George Hurrell photo of Jane Russell.

When I read that Knowing, the new film with Nicholas Cage took the top spot at box office this weekend, it made me think of how clueless the American film going public is. During the Great Depression in the 1930’s, Hollywood’s offerings included lavish musicals, stunning actresses, dapper actors, stunning photography (George Hurrell). There was a high art to the film industry that barely exists today. Now, with the studios marketing to the lowest common denominator, what would you expect? A film that gets panned such as Knowing and Friday the 13th land at the top of the heap. I mean…what?!? It’s as though there is no interest in capturing the glory days of Hollywood because there’s be no one to buy the friggen ticket. The horrendous lack of taste and reference from the public leaves our culture void of any depth.

Look, I watch reality TV so I am clearly not a snob, but wouldn’t it be lovely to have film choices beyond “bromances” (boy do I hate that expression), sensationalist catastophies, slasher flicks, and wait…how many comic books must we turn into films? Can we please do a movie with Betty, Veronica, Archie, Reggie and Jughead. It seems so timely with Gossip Girl and all. Except naturally, it would have to be R rated to spice it up or it wouldn’t sell one ticket. So, I guess I will just keep to my mindless reality TV until the industry retools itself to reflect the resurgence of the Golden Age of Hollywood. And no, I will not hold my breath.

The Original Deep Throat

Now that I have your attention, here’s what I am wondering about. Not that Linda Lovelace isn’t riveting, but I am referencing the Deep Throat from Watergate. Let’s face it, if I put up a picture of W. Mark Feit, you’d not even get this far.

In every corporate or political intrigue, there are unwilling participates, albeit with great hesitation. They are conflicted because it goes against their better judgment, moral fiber, values; however, they simply are doing their job. You know, like Nazi-lite. So my question is, where are all the Deep Throats of the financial calamity? Are you trying to tell me that there isn’t a boat load of unwilling participants that knew how wrong these sub-prime mortgages were, or noticed all these weird, jillion-dollar, Madoff-Ponzi-scheme checks, or were horrified at those top level meetings at Citibank on the eve of ordering their new jet or million dollar redecoration plans. Where are they all? Afraid of losing their jobs? Afraid of being murdered? What? Come one. This whole corporate intrigue stuff is so hokey.

I saw Duplicity last night with Julia Roberts and Clive Owen.

Julia Roberts, Clive Owen, Duplicity

Though the movie is delicious-to-look-at, lite entertainment, more importantly it centers on corporate intrigue and things that really, if you think about it, make large corporations look like they are run by such a bunch of moronic buffoons. People you wouldn’t give two shits about or would want to spend two minutes with and frankly, wish ill will. And anyone that screws over Julia and Clive deserves to go to the pokey. (Corporate=Doing the Hokey Pokey)

And this is why I got to thinking. Where are all the people that surround those people? In every office, in every bank, in every brokerage firm, at the Big 3 car companies, in the Congress. Where are our new Deep Throats? Is it just too soon in the game before they come forward unable to live with their guilt and start tipping off the Feds? And since just about everyone in Washington now has dirt on their hands, where would these Deep Throats go to? The newspapers? (Do they yield as much power as in the case of Washington Post in the early 1970′s?) Perhaps The Huffington Post, my online bible?

All this outrage about the money comes down to a very simple rule that Deep Throat (not Linda) told Woodward and Bernstein, “Just…follow the money.” And it is with this I say to prosecutors, journalists, online and newspaper editors, the angry-at-AIG-mob and Katie Couric, go…find your Deep Throats. Help bring all this to light once and for all, so we can really see how despicable these greed mongers are. Let’s not forget that Greed is number three of the 7 Deadly Sins hit parade, with a bullet.

And perhaps most importantly, we should expand all college curricula to include:

• ETHICS 101
• THE BUSINESS OF ETHICS
• ETHICS=TRUE SUCCESS
• THE ETHIC OF ETHICS
• MASTERING ETHICS
• ETHICAL CULTURE
• ETHICS FOR DUMMIES

The Enchantress.

The Enchanted.

What fun. Marianne Faithfull is in New York City for a couple of weeks and its been a flurry of meals followed by long meaningful chats overlooking the Hudson River from The Standard Hotel in the Meatpacking District. Pinch me. We met in 2000 when she was staying at Carrie Fisher’s house, where I used to be under employ. There was a party that evening, then again there was a party every evening in “the good ol’ days”, and I noticed Marianne sitting alone in a room filed with people. I couldn’t resist going over to her and introducing myself. It was before her album Kissin’ Time was released, and the album began playing. She started singing the lyrics to Sex With Strangers and that was it. I was bit. We formed (what I am beyond pleased to say) a lasting friendship. We have kept in touch over the years, though Marianne lives in Paris, and seeing her after so many years, felt like it was just the other day that we sat alone in a room full of celebrities, un-bothered by our surroundings and speaking from the heart and sharing a moment that would last forever.

Thursday: The first night we went to dinner with Francois, her manager/great friend (the latter portion being what evolved after a long, romantic relationship… but who hasn’t been there) to Morimoto.

Marianne: I am going to be on the CBS Sunday Morning.

Abe: Fantastic. I love that show.

Marianne: I hope they don’t ask me things that will overshadow the new record. Like about The Stones and Kate Moss, you know.

Abe: Just be yourself. People have always loved that about you. It’s part of who you are, honest, irreverent.

Marianne: Really? Oh, I don’t see that.

Abe: You need to spend a few days with me, I’ll remind you who you are.

Marianne: Oh, good.

Somehow the conversation shifts to blow jobs.

Abe: It’s been way too long.

Marianne: Allen Ginsberg tried teaching me how to give a blow job. He said it was like prayer.

Abe: That’s hilarious. Maybe you can talk about that on the Sunday Morning Show. How many people can say that?

Friday: We met again to run errands. Exciting things like cashing checks and buying nail brushes and moisturizer. You know all that very exciting celebrity stuff that everyone imagines is riveting. First we went to lunch at Fig and Olive (also in the Meatpacking District). The waiter came over and graciously or gratuitously went into a long, meaningful rendition of olive oil (the movie).

Waiter: This olive oil comes from the bla bla region of Greece, and the bla bla bla with a nose of flora…

Marianne and Francois are looking at each other avoiding eye contact with the waiter. Marianne holds back a smirk.

Waiter: And finally, this olive oil comes from Italy, and has bla bla bla bla, hint of seasoning. I’ll be right back with your Pellgrino.

Marianne: What was that, that poor dear boy. (Burst into laughter.)

Francois (is his beautiful French accent): Marianne, this is how he makes his 20% tip. In America they have to put on a show.

Abe: It’s sad.

Marianne: I mean, come on. (Snickering) These olives were picked by moonlight in Tuscany at mindight. I thought I was going to laugh in his face.

Somehow the conversation shifts to blow jobs.

Marianne: I hear Carrie gives a mean blow job. I don’t know how I heard that. But I did hear it.

Abe: I am sure Carrie told you.

Marianne: Yes, you’re quite right. She did tell me.

Saturday: We’re due to meet later today for manis and petis and a bit of shopping. Can’t wait. Surely our favorite topic, blow jobs, will come up again.

Marianne’s new album is fantastic and getting great reviews. Check it out. xoxo

http://www.easycomeeasygothealbum.com/english/music.html

Luv Huh.

During my day of reflection, quietly noticing the world around me, I began to get really annoyed at the amount of attention being thrust on the people who brought down our economy. I am officially over the AIG news, Bernie Madoff, Timothy Gietner, Larry Summers, Republicans and anything that reeks of greed. Just over it. And while I’m at it, I wish Barak Obama would go and sit behind his desk for a week and avoid interviews as opposed to going on the talk-show circuit to promote his stimulus plan…a.k.a. future book. Oh, and while I’m really at it the entire bloviator media pool starring Chris Matthews, Keith Oberman, Morning Joe, virtually all of Fox News, much of CNN (not Anderson Cooper, luv huh) and naturally all of CNBC should just shut the fuck up…all of you. When I grew up, we watched the network news, (I’ve gone back to watching Katie Couric) there was no such thing as pundits and life was so much better then. What we get now with all the blather filling the airwaves is a bunch of egomaniacs, most of whom talk to loud and frankly, say nothing. Kind of like me and all the many bloggers…but surely I don’t pretend to be something I am not. I do this as a creative outlet. I don’t care to force anyone to agree with me. The whole idea of I Mean…What?!? is to create a forum to vent about what bugs me and hopefully others will participate. Not get ratings.

What we need now is quiet reserve, determination and steadiness. We need to focus on the small tasks before us and working tirelessly to get to the next step. Sure go and get that 165 million dollars back…but don’t think that will change your life one iota. Revenge does not bring joy. It feeds the beast so all we have now is posturing, name calling and bickering. Not fierce.

Luv huh, too.

The only person emerging as superstar and meaningful hero is Michelle Obama. I understand she is even putting in a vegetable garden at the White House near the Rose Garden from the suggestion of Alice Waters. Two snaps up girl!  

Men on Film from In Living Color, 2 Snaps Up.

Michelle has the grace and charm that many in the public eye should look to as role model. I still stand my by assertion that the Jason Wu white gown at the inauguration was all wrong but beyond that, she is the one person now to be the role model for men, women and children. Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barak’s amazing, but as I said, he needs to shut up for a minute. But Michelle can keep doing what she’s doing, the new First Energizer Bunny.

Rest In Peace.

It takes the loss of someone we barely know, if at all, to put things in perspective. I am reminded that life is so fleeting, that we are here for such a short time to have our impact, to make our statement, to be a good person, to be generous, kind and considerate. This is what we hear about Natasha.

So for today, I am not going to go on and on about the ills of the financial world, or dish anyone’s upper lip augmentation. I am going to be still and remember that today is all I have. And I will do something that makes me know that I am a person who lives his life making choices that are in the best interest of others as well as myself. My heart goes out to the family members of those loved ones they have lost.

Believe me, I’ll be back with a vengeance, persnickety and annoyed. But it takes a day of reckoning to sit back and consider whether I am being the best I can be. My friend Tim’s dog Cain passed away yesterday as well. Loss of a loved one is a critical moment of change. It washes over you and ultimately re-shapes your destiny.

Bye Bye Cain

I wish all of you that experience loss, God speed.

Mamma & Dadda's Boys

Aww, poor babies. Did it hurt when the SEC yanked the silver spoon out of your ass? Andrew, Mark (and Mommy Dearest, Ruth) are trying to act like innocent bystanders, victims of their own circumstance. I ain’t buyin’ it. These boys are like the thousands, if not millions of spoiled rich kids, who on their own merit could not make a hill of beans out of themselves and resort to working for Daddy, Daddy, Daddy. And then, when that doesn’t pay enough for what they think they are entitled to, they run to Mommy, Mommy, Mommy for chunks of dough to buy houses. Having been raised in an upper middle class suburb, I’ve seen these prissy boys my whole life. My dad died when I was in high school and I’ve been fending for myself ever since…and proud of having graduated the School of Hard Knocks. I learned how to handle my life on life’s terms, to take full responsibility and control of my destiny. Same with my sisters. They are amazing at taking care of their families and relying on better judgment to get them through. What can I say, we is feyess.

Join the club...buy your t-shirt today!

You can’t blame the Madoff boys exclusively for being such big takers. The Boomers tend to be the most codependant, overcompensating, hypocrities and now we have a generation of spoiled brats who need to tug on the apron strings and suckle from the nipple of control-freak parenting. But, like anything else, we all have to grow up and stand on our own two feet. If you’ve been through any kind of therapy, one of the break-through moments is accepting who your parents were and forgiving them. ‘Cause we all accuse our parents for screwing us up. It would be critical for these boys to learn how to detach from parents that (clearly in this Madoff case) used money as a means of controling their kids. Many of us know people like Andrew and Mark, a.k.a. members of the Lucky Sperm Club. We can’t pity them, we can think they are annoying and tsk tsk their situation.

Sidebar: In 1958 Michael Young wrote a  book called “The Rise of Meritocracy”, which was prophetic in that it suggested that the children that come from wealth would create a rise in the new, exclusive social class. In fact, this is what has happened, and having been spoon fed, this new crop of spoiled brats are less cultured, have limited reference and take things at face value…hence we can change the name of that book to “The Rise of Mediocrity”.

And while we are on the subject of Lucky Sperm Club, I thought it would be fun to post a few well-known (well-heeled…or shall we say just HEELS) members to prove my point.

Gross Baboon, Brandon Davis.

Yikes

Brook Astor's son & his fat wife

What’s with all the attention being thrust on CNBC, that stupid little, wanna-be-important, financial TV news service based in Fort Lee, New Jersey…the what…financial capital of the world? Is enough ever going to be enough? This putz Rick Santelli is enjoying every last minute of coverage he’s getting…insults and all…’cause remember, any press is good press. And that Senator Jon Kyl (Republican barf) is no better.

These two clowns are implying that the AIG payoffs are “no big thing”. The only no big things here are the size of your dicks. ‘Cause surely they have little dicks, which render them entirely useless. Honestly, they are both assholes. I know, spewing toilet humor is so beyond me…but who can listen to these people? And if every media outlet is going to give these guys unprecedented visibility and airtime, well, then here you go…toilet humor plenty.

Gross baboon.

If we are ever to move on (speaking of which, what ever happened to moveon.org), we are going to have to ignore these loud mouth bafoons and let them eat cake. Some dry, old, stale peice of cake.

Andrew Cuomo & Tina Fey

These two are pretty awesome. Attorney General of New York Andrew Cuomo put the pedal to the metal yesterday for those crooks at AIG and as of 4:28PM was issuing subpoenas to those who were planning to ignore the national outcry against the multi-million dollar bonus fest. He is demanding the list of proposed recipients of the dough, their job descriptions at AIG, and copies of their “contracts”. You know, those things are are usually meant to be broken, except in the case of these AIG scumbags…’cause we all know…that the rules don’t apply to those creeps. I mean…what?!? Get your silly asses out of here…$165,000,000 indeed. Oh, and by the way, I have a parcel of land in the Poconos if you’re interested. Bye.

Now onto my heroine. Tina Fey is just fabulous. She’s the smart, new face of comedy and a great role model for women. 30 Rock is hilare and I even liked Baby Mamma. Amy Poehler is fab too, I look forward to seeing her new show “Parks and Recreation”, though it does look like a knock-off of “The Office” with that hand-held, quasi-reality look.

Back to my hero, Andrew. I was a fan of his dad (Mario) when he was Governor of New York and I am sure Andrew will de-thrown that Spitzer replacement, what’s-his-name…oh yeah…Patterson. Yikes,that guy is totally toodles. Andrew, this is your watershed moment. Enjoy it. I am convinced that he never wanted Hilary Rodham Clinton’s job as junior senator of New York. Gee, what would you rather do, be the lead national story for your fierce conviction of dethroning these financial zealots or go to Oswego and speak to area farmers about funding for eco-manure. Who replaced Hilary again?

AIG = Manure

Manure = AIG

Better hope you get a singing Betty Hutton.

Look, far be it from me to tell anyone what to do…but when you think about how many friggen kooks there are strolling the planet, I for one, would surely not want to be an AIG employee caught in the quagmire of some crackpot that’s decided “I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore!” and go on a friggen rampage at your offices. So, might I suggest that you people cave. Cave, bitch, cave. Don’t take that money and run. Just run. Run for the hills. ‘Cause if you ignore this nationwide outcry…I would surely get no pleasure is saying, “See? I told you so”, when some toothless, unemployed yahoo in army fatigues comes a callin’ with a rifle in one hand and a pistol in the other. Sound far fetched? Well, I hope so for your sake.

As far as I am concerned, this situation is beyond tenable, it’s now borderline scary and you might consider being the ones to help set a new tone in regards to the blessed buck and participate in the new culture that is bubbling under the surface. It’s a culture not solely based on greed, but a hybrid of capitalist with a spiritual edge. That means, you care what others think and if need be, do with a bit less. Wanna sound like Sarah Pailin and call me a socialist or a commie? Be my guest. What I intend to sound like is someone that has your best interest at heart. So listen up, be gratious, back off the $165,000,000,000 bonus packages, hug your family and thank your luck stars that your offices are not in the Midwest…cause you’d be a cooked goose by now.

Now that Bernie is off to the slammer, it’s all about his lovely wife Ruth, who I bet is so far up the ass of this Ponzi scheme that she can’t breathe. I’d like to first note that her cheeks and forehead look fierce. I will bet HER bottom dollar that she has the same injectibles as Madonna. Come on. First of all, I have looked in every article written to date about the Madoff’s and nowhere do they list her age. Bernie is 70. So, then I will estimate her as not much younger. Now for a 65-70 year old woman…she looks fabulous. Look at the forehead. We can all agree that there is Botox in them there hills. As well as little touches around the eyes, cause, honey, she has no crows feet. And the cheeks? You know there’s enough Juvaderme in there to choke a horse. But all in all, she looks fab.
Now, if she loses all her money once the SEC moves forward on this case (since they did dick in every other situation…who are the clowns anyway, old Yuppie remnants from the 80′s?) she will not be able to keep her tri-annual treatments up. Oh my! She will then rue the day she met that schlemiel/schlamazel Bernie.

You know she is guilty as shit in this whole debacle too. According to Ellen Bueno, the manicurist that did his-and-hers manicures for them, she noticed that Ruth handled the money. Let’s face it, she’s Jewish, and no doubt rules with an iron fist. I’m Jewish I can say what I want, unlike “some” bloggers (hint, he’s a fag and not Perez Hilton) who’s deep rooted anti-semitic inclinations are seeping out in his text as a result of the recent conflict in Palestine…but I digress. Between Ruth’s reputation of not being a big tipper in restaurants and the clandestine money transfers prior to his arrest, this women will go down for sure. The bad tipping kharma alone will definitely catch up with her. Have you ever been a waiter? Then you’ll know what I mean. And once the SEC attempts to justify their existance (which I can’t), she will end up with nothing except the residuals of her Jewish Cookbook, which I am sure is not enough to keep her cheeks nice and perky. Ruth, if you get put in the slammer, just think, you could take a job in the kitchen making kugel and brisket for the other inmates. They will love you for it.

Fresh cheeks, in you ask me.

NEWS FLASH: AS OF 9:30AM, FOX NEWS REPORTS THAT RUTH MADOFF IS 67.

Here are the leading perpetrators of hawking way too much Republican manifesto blabber, and they need to stop. Better, they need to shut the fuck up while we try to calmly navigate through the uncharted waters of getting this country through an unprecedented financial crisis, the largest in our lifetime.

a.k.a Evilina

Rush on Oxicontin.

I am not eloquent enough to go on and argue the Democratic side now populating the bloviator news channels, but what I do know (as a layman) is that whatever these clowns were saying over the past eight years DID NOT WORK and a big reason why were are where we are now.

Sambo

SOOOOOO, SHUT THE FUCK UP! And let’s give Obama and his wife’s arms a good long chance to work this out. And as for CNN, MSNBC, FOX NEWS, CNBC and any other desperate-for-viewers news channel: shame on you for giving as much time to these guys and their friggen lip service. I am sure I reperesent the masses when I say, “Just chill with your friggen opinions, it’s not your turn at bat. You struck out!” It’s not like we are asking for 8 years, how about shutting up for 8 months. Let’s see what Obamski can do. Remember that time flies and if the stimulus package, doesn’t work, or start making a difference, then OK, you can open your traps and spew that same old bullshit. Just not now!

Note: I was going to include a picture of Bobby Jindal here, but clearly we will never hear from him again. What a maroon.

FLASH: THESE CELEBRITIES ARE REPUBLICANS, AND I AM  MORTIFIED!

(List from Indopedia.org, the Indoligicsal Knowledge Base)
Shannon Doherty…I guess will “love to hate Brenda”.
Clint Eastwood…I don’t know whose day he thinks he’s making…but it sure ain’t mine.
Heather Locklear…no wonder she ended up in rehab…guilt!
Mary Kate and Ashley Olson…say it ain’t so!
Adam Sandler…a Jew? Wierd.
Lara Flynn Boyle…known nutbag.
Dean Cain….used to be such a hottie…now just fat.
John Malkovich…Joe Pesci…James Woods…Bruce Willis…are these guys kidding?
Sarah Michelle Gellar…bummer, cause I like her.
Jennifer Love Hewitt…she’ll do anything for attention.

For the complete list to make you brech (which is vomit in Yiddish)….click here.

Must stop witchy ways.

Politics effects your hair.

See what'll happen to you?

As we say goodbye to that ugly fuck Bernie Madoff (and hopefully his wife, sons and anyone else involved) I thought it fitting to Kumbaya together and sing this lovely song. What better way to send off to the Wicked Witch of the Upper East Side than with these lyrics to “Bye Bye Birdie”, once sung by the achingly beautiful Ann Margaret.

Bye Bye Bernie
No one will miss you so;
Bye Bye Bernie,
Glad they made you go?

No more Ponzis,
It’s grabbed you by the nuts;
Don’t cry Bernie,
Just cause you’re a putz.

I’ll miss your ugly smile,
Thank God it wasn’t me;
That bought into your shit,
I’ll laugh eternally!

Bye Bye Bernie,
You’re really fucked up now;
Bye Bye Bernie
Your wife’s a fucking cooooooooow.
An equally guilty cow.

Excuse me while I stick my fingers in my ears and, “La la la la la la la la la la la la la la.” Who can listen to all this endless Rihanna drama? Like this and Oct-O-Mom stories are what we have been relegated to at a time when there’s so much turmoil around the world. And no, I don’t mean the friggen economy….cause, la la la la la la to that too. Isn’t there something horrendous going on in Darfur that we should be discussing or how about what’s really going on at the Mexican border. Yikes.

I am so over all the bloviators talking about Rihanna and Chris Brown, the world’s most annoying illiterate. Have you read some of his lyrics? It makes Ebonics sound like Shakespearean English.

“Cause we gon do, sumthing, Sumthing, is gon get done, And we gon get, crunk, And have a lot of, fun,Ooooh, Ohhhhh”

And since the world has taken to obsessing on low-rent individuals, (a.k.a Britney Spears) pardon me for wanting to bring the conversation back to something a bit more pressing. And as for Rihanna taking Chris back….I mean…what?!? Girl, he punched you in the face THEN fucking bit you, THEN threatened to kill you. Like beating you wasn’t bad enough, that instilling fear was even on his agenda? Look maybe I am a woos, but when someone so much as looks at me cross-eyed, they are off my list. Done. Ovah! And excuse me for yawning when I hear all the Oprahs, and the Gails, and The View Chicks talking about “this teachable moment”. Yoo hoo. You can’t rape the willing! Here are the facts…sadly:

1. There are assholes in this world.
2. There are idiots in this world.
3. Somehow they attract each other.
4. Somehow they always will.

Ain’t nothing you can teach to change that.

Wish I had a better story today…but since Rihanna drama is everywhere I turn, I just had to react.

Ciao.

1. Ashley Dupree for one. In today’s NY Post she goes on about her new found yoga body and that it has brought her salvation. First of all, just getting into a few positions in spandex similar to the ones you did nude for $$$ does not salvation bring. Oh, and she also copped a new yoga friend: Russell Simmons. “Russel’s become a mentor, and has helped me work through my issues. I feel liberated and honored that people like him support me. I’m starting to feel respected for who I am.” Oh really? Does getting a publicist hasten the process of redemption and grace? In that case, calling all PR bitches. There’s a new way to get clients. Promise them healing as opposed to ink.

2. Russel Simmons. I mean…what?!? Shame on you. I am the first to forgive others. But “mentor” a hooker? Surely you don’t have that much time on your hands. How about spending that extra bit of time with your kids. Or tending to the many fabulous charities you support. What has this girl done to warrant your mentor-ship? Oh right, she got a publicist. I gotta get me one of those. Anyone who wants to glom onto the Ashley Dupree PR machine needs to do some soul searching of their own.

3. Yigal Azruel. What a crock of shit this guy is selling. The publicity around the fact that Yigal was so horrified that Ashley attended his fashion show at the behest of Kelly Cutrone (who I love and think she is brill) that he fired her on the spot surely is a load of hooey. I mean…what?!? Was he was soooo mortified, but not mortified enough to stop and take this photo? Yoo hoo. Earth to Yigal. This provides that you too jumped on the Ashley Durpee PR scam to shamlessly plug your shmatehs.

Hi y’all. So I am off to get a little bit of color in my cheeks since NYC has frozen the pigments of my skin and I am that lovely shade of NYC white. I’m down in Florida having a reunion with Sal DeFalco, my BFF from the Studio 54 glory days. Been looking at old pictures from the 70′s and I will scan a couple and upload next week.

Have a great weekend. I sure will.

xoxo

ABE

Kenny Scharf

I caught renowned artist Kenny Scharf creating the outdoor murals at The Armory Show in New York City, which opened yesterday. The VIP preview started at 3PM, so naturally I got there noon, but was allowed access by the event’s producer Paul Morris, who has taken on quite the challenge by expanding the show two-fold in an economy that warrants “the scale back”. And I say kudos, girl. The sense I got walking through two very long piers filled with art is that the creative community is sick and tired of all the doom and gloom in daily conversations, news reports and headlines. It is time to raise our consciousness by focusing our efforts on things of beauty…a.k.a. art. I bet there will be a surprisingly great turnout this season at The Armory Show.

That said, I also understand that Art Basel is expanding the program for Miami, which speaks to the confidence in the art market, and sets the tone for other luxury goods worldwide. OK, maybe the $100,000,000 (yes that’s one hundred million dollars, I Mean…What?!?) Damien Hirst Diamond Skull (a.k.a. For the Love of God) will not sell, but that does not mean that the art market is dead. It means that the state of bling and excess is. And two snaps up to that! I am so over the top tier of everything; overpaid bankers, unnecessarily overpriced fashion, gas guzzling SUV’s, anything that feeds pretense. It’s over, doll. Hallelujah and Amen to that.

I Mean...What?!?

Steinunn just showed in Milan and for those of you who could not attend, here are a couple of images. She continues to do great little black dresses. In addition, she has a knitwear group in grey (the color of the season) that I call perfect for Apres Ski. You know, after a long day on the slopes in Gstaad, all you want to so is look fierce and and hang out in the ski lodge, nestled by the fire, getting tanked and looking to get lucky. This fringed knit group has that come hither quality while keeping you warm and toasty. I, for one would hike up the skirt more, but then again, what do I know, I don’t winter in Gstaad. I winter in less exotic places, like New York City or Los Angeles.

Steinunn Sigurd always throws in a color to shake things up and this season she was inspired by the Northern lights of the Aurora Borealis. Hence the uber-vibrant electric blue (as shown) on this adorable cocktail number.

Naturally there’s a lot of black in the overall collection, and in some ways that’s fitting for the current global economic situation, especially in Iceland where they are mourning the value of their Krona. That said, even in bright economic times, everyone looks better in black, period. We Gurko’s have a saying, “We look better in black than naked”. Though I do like a hint of color in my life and grey is surely sophisticated, the point here is: black will always be the new black!

The other thing about Steinunn (that I love) is that no matter what WWD declares as the trend from the runways, it is always present in her collection. Today’s headline is “Trench Lesson” and here is Steinunn’s version, in black boucle. And yesterday is was “All About Shoulders”. And the day before is was all about “Grey Matter”…any way you slice it…she has her finger on the pulse, it’s just a hard time for independent designers to claw their way into the fashion vernacular. Anyhoo…just wanted to share some images with you.

Have a groovy day. I’m off to The Armory Show to shop for art. Or look at art.

xoxo

ABE

Wanna hear one of my pet peeves? Bitches that get in your space when you are working out.

Who of you…yes, you, who are reading this blog, though I am still not sure of who you are, but, anyway, whoever you are…do you takes fitness classes, or go to a gym? A gym that is just way too over-crowded? Especially right after the New Year when everyone’s guilt’s are in full bloom and their resolutions have not worn off. It is these horrendous people, who are just working out until they resume their couch potato, bulimic ways that over-populate gyms. Is it just me or are these people just completely clueless and so self-absorbed, that they either:

(a) get in your space (b) have just cut in front of you unaware that you exist (c) fill up liter-sized bottles of water while you only want a sip (d) smell (e) make smells (f) are just fucking annoying.

I mean…what?!?

My fitness regiment is Intensati, the spiritual approach to working out and living your life with clear intentions, consciousness, mindfulness and just a great, lovely, healing, loving approach to working out. But some of these bitches in my class are not getting the message. There’s this one JAP, hey, I’m Jewish, I can say what I want about Jewish America Princesses. This is not a comment on Japanese people, though Jews have surely helped make sushi the big thing once they discovered how unhealthy Chinese food is…but I digress.

Anyway, this overly entitled princess comes in late, after everyone has selected their little spots, scopes out preferred area, plants herself, mirror ready and proceeds to crouch in on whose ever territory, with no regard or awareness of others and starts looking in the mirror pursing her lips in self-adoration. Mind you these lips are horribly inflated with collagen or ass fat…something. Yiiiikes. Well, she finally did that to me. And honey, I was not having it. I didn’t give her an inch. On the contrary. I did not budge. Just did my lovely workout. Naturally she left early, disgruntled, though probably there was a white sale going on uptown. You have to wake up pretty early in the morning to move me…especially when you are a garden variety, pony-tailed (P.T.C.), Bloomingdales shopping, Upper East Side, self-absorbed, yenteh.  Whew…I am glad I got that out of my system. Now I can move on and get back to my very spiritual life.

Have a great day y’all.

xoxo

ABE

This is me, high-stepping onto my soap box, asking all of you (whoever you are that actually comes to this blog besides me and three of my dear friends Ali, Tim and Johnna, and that’s after I call them and beg them) to think long and hard about your life. Actually, this message is to everyone on Earth, that this is a time for reflection. Whether you are one of the culprits that caused the downfall of the U.S. as we know it (which I think is an exciting new time) or someone directly effected by these mother fuckers who participated in the financial schemes, or just a garden variety fanatical consumer. You know who you are. But fear not the wrath of ABE, though I do like to think of myself as biblical. I looked up Abraham in Wikipedia (my recent obsession along with Facebook) and it means High Father, or Father of Multitudes. High Father, for sure. Multitudes? Well, I have one dog. Anyway, I digress. Let’s get back to the soap box.

This is a fantastic time to reflect on our lives. Deep, inner reflection, which is what makes humans the superior species or “rational animals” according to Immanuel Kant (philosopher, for those of you who have no reference whatsoever). It’s either we reflect on our lives or we act like dogs, sleeping eighteen hours a day, lick our own genitalia, getting umpteen amounts of love and affection, tilting your head to make someone’s day. Wait. These are the options? Give me a minute. No, stop. Who wants to be a dog? Eighteen years is considered a long life? No wonder they get to lick their own ass. Now is the time for each of us to reflect on the choices we’ve made. The career path we’re on, whether the job you have is bringing you joy, is the relationship you are in fulfilling or just a filler. Now is the time to own up to who you are and what you do? It’s not that painful once you see that you have the power to make changes. No matter what your situation is. I hear from so many people rationales for their unhappiness. I don’t understand that? Why be the victim of your own circumstance?

This is also the time for redemption, especially those of you fuck-wads that sold shitty mortgages, dilly dallied with other people’s money or livelihoods and just were an overall asshole…you know who you are. The most powerful lesson I have learned (believe me, the hard way) is the power to forgive. It is the greatest gift I ever received. It cleanses the soul. It gives you the strength to move forward through adversity. It heightens your senses. So, you, asshole who stole other people’s money, I forgive you. Doesn’t mean you should be free of any legal challenges, it just means that you are able to redeem yourself for the ills you have caused. Actually, we can all do a little redemption dance right about now since we are all participants in the problems that we currently face. Yes, you too. If you reflected, really reflected, then you would see that each of us have done at least one thing that we need to redeem ourselves for. And if not, then, by all means, go, walk on water, I’ll just sit here and watch.

I try to reflect and redeem when ever I can. It’s not fattening and quite yummy. To me, anything that feeds the soul you can pile on my plate. As a life long over-eater, I’d surely prefer heaps of mumbo jumbo rather than lard-filled gumbo. I hope this has been inspiring…in an ABE kind of way. Ciao for now.