Too Much To Handle: Inside

I am highly desensitized towards horror films. I have always loved being scared, ALWAYS. I used to read The Berenstein Bears and the Spooky Tree at least once a week. My childhood bookshelf was full of the Goosebumps series, all of the Scary Stories collections and the like. As I've grown older, this love of safe fear and terror has only grown, and become more visual.

In college, as a film minor, I took classes on Vampires in Literature and Film, as well as a seminar on Horror and Sci-Fi Film. I gave speeches on George Romero, wrote papers on female survivors in zombie films, and also analyzed the work of French horror director Alexandre Aja. Thus began my love of French horror film.

Anyone who has seen Haute Tension knows how gory, horrifying, and generally fucked up it is. Well, let me tell you, if you don't follow European and French horror film, this is nothing. A short while ago I watched Frontiers, one of the Afterdark Horrorfest Films, and hands down the most disturbing film I had seen to date. The entire time my jaw was on the floor, and although it made me a bit sick, I felt the need to see just how far the French would go.

I turned to Netflix, Amazon, whatever I could to find a few more recent French horror films that may rival the disturbance caused by these two previous films. Well, congratulations France, you win. I just watched Inside.

Strike that, I didn't actually watch the whole thing. I couldn't. It made me so viscerally ill that I actually had to turn it off. Between the multiple stabbings, heads being blown off, eyes being gouged out, and pregnant women taking a beating I thought I had been through it all. I handled all that, and then I was expected to handle a scissor given at-home c-section? No. No no no no. I don't think so. That was not part of the deal.

So, I stopped. I just couldn't do it anymore. I totally pussed out. And ya know what, I'm okay with that. I'm actually rather glad that even a horror phenom such as myself has limits. Although, it's probably a bad thing that I'm now suspicious of all the French people I'm surrounded by....

Hipster Must-See: Warriors

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In my previous post, I discussed Walter Hill's Streets of Fire and the epic-ness that is the costuming of that film. Well, after my foray into Hill's box-office bomb, I picked up another Hill film, this time with a bit more press, The Warriors.

First off, let me just say that I can only fully appreciate this film because I live in New York. If I didn't, I just could not have even understood how epic this is. Second, if anyone knows where I can get a Warrior's vest please let me know, I think that is a necessity for my life.

So, the gangs of New York are sick of being at war, and Cyrus (leader of all that is good and righteous in the gans) calls for a cease fire between the gangs, so that they may focus their attention on much more important things, such as getting the fuzz. During the big meeting in the Bronx, Cyrus is killed, and everyone blames the Warriors. Now, the Warriors must make it from the Bronx to Coney Island via subway, with every other gang in New York after them. Joined by the Bronx Harlot, Mercy, the Warriors are up for the battle of a lifetime, only to make it to.....Coney Island. Really? That's where they want to get? Huh. Wow....I guess that's cool, that you'll battle that hard for....Coney...Island. Okay, wait, really?

So the plot is less then believable, but who cares? All the gangs where matching outfits and you're surprised when they don't break out into song and dance. Oh! And there is a gang of solely girls who use against the Warriors. Baseball bats, police battles, knife fights, undercover cops, this movie's got it all. That must be why Tony Scott is planning on remaking it in 2010.

Oh man, I gotta stop talking about this movie, it's making me want to beat people up again....and wear leather vests. Rent it, or own it, now.

Fashion and Film: Betsey Johnson versus Streets of Fire

While I was home in Montana last week I spent a day on the couch catching up on movies I had never seen or heard of that my dad loves. Now, what you have to understand about my family is that my parents are young, and therefore, their tastes are not your typical familial tastes. My parents live for the late seventies (hard rock, not disco), and the 80s (and all the gloriously large hair that goes with it, though they haven't went so far as to implement this into their lives, thank god).

Anyway, so my parents have always loved Walter Hill's film, Streets of Fire. When I was younger, I could not have cared less, but now, appreciating Diane Lane for the fine actress she is, I have started to go back and watch her films, so lucky for me, Streets of Fire was on the DVR. Lane's character, Ellen Aim is this hard-rockin' sexpot songstress who gets herself into a bit of trouble. Throughout most of the film she is running around in this black leather and red spandex get-up that is completely unexplainable. And nearly impossible to find a picture of.

Well, I think my beloved Betsey Johnson watched Streets of Fire while designing her fall collection, because this is rather reminiscent of Ms. Ellen Aim:



Or maybe BJ went through a Diane Lane phase, and stole this idea from Ladies and Gentleman, The Fabulous Stains, another Diane Lane film from the 80s. Ahhhh, the 80s, we should have never let you go.

Fashion Week: Betsey Johnson

Oh Betsey Johnson, how I love thee. Recently I was watching a re-run of the Clueless TV show from the early 90's in which Betsey Johnson guest appeared on. It made me love her even more. Last season, I didn't love Betsey Johnson as much as I could have, and that made me a sad panda. And then, BAM!



Betsey designs this. I can't even use words to describe it's joy. I know that in all reality I should be completely joking about this. I should find something to hate about the feathers, crinoline, and *gulp* leopard print tights. But I can't. I'm a fashion victim, make something whimsical, over-the-top, German expressionist, or Tim Burtonesque and I'm sold. I'm such a sucker. Well played, BJ.

Fashion Week: Elie Tahari

Anyone who knows me well, knows that not only is my style highly influenced by music, but is largely influenced by literature. In January, I tackled The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand. As I tore through the pages of Rand's philosophy of objectivism, all I could think was "I want to be Dominique Francon." Luckily, I had a close friend who had also read the book, and could relate to my need to be a powerful, savvy, smart, manipulative, sexy, and fierce women in the early 20th century.

So what does this have to do with Elie Tahari? Tahari is one of my to-die-for brands, and I usually wish I could afford every piece. The strange thing, is that Tahari is so beautiful and mature and professional, very unlike my personal style. However, I still find myself coveting every piece in the collection, and Fall 09 is no different. Tahari's pieces somehow bridge eras, generations, and manage to blend architecture, floral, and clean lines. I must have them all. I swear, if Dominique Francon were a character today, she would live in all of Tahari's clothes. In fact, I think this is everything I envisioned her in as I was reading the book. I'm in lust. Sigh.

Fashion Week

I am currently living in New York City for my first fashion week. Although the fall shows are not as important as the Spring shows, everywhere I go, fashion week seems to be on everyone's mind. So, with my usual love of style.com's daily updates, I'll be posting a few opinions of the current shows over the next week. Enjoy!