Come Copy Me: Copycat Night at Otto's

A lot of things have kept me in after my nights in the salt mines: morning job interviews, morning angst, general unease, but last night I went out to Otto's Shrunken Head, a mangy yet adorable bar with a back room for rock and roll, situated on the eastern heel of 14th St. (And also the site of my baby shower almost 17 years ago--I had a live dj spinning only songs containing the word "baby." There are a LOT, you know.)

Late night coffee shop

Left work at 9 pm, and made my way up the 1st Avenue bike lane instead of continuing on home. I was starving, so checked out an Avenue B coffee shop--still open at 10 pm (because the back room becomes a bar featuring a fireplace with glowing fake log) and picked up a mozzarella sandwich that the bald but luxuriously bearded barrista offered to drizzle with balsamic. He actually said, "Do you want me to drizzle this with balsamic?" So much energy at 10 pm. I stood out on the sidewalk, eating, making crumbs for rats and vermin. My bike locked up under a streetlight on B, I was heartened I got carded at the door at Otto's, which tonight was featuring bands participating in the bi-weekly eight-year long Copycat cover series. (I've so far only attended the Kinks' installment.)

Otto's has a photo booth.

Tonight was New Wave night--and I'm already getting neurotic by how much text I'm generating here--so I'll make this short. The thing I love about NYC is that I can be a middle-aged woman alone--a mom, even--out late on a week night, and I'm invisible in a good way. I fit in. No one cares. At least I like to think so.

Probably not.

Michael T's band went on first. Michael T might be as old as me: he's an androgynous, flamboyant front man, who does a lot of the Bryan Ferry segments in the performance arty tribute thing he belongs to: Kate Loves Bryan. (See video above!) He also has his own band called the Vanities. Tonight, he and his band covered The Cars, Blondie, Bowie, Ramones, Vapors--and Michael T provided necessary context and metadata.

I stayed an hour, bike down Ave B at eleven. Did not see any rats.

My fellow late night, mid-weekers

I Don't Know What to Wear

Courtney Love looking unusually pulled together at her recent art opening.

 For the past few days my morning/afternoon pages for our Artist's Way experiment have been about clothes.  I've written about skirts, slips, seams, over-stitching, fabric, trimmings, bodices and shapes.  I can't seem to stop, which is ironic, because I don't know what to wear as a middle-aged Girl in a Tight Place.

I seem to be in a profound fashion crisis.  Yes, that's what it is.

So please tell me what you are wearing?

The thing I'm most afraid of right now is dressing too young for my age, which I could do very VERY easily.  But what does that mean?  Skinny jeans?--which is what I'm wearing right now? Tank tops and tee shirts, which my drawers are full of?  Dresses which I still pick up at stores that girls young enough to be my daughter shop at?

When I think of what I might want to look like I think of the following gals:  Courtney Love (who is ten days older than me), Kim Gordon from the now defunct(?) Sonic Youth (who is 11 years older than me), and maybe even Michelle Obama (who is seven months older than me, although she's a little mainstream).  They all look really super great, right?  Right?  (Although, Courtney often appears in public looking disappointingly matronly.)

Of course, they all have access to designers that I don't have access to (although Shelley and I did watch Kim Gordon try on coats once in the lower Broadway H&M).  How do I compete with Mrs. O?

So I'm not sure what to do as a gal on a budget.  What's totally inappropriate for me to wear?

What are you wearing again?

No minis over 35??  But here's Kim Gordon in 2009!

Michelle O in Michael Kors

I especially the flamboyance of these two:  the rainbow ribbing, short seersucker shorts.  

The lime tie.

Copying Lara (As Usual)

Tights seen at McNally Jackson on Friday

What I did this Satuday:

Biked to work

Worked

Biked home

Texted kid at sleepover (Did you make it out to Brooklyn?)

Rest of family still in pajamas

Made them dress for dinner.  Walked to Taqueria.  Taqueria was playing the first Rocky on their monitors--soundless.  I could not tear myself away, especially when Rocky and Adrian make out a little in Rocky's crummy apartment.

Found my copy of Diane Williams' This is About the Body, the Mind, the Soul, the World, Time, and Fate
(excited about this because I'm going to see DW--one of my grad school heroes in my 20s--on Monday)

Cleaned out the top shelf of a book shelf--sorted through zines and Playbills.  Found the Quarterly Wests Lara gave me four years ago from AWP.

Threw away a ton of papers while listening to Emmy Lou Harris on Prairie Home Companion.  Yes, I'm middle aged.