized by Sid Vicious) as only rich people could afford such a look so it wasn't punk by definition. Westwood, the artist in the bunch, obviously has a lot to do with shaping the look. In later years, she has been extremely blasé about it, emphasizing that it was fashion.

Her first runway show was in 1981 and was inspired by pirates, launching what I vividly remember being the New Romantics, with Adam Ant and the early Duran Duran in their puffy shirts and Buccaneer jackets. She said she remembered seeing, when she was a small child, a woman dressed in Dior's New Look, and it left a huge impression on her. There's an extravagance in Dior that is definitely visible in Westwood's work, but it's never plays straight as Galliano often did with the same influence. It's always tweaked. Her garments are so deeply infused with fashion history, but her work, though decadent, never takes itself particularly seriously. Everything is always a little off center, as if this working class girl, now Dame of the British Empire, is still thumbing her nose at the upper classes. Most designers just make pretty dresses, but Westwood manages parody in hers.

Grace Coddington Turns 70

Happy birthday to the lovely Grace Coddington who turns 70 today!

In this age of disloyalty and rootlessness, it's interesting to see that Coddington has worked in one way or another for the great Kraken Vogue for nearly 50 years. She grew up in a remote part of Wales, fascinated by issues of the magazine that she managed to acquire, and then at 17 won teen modeling competition and moved to London. How exciting it must have been! She wound up on the cover of British Vogue in 1960 (see left). In 1967 her modeling career was cut short after her face received substantial injuries in a car accident. The following year she was hired as a junior editor.

Aside from a brief tenure at Calvin Klein in the '80s, she has remained a Vogue employee, working as creative director of US Vogue since '88. Most fascinatingly, has worked beside, with and against her friend and bête noire Anna Wintour for all that time, as Wintour began with the company the same time she did. Their riveting work relationship (Coddington as Style Director, Wintour as Editor in Chief) was wonderfully documented by former West Egg denizin R.J. Cutler.

In some ways Coddington is the anti-Wintour. She goes about her work life in shapeless and practical black, and functional flats, her mane of red hair flying everywhere. She's all about the art and the best things that appear in the magazine have her fingerprints all over them. She's something of a genius in terms of creating beautiful and evocative imagery, and is all about art while Wintour must look out for the money.

Grace Coddington is nothing like the popular idea of a fashion powerhouse. She's smart and intuitive and dithery. May she create lovely, lovely pictures for many years to come!

Happy 30th Birthday, Buffy!

As well as having to sing Happy Birthday to one one of my all time favorite literary greats, we must also sing, or raise glass, or point a crossbow at Buffy Summers, who today, in imaginary fiction land, turns 30. Wow, right?

As anyone who watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer knows, no one in the history of all media: print, comics, film whatever, had more traumatic birthdays than poor Buffy. As she said herself, "... you could smash all my toes with a hammer and it would still be the bestest Buffy birthday bash in a good long while."

Season One was birthday-free as it was a mid-season replacement. In Season Two, Buffy lost her virginity on her 17th birthday, to her (vampire) boyfriend, who she loved. Who then proceeded to lose his human soul, revert to his evil ways, and kill lots of people. As Buffy saw it: All because she had sex with him. Friends died. Of course, the genius of writer Joss Whedon is such that Buffy blamed herself, but the show did not. But, seriously. Worst. Birthday. Ever. In Season Three, her father continued his streak of lousy parenting by canceling his trip to spend time with her and, oh, she was subjected to a wretched 18th birthday Slayer test where her powers were taken away, her mother wound up kidnapped, and Giles, her watcher, fired. More horrible family drama in Seasons Five and Six, commingled with mystical problems that made her more typical young adult fuck up-ery even worse. Poor Buffy.

Creator Joss Whedon's instincts are pretty solidly on the money much of the time. Making Buffy's birthday a big deal on the show (rather than, Christmas, or some other holiday) is so smart. For one thing, it brings everything back to his protagonist. But mostly, because of the particular circumstances Buffy lives with. As she says often and is continually reminded, she is one of a long line of mystical warriors who die very, very young. As Spike once tells her, she has to be lucky every day, a monster just has to be lucky once. So birthdays carry a particular significance for her, narratively, that they would not for another character. One year older matters more as the odds of her not getting older are spectacularly high.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a unique phenomenon. A young girl's coming of age tale (rare enough itself), combined with a hero's journey - made specifically female in way no one else has quite done. So Happy 30th Birthday, Buffy, wherever in the aether you might be!

8 Arms To Hold You

You know, I have a stack of Netflix movies just staring at me from the top of the TV making me feel guilty. Maybe I'll watch one this morning. Or, like, not. I think I want more coffee.



Last night I saw a 1933 musical at Film Forum called Moonlight and Pretzels that was directed (sort of shockingly incompetently)by legendary cinematographer Karl Freund. B musicals are always a good time.



Oh, look. I thought it was going to rain today, but it looks really nice out. I'll probably sit around the park drawing things and reading. I'm about 50 pages into Martha Peake by Patrick McGrath. I'm loving it so far. I've read pretty much all his other books - he does modern gothic pretty much better than anyone. It's so funny as he had the most gothic upbringing of any modern writer. He was raised on the grounds of Broadmoor (the hospital in England for the criminally insane)where his father was a doctor.



Happy birthday to me!