You're so vain, you probably think this post is about you...Here's a nugget of knowledge for the day: "haute couture" is actually a term owned/guarded by the Chambre Syndicale de la Haute Couture in Paris (say Paris like "pay-ree"). They publish a list of fashion houses each year, and those fashion houses on the list qualify as "haute couture". No one else does. Crucially, haute couture houses must make clothing that is custom-fitted. If they stop that and start making pret-a-porter, or ready-to-wear clothing, then they'll lose their haute couture status. There are ten today: Adeline Andre, Chanel, Christian Dior, Jean-Paul Gaultier, Givenchy, Christian Lacroix, Scherrer, Dominique Sirop, Frank Sorbier, and Emanuel Ungaro. Note that the brands you think would be haute couture aren't even among them. As the wikipedia article states with much pride, those that challenged the haute couture establishment aren't around anymore, and people have realized that cheap clothing doesn't cut it, and have returned to bowing at the haute couture altar. In America, this altar means all that is sold at places like Neiman Marcus, by the way - not those ten fashion houses. So you know what haute couture really means? Elitism. And that's the nugget of knowledge for the day.
Anyway, I just decided to call this post about the random "extracurricular" things I've been doing these past three weeks "haute couture". Even though it has nothing to do with dressmaking.
A woman without a man is like a... something without something else.The first thing I did this year was see the play "Mother Courage and Her Children" at the Shakespeare in the Park festival on the first weekend we were at Barnard. A bunch of us went - me and Amelia and Mir did not wait in the humungous Central Park line for tickets (Shakespeare in the Park is free and open to the public, as long as you're willing to stand in line from 5 am to noon), we got the boxes of storage items for the whole suite instead. I think that was more gratifying than waiting in line trying to sleep in uncomfortable positions anyway - we actually accomplished something physically, something that burly moving men were supposed to do, three relatively little girls. Appropriate too, given that the play "Mother Courage" features a very capable, strong, assertive woman in the spotlight of the plot - the titular Mother Courage, a woman living in the Thirty Years' War in Europe, profiting off the war by peddling an assortment of goods in her covered wagon, a monstrous piece of wood that she has her children lug around like oxen, following the troops as they march ceaselessly in and out of battle, dying regularly, and killing peasants. While Mother Courage wants the war to continue so she can keep buying and selling at a profit, and thus survive, she does not want her children fighting under the banner, because she's convinced they'll all be killed. And they are all killed, somehow or other, by the war.
Never give up on the good times ("Mother Courage")Running alongside the one-by-one loss of the children is Mother Courage's economic ups and downs and her intense frugality that forces her to make some horrible decisions. At one point one of her sons has been captured by the enemy and is about to be executed if he doesn't tell them where he hid his side's cash box. Being a stupid, honest soldier he doesn't tell them. Mother Courage uses her prostitute friend as a go-between to try to negotiate a deal, and the army is willing to be bribed - for the price of Mother Courage's entire wagon. She cannot simply throw the entire wagon away, even if her son's life hangs in the balance. Losing the wagon means certain death for herself and her daughter. So what does she do? She offers them less than the asking price. They say no, and she finally decides to throw in everything, but by then it's too late, and he's dead.
This woman is like a DEITY ("Mother Courage")So yeah, lots of stuff like that - horrible, horrible decisions. I can't put it into words exactly what this clash is about. I suppose it's about the political economy of a war, but it's also about choosing who gets to survive, and about the way capitalism does not lift us out of our misery but instead drags us down from our dreams. As Mother Courage recounts in "The Song of the Great Capitulation", she was once an optimistic young girl who wanted to climb to the highest peaks and look down on everyone else - but she has been knocked down, forced off, and there's no use in the uphill battle anymore. But I haven't mentioned the best thing about this production: Meryl Streep, who plays Mother Courage. I hope everybody understands how amazing of an actress she is - well, she's like that live too. She was absolutely perfect for the role and played it cunning and sharp at first, then psycho as time went on and her children started dying off in the war she needed to continue for her livelihood. As we know she excels in playing a woman who must make truly nauseating decisions - i.e., "Sophie's Choice" - and that translates here. Meryl Streep is so emotional and blazing and intense - the New York Times review described her as a "supernova", and I think that's an apt assessment. The sadness of her condition by the end of the play definitely made me cry, and the people around me too. We saw the play on its last night, and I was so thankful to be able to witness such an amazing actress, acting in the flesh and blood. It's more than acting, sometimes. It's more like a manifestation.
Are we cool enough to be haute couture? Please dear god let us be hip enough... (Y Tu Mama Tambien)Other than the play, I haven't really seen a whole lot of random acts of culture in New York. We did go to the Latin film festival to see Y Tu Mama Tambien, which I had never seen but is some kind of an indie cult classic. Let's just say that I was not so impressed. It's one of those movies that tries to change your life, man, and make you see the world in a whole new way, and make you just want to pick up and go somewhere, man, just live. Get the impression? There's no real plot and no real moral of the story. Two immature, horny teenaged boys whose girlfriends have just left for Europe decide to take an older woman to a mythical beach that they just made up. Chaos ensues. But it's not really chaos. It's just gratuitous sexual conversations and random tidbits of information about the scenery that tries to make some kind of political statement, but fails miserably in making any kind of impact. Okay, if you liked Motorcycle Diaries, you'll probably like this. If you hated it, then you'll really hate this.
They are not haute couture, and I love them for it (Little Miss Sunshine)Other than that, two really great movies that I would recommend to anyone that I recently saw were Little Miss Sunshine and My Sassy Girl. The former is a recent indie release about a dysfunctional, working-class, fucked up American family in Albuquerque who, upon hearing that the little girl has been entered in the beauty pageant Little Miss Sunshine, packs up in their ugly, rotting yellow van and drive to Los Angeles. The latter is a few-years-old Korean movie about a guy who saves a drunk girl from walking into a subway and then just can't seem to get rid of her - that and she also can't keep herself from brusquely going up to complete strangers and lambasting them for picking up underaged prostitutes, and she looks for any possible excuse to hit the poor guy who can't resist following her demands to meet whenever she calls. But both are hilarious and heartwarming in very, very offbeat ways. And by offbeat I mean Little Miss Sunshine features a grandpa who does heroin and a brother-in-law who just survived a suicide attempt because his gay lover left him for the other Proust scholar at the university, and My Sassy Girl features a heroine who is really a no-holds-barred all-out bitch (but in a good way!). There are also UFOs in My Sassy Girl. And that's all I'll say.
Look how happy they are. It's how happy you'll be if you watch this movie (My Sassy Girl)Other than that, me and saffron have started regularly going to this awesome store called Kinokuniya. It sells Japanese books and stationery, or at least that's what it says on the front window. But really it's a mecca of all things Japanese, featuring not only boring "books" and "stationery" but rows and rows of manga, anime, and soundtracks to match. Practically everything you could've possibly heard of, Kinokuniya has. We went to get posters, and woefully, they don't have a very good poster selection. But you can get the manga and anime, as well as totally random things like calendars, action figures, Totoro t-shirts, stuffed animals, books that have to do with fandoms, and like every issue of fandom magazines like Shonen Jump and Shojo Beat. They also have non-animated movies, books in Japanese and English on everything from origami to cooking, a children's section in the back, and a very wealthy stationery section upstairs that sells gorgeous paper. Most impressive to me, however, was the fact that manga goes as low as $7.50 at Kinokuniya. As in an entire graphic novel, as in one of the 42 tankobon that I only have three of but spent $10.00 for the other two each in the Lincoln Nebraska Barnes & Noble. Fuck yes. So far that's the only thing I have found that is actually cheaper in New York than in Lincoln.
All hail the God of Otakus Everywhere.Kinokuniya, at Rockefeller Center, is also so very Japanese-cutesy in its demeanor. All the staff are Japanese, and there's this little contraption in the front of the store that you put your umbrella into, and when you pull your umbrella out it's wrapped in plastic. You're actually not allowed to enter the store unless your umbrella's wrapped up. It's so kawaii. I end this post with the warning that: things that are cool are sometimes worth shit, and things that look very grubby are sometimes gems, and things that are truly awesome do not need to be called cool in order to be respected. El fin.
