We have The Sun’s eerie attempt at guessing (and giving odds) as to who will design Kate Middleton’s wedding dress. The coverage to this point has been bordering on obsessive (and yet here I am, throwing my two cents into the swirling vortex of dress frenzied nonsense) but the canny Sun coverage really takes the biscuit. Following much the same theme as (what I seem to remember as) Kate Hudson’s character in How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days photoshopping her and her partner’s faces together to create possible babies, the Sun has obviously extended the long arm of the Graphic Design Department in creating these Kate-Dress hybrids. Toyota Prius and eighties Jeff Goldblum, suck it.
Tip for gambling fans: My money’s on Libélula. This is one of those few times in life a retailer can look at their downed website and think “Yes, I’ve made it!” Even if she doesn’t wear a Libélula gown I’ve no doubt this will be the making of this frankly rather sedate brand.
I have joined Twitter. I follow more than I am followed, and as I’m new to the whole Twitter business and still faintly alarmed every time I successfully post something I believe this is something of a faux pas, or at the very least suggests you are not “cool”. Obviously my Twitter coolness is deeply, deeply important to my sense of self, so follow me here for regular updates about sandwiches I’ve eaten, sandwiches I’m thinking about eating, and sandwiches other people are eating on the bus as I wildly guess their exact ingredients in 140 characters or less.
Update: Michael McIntyre is now following me on Twitter. Holy God. Knock me over with a feather. Etc.
Things what I should not have bothered doing this weekend:
I saw Scream 4. It is a film making a point about horror films, within a film making a point about horror films, within a film naking a point about horror films which is based on a previous trilogy of films making a point about horror films. Everyone dies and it’s one big babushka doll of crap. I did let out a few shrieks, amusing my companion no end but I maintain that they were released in horror at the death of cinema before my very eyes. Do not waste eleven euro seeing it. Instead, waste five euro on a Coffey’s Coffee, a new favourite cocktail my bartender brother made me this weekend in Café en Seine. If you like an entire dessert in a glass full of alcohol combined with a shot of espresso this is the drink for you. High as a kite, I was. Ask him either for his take on a Strawberry Daquiri. You can’t miss him, he’s the tallest man behind the bar. I’ve never felt such a rosy glow of familial pride.
I have been listening to:
A lot of 8-bit music. I could never claim to be a music snob but a friend of mine definitely is (apologies, dear) and he’s recently introduced me to the likes of Anamanaguchi and The Flashbulb, who are very worth a listen and inspiring of no small amount of Nintendo related nostalgia. Also, not quite 8-bit, but we went to a Bibio gig there last week, which has me relistening to a lot of Boards of Canada and my new cycling soundtrack is WHY? There’s nothing like being nearly killed on Dublin morning roads to the sounds of some very chill trip-hop.
Via Love Forever
All via Me Against Them (Warning: This site can throw up some gems, but can also be very, very NSFW)
Sachin Teng illustrations
Gemma Ahern’s apartment and beautiful wallpaper via Design Sponge
Austin Power, “Self-Portrait”, Oil on Canvas via Béhance
Ooh, afterthought. My friend linked me to this page: The Rules. Sometimes you see a film, or read a story set in a different era, or one that’s not a million light years from our own, and consider the plausability of the content. This is one of those times I can scarcely believe what the hell I’m reading. If (like I would imagine are most readers of Neil Strauss’s seminal stupid man bible) you are single, it is not because you pay your own half of dates, or answer the phone when you’re called. My personal favourite rule was “Don’t tell your therapist about the rules.” Firstly, the assumption that everyone has a therapist is pretty awful, and secondly, if someone is telling you not to inform the person who aids you in steering logically through life that you are following a set of stringent rules then you should reconsider why that might be.