After jumping through a big hoop today, I felt like I deserved some new spring tights--so I swung by a tights place and got some. Also, I was so overheated in the woolen ones I had put on that morning that I stopped into a cafe to change. Is that weird? Don't answer that. But don't be jealous (even though I look like I have to make a mad dash to the restroom). GITP readers can obtain these very tights at the Swedish-orginating chain, which is not IKEA. I also don't want people to think I'm going to be un-ascetically rewarding myself throughout March.
Because there's nothing more attractive than asceticism, right??
Speaking of asceticism, we had no food in the house so we ended up at the friendly, yet mediocre diner on the corner. On the way we passed this fabulous Nick Hornby novel languishing on top of a dumpster cage. It looked so forlorn I had to photograph it. Someone please rescue it and give it a read!
Then in the diner, I had a Woody Allen in Annie Hall moment when the bearded hipsters at the adjacent table behind me yammered on about "experimental film," so I naughtily scribbled what they said on an envelope from my mother:
"I want to have actors in my films who no one knows."
"I want to break down the fourth wall."
"I found it cheaply poetic."
"Brad Pitt. Brad Pitt. Every time he's in a movie, like I can't stop seeing Brad Pitt! It's like he has a tag on his shirt."
"The niche for experimental cinema exists right now."
"The dream of the '60s is alive in Greenpoint."
"When I see ads that have been vandalized, I love it."
John Cassavetes was mentioned several times, of course. It was one of the most delightful eavesdropping experiences I've ever had.
In honor of the '60s, my paisley tights, Nick Hornby's rock music novel, and Women's History Month I give you this artist this evening (er, from 1970), and she has really good leg wear to boot!:
that list of eavesdropped comments is precious. made me lol. and the paisley tights look fantastic on you.
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