Autonomous Clothing

Writeup on Invadenola.com

2010-08-19T09:41:00.001-07:00

Check it out!

http://invadenola.com/2010/08/12/interview-project-alicia-zenobia/

Worn Again 2010 New Orleans!

2010-07-26T12:01:00.000-07:00

Worn again went off with a huge bangarang yet again this year! My ripaway gown (yup) was in the top 10 designer category and my beautiful models, Lauren Juarez and Sheeka Netter did a fabulous job with the interactive striptease choreography on the runway. My concept was to have the gorgeous befeathered peacock lady defrocked by the raw, pelt-laden tribal woman...the gown is designed to be torn off in pieces by another person!
All of the pieces in the show were made from cast off clothing (that each designer received in a pillowcase at random a month prior). My mini-collection featured handmade skulls, and "bone" beads, a shaved fur jacket-vest, handmade hairpeices, a loincloth jumpsuit, fabric "feathers" and, of course, the ripaway gown. More pics and (hopefully) video soon!

At the jury (the piece I made for Woo didn't make it into the show (even though the dead monkey hat is the greatest thing ever) but he decided the sport the loincloth leggings to the show anyway.

A tiny pic of the garment underneath the ripaway gown. It's a boned bustier/hotpants cabaret outfit with a fabric "feather" bustle!

Antenna Gallery Show

2010-07-26T11:43:00.001-07:00

A reprise of Worn Again New Orleans past, at the Antenna Gallery in the Bywater

Never bored or boring in the biggest of easies

2010-04-19T14:28:00.001-07:00

tony is bartending. the end is nigh.

bryant's hippie vagina

those are my panties...splendidly adorning my friends at the premier of Treme at the Country Club

birthday shirt! It says "Convert to Islam (so i can eat your pork). see...i still make clothes

easter is that day when jesus and bunnies become zombies

shortly before the beautiful chair sculpture collapsed and nearly killed Cyn.

Coco Robicheaux in the comfy chair...stuff with good food and libations after a hard days work...

tiffany smells what Woo's cookin

poker party..yep

stuff we do, stuff you might not want to try at home

2010-03-15T11:08:00.000-07:00

Yes, New Orleans is COLD in the winter

2010-03-15T10:24:00.000-07:00

We're finally feeling a bit of warm weather and seeing the sun shine as much as we want it to! In the meantime, we've been holing up inside making things, winning the superbowl, marrying people, celebrating holidays, singing songs, dressing up, telling jokes and being all hibernatey.

New Profession Yay! I lower your ears good.

2010-02-10T08:20:00.000-08:00

What have I been DOOOOING?!?!

2010-02-07T13:47:00.001-08:00

A couple months in pictures...i've been busy assimilating!

2009-09-08T08:32:00.000-07:00

Pics from my most recent show, bitchettes!

Show!

2009-08-29T18:02:00.000-07:00

Hey darlings! It's been a long time since I've posted, because a) its august in New Orleans and I've come as close as I ever have to losing my mind and b) I've been working my rear off getting ready for the show at the Blue Nile. It was a major success and everyone, of course, looked amazing. Check out some slides at http://www.neworleans.com/blogs/local-fashion-designers-support-hurricane-relief-in-honduras.html

Better pics will be posted soon!!!!

New Job Success!

2009-08-08T11:58:00.000-07:00

Guess who's bartending Sunday, Monday and Tuesday nights at the Yellow Moon!

Niko, Niko Suave

2009-08-08T11:53:00.001-07:00

Niko has his own signature drink at the Yellow Moon. It's called the Niko Suave, and it makes him very charming.

Dinner at Niko and Biz's lair

2009-08-08T11:45:00.000-07:00

Niko is an incredible cook. All the men in this neighborhood apparently are. And Charlsie and I reap the benefits. This is rare shot of Biz (who basically is a real live version of The Dude) in what he calls his "Preacher Outfit." His arm is out in an attempt to keep his cigarette out of the frame. Nice try, you classy beast.

Local Magazine Photoshoot

2009-08-08T11:41:00.000-07:00

A local feminist magazine is featuring Loren Morel and the bevy of women that he musically represents. And they'll be wearing my clothes for the spread. This is from the photoshoot day. I'll post pics when it's published!

Red Beans and Wierdos

2009-08-08T11:39:00.000-07:00

Eatin' Charlsie's delectable red beans at our house. Look! She does have a face!

This Guy

2009-08-08T11:36:00.000-07:00

This guy was working on the house next door to mine. He sings to the female jazz vocal parts when he listens to the radio. His name is Lou and I love him. (The tattoo is for the band he was in...totally amazing)

Jury Day, Worn Again photos!

2009-08-08T11:21:00.000-07:00

Runway Show, Worn Again Photos.

2009-08-08T10:58:00.000-07:00

Fashion Show August 26th! Be there or die!

2009-07-25T16:34:00.001-07:00

CLICK TO ENGLARGE, BITCHES

Google and GNOAM

2009-07-22T10:12:00.000-07:00

My older brother, Chris, a Google Genius, informed me that if you put quotes around "Greater New Orleans Artist Mansion" then my blog comes up as the 6th hit. BUT now it's referring to the nice blog post that I did the other day. Good. And the quotes thing? Duh.

Nico, the abused

2009-07-22T10:03:00.000-07:00

Nico is a regular, and regularly abused patron at the Yellow Moon. On this fine night, after Andrea served Nico a dishsoap and vodka cocktail (try it, it looks like an appletini) Vicki took it upon herself to restrain him with tape (duct tape wasn't, unfortunately, available).
She even taped his beer to his hand. How appropriate.Poor baby.

Breakfast of Champions

2009-07-22T10:00:00.000-07:00

Fortunately, Topless TuesdayThursday didn't deter anyone from ever eating Yellow Moon donuts again. In fact, Robert heard them calling yesterday morning. He was inspired.
Coffee Roll
plus scrambled eggs
plus bacon
plus ketchup
plus hot sauce
= best breakfast ever!

Another reason why the Yellow Moon is the best bar in NOLA...I mean, ANYWHERE

2009-07-22T09:38:00.000-07:00

Mom and Dad, if you are reading this, please know that I am in good hands with good people. Please trust my judgment and know that I have many kind and wonderful folks looking out for me. And some of them are pictured below. That being said. Enjoy the documentation of Topless TuesdayThursday, a spontaneous event at the Yellow Moon (ya know, when that full full yellow moon is shining ever so brightly).

And try not to go blind.Woo is going to be modeling for me in my show at the end of August. Perfect, no? Andrea (behind the bar) agreed completely.
Woo was not the only one who took the "topless" requirement at the bar that night to another level (its only fair, right? If the chicks have to be topless, they guys should be bottomless...perfectly logical). John agreed. But you really don't want to see that full length photo. And Vicki, the proprietor of this fine establishment, was most definitely willing to participate (this is the most clothed that I caught her this night).
Let's do the time warp! AGAIN.
And the Pièce de résistance:Ya know those free donuts that the Yellow Moon's got? Yeah, they were horribly violated that night.
I'm so sorry, Mom. Please don't disown me, Dad.

Worn Again, by the way!

2009-07-22T09:14:00.000-07:00

BY THE WAY! The Worn Again runway show went absolutely fabulously! My pieces looked great on my completely stunning models and I received tons of compliments on these pieces from other designers and potential patrons, alike. I came home with a goody bag full of business cards, so I consider it a great success. I will post more pics when my photographer sends me her completed shoot.
xoxo Alicia

Debauche!

2009-07-22T08:58:00.000-07:00

This picture does not describe well enough the awesomeness of this great NOLA band. They're called Debauche, they're straight from Russia (the lead singer's name is Yagor!) and they sound like Gogol Bordello's scarier cousin. Nazdrovia!
My friend/classmate from RISD, Angie (who also happens to live here and whom I came across totally by coincidence via my model call and who modeled my cute vintage bikini soooo awesomely) happens to be seeing this fabulous Russian man. She also dances:Look at that look on her face. How FREAKING adorable is she? She's good in my book.

Another Reason why the Yellow Moon is the best Bar in NOLA

2009-07-22T08:56:00.000-07:00

Daily free donuts. This one's a 12 incher!

GNOAM, Revisited

2009-07-21T10:39:00.000-07:00

So, last week I was invited by a friend of mine (an old classmate from RISD) who was having a show at the Greater New Orleans Artist Mansion. She has these hilarious, quirky and loveable songs (about masturbation, among other things) and she looks like this:
I just went to her house, also, to see her fabulous wig hats (she's wearing one)...and I found out that she lives in the playhouse outside of the larger house where her roommates live. And that she was in the Christmas industry in NYC making tiny houses and people for the Macy's window displays. She is officially one of Santa's displaced helpers, and I love her.

So, anyway, she invited me to her show at GNOAM and, with a little bit of trepidation, I agreed to come out, be entertained and support her and whatever else GNOAM had to offer.

It started out so well! I noticed immediately, as I walked through the house to the backyard how incredibly improved the place looked. No more were there piles of crap everywhere. There was art available to the eye all around the house. And it definitely looked like a place where artists -professional artists- lived and worked. And the backyard! It was COMPLETELY transformed! No more junkyard. We were immediately shown, by another guest, to their fabulously awe-inspiring treehouse back there. It was like Peter Pan's arboreal home meets Hugh Hefners grotto. Amazing.Robert enjoyed a new friend up there and the Loch-Ness Charlsie, fearing for her life 40 feet in the wobbly air, disappeared into the night.

The art was beginning inside, so we descended and proceeded inside to see some of the most beautiful animation I've ever seen (made by some Russian artists out of old, exquisite paintings) accompanied by appropriately eerie, shoegazey music. It was incredibly entrancing, not to mention inspiring.

When it finished, I got up to step outside for a moment while they set up for the next piece. I ran into one of the residents there who I had met and spoken with on that first fateful day (I'm going to call him Dude #1) and was told almost verbatim. "You're Alicia, right? There are alot of people here who are REEEEALLY heated by your presence, here, tonight."

I took a look around and suddenly noticed that I was being eyeballed by at least half of the people there.

"Por que, Darling? Wherefor doth this negativity sprout that cometh so fiercey towards such a Positive Lady?"

"Well," he said, "You wrote a really horrible blog post about the Artist Mansion, and everyone is really pissed about it."

Apparently, my personal blog, intended to update friends and family on my whereabouts and my daily to-do's, was more public than I had any knowledge of. According to this guy, my blog came up 3rd down on the search when Greater New Orleans Artist Mansion was Googled (although I've tested this theory by typing in both "Greater New Orleans Artist Mansion" and "GNOAM" and my blog doesn't even come up). Apparently, this negative publicity was hurting the greater cause of the Mansion (probably by discouraging new residents from moving in and just generally tarnishing their image).
This was never my intention. If the Mansion works for some artists, and it's producing and showing really cool art, then I'm all for it and I am more than willing -excited even- to come to events to support their cause. The only reason that I wrote that blog post was to humorously explain to folks back home why I wasn't living/working at the place I'd been excitedly talking about living/working for the entire month prior. And the major reason I couldn't live/work there was because -and lets be fair, now, it's true- I could never bring a serious buyer or patron into the space as it was (at the time I moved in) and have them take me seriously enough to invest in me...which is INCREDIBLY important as a professional artist: the ultimate point, really, if you want to get your stuff out there. Maybe they were going through a rough phase when I arrived. That's totally fair, but I didn't think that it was my responsibility to help them out of their rough phase (although, perhaps, inadvertantly I did motivate them to get on their game and clean up, with my supposedly "scathing" blog post). I took great effort to make clear that I was never trying to personally insult anyone who lives/works there, and most definitely not trying in any way to stifle their progress or mission. I talked all this through with Dude #1, apologized for any harm done, and with a knuckle handshake, promised to remove the blog post if it would make amends for all.

But then this thing happened....

I was approached by a guest who told me that members of the household were scrambling to put together a projection of my blog as an artistic tar-and-feathering while I was there. Which I thought was HILARIOUS and totally awesome, and which I completely encouraged. I'm a big girl and can take a bashing, if it's soundly (and not drunkenly) justified. I'm all for crazy controversial art things. But, even more, I honestly think that the blog was fair -journalistic even- and not negative for negativity's sake, and I thought that many of the people who hadn't seen it yet nor had formed an antagonistic opinion of it, might have found it fair as well, if not at least entertaining, interesting or funny. And, furthermore, maybe if those that were blindly pissed at me got the negativity out of their system, and if I humbly laughed with them at myself for being obtuse, then the issue might be resolved and we could all get on with it. And maybe even be friends again!

But....then Drunk Angry Girl came along and ruined our peace agreement by making a totally ridiculous screaming scene despite the fact that I tried to explain, between her incoherent rant, that I had resolved the issue with Dude #1 at the Mansion and that, no, I wasn't sitting there smugly and defiantly on her steps, but waiting my turn to be officially, humourously, crucified for arts sake and for her and her roommates sake. I even took a vote with those who had gathered to watch the spectacle as to whether or not they would like me to stay or leave, and got an even 50/50 result. Unfortunately the crazy negativity noises she was emitting alerted Dude #2 at the house (who I knew had serious beef with me from that first fateful day, and therefore whom I had been actively seeking out so that I could reiterate the convo/agreement I had made with Dude #1) and gave him an excuse to ask me and my friends to leave. Immediately.
Boo. I didn't get to see what GNOAM really has to offer artwise and report it on my apparently super-hot blog. I didn't get to see my friend, Kate's, show, and may have even hurt her social standing there vis-a-vis guilty-by-associationg (although she sweetly called me later to actually apologize to me for the wierdness and assure me that I did no wrong by her -what a truly awesome lady). And moreover, BOOOOOOO, I didn't get to be tarred and feathered, nor did I get to fully resolve this issue so that we can be positive artistic collaborators and not negative competitors.

Because, really, do they think it's fair or in the spirit of true expression that I censor my blog, especially after I was maltreated despite my sincere efforts to be amicable?

But despite this, I AM more than glad to be amicable if the opportunity is granted to me.

This is a resolution that I would like to offer to the artists at GNOAM:
If any one of the residents of GNOAM, especially Dude #1 or Dude #2 (you know who you are), would like to invite me back into their space with kindness in their hearts and an absence of scary screaming angry drunk girls in their holsters, I would love to bring with me a professional photographer to take pictures of their beautifully improved and renovated live/work space and write a new post extolling the virtues of this casual, but professional residential artist compound. If they would be so further generous as to invite me to their events, I would be more than happy to report on the awesomeness of the art that they are showing and the progress that they are fiercely spearheading in the unbelieveably creative mecca that is New Orleans.

What do you say, ladies and gents? Wanna lay down our arms and give peace a chance? You know where to contact me (email me from here if ya don't).

Love,
Alicia Zenobia

Success!

2009-07-15T10:02:00.001-07:00

I got into the top ten designers (out of 65 who applied) in the Worn Again competition! I'll be showing 2 out of my five designs. Pics of the jury day and runway day will come soon. Wish me luck for the show on Saturday!

Lock-ness Charlsie

2009-07-13T13:42:00.001-07:00

yet another backside photo of the elusive Charlsie Shaver, my roommate extroardinaire. We were at an equestrian farm in search of some boot conditioner for my beloved cowboy boots.

Dumb, but effective

2009-07-13T13:31:00.000-07:00

This is how a kind man makes me laugh after a week of stressing in a horrifying manner about The Worn Again collection that I'd been working on for Jury presentation (last saturday). Apparently all it takes to help me unwind is a strange human being sticking thread spools to their eyeballs and making alien noises.

Little Brother in the Big Easy

2009-07-13T10:32:00.000-07:00

Nick, my slightly younger brother, came by for a week last week, and experienced as much of the fabulous city of NOLA as he could at once. He came, he drank, he conquered.
He ate some free red beans and rice (yummy NOLA food-staple foreign to us underprivileged Yanks).He watched Loren and Micah and Luke play their fabulously overachieving and often underappreciated music at the infamous Yellow Moon down the block.He saw some weird but awesome bands play at One Eyed Jacks in the Quarter. Dude looked like Christian Bale letting out some excess anger on the slide flute (phenomenal).He grew a Jew-fro. I'm thinking it might have been one of the scary molds that grow around here.He metaphorically and literally watched his life blow open via the aid of some 3-D glasses.While I met this guy. Just so you are aware, every one of you have a New Orleans doppleganger. This is Chad's doppleganger. The beard, the tattoos, the style, the scrappy physique. He was only missing the glorious mustache. Except, no, he wasn't. This guy came through for me.And I chuckled while I put Charlsie in a chokehold in an attempt to get a pic with her. I chuckled because life is so awesomely good here, and I knew my brother would be back for more!

Napoleon Est Mort!

2009-07-13T10:18:00.000-07:00

R.I.P. little monster.

He didn't quite make it through last week. But he had a hilarious run of it. You will be remembered fondly and freakishly. And we've decided not to press charges against Robert (he paid his dues by digging the grave in 100 degree heat...we are cruel but just in these here places).

kitten solution

2009-06-24T12:09:00.000-07:00

Sooooo...our kitten, Napoleon, is, unfortunately, growing into a very ugly little boy. His ears are growing as rapidly as he is. And his eyeball...it's bugging out of his head in the most atrocious way. It may be attributable to this guy:
Robert, my neighbor and a fabulous local carpenter, kind of dropped the kitten one day.
I was tiring of having to apologize to new friends about my ugly kitten, so I decided to make lemonade out 'o' this sour, ugly kitten. I am now the proud owner of a rockin pirate-kitten. Arrrrmeow!

i love this place part 2

2009-06-24T10:03:00.001-07:00

doesn't quite fit. so what? who cares? good'nuff.

i love this place

2009-06-24T10:02:00.001-07:00

yes they are.

Refreshing!

2009-06-12T11:32:00.000-07:00

I haven't posted in a long long time. And there is a very good reason for it. I've been stuck.
Very very stuck.
It's not that I haven't been prolifically designing. I've actually been holed up inside for the past two weeks, not sleeping, barely eating...just making. I was going a little crazy and I was not inspired by my collection. In fact, I kind of hated what I was doing.

I had no wind in my sails.

Which confused me because I have been simultaneously designing for the local Green Project's "Worn Again" recycled fashion show. And it's been great. I'm going with a WWII era Shanghai look and it's fabulous and I'm inspired and I'm in love with what I'm making.

So why was I dreading the moment when I would have to go back to designing for Blues'n'Bruises? The answer came last night, at about 4am (my best thinking time): I had veered too far away from this:

This is the image that originally inspired me. This is the PERSON that I wanted to dress. I went too far into analyzing the many varied meanings of The Blues, and The South and What that Means in a Greater Perspective. And I forgot that all I really wanted to do was dress up the character of Rae.

You see, when I'm designing, I'm designing for a heroine. I need a girl in my head with whom I can consult with: "Would you wear this, darling?" "You wouldn't be caught dead in that, huh?" And my heroines are always strong, powerful women. They are heroines who I admire, who I want in my corner, and, most of all, who I want to be...at least who I could pretend to be for a little while by literally walking in their shoes (and dresses, and pants, and underthings). These women are my muses that inspire the firestorm of creativity that results in my best work.

I had misdirected my perception of Rae. In my head, I had made her a victim instead of a heroine; and victims, frankly, are not people I can really get excited about. And, hell, if I'm not excited about my own work, who else will be? An artist, of any medium, is only successful if they are their own biggest fan. Moreover, I can't send sad models down a runway to down-tempo blues music and expect to get a winning response. I've got to get the audience's adrenaline pumping if I want a memorable, exciting, and, hopefully, profitable show.

So I'm hitting refresh and scrapping the melancholy and listless, Blues-riddled, abused Rae for her more appealing side: the writhing, sweaty, starvingly-maneating, succubus, siren Rae. The rural bombshell that struts down a red-dirt road like it's her catwalk. The rare and wild cat in heat that claws and hisses and spits at her captor. The superheroine that uses sex as her weapon of choice. The predator that sport-hunts with a lust-hungry, crazed look in her eye...who chooses victims indiscriminately.

The All American Sex Zombie.

Ok, so it's a little bit crass, but at least it's got some life to it! My collection, thankfully, has become undead!

p.s. I've decided not to post pics of the things I'm working on. Sorry, guys! I want a grand reveal when showtime comes around...plus it stresses me out to have to take crappy pics of my half-finished pieces and post them.

Happy Abandoned Orphanage Day!

2009-05-25T19:29:00.000-07:00

Ok, so, as a Memorial Day treat, I've decided to post TWO blogs today. I've been doing so much and blogging so little. I've got to catch up.

Charlsie and I explored an abandoned orphanage (which had most recently been used as a boys reformatory type of school prior to its complete abandonment after Katrina) today. She photographs abandoned buildings (and is documenting entropy therein), so I decided to tag along. Here are some pics of the place we broke into..I mean visited...today.

It looks like they just picked up and walked out. Nothing had changed, really, in the four years since the hurricane.

or maybe it has, a bit...

olllld typewriter in the hall....

Mold eaten classrooms....

Mold-engulfed orphan beds in the attic!

Abandoned library.....

Teeheehee.....

haunting attic window.....

mysterious cabinet full of keys....

rad-tastic old sewing machine (jealous).....

creepy nativity scene...

TERRIFYING dentist chair....wtf?

possible hobo sign?

We stayed for about an hour, leaving hastily for fear of arrest/mold poisoning/zombie attack.

"Roughing It" in Shreveport

2009-05-25T18:20:00.000-07:00

This weekend my roommate, Charlsie, drove me five hours up to Shreveport, LA, (her hometown) to see her people and her culture. And what a fascinating anthropological adventure it was!

This was an Exxon station. This is what they sell in gas stations in Louisiana. I wanted to try 'em all! Unfortunately, they had just run out of everything listed above. Very popular eatin' spot.

Charlsie had a gig assisting a photographer friend (Charlsie's a photographer!) at the film/music/art house, Minicine. The totally rad guy who runs the place has a collection of hundreds of old film projectors that he wanted documented in pictures. That was cool and all, but take a look at the description of one of their past shows...if you can't decipher it, it reads:

"What if the Velvet Underground were blues cowboys from hell? What if Stereolab drove motorcycles and pick-ups and played shady bars on the Texas border?...Propulsive urban dirges for modern ghost towns."

I can't say it better myself. This is exactly the direction/mood/lifeblood that I want to evoke with Autonomous Clothing Co. I wish I had been here to catch that undoubtedly remarkable show!

*******

We "camped" that night at Charlsie's MeMe's (Cajun French grandma) lake house. In the morning, Charlsie showed me the lake...that had trees growing out of it. Magic water-dwelling trees.

I know that swamps have trees growing out of them, but really...out of a lake? This place is so alive that shit will grow anywhere!

We went fishing with worms. And it was gross.

But I caught a fish! A catfish to be exact. And I was more terrified than it was.

We had a bit of time to kill before the show we were going to, so Charlsie took me down her favorite country road.

How perfect is this place?!

Here's a (rare) photo of Charlsie, taking a much better photo of the above than I could ever dream of taking. That Charlsie, she's always gotta one-up me. Doesn't she just look like the perfect little Dorothy, innocently admiring the cornfields? Hope a (very possible) tornado doesn't pick her up and carry her away!

Also, unbeknownst to me, there's oil in these here fields! That's one of thousands of oil rigs in Louisiana. This is seriously one of the lushest, resource-rich states that I've ever visited. It's like Eden or something...am I gushing a bit? Is my Louisiana lust showing? I like it here, ok?

*****************

The show that we saw that night was pretty rad. The band was a local bootstomping Shreveport band, called Dirtfoot, and the venue was the town's Mudbug Madness festival. I felt like I was mainlining Louisiana. And then this guy showed up:

And now I could end this trip satiated. I could chase this dragon no higher, tonight. But tomorrow is another day....

I forgot to mention

2009-05-19T17:33:00.001-07:00

I picked up this little monster from a local painter who had a box full of em. He was going to eat them, so I decided to take one off his hands. His name's Napoleon. And I hope he grows into those ears.

Doing THINGS

2009-05-17T16:21:00.000-07:00

Here's a pic of a skirt in progress, just so you know that I'm actually working on stuff and not just hanging out with these lunatics:

or marvelling at graffiti made with menstrual blood:

Or stalking wildlife in City Park:

Or stalking little green men in the KK projects:

I'm actually working. Seriously. I even have three other things finished which will be soon divulged to the public eyeballs.

The Road Trip: Part 2

2009-05-16T22:10:00.000-07:00

I've been putting off writing this part of the blog, because, as you will see, it is very revealing and possibly damaging to The Greater New Orleans Artist Mansion. And although they suck, they did treat me relatively fairly. Let me explain...

Jacqui and I arrived at GNOAM at about midnight, having warned the resident with whom I was in contact (lets call him Ron) that I would be arriving at this exact time. We let ourselves into the house, whose main entrance was wide open despite the shady neighborhood, and introduced myself to the two fellows sitting on the couch in the large living room and asked if they knew where Ron was. Blank stares. "Dunno."

Awkward.

After calling him on my cellphone from inside the house (the two on the couch didn't seem that it might be appropriate to tell me where his room might be let alone say howdy-do back to me), Ron appeared in the hallway. He babbled incoherently about some paperwork he needed to fill out -and how this was a scary neighborhood-and how he didn't have keys for me yet -and how I might be able to have the back door fingerprint-reading lock programmed for me tonight -oh and here's your room:

Cooool.....

So, I kinda thought that my room was supposed to be on the first floor, not in the basement...I didn't even know that basements were structurally possible in New Orleans (or smart for that matter). That window doesn't look too secure...didn't you just tell me this was a "really scary" neighborhood? And I know that you said the furnishings weren't going to be "glamourous" but two dirt encrusted half deflated air mattresses as "bed", and a 2'x2' tv stand as "work table" might be considered a little bit less than unglamourous. And this closet, well:

That's a creative solution, but I'm not so sure that this piece of string is going to hold up to the weight of even one clotheshanger, and those fabric "shelves"might not exactly provide the storage space I was looking for. Thanks for the effort though.

Jacqui was even more skeeved than I was (I was quietly panicking, thinking that this was to be how I would spend my next 4 months). We elected to spend the night sleeping in the car and assess the situation in the morning.

The light of day, however, didn't exactly do wonders for the place:

cool bathroom.........

cool hallway.......

cool bathtub......

cool "gallery space"........

cool kitchen......

cool pile of shit in the corner.......

cool...absolutely appalling-

completely squalid-

totally offensive junkyard-

I mean cool backyard.....

I'd like to go on, but I think this is enough to show you how absolutely incredible this place was. This wasn't exactly the professional residency that I had been sold via all of GNOAM's online media....this wasn't a place that I could work, let alone live. So, I confronted Ron and his resident cronie (who proceeded to immediately unprofessionally gang up on me whilst trying to defend their professionalism) and I left. To GNOAMS credit, with alot of supremely honed cajoling, I was able to get my security deposit back from the relatively sympathetic mysterious off-site landlord guy.

AND I found a truly amazing place to live that same day. This scary, squalid place did not colour my view of New Orleans or it's fantastic artists, either, as the days that came afterwards were filled with the vibrantly talented and friendly people and extroardinarily exciting experiences I was expecting from this town. Pics and stories will soon come.

The Road Trip: Part 1

2009-05-11T12:02:00.000-07:00

After a week of travelling through the beautiful south, I finally made it to New Orleans! Much drama ensued when I got here, but lets start at the very beginning...

Jacqui, my friend of 13 years, volunteered to road trip with me and all of my many belongings to NOLA. This was our first day of travel, stopped at a gas station/dairy queen somewhere in Maryland. We needed lots of windshield wiper fluid to wash all the many large bugs that were to soon splatter nastily across the windshield for five days. Mississippi definitely won for the state with the most kamikaze bugs.

Our first stop was supposed to be Wilmington, North Carolina (the pretty, seaside town where Dawson's Creek was filmed), but thanks to our GPS unit leading us an hour astray, we settled for Raleigh, NC...a very happy accident. Despite our reservations, Raleigh was amazingly friendly and full of great places to go. Immediately upon our arrival at the hotel, we came upon this kind fellow (Joe), the hotel bartender, who proceeded to be our hilarious tour guide of Raleigh and its local bars. Soon after this picture was shot, Jacqui bought a sub from the only place open at 3 am in Raleigh, upon Joe's recommendation. She ended up having to tip the angry delivery guy ALOT, because apparently he was Joe's oot dealer and he was all kinds of cranky. The sandwich cost her $20, WAS incredibly delicious, and Joe was immediately expelled for his stupidity. Poor boy.

Next morning/afternoon we took to the town. Raleigh is GORGEOUS! Its a small college and young professional type of town with lots of art, cool stores (and bars as mentioned), delicious food (that jacqui is eating oompa loompa style, here) and tons of southern hospitality. Out of all the places that we visited along our trip, Raleigh was by far our favorite.

Whilst in Raliegh, on our local pub crawl, we ran into two wonderful fellows, Jonathan and Adam. They were visiting from Myrtle Beach, and invited us to come stay with them for a few days. We made our way down the Carolina coast, stopping at beautiful, kitschy Carolina Beach. Jacqui, as you can tell, hates the beach, but humoured my ocean lust for a couple of hours.

Jonathan and Adam had the largest, most luxurious trailer I've ever witnessed. Three bedrooms? Waterfront? Amazing. And cool party tricks (this is flavored tobaccy in the hookah, of course). Adam was enthralling us with smoke bubbles, as you can see.

Lunch, the next day, was had at Captain Poo's lovely seaside restaurant. Ironic because soon thereafter Jacqui had an episode of three day long non-pooing which left her in this state:

Pregnant with Cap'n Poo's large, angry baby.

Later, we indulged in the traditional Myrtle Beach pasttime of put-put. I won, of course.

We celebrated with an awkward drink at a very Italian martini bar where we were looked upon in horror for our lack of fake tans and bleached hair. One drink and forty glares was more than enough to get us out of there.

As much fun as we were having, we needed to keep moving. We bid farewell to our new friends and headed to Atlanta.

It was boring and didn't embrace our uniqueness. Memphis, however, was delicious:

And full of history!

Beale Street!

Graceland!

And beer!

The next day, after a disgusting shake at Shake'n'Steak, we drove through the wilds of Mississippi to our final destination. We arrived at the Greater New Orleans Artist Mansion at midnight, where the drama began....to be continued.

Black Snakes, Blue Blues, and White Panties?

2009-04-20T10:42:00.000-07:00

Black Snake Moan, a film that I saw a few years ago, is the creative crux of the collection that I'm designing right now. I already had a strong and strange affinity for the south -the sunshine, warmth, slow pace, nice people and simple lifestyle- but this movie, with physical and mental grime contrasted against the idyllic beauty of the deep south really hit my head hard. I want to visit the magical land where it takes place, but I still can't figure out if that's Tenessee or Mississippi. Any help? It's a bizzarrely entrancing setting.

This film still totally embodies the feeling and style elements that you'll see in the collection. I'm definitely incorporating the midriff t-shirt style. It actually made an unexpected comeback (referencing the 90's so soon?) in the Fall collections this year. The confederate conflict tee print is hilarious...maybe I can do something with that too, although I know that I need to play that card carefully. Cute underwear/hotpants will be there too. And of course, chains and bruises. And then there's this fabulous tattoo that I just noticed:

That's one of Christina Ricci's real tattoos. It's praying hands (to declare her Christianity, apparently) that was a coverup for a previous tattoo of a bat. Ironic. And what a great image for a potential screenprint.

Dues, Blues, and Bruises

2009-04-17T12:45:00.000-07:00

Life is finally having a heavy momentum to it.

I've paid my dues as a grunt of the sick and savage NYC fashion system, I've educated myself under the gayest of fabulous professors at New York's state's institution of fashion. I've pimped out my most cherished personal hobbies and talents for the sake of scraping together rent and libations (these winters are long and grey, and alcoholism seems to be a socially acceptable alternative to insanity). And with the few bucks and braincells that I've managed to reserve in a lock box, I'm heading south.

Around May 1st, I'll be traveling by road with my sewing studio and a couple hundred Autonomous Clothing Company labels in the back of a purple scion-mobile to the great city of New Orleans. I will be living and working amongst other inspired (and hopefully a bit depraved) artists at the Greater New Orleans Artist Mansion. Four months of subsidized artistic indulgence, uninterrupted by the survival-work so necessary in NYC, in the articulated bowels of the deep south will result in my first full blown and shown, Spring collection.

As raw, visceral and real as I hope this experience to be, my Spring collection will be based on the mythical south...the decadent, feral and hedonistic version of Eden that exists in the minds eye of non-southerners (myself included) and that has been romanticized to the point of bastardization in films and literature: the southern belles, blues, booze, bibles and bruises of a sweating, sinning, and saving broken-promised land. Oh yes, the grass is much more verdant in the south, when you're living in the grey, grey north! And I'm salivating for the dripping, rare, smoking hot meat of this salvation!

But I digress. This blog is for updates on my progress...to keep you updated, and to keep me progressing. I'll be posting pictures of my creations, my travels and the fabulous people that I meet and eat (southerners are cannibals, right?). And I welcome your constructive criticism of my garments, sardonic bashings of my ignorance, recommendations for books or movies or restaurants or brothels or bogs that could fertilize the growth of my delicious collection.