Is it just me, or do you think this is a fashion crime committed in broad daylight on the airport tarmac? How can the First Lady of Mexico greet the pope in a matching outfit? I am thrilled that she won’t cede all the spotlight to the creepy guy with the gold cross.
Demure, feminine, and yet not unlike wearing a white lace gown to a wedding where you are not the bride.
This trailer for Al Pacino’s new documentary about Oscar Wilde confuses me. Is the movie about Wilde or Al’s manic anxiety? Why does Al look like that? Why does he think pointing at a building’s historic marker is doing research? Please let me know if you see this train wreck!
Identical black suit and leather briefcase uniforms, matching poufy hair, and all eating curry hot dogs. I am childish and find this scene sublime. Plus, they ate the last curry dogs. I wanted one, too, but could only enjoy it through watching them.
First there was the suing, alleging, and counter-suing between Las Vegas’ tycoon Steve Wynn and Japanese pachinko billionaire Okada Kazuo. Now Newt Gingrich’s #1 casino patron ($10 million in donations) Shel Adelson is feuding with former Taiwanese partners. Somehow the money all leads to Macau. Lost in the news is what an epic comb-over Shel sports.
In a story about over-crowding in Latin American prisons, the New York Times also serves up image after image of attractive men and their extravagant tattoos. Does this reinforce the call for sympathy?
Well, hello, Ebizu! I thought the kabuki star was disgraced, and then I find him giving me this come-hither look outside the new(ish) palce of posh menswear, Hankyu Men in Yurakucho. Decent coffee downstairs at the Monocle Cafe brought me there twice in one week.
I love how Pipo-kun, the police’s giant orange mascot with big ears and a blue hat, simply waits for the light to change amidst the weekend shoppers in Shinjuku san chome. In the photo, it looks like no one’s paying him much attention. In fact, I saw many Japanese and foreigners excitedly posing with Pipo-kun. Below you can see his “handler,” who guided him along this public appearance.
Photographer Stan Stearns is dead at 76. John John and daddy are perpetually at the moment of parting. Counting the photographer and Saint Jackie, that’s 4 dead people united in our era’s greatest homage to death.