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As someone who spent considerable childhood time at midwestern state fairs and the Bristol Renaissance Faire, I am no stranger to fried food.

Having said that, the Big E really put my training to the test.

The boyfriend and I traveled to Connecticut where his family picked us up and swooped us off to the fair. Now, this fair was relatively new to me (compared to a State Fair or a Ren Faire): it has rides and fair games, of course, plus a big farm animal/horse section. PLUS the state houses, which was my favorite part. They are big, beautiful buildings representing each of the New England states. Inside each one is food, crafts and other goodies unique to that state. Picture lots and lots of maple syrup, essentially.





(Big "E"... get it?) O hai big frizzy hair.

We walked around for hours, checking out the sites and having a good time.



Beer tent



Creepy floats









Communing with nature

Then came the truly shocking, bizarre and shameful eating. I tried a fried Oreo and pondered these guys:



Fried dough and fried Kool Aid

And, the worst part of my day:



A "cheesesteak" that was actually just a roll, a chunk of "steak," some defeated onions, and a few LADLEFULS of beige cheese. I spent the whole day playing chicken with my stomach, expecting some truly horrible side effects. It was a miracle nothing bad happened.

Then, the whole gang made our way to Hartford to eat at the restaurant run by the boyfriend's mom, Dish. I had probably the best lobster bisque ever, then some delicious clam spaghetti. We topped off the Day of Gluttony with some ridiculously good desserts.







I'd like to thank my body for not turning on me. I promise to go easy this week.

Perks of Prohibition

I made it to the previously mentioned Jazz Age Fest on Governor's Island and boy was it... everything I could have ever hoped or dreamed. Seriously, the amount of trouble people went through (especially considering the 87 degree heat) was joyous.

See for yourself.

Step one: the East River Ferry from North Williamsburg to Governor's Island. Boyfriend looked like he was on his way to Ellis Island from the Old Country.







We passed bridges:





And yours truly got windblown:



Then, the main event.



As I expected, I didn't have time or money to go for one of the beautiful vintage dresses I was considering. I made do with this maxi dress from ASOS and threw my hair into a Gibson roll with a vintage bit of embroidery pinned above it.





[And of course, the dress isn't what we'd call "'20s"... but it does have a similar shape and pattern to what you'd have seen in the '30s. I did my best.]

Close enough

We tucked into the St. Germain cocktails (me) and Brooklyn Brewery offerings (him), and had a right good time.



















When it all got to be too much...



We got back on the ferry and reentered the year 2011. And became those weirdos walking down the street looking like we've been lost since Halloween.

Jazzy

SO. Two years in a row I missed the Governor's Island Jazz Age Party and I am not missing it again.

Of course, my "post war"-loving self would give my crinoline to attend the Chap Olympiad in London, but as far as decade-themed summer dance parties go, beggars can't be complainers. (Heh. Also, #whitewhine.)

Jazz Age party:



Chap Olympiad:


Chap Olympiad, 2009 from Will Jordan on Vimeo.

Oh well.

So, me being me, I can't just show up in jeans. And while I have been collecting mid century dresses for a while, I lack most things Art Deco. Well, that's not true—I have a beautiful black '20s dress and another from the '30s. But black isn't suitable for sipping cocktails on the lawn in August.

It doesn't help that the boxy, square silhouette from that time doesn't suit me at all. Cloche hats pinch my hair. I am easily annoyed by not being able to drink wherever I want. (Prohibition joke?) That's why I think expanding "1920s Jazz Age" to include the more fitted '30s silhouette is probably okay. Vanity.

I have two vaguely '30s-style modern dresses that could work, but I know I'd be lighter on my feet in true vintaaaage. To the internets...!

(Not all of these fit my body or the budget, but this is basically what I want.)

Eyelet

Detail

Ruffles

'30s chiffon

Satin-y

Beady

What I've Been Doing: A Photo Essay

If by photo essay, you let me mean "post some low-quality pictures and write a wholly indulgent 'let's bring you up to speed!'", then... yes. This is that.

I work at an advertising agency. It's a digital shop so I'm online a lot. Researching memes and writing and Photoshopping and... stuff. And my art director brings me snacks!

She says it's a Girl Scout cookie, which-- don't they only sell those in February? I call shenanigans. But man are they good. Speaking of shenanigans, my AD went as Ben Franklin to our agency Halloween party.

Here's what I did this week:

-Saw Fantastic Mr. Fox. It rocked.

-Went to a Band of Skulls concert. I also saw Wolfmother last week and had severely impaired hearing for a day or two. That's an NG [no good], as the firechief would say.

-Wrote this. It's startlingly nerdy but worthy of a clickthrough, non?

-Got free tickets and went to the MTVu Woodie Awards. I still can't exactly explain the event, other than it being a (free!) opportunity to see Matt and Kim, Passion Pit, Death Cab and The Dead Weather perform on the same night. I got bumped into by a lot of NYU freshmen in stilettos, saw girlcrush Zooey Deschanel from afar and took a poll on whether Katie should get bangs.

staaart, music.

y/n?

The Dead Weather absolutely kicked my ass. I love them.

-Put a border around my site.

-Volunteered as a "hair model" at the Arrojo salon and got a free blowdry. The stylist was a champ and managed to bring me from this to straight hair. It's still holding up the day after:

-Did New Moon at midnight. The combination of wine and prize-winning bad acting made it one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. I highly recommend it.

-Was and am very sad that Daul Kim died.

In summation: I'm a bit tirezzzzz

Blackberry View On French Band

Here is my hoard of terrible quality Blackberry photos from the Phoenix Apple store appearance and the show tonight with Passion Pit. The little camera is shitty (and the zoom stopped working tonight) but I have this deep-seeded instinct to capture concerts and I didn't bring my beautiful Nikon D40. So. Sorry.

Apple store:

That's them, I promise.

Passion Pit at Rumsey Playfield:

Main event:

Aaand that last one is the lead singer, Thomas, on top of the amp. He was standing inititally, but I was trying to send him don't fall vibes and didn't get the phone out in time.

Believe it or not, the show was fantastic. I'd never been to Rumsey Playfield in Central Park before, but it was right where the internet said it would be. They were also selling beer AND I got there as doors opened, so I grabbed a comfortable spot on the ground and made friends with the people around me.

It started on time with Passion Pit opening-- no fuss. They just walked out, said hey, and started playing "I've Got Your Number". Almost everything about the concert was perfect, too. I sort of heave an internal sigh everytime I go to a show, because there's always assholes that make things difficult. But this time the assholery was next to none. Two bands, long sets, nice people around me. Done.

There was a funny bit when the singer from Passion Pitt swung his mic too hard and it broke, so he wandered around for the rest of the song and got us to clap while the roadies fixed it.

Phoenix was fantastic, obviously. It was a very similar setlist to the Terminal 5 show, but it was clear they're much more comfortable with a large crowd now. They've turned into rockstars. Famous noooo.

Thomas jumped into the audience during the encore like at T5, but went waaay far into the crowd and crowdsurfed back. He was perched on someone's shoulders, facing the stage, and he cued the band back into the song.

Tomorrow is night two of their Central Park takeover, but I didn't get tickets in time. I might try to sit outside and see if I can hear anything. Good work, boys!