Dancing Queen

American Ballet Theater's prima ballerina, Nina Ananiashvili, brought down the Metropolitan Opera House for her final performance, in Swan Lake, on Saturday.

Better never.

It is now I see and feel that calling once again,
to be a part of music that will not just connect,
but make all feel one- one in joy, one in pain, one in love.
one in service and in consciousness. ---Michael Joseph Jackson

it is usually said that it's better late than never, but if ever there was a time to disprove everything we think we know... this is it. truthfully I woulda preferred to never have had to write this, late or otherwise. but alas we are here. took a while because i put myself in exile for 20 days and 20 nights and because for a woman who has never stopped talking- i had nothing appropriate enough to say.

in a conversation with mr. crawford last night, he said, 'hate is the new love.' a phrase i been using but never really heard it explained the way he did. he said, in the days of Michael, Whitney, etc... it was always about love. I need love. I want love. I will always love you. they were driven by it. and now, music, musicians are fueled by hate. You can hate me now. To all the hataz. I do it for the hataz. we are defined by how many people hate us, rather than by how many loved us. so that is why i build my itunes backwards.

5 days ago though, we loved like we did in the 80s. three generations remembered the time when we first met- LOVE. my six year old niece asked about smooth criminal- my favorite MJ video. we remembered my brother's MJ dancing party service-- they did a routine at my sister's sweet 16 and everyone else's parties, talent shows, etc. My father said he couldn't sleep after finding out. And me? In the middle of the dance floor at cafe iguanas... i took his advice. laid my 9-5 on the shelf... and LIVED. thought it started raining, but it was just my tears.

if ever we forget to be grateful for today, may his legacy always remind us:
life ain't so bad at all.

Soldier on.

Janet put on a brave face to thank her family's supporters Sunday night at the BET Awards in Los Angeles. And not that it's any real consolation, but she looked 198423 kinds of righteous with that Diana hair and all those swaths of cream.

fat shout to bangladesh and puerto rico!

i met her 7 yrs ago when i was 16.
she put me on to kelis.
inspired me to get tested for the first time.
took me to my first indian restaurant.
taught me what it meant to be selflessly dedicated to educating our children.
and made me fall in love with her every step of the way.

meet mo morales.
the most righteous bengali bride you've seen thus far.

i love when people come over

fam, sus', jen.

Often imitated, Never duplicated

"And when you bury me underneath all your pain,
I'm steady laughin (ha!) while surfacing."
-Unbreakable

THIS is a distinct moment in our collective consciousness. It is one of those times when you can just sort of feel that so many people are thinking and feeling the same thing that you are. In New York, certainly, there's a communal sense of shock and sadness and confusion, and of course, the jubilation that comes from hearing "Wanna Be Startin' Something" blasting from the hooptie rolling down Clinton Street, or the chills that come inevitably from hearing Mike "turn up the collar on [his] favorite winter coat." For our generation, I don't think there is any music as universal, as transcendant. Or any figure so fascinating. Last night I started to cry a few times, but instead I danced. To "You Rock My World" and to "Baby Be Mine" and "The Way You Make Me Feel" and "Black or White." I wore white socks with my loafers, and popped the collar on my favorite jean jacket.

Michael is eternal, and we can never really lose him. He's more with us now than he could ever really manage to be when he was alive. He was scared of us, because we made him and broke him, but now he's a part of us all, and I think he would like that. It is fitting that "Man in the Mirror" is one of his indelible classics, because Michael is not only the Man in the Mirror, he Is the mirror. He is a uniquely American figure. He is wholly a product of the best and worst in American culture. We propped him up to tear him down. We delighted in the blackness of his art while telling him his nose should be narrower, his skin lighter - and then we laughed as he tried to accommodate our oppressive values. We took away his childhood and hated him for trying to reclaim it in adulthood. We shunned his eccentricity while dancing to the art that came out of it. We mocked his extravagance and reviled his charity. Richard Kim from the Nation says, "he personified our culture's most central ambitions to whiteness, immortality, wealth, real estate and fame. Lodged somewhere between the superhuman and the alien, aspiration and disgust, Jackson was a grotesque reflection of our collective desires." He was us, and we loved and hated him as much as we love and hate ourselves.

He was, I think, the most spectacular talent on the planet. That kind of art never comes easy. But this is America, and we like the magic that comes out of suffering.

dont be the next contestant on that summer jam screen

the little boy i watched throwing pebbles into the empty fountain, he wasn't too old to climb trees. you could tell he had too much wisdom for his age. probably he believed that he wasn't made for this world. i wanted to say to him: if not you, then who?
(the history of love)
everybody knew jay-z owned hot 97's summer jam. it was never announced beforehand that he'd show up like clockwork at the very last minute, giving the crowd conniption fits and seizures, but we all expected it. ok, destiny's child. very good, outkast. nice to see you, lil kim. but we were all here for jay, really.

the minute we heard jay's resoundingly familiar "uh huh uh" from backstage, people began to wild the fuck out. thousands of us came from everywhere to see the concert, but in that moment, we were all from brooklyn.

but jay wanted how to fuck wit' us. in the middle of "H to the IZZO" he stopped the music and proclaimed, "yo, i got Michael Jackson in the back. y'all want me to bring him out?" as millions of "nigga pleases" echoed throughout the arena, jay laughed at our faithlessness in him. his back and forth with the crowd went on for a good 3 minutes, as we became increasingly sure that he was just pulling our legs.

"word? y'all don't believe me? lemme go get 'em"

and he left the stage.

i don't know when the first scream happened. i'm pretty sure i may have blacked out. but the minute michael stepped out on that summer jam stage, so cooly and unaffectedly-- niggas lost their damn minds. it was like jay-z hadn't even existed minutes prior, as the fickle concert goers put down their weed, dropped their hennys and coke, and grown ass men got up on their chairs and damn near CRIED.

he didn't even have to open his mouth. michael stood there, basking in his majesty, receiving his praise. and as if he just wanted someone to pass out from overstimulation, he took jay's mic and said "i love you, too."

party. fucking. done.

i looked around and saw dudes who, minutes ago, were the coolest cats in the stadium, rappin' every jay lyric as hard a possible in between pulls from their blunts--real deal ass THUGS--turn into 12-yr-old boys who moonwalked in front of their TVs while their moms screamed from the kitchen "turn that off and finish your homework!" i think someone may have caught the holy ghost. it was completely unreal.

we lauded and applauded for what seemed like hours, and altho jay had only got thru abt a quarter of his set, i know we all cldve went home happy right then and there.

he left and jay just stood there lookin at us with a smirk. laughin'.

it was the best "i told you so" i've heard in my whole life.

MICHAEL

Living city

The Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science & Art
New York, NY
Designed by Thom Mayne and Gruzen Samton

On the Lam

Guess ya missed the Friends & Fam, but still some great deals to be had.

for j

what i'm on

The real meaning of 'righteous'

For the past decade or so, Khadijah Williams has been homeless in Los Angeles. This fall, she'll be a freshman at Harvard University. I hope that, were I ever faced with such circumstances, I might have half the righteous dignity or unbeatable drive that she does.

Read her story.

La Nouvelle Fille

Andre's beloved Mme. Toryn has been seriously stepping up her blog game as of late and now features some killer street-style shots a la our girl Garance.

Check her out, you may just find a familiar face.

Back like cooked crack

She's comin, babygirls.

She walk like this

Vogue Nippon's Anna Dello Russo slayed some Lanvin in Milan for Men's Fashion Week

CUZ SHE CAN BACK IT UP

via Jak and Jil

styles p at the roots

one of the best things that happened that night. the other was jco's big ass hair creepin' up on me.

highline.
6.16.09.

uptown girls

skinny (me)fat

meet keke.

she righteous. check her

Happy Friday!

Effortless Chic.

This is an outfit that says: "I'm ludicrously wealthy and the most obsessed-over, famous, unconditionally lovable popstar on the planet, so I'm just going to go ahead and wear a hideous brown velour jumpsuit with even worse gold embroidery and a bright pink plastic purse, and y'all can go fuck y'allselves."

WWW: A True Woman of Leisure

As you can see, this luscious ginger, Kathleen Margaret Riordan, puts the White into White Woman of the Week. Above she sits in the Dutch sun, no doubt slathered in SPF2000, while Maddox munches on Doritos and Haribo Peaches in the background. I crown her WWW not just because she spontaneously decided to take the bus (the bus!) up to NYC tonight so we can cry into a large glass of chilled Tanqueray together, but also because I can hardly get through the day without our minutiae-filled Gchat conversations (I just had a Venti Starbucks with a splash of half-n-half, btw), and also because junior year she introduced me to vodka-rocks because the tonic was just getting in the way, and also because we once spent an amazing week together trotting and drinking and smoking and eating from Madrid to London to Amsterdam and never even really hated each other, and also because one time freshman year after a session with the Bukket while Murr was pulling the gib on a hallucinatory sailboat she said "Ok, Murr, we're gonna have to like go be in public now, so get out of your imaginary sailboat...", and also because there once was a time when I consumed so many plastic handles of $14 Burnett's vodka with her that I felt compelled to include the photo of Georgetown's famed Towne Liquor in this post. In short, she righteous. Whatelse?

Life with Andre

via The Selby

Ooh, baby, do you know what that's worth?

Ooh, Heaven is a place on Earth.

Economy Candy
108 Rivington Street
New York, NY

Father's Day is this Sunday.

Oh, ya know, North Korea's about to nuke us, Iran is wildin', unemployment is thru the roof, and today I told someone from Save the Children that "No, not really," I don't have a minute as I was on my way to Starbucks... but every once in a while, you'll see a cute father on the LES walking his adorable, self-dressed daughter down the street, carrying her purse and holding her hand.

I miss her already

"To be perfectly honest, I wasn't on the other end of that call."

[on Spencer's apology]

ehhh, whatev

i don't know, this kind of annoys me, and i want to tell zac that this ain't sophomore year on facebook anymore, and also i'm feeling quite unmotivated blog-wise, but 'vieve's skin looks immaculate here, so that's something. anything!

Legend

THIS bitch! Superstar. Still looks ravishing. Y'all seen Witches?!

via Purple Diary

annoying, adorable

eternal sunshine

' slow day, its lazy thursday i guess. I felt like there were a bunch of things to do at home course I only did 1 n a half of them. Oh I met with my first doula today. Very interesting! They are women who are skilled in the act of birthing. I'm trying to go natural. Which is

Right so I just dropped my phone and battery fell out, annoying anyway. Yeah so tryna do natural birth thing not cause I'm apposed to drugs

Actually quite the contrary I won't even say how contrary (past) but I feel like in light of all that's happened in my life past few months I would feel like I could conquer the world after that. (Which is part of the plan) :) seriously idunno we will see what happens '

-Kelis via Twitter

I can only ascribe.

This is Maylis, a little Parisian babygirl who thinks you're a loser.

Outrageous

Sarah Palin called David Letterman “pathetic” Tuesday after the CBS “Late Show” host said the Alaska Republican governor sports a “slutty flight attendant look.”

“What a commentary there,” Palin said of the comment during an interview on conservative host John Ziegler’s Los Angeles-based radio show. “That’s pretty pathetic, good ole David Letterman.”

Sexism is sexism is unacceptable, no matter at whom its directed. I'm standin' with the Gov. on this one.

senza sforzo

the effortless chic franca sozzani, EIC of vogue italia, in venice this week.

[i'm pretty sure my (free)translation isn't quite on the money]

michelle in rick owens

my life is either over or complete.

between two ferns.

Between Two Ferns with Zach Galifianakis from Between Two Ferns

see the more of this fool in the hangover or at funnyordie.com

oh, bitch.

sarti, duh.

what she said:

It’s not that I don’t think Beyonce has inner drama. Everyone does. Everyone has doubt and failings and pain. My argument is that Beyonce does not want you to know of this drama, any real drama, that is. She’s closely guarded with an even more tightly guarded image. She is more about being the fantasy of what she thinks you want her to be (cue “Sasha Fierce!”) rather than revealing anything of character….

A true artist brings the pain.

I don’t have to convince you that original Fugee’s member, musical genius and lost child, Lauryn Hill has issues. We all know, homegirl has issues. But often, when I wanted to think of a modern song, like Etta James’ classic “I’d Rather Go Blind” or Issac Hayes’ cover of “Walk On By” that makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry, I think of Hill’s “Ex-Factor.”…

Hell, you don’t even have to be a woman to cry during Ex-Factor. Just be from the land of broken toys. Be the neglected. Be the rejected. Once you get to the end where Hill pleads, “you said you’d be there for me” over and over she could be singing Pslams for all I know, wondering where is God and why He abandoned her. That’s how universal, yet specific, her vocal pain is.

And what does Knowles have? “If I Were A Boy?” a song, I HATE WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING. It’s a nice enough song. But it’s not particularly deep or painful. It basically entails that if Knowles were a man all she’d do is drink and hang out with guys without question….

-the black snob

talk about hitting the nail on the head. see you in europe lauryn!

im just regular black

this here never gets old.

this either.

i better see a central park paddle boat or SOMETHING

'cause this shit is just rude.

D.O.A.

this whole week my friends have been talking about how they don't wanna eat. they ain't hungry. they've lost their appetites. shieet. if you know anything abt me, you know i'll go without sleep. without a bath. without sunlight for days. but i'm eating, that's for sure.

i knew how it felt tho, this strong opposition to consumption. months ago. lives ago, even. i didn't want to eat either. the lump in my throat, which i knew was my heart just sitting there, waiting to be thrown up, wldnt let anything pass. it didnt want to be in my chest. caged behind my ribs. my heart wanted to be free. and it made me promise that i'd never trap it like that ever again. never lock it in a room with no light, as it was scared of the dark. my heart knew my hunger and said, "lock me up again, and you won't eat." so i took heed. set the shit free. promised to never look back. fuck that. i like to eat.

so,

this morning,

i was baffled to find myself scraping cold, uneaten eggs and bacon into the same garbage bag as dead lilies and roses.

and when you get to the last page of the book

you're usually in a public place, not the place you imagined you'd be upon reaching the final leg of the task that took you years to complete. you're on the train underground. not a friend in sight. no way to call or text anyone. no stranger's eyes with which to connect and share a knowing look. it's just you and that page--nothing before it or after. and the feeling of completion that is usually accompanied by some sort of congratulations, some announcement, some ceremony, is left in your hands. it's not a moment of clarity. this book has been a huge puzzle right until the end. im sure i've missed the countless lessons, ironies, plays on words. but i'm done.

i cried on the page before the last. hoping my eyes wld well up just enough to be enough, and not to spill over onto my cheeks. ppl are looking.

on the last page, though, the tears retreated back to their ducts. those final words sent them home. told them to get a grip. you ain't really understand the book anyway. what u cryin' for?

THE DEATH OF LEOPOLD GURSKY

leopold gursky started dying on august 18, 1920.
he died learning to walk.
he died standing at the blackboard.
and once, also, carrying a heavy tray.
he died practicing a new way to sign his name.
opening a window.
washing his genitals in the bath.

he died alone, because he was too embarrassed to phone anyone.
or he died thinking abt alma.
or when he chose not to.

really, there isn't much to say.
he was a great writer.
he fell in love.
it was his life.

with those words, i was done.

blaaaaaaaaake!

new jersey set to legalize marijuana

if that ain't enough to get ur ass back here, then i just throw in the towel!

Just the essentials!

how twitter changed my life:

lord knows i've had my share of celebrity crushes. but none (and i mean none) tops my love for chad javon ocho cinco. so today i followed him on twitter and a lil while later.... he tweeted back!

yea I professed my love, i'm not ashamed! you too could follow theneweleven :)

I see you lookin'

Witcha lookin' ass

Oh Harlem...

why you keep doing this to me??

Juelz in Honey Mag:

How many relationships have you not cheated in?
None. I got a lady friend now that I don’t be cheating on sometimes. I don’t mean that it’s a constant thing. I’m just being honest.

I know.
Yeah, I’ve cheated in the relationship, but that could have been one time, that doesn’t mean I cheated constantly in the relationship. I’m in a situation that I did f*ck up before, but I’m not constantly f*cking up.

What are your favorite sex tricks?
Nah, niggas gonna be stealing my sh*t. I just like when a girl be licking me. I’m just a freak. Closed doors, anything goes.

Anything?
No not anything. Anything besides foul play. I’ll let a girl lick my ass though.

How long have you gone without getting any?
I got a lady friend waiting.

Barefoot babygirls

Two of the most powerful people in the world, President Obama and his Secretary of State, Hillary Rodham Clinton, toured the Sultan Hassan Mosque in Cairo yesterday. Per custom, they both removed their shoes, and Clinton donned a headscarf.

via Madam Secretary

Why I pay 75% of my income in rent to live here

Reason # 43/1,042

a new look

carmen solomons, via TI

You're a lucky man, Mr. Parker

Babygirls in Calvin

Boogie's Creative Director, Stephen Gan, with TB


Arlenis Sosa


Rose Cordero

Calvin Klein hosted an all-white party for Visionaire at the Standard Hotel the other night, and some of our favorite BGs were looking mighty righteous in Calvin Klein Collection - how hard is Tyra murdering that architectural number?!

photos via style.com, needless to say

still on love: excerpts

"'mom?' i said. she turned. 'can i talk to you abt something?'
'of course, darling. come here.'
i took a few steps into the room. there was so much i wanted to say.
'i need you to be--' i said, and then i started to cry.
'be what?' she said, opening her arms.
'not sad,' i said.'"

_____________________________
one thgt i have is it's very expensive to take a plane to israel. i know this because i tried to buy a ticket at the airport and they said it was 1200 dollars. when i told the woman that one time my mom bought a ticket for 700 dollars, she said there were no tickets for 700 dollars anymore. i thgt maybe she was just saying that because she thgt i didn't have the money, so i took out the shoebox and showed her the 741 dollars and fifty cents. she asked me where i got so much money, so i told her 1500 cups of lemon-aid, even though it wasn't totally true. then she asked me why i wanted to go to israel so much and i asked her if she cld keep a secret and she said yes and i told her i was a lamed vovnik and also maybe the Messiah. when she heard this she took me to a special room that is only for employees and gave me an El Al pin. then the police came and took me home. the way i felt abt this was angry.

______________________________
how is anyone supposed to be a lamed vovnik if first it costs 700 dollars to get to israel and then they change it to 1200 dollars? they shld keep the price the same so that people will know how much lemon-aid they have to sell if they want to go to jerusalem.

i'm still reading the history of love. bear with me.

A date with the wife

You've probably all heard about Michelle and B's adorable datenight in NYC last weekend, where they dined at West Village restaurant Blue Hill and attended the August Wilson play "Joe Turner's Come and Gone."

But some A-list couples among us are just sliiiightly more discreet with their romantic dates, so you probably don't know that I took Boogie to a very late Saturday brunch 2 weeks ago at SoHo Mexican hotspot Dos Caminos. She had the Mexican Cobb Salad, and I the Chilaquiles - and for you recessionistas out there, lunch comes with a free margarita!



Fortunately, we probably laughed off at least half the calories in this indulgent, deliciosa love fest.

(Young, B) Cruisin' down the Westside... Highway

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blake, this is called a rave. part deux.

somewhere underneath London Bridge ...

and no one even knows we are here ...

the morning after ...