– Alice Pylypenko
– Alice Pylypenko
In honor of the first gloomy morning in New York, I down a wine velvet blazer. It works its colour-magic with a stripped red boatneck, flared black jeans, high-top chucks and a straw bag. I am unaccustomed to not embodying the image of summer.
A humid spring-coming-into-summer, is what The Last Shadow Puppets are.
First impressions of this century’s band extraordinaire run along the lines of overwhelming. They are, after all, the synopsis of an eight year hiatus, written in some seventies California dream. Their second album, Everything You’ve Come To Expect, which debuted in April, is an unexpected surprise. It is as if you’ve accidentally gotten the wrong drink, but fell for it more than your usual. It is exactly the record of the summer.
Summer is a post-pop, downtown dark room music video, starring lethargic leather-jacket wearers, cat-eyed karaoke girls and leopard print. Its first night takes me cheekily by the hand and whisks me on the M train to Brooklyn’s Baby’s Alright. The venue is as if an underground-Versailles, lined with neon writings, bottles and palm trees. There, awaited by the underaged groupie-wannabes and cool kids of the New York City scene, the Drowners are due to debut their sophomore album On Desire.
Dracula goes to the beach. Hoping to catch the salted wisps of summer vibes, the bats that are his sunglasses cast the horizon in a more pleasant filter. He listens to the cerulean high that is Alt-J’s Tessellate, and composes strings of poetry about the Bloody Marys and the summer wine. In the profound dusk, tango dresses and carelessly unbuttoned paisley shirts especially resonate to him. The idea of all-white somewhere on the coastal Italy, and reading Kaddish while your mates burry you in the sand, rekindles the desire to wake up before the sun irritates your dreams and hustle unabashedly with an iced coffee in hand.
Summer weather in New York fluctuates with the frequency of an indecisive lover, always hovering at the postal office with a love letter worn in the corners from being gripped so anxiously. The allusion is off, because nowadays one sexts with no afterthought, but the gist is otherwise clear. The windows at Gasoline Alley are open, letting the breeze coyly fuck up my hair. I don’t mind.
From around the corner where Bleecker Street gives Sullivan a French kiss, that very lull drawls heavy in the setting sun. Unkempt hair somehow falling into an otherwise artistic coiffure, cropped denim, polished loafers, red lipstick extravaganza. French paraphernalia.
A warm welcome to all you mofos!
I am finally back in the rainy and melancholic London.
First, I want to sincerely apologize for the severe delays with posting in general. I don’t want to do any self-justification, but exams do take their time and energy.
Anyway, today’s post will be a belated proclamation, on remembering the nostalgic year of 2015, with a dash of “New Year’s Resolutions of 2016,” as modern society expresses the making of achievable goals for stable living.
Let’s state the obvious and all agree that 2015 was a bit of everything.
For me, it brought personal distress of (situational) challenges with my relationships (with the closest people for example,) and evidently that was not the full telos here. I say situational, because they actually are situational, but as you may already have predicted; for me at that time, they were global. Yes, I solemnly admit, I did loose a couple of relationships with certain human beings, but you know, my age underlines as the age where you just about actually start living. Personally, I’m fully with people who say that.
Maybe I will sound like very much of a cliché, but 2015 was one of the most memorable years of my so-far short life. I have gained so much experience in all aspects of self-refinement one could ever imagine (e.g. mixing best outfit trends as well as making a small amelioration of my personal style, having full conscience of my activities and the relationships, and maintaining a confident appearance. Moreover, no longer being anxious about expressing all parts of my culture is very seductive (in a rational and pleasant way,) and really valuing my health so I could maintain all the natural beauty I have and not disappoint my parents in any way.
This year, so many ambiguities await me, I’m positive about it. I now have too much will power to get held back my past or disruptive and fluctuating people, no matter how much I still have for them and how much of it I still wish to express. As I say: “It doesn’t get easier, you just get better.” In a sense, you get a better moral perception of the events that will occur this year, and instead of developing depression from them, you create rational beliefs and just continue living with self-actualization of any thoughts you process.
Down here, you will find a mini slideshow of some of best memories I got from the past 2015 and petite spoilers of the events that are awaiting me personally, and Alice as well.
Have a great and fulfilling Friday everyone!
– Karina Panda
– Alice Pylypenko
I do that damn hackneyed thing, where my whole world bathes into the aftermath blue water of a year just begun. It settles sometime in the tenths of January, when I, tired and maybe still coursing on the tide of glitter and festivity, return to my inevitable schedule (with no place for sleeping-in or going out, at least so decadently.)