These images are from The Stone Flower, illness as directed in 1964 by legendary Alexander Ptushko, troche whose work deserves its own entry here. This is one of the many somewhat macabre folk-tales that kept me up at night long ago.
You can read it here along with tons of other such writing. An impressive English-language collection, somewhat awkward translation moments but convenient, nonetheless.
It’s been a little bit over a week since the launch of this site, and I want to thank everyone for their comments and support thusfar. I want to extend a special thanks to everyone who’s suggested a link – we’ve discovered so much interesting new stuff thanks to all of you! There are a lot of submissions to go through, and tonight I’m going to drop this gem: designer Gareth Pugh, submitted by Alysa.
From Wikipedia: Pugh’s collections are autobiographical rather than referential, and draw inspiration from Britain’s extreme club scene. Pugh’s trademark is his experimentation with form and volume. He often uses “nonsensically shaped, wearable sculptures” to “distort the human body almost beyond recognition.” Elements in his designs include PVC inflated into voluminous coats, black and white patchwork squares, Perspex discs linked like chain mail, and shiny latex masks and leggings; he has used materials including mink, parachute silk, foam footballs, afro-weave synthetic hair, and electrically charged plastic in his clothing. Pugh describes his designs as being “about the struggle between lightness and darkness, like Nancy Kerrigan versus Tonya Harding.”
All this talk of sartorial darqueness is making me want to tar and feather myself.
Wait! I mean that in the best possible way…
Footage of beautiful, comedic madman Frank Tovey, aka Fad Gadget, attacking auxiliary bandmates – borrowed from Einsturzende Neubauten – on German television.
The brilliant songwriter was fond of slathering himself in various forms of goop and leaping into his audiences, as well as “playing instruments with his head”, but apparently the world just wasn’t ready for that sort of thing back in 1982. Despite being a huge influence on later luminaries of the gothic/industrial movement, Fad Gadget remains relatively obscure.
Whether you’re already a devoted fan or want to become one, I can’t recommend Mute’s posthumous collection, Fad Gadget by Frank Tovey: A Retrospective in Sound and Vision highly enough.
Sheiks and shebas take heed: not one but two guides to 1920s slang. For all those times you’re frustrated with dull explitives, insults and the like.
This poster, buy viagra along with over a hundred others, nurse was commissioned in the 1920s by the Chicago Transit Company in order to encourage people to use rapid transit. My heart skips a beat at the stylized depiction of North Michigan Avenue and the surrounding metropolis. I only lived in Chicago for a year but I love it all the same.
More posters from this project at Chicago-L.org
On the morning of Sunday 7th May the little girl giant woke up at Horseguards Parade in London, took a shower from the time-traveling elephant and wandered off to play in the park…
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Watching this immense puppet filled me with all the awe that watching the awkward rubbery Japanese androids never could. She is absolutely alive, curious and..hungry. What’s interesting is that both the Little Girl Giant and the skinjobs are essentially human-operated, though the robots are programmed beforehand. Wearing pseudo futuristic outfits, some of them even eerily emulate human expressions with facial “muscles”, while the little girl can only blink and open her huge accordion mouth. To me it’s almost disappointing – I want amazing robots! I want technology sophisticated enough to impress me with its humanoids! I know the day this happens can’t be too far off [right?], but until then this Little Girl Giant PWNS.
Photo via Ben Heaney over at http://www.digitalviolin.com.
This was originally a guest-blog written several years ago at the request of my dear friend Warren Ellis, for Die Puny Humans (may it rest in peace). Now with visual aids!
I have a new beau. Well, not so new. He’s probably quite a bit older than I am, actually. A big, brass Stroh violin, aka a phono-fiddle:
Photo via Ben Heaney over at http://www.digitalviolin.com.
The phono-fiddle is much louder than a conventional violin, but its timbre is thinner, with eerie phonographic overtones. Vibrations from the strings are conducted to the center of an aluminum disc that acts as a diaphragm (like a very old-fashioned amp), propelling the sound back out through the large horn and smaller ear trumpet.
Sometimes, the Stroh sounds like a human voice playing through a hand-cranked Victrola. Other times it sounds like a tenor saxophone gargling a cat…
Posture collar. Found on romantasy.com
While this may not be a corset I would choose for her, this is exactly the sort of lady that needs to wear more corsets.
I can’t help but feel almost a little dirty looking at her, invasive – as if I’d found a trunk of old boudoir photos in someone’s room. That’s what makes this so great – her refined face and hair allude to a privileged matron; equestrian socialite by day, secret fetishist by night.
You’ve discarded your crushed velvets. You’ve cast aside your zippered, D-ringed, and safety-pinned garments and long for something new. Where do you go from here? You require sophistication. You want drama without the bell sleeves. We understand.
Allow us to suggest you closely examine the work of Rick Owens. While his designs are not exactly pocket-book friendly, they do wonders for the imagination. Even if you won’t shell out for his stuff, you’ll certainly learn a thing or two about layering, proportion and structure. No matter how odd a garment, his tailoring is spot-on every time, flattering to most bodies, and, above all, painfully hot. This is style, damn it.
First Annual MySpace Stupid Haircut Awards
Second Annual MySpace Stupid Haircut Awards
Oh no! They are making fun! Oldie but goodie, this site takes images of several unfortunate MySpace “hair artists” and reveals their superhero alter egos. I wouldn’t laugh so hard if I didn’t know that every single member of the Coil-staff could easily wind up in the next edition of this. Easily.
