Here’s a lame reason to plan a trip to San Francisco—shopping at the H&M. It would be lame, except this wasn’t just any H&M shopping trip. It was for an H&M collaboration with COMME des GARCONS.
I’ll admit that when I mentioned why I was going to Frisco, most people responded with a look that said, “COMME des GAR what?” But Rei Kawakubo and her COMME des GARCONS brand are the darlings of the fashion world and have been for some time. Her unwillingness to go big, her subversive stores that are often difficult to find or open only a few months, and her unconventional clothes, have given her a reputation as a designer’s designer. So a clothing line created in conjunction with global mega retailer H&M sparked interest.
I learned two things from this shopping trip.
First, I’m a naïve shopper. My friend and I flew into San Francisco the day the COMME des GARCONS clothes hit the racks. We arrived on the earliest flight and headed straight to the store, getting there 30 minutes after opening. As we approached the Powell Street store we were greeted by window displays emblazoned with vinyl graphics proclaiming, “H&M COMME des GARCONS.” As we entered the store, a woman in a display window appended those graphics with the words, “SOLD OUT.”
Inside it was mayhem. People scrambled to grab whatever, whether it fit or not. The desperate loitered near fitting rooms nabbing anything left behind by shoppers disappointed that the clothes didn’t fit. Others bartered, trying to trade items for things they wanted more. I entered H&M to stares that said, “Oh look at the shopper from Salt Lake, isn’t he quaint?” My friend and I managed to navigate the scene and find a few items thanks to some friendly shoppers and a few flirty sales personnel who took pity on us, probably because of the stunned looks on our faces.
We later learned that savvy shoppers queued up hours before the store opened to score the best clothes and that such lines happen for most of H&M’s collaborations. In about an hour, everything was gone. And the most dedicated COMME des GARCONS fans waited in line to purchase the display clothes from the windows.
The second thing I learned is that I’m not cool enough for COMMES des GARCON. To be truthful, I learned this lesson years ago in New York City on a visit to the Chelsea store. I walked past the entrance four or five times before realizing that an unmarked aluminum tunnel set in the face of an old brick building was actually the store entrance. As I walked in, I was scrutinized by the staff and immediately written off. I spent the rest of my excursion looked down upon from eyes perched atop some very long noses. Imagine my relief when they actually allowed me to make a purchase.
Sure, the H&M experience was different. Finding the store is a cinch and the sales staff are friendly in a way only San Franciscans can pull off. But the kids buying the clothes (and at my age I use "kids" for anyone under 35), they out-cooled me by miles. Friendly, urban, global, and smart, they seem intent on living in a world where you can be what you want. Maybe that’s just the San Francisco in them. But it sure serves to bolster Rei’s reputation and to make for what might be the most exciting shopping excursion of my life. Who knew retail could be so invigorating?
Two days and one night in San Francisco. It might not sound like much but when a friend and I attacked the city for a two-day break, the result was a mini vacation packed with fun. The weather was so good, I had to buy short-sleeve shirts just to stay comfortable. And as always, San Francisco delivered with shopping, culture, and plain old camp. So over the next several posts, I’ll record my adventures from the city by the bay.
Recently, after attending a Day of the Dead festival, My Favorite Mexican* took me to Paisa Grill. It instantly became my favorite Mexican restaurant. Step through the doors and you're transported to someplace south of the border. We walked in on Mexican Karaoke and were quickly ushered to our table.
The décor was Funky Mexican Beach Shack with brightly colored, Aztec-inspired chairs. Signs advertised buckets of beer for $9.99. Weathered tin buckets arrived at tables filled with six iced bottles of Corona.
We ordered the rolled tacos which were deep-fried delicious. Then we shared the Molcajete Grill Supreme. This piping hot stone bowl was loaded with chicken, beef, shrimp, cactus, onions, and a delicious green sauce. It came with house made tortillas. Yum.
If that wasn’t enough, about halfway through our meal, Banda Agave started to play. These handsome Latino musicians were clad in bright green jackets embroidered, studded, and glittered up with the Banda Agave logo. When they started to play, the party kicked into high gear. The group was all brass and drums and Latin vocals that got the crowd to its feet for a night of dancing.
Strangely, I ran into someone from work. Crystal Keating walked past on the way to her table and proclaimed, “What are you doing at my place?” Well, Crystal the secret is out, it’s no longer “your place.”
If you’re looking for an adventurous, authentic Mexican meal without the flight down south, visit Paisa Grill at 2126 South 3200 West.*My Favorite Mexican informs me that I can no longer call him My Favorite Mexican. His recent naturalization means he's now a citizen and proud to be an American. So consider this a fond farewell.
Halloween is interesting. But I’ve decided that the Mexican celebration known as the Day of the Dead is better. I came to this conclusion after attending the Day of the Dead Fiesta at the Utah Cultural Celebration Center located at 1355 West 3100 South in West Valley City.
It was fun. There was a scary dance performance by men, women, and children dressed in skulls, black and sinister clothing, and dramatic feathers that reached high into the air. Most were scary, although one girl wore a skirt with rhinestone skulls that were so cute they didn't do much to intimidate. (Eat your heart out Damien Hirst.) The dancers performed to live, exhilarating drumming. I was amazed at how much music three drummers can create. It’s startling how powerful such pounding rhythms can be. And watching little kids react is fantastic.
That was only part of the fun. The Day-of-the-Dead shrines were just plain cool, replete with skulls and candles and notes and pictures and colors and paintings and more. We also got to decorate miniature sugar skulls with glittery glue (see the inset photo). And a Day-of-the-Dead celebration just wouldn’t be complete without pan de muerto (day-of-the-dead bread).
What a wonderful way to remember some of my favorite people who are no longer here.
I decided I needed a photograph of me for my blog. I don’t know why? It just seemed like a good idea. So I asked Felix to act as the official Viva Variety photographer. His qualifications include a degree in photography from the University of Utah and graduate work at the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. Not too shabby.
Felix took a bunch of pictures and knowing my penchant for photo booths, (I recently tried to purchase the photo booth at a K-Mart going-out-of business sale) he suggested the faked photo booth photo seen here. I think Felix made me look pretty dang good. Thanks Felix.
This year for the first time, Plan B Theatre Company’s annual Halloween radio show crept out of the Radio West studios and into the Studio Theater at Rose Wagner. That meant theatergoers could watch the show live. And it was more fun than I expected.
The show was Mary Shelly’s Frankenstein, adapted for the 60-minute presentation by Ivan Bennett. Starring as Doctor Frankenstein was KUER’s Doug Fabrizio. He proved more convincing in the dramatic role than expected. And the other actors were just as engaging, even though they never left their chairs and read the entire show.
The most fun elements of the evening were the Foley artists, Jennifer Freed and Sam Mollner. They created a wide range of special effects from water lapping against a ship to sails blowing in the wind to driving rain. Two of my favorites; the sound of the ship’s captain’s pencil writing the Doctor’s story, and the constantly beating heart.
Not long ago, I listened to the unabridged audio book of Shelley’s Frankenstein on a trip to Wyoming. And it’s no small work of literature. So I was skeptical that one could stay true to the story, keep the show to 60 minutes, and not lose the audience. But this performance succeeded. It was the perfect story for a dark fall evening.
The run of the show has ended. But you can listen to the Radio West broadcast here.
I’ve lived in the neighborhood for over a decade and I’ve walked past the Chase Home Museum of Utah Folk Arts at least a thousand times. But until last weekend, I’d never entered the building. Bored on a rainy fall day, I thought I might as well check it out. It is, after all, free.
There was no one else there except for a little old lady, the volunteer museum attendant. She was delighted to see me and immediately began to dust and polish the cases to make sure I had a clear view of the treasures inside. But it was obvious that these cases get plenty of dusting and polishing.
The woman provided some valuable info about the museum. First, all of the items inside (although from diverse cultures) are made by Utah residents. Which is a surprising tribute to the cultural diversity of the State.
Also, the curators of the museum scour the state in search of folk art. These are not recognized artists but are ferreted out by the museum staff. I think that’s what gives the museum its quirky elegance.
And there’s plenty of quirkiness. Take the whittlings and small sculptures in the Rural Gallery. Many of the wooden whittled works are fantastic. And the miniature metal sculptures by M.J. Alldredge are deceptively folksy. On closer inspection, the big-breasted women are so sexually charged that the works feel like they were influenced by current art stars. And I’d own one of the paper cuts by Ada Rigby. They’re spectacular.
My other favorite room was the Ethnic Gallery featuring works from cultures around the globe. Of particular note were the Latin-American works like crucifixes by Jeronimo Lozano and Robert Martinez as well as the day-of-the-dead sculptures by Guillermo Colmenero.
There’s plenty more to see at the museum with galleries dedicated to Native American works and occupational crafts that are both functional and beautiful.
I don’t think most people are aware of this small, charming museum. But it’s definitely worth a visit. Unfortunately, it’s only open April through October. So plan a spring visit.
With the title of his new book (The Way We’ll Be; The Zogby Report on the Transformation of the American Dream), John Zogby acts like he can predict the future. Surprisingly, his arguments make a lot of sense. And I hope he’s right. Because I like many of his predictions.
There’s a fair amount of fluff in this book. And a lot of the set up can be tedious if you’re comfortable with the basic tenants of research. But there is plenty of interesting information. Take the comparison of Traditional Materialists to Secular Spiritualist. As with most pollsters, Zogby likes to give groups catchy names. These two groups are introduced with a story about Frederick Tudor and Henry David Thoreau. Here’s the idea, both men look at the same pond. As a leading ice manufacturer of his day, Tudor sees Walden Pond as an economic opportunity for ice harvesting (The Traditional Materialist). Thoreau sees the pond as a metaphor for America’s individualism, liberty, and our relationship with nature (The Secular Spiritualist). And it seems we may be moving in the direction of Secular Spiritualists—less concerned about what we own and buy and more concerned about how fulfilled we are personally and spiritually (and that doesn’t necessarily mean religion).
Zogby also argues that if you want to know what the future will look like, just look at the opinions of those ages 18 – 29. He calls this youngest age category First Globals. First Globals are really changing the game. Many of their ideas, from technology to consumption to expectations are dramatically different than previous generations. They seem more realistic about living in a global environment. They’re more tolerant and embrace diversity like no other generation.
I was particularly surprised about how much the kids these days are comfortable with the gays. I’ve always suspected that younger people are OK with homosexuality, but the number in this book surprised even me. By a nearly two to one margin, First Globals see no problem with same-sex marriage. Almost all of them have friends who are gay. And in this case, the phrase “some of my best friends are gay” doesn’t seem like the preface to an anti-gay argument.
Sure, even in this book the young can come across as frivolous and impetuous. But it’s been a long time since a book about numbers made me feel real hope for the future.
Inside it was mayhem. People scrambled to grab whatever, whether it fit or not. The desperate loitered near fitting rooms nabbing anything left behind by shoppers disappointed that the clothes didn’t fit. Others bartered, trying to trade items for things they wanted more. I entered H&M to stares that said, “Oh look at the shopper from Salt Lake, isn’t he quaint?” My friend and I managed to navigate the scene and find a few items thanks to some friendly shoppers and a few flirty sales personnel who took pity on us, probably because of the stunned looks on our faces.
