Royal Wedding Dresses

Although my father would be appalled, I did watch the Royal Wedding, or rather youtube highlights, but with my Celebrity Class, not in my living room at 5 am. I actually caught the final moments (the balcony kiss) as I was getting ready for work today. Having seen the dress, I figured the rest was missable (save Posh Spice's outfit, of course) although I watched enough snippets to be relatively well informed in future conversations. I also didn't miss tons of sleep so that was another positive, even though Peeps was doing her best to get me up by 5 am.

Like the Oscars, this wedding seemed to all come down to the clothes, and as most of these were essentially uniforms of one sort or another, (hats/bright colored dresses with matching jackets, hats/suits/military attire), the bride's dress (and that of a former British girl group) were the real red carpet attractions. Posh, as seems to be the case of late, did not disappoint, her pregnant stomach carefully draped in navy blue fabric, her husband's hat hiding her torso, all accessorized with her custom made Louboutins and equally custom made ponytail.

The bride, however, was somewhat dull. Granted, this appears to be part of her image--dull, driven, very upper middle-class girl who will not shake the monarchy apart, reasonably attractive, good figure, nice hair, good breeding stock to add some new blood into the ancien regime. She's certainly no fashion plate although she's not an embarrassing dresser either--just solid Sloaney contemporary, the modern equivalent of too many of the girls I went to University with in the UK. Her dress really said it all. Mildly derivative of Grace Kelly's 1950s affair, it spoke volumes about the expectations attendant upon a wealthy commoner marrying royalty. Unlike her late mother-in-law, she chose a dress that took up little room, suggesting that she would not make waves and would similarly fit herself into her surroundings. Its relatively clean lines also indicated a willingness to subdue any of the extravagances of self, to conform to the system to which she submitted herself, as well as gesturing to the ideas of clean, upper-class taste. Diana was not a fashion plate, although the world pretended she was, but she was someone who was entranced with fads and followed the trends, albeit in their high end forms. The ruffles and lace that became synonymous with her early style had already moved through Vivian Westwood's pirates and Britain's New Romantics long before her wedding dress made its crumpled first appearance out of that carriage. Her choice spoke of a woman perhaps too invested in the world of pop culture, fashion and pop music, a sensibility that foregrounded the self and sentiment, not restraint and acceptance of hierarchies and position. As it filled the aisle and its excessive train billowed out for yards and yards, its very size articulated a different persona from Kate's slim and streamlined gown--that of a young woman who would not renounce self for Queen and Country, but was instead inspired by romantic fictions and fashions.

Kate Middleton, on the other hand, not only stayed true to a style that is essentially recognized for its quiet conformity to upper class social norms, but also evoked her role as consort above all else. No peaks of cleavage, no creases, muted decorations, all of them expressing emblems of her husband's royal heraldry. Besides echoing Grace Kelly's gown, her dress bore some resemblance to Princess Anne's own choice, with both harking back to far older models--Kate's had a pared-down Tudor look to it, especially around the neckline, while Anne's was overtly Renaissance Fair-Medieval. Given Princess Anne's status as the hard working royal, the one most respected by traditionalists and most associated with customary royal ideals, I feel this resemblance also spoke volumes. This was not the muted presence of a bride who acknowledged the recession and public service cuts that have eviscerated British life, but rather a clear announcement of someone who will accept their place and maintain royal tradition, containing self in the process.

As for Posh, I think she gets more fabulous as every year goes by. Best dressed at the wedding by far.

Presidio Motel

While in Santa Barbara, my friend Jenny and I stayed at the Presidio Motel located centrally on State Street. Basically, it's a small (16 room) typically American 1950s motel complex that has been given an artsy makeover. Each room is different, there are free bikes available, internet is weak but free and there is a complimentary continental breakfast with tea, coffee, fruit, hard boiled eggs and yummy sweet breads, muffins and scones. There's also a fridge in each room which is great for people staying longer and not going to wedding-related events. There's also the best gift shop ever (save the Opening Ceremony shop at the Ace Hotel), which I'll blog about later.

We were in room 15 which looks like this (from the motel's website):

Here are some of the photos I took:

And here's the view from our window--there is a little sun deck which we didn't have the time to use--this was an early morning photo before the sun burned through the clouds. As visitors on Eastern Time, we were early risers:

It was great staying somewhere that wasn't part of a chain and had its own charm and style. Plus the guest store sold Rachel Comey, striped t-shirts, letterpress cards and artisan jewelry and leather goods, amongst other items, so it was all pretty much to my taste. I highly recommend the hotel if you are in the area--the owners are great and it is all very reasonably priced for the area. It was nice to call it our temporary home in the area.

California--Flight Saga

My trip was great, framed by unfortunate and frustrating travel interruptions. On the way out, I had to change planes in Dallas and as I had a 90+ minute layover, I'd planned lunch. As a former Texas resident, I knew DFW had decent food, including local eateries. It would take some time to find but even in such a huge airport, I knew I had time to seek out food, eat it, and board my flight. I was actually looking forward to my layover. Such is my work schedule that I rarely have time for a proper lunch (like most people today), so it would be dead time I'd use wisely.

Given my plans for lunch, I nearly skipped getting something to eat at La Guardia. I'd packed organic grapes and crackers, eaten a banana for breakfast, so it seemed like overkill. But then part of me thought better and I bought two (mediocre) eggs on a (terrible, white) roll. It was just as well. Our sold out flight was evidently turned away from DFW due to tornados north of the airport and because La Guardia limits the amount of fuel a plane can carry, we had to divert to Oklahoma City and refuel as we didn't have sufficient fuel to circle at Dallas. So my layover (and carefully planned lunch) time was spent in the middle of the tarmac (we didn't pull into a gate or deplane). We arrived at DFW just in time for me to miss my flight which took off on time as it seemed like our plane was one of the few that day to be delayed. As appears to be typical of the airline industry today, American had fully booked all other planes to LA and Santa Barbara and I had, of course, missed all my connections. I spoke to a rep on the phone for 40 minutes but she wasn't given consent to sign my ticket over to United (to get in about 7 hours after I'd planned). But I did manage to persuade a gate attendant to let me on the next LA flight as soon as a seat emerged. It wouldn't get me to Santa Barbara but I'd deal with that when I arrived.

It turned out all flights for Santa Barbara that day were overbooked so I got the bus instead. I arrived three hours late and none too happy.

On the way back, everything was going well. Santa Barbara flight left on time and I arrived so early at LAX that I tried to get on one of the two NYC flights that left before mine. Alas, everything was overbooked so I ended up on my flight. It left on time. Then it returned to the gate after an hour or so in the air after a technical malfunction 35 minutes into our trip. We had to deplane, wait, reboard, by which time our 12.40 am arrival time (as late as I wanted to get in, indeed a little later than I'd hoped) was history. Sometime after 3 am we landed. I was in bed by 3.45 after finding a kindly cab driver (and spending money I'd hoped to save by using public transit). With teaching the next day, this was not the end to the weekend I'd planned. American did gift passengers with 3,000 miles for the flight interruption on the way back but my anger at the way the first set of flight snafus was handled remains. I learned a lesson though. As my dear friend Chris told me, never fly through Dallas in the spring because of the unpredictable weather.

Pictures and posts from Santa Barbara, the wedding, and the surrounding events will follow.

Back from California

That was some trip in all senses of the word! I will fill in the details and post pictures later but right now I am sleep deprived and rushing off to teach. I had a great time marred only by the worst flying experiences both ways--getting in at 3.30 am this morning rather than the scheduled 12.40. Thank you American Airlines! A rant on this topic will surely follow, along with a complaint to the airline.

Otherwise, the bride was beautiful, the wedding likewise and the time with friends priceless.

Cutest Picture of the Week

It's been a long, grey, hard working week. I'm sure we all need a little uplift and here it is--in the form of a Montana firefighter who rescued a little tabby kitten.

I also received an IM from my email and internet phobic friend, Harry, one of the dearest people in my life and the sweetest woman in the world. She's the kind of person who'd rescue kittens too--she has the biggest heart I've ever seen.

Taxes, Rain--and Lions

Yet again, spring eludes us in NYC. A mere two 70+ degree days this year and many more where I'm clutching my coats to my neck or cursing my stupidity in thinking I could go without a sweater, cardigan and some kind of tank top underwear. Today is no different--cold, wet, possibly dangerous winds and a threatening storm.

In addition, it's tax day. After a week with three defenses and paper proposal grading, I managed to get a cold, meaning that while I did get my taxes in today, my state return was nominally a day late. Alas, this was not going to be a year where I got much of a return. Despite buying a new computer (my old one was getting scarily unreliable which isn't good for an academic), traveling nationally and internationally for conferences and research and buying a lot of books and dvds for classroom and research use, I still ended up paying over $400 to the federal govt. I should get a little less than that back from the state but it reminds me to alter my allotments for next year. Had I received a refund big enough, I'd have considered getting the A Detacher Didions I tried on with Caroline on Wednesday in my brief period of (stolen) free time. But I wasn't going to blow all of a refund on one item and it looks like I'm not blowing any cash on anything any time soon now.

So, I have a cold, its wet, windy and chilly outside and I had to pay into my taxes. I'd rather have those three bundled together than deal with them individually so that's all just as well. No pilates or zumba for me today. Much of the day I've slumped around in my J. Crew pajamas.

Now it is time to shower, drink more tea and soon, head off to the Museum of the Moving Image to see Male and Female with Ashley, Ben and Brynn. Tigers ahoy! Then, hopefully, Sripraphai tonight. Nothing I love better than good spicy Thai food at the best of times, but when I have a cold, it's even more necessary.

More Owls

As some of you know, I have a soft spot for owls. Their big round eyes, tendency towards tawny coloring and little beak remind me of my dear little Peeps. I just saw these babies on the internet--abandoned and orphaned owlettes who are about to be released into the wild and couldn't resist sharing their tiny faces.

Even more surprising--or perhaps appropriate--they come from the RSPCA Wildlife Centre in East Winch, right by Mum, Dad, my brother and sister-in-law and where I went to village discos with my friends Sarah and Caroline back when I was 13-14.