this is a private blog for my design students and assorted other survivors. Tro blemakers all
this is a private blog for my design students and assorted other survivors. Tro blemakers all.
this is a private blog for my design students and assorted other survivors. Tro blemakers all.
this is a private blog for my design students and assorted other survivors. Tro blemakers all.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

I'm doing a small job, (a poster) for a museum which specializes in the Decorative Arts. Anyway, they've sent me a bunch of jpegs of the art work for the poster, and amongst them, was this picture of pink silk shoes from the 1830's. Don't they look just like something you'd find today, in a chic little shop in Chelsea or Soho ? I'll take a pair...
















I have just learned that this kind of heel is called a Louis heel, and, the name and style originated in the seventeenth century with King Louis XIV.  As he was only five foot three inches tall, he commissioned heels to be made for him to increase his height.  Nobody was allowed to have heels higher than his own. He declared that only nobility could wear red shoes and his shoes were often decorated with battle scenes.  They eventually became popular with ladies, especially King Louis’ mistress, Madame Pompadour.

 In the late 1700’s Napoleon banished high heels in an attempt to show equality.  High heels were associated with opulence and wealth, which was to be avoided at the time. Despite the law, Marie Antoinette went to the guillotine defiantly in two inch heels.
Today the “Louis” term refers to heels with a concave curve and outward taper at the bottom or base of the heel. They are also  rather ergonomic, as the heel is placed directly under the natural heel of the foot, thus creating balance and even distribution of weight which helps keep the back and legs aligned.  

They are, seemingly, quite popular for outdoor wear and weddings in particular, as the heels won’t sink into soft ground as they would with a stiletto heel. Not that I plan to wear that particular heel to any weedings, I mean weddings. Ok maybe ...

Monday, April 29, 2013

Recently, there have been rumors, some might say threats of new platforms or devices from Apple.... 

Perhaps, the most prominent insinuation - has been that of an Apple watch ... well, to set the record straight, that's old news really, very old news in fact.

Here's an Apple watch from the mid 60's (not literally), a decade which admittedly, I have little memory of ... the watch is by Dieter Rams, Brauns Director Emeritus of Design -who is I'm sure you know by now, the real source behind Apple's and Johny Ives' aluminum revolution.  

Of course it looks familiar !




Tuesday, April 23, 2013

dig it - http://pinterest.com/chrisrbentley/cabinet-of-curiosities/

Wednesday, April 17, 2013


" The usual aim of the fable is to teach a lesson by drawing attention to animal behaviour and its relationship to human actions and shortcomings. Animals in fables speak metaphorically of human folly, criticizing human nature. Yet it seems that the nature of Karen Knorr’s work has another aim. In  Knorr’s  “Fables”  the animals are not dressed up to resemble humans nor do they illustrate any explicit  moral. Liberated, they roam freely in human territory  drawing attenton to  the unbridged gap between nature and culture. They encroach into the  domain of the museum and other cultural sanctuaries which resolutely forbids their entry.

Indifferent, the animal remains “other”,  a stranger to the context in which it is inserted. The animal is not the real subject of the work nor is architecture.  Karen Knorr’s work shows us the incommensurable distance between two worlds: raw nature on the one hand and on the other the cultural site which allows nature entry only in the form of a representation. Although peaceful, the intrusion of the animals’ presence subverts the institution. The work highlights the “against nature” character of the museum itself.

Karen Knorr’s work  assumes this paradox fully and plays with staging the perception of nature within the domain of representation and artifice. "






Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Monday, April 01, 2013

The Confessions of Robert Crumb (1987)

Monster Children magazine, now into it's 38 th issue, has become one of my favorite publications in the surf, skate, photography & design arena. Perhaps it's the magazine-meets-book binding, or the rectangular long-page format. There has been a evolutionary leap from the magazines beginnings as an Aussie surf and skate rag, but they've managed the transition smoothly while still keeping that core content/philosophy intact. 

Monster Children has consistently featured some of the finest guerilla surf photography, and their love of the wave is sincere and profound. As they've grown, that sense of the genuine has stayed with them, and it spills over into everything they do. The Beautiful Losers piece is witty and candid, a refreshingly unpretentious take on one of the most significant gatherings of Pervasive Art ever assembled. It's this ability to walk the line between art and accessibility of culture that sets Monster Children apart from the magazine-rack pack.