The 2011 Coney Island Mermaid Parade

There may be bigger and more famous parades in New York City, but there is no parade better than the Coney Island Mermaid Parade. It's the kind of parade where the marching bands start playing on the subway en route, and they don't stop when the parade is over. They reconvene on the boardwalk and try to play louder than the radios blasting reggaeton on the sand. There are no giant floats covered in millions of tiny roses; people build giant clam shells in the back of pickup trucks. Open container laws are non-existent on the boardwalk, there are so many topless women you loose count, but there are no skirmishes. Everyone is friends, just like in Coney's heyday. Spectators and marchers alike are decked out in scallops bras, sea kelp, shark fins, fish nets, glitter, gold paint, lobster claws, coral reefs and tentacles. Some people threw their costumes together in ten minutes, others spent three weeks building theirs. It doesn't matter--everyone looks beautiful as a sea creature.

At the turn of the century, New Yorkers flocked to Coney Island by the thousands each weekend to indulge in the new-fangled leisure culture. The Victorian era ideals that fun also had to be constructive were disappearing. Fun did not have to be reading a novel with a grand moral meaning or looking at Jesus paintings in a museum; fun could be riding a roller coaster until you vomited. Upper and working classes alike went to Coney Island to watch a belly dancer's gyrating hips, see a hotel shaped liked an elephant, to put on their lightweight suits or a pair of bloomers and wade in the ocean, and take a spin on rides like the Human Whirlpool. There was even a yearly Mardi Gras parade, but its run ended in 1954. In 1983, the Mermaid Parade was founded as a reboot of Mardi Gras. In with the sea creatures and mythical beasts are homages to Coney's past.

Like old-timey strongmen.

Or nods to its seedy underbelly.

Every body is a bikini body at Coney.

Mother of Pearl.

Parade tip: Stand behind a child with cuteness greater than or equal to this girl. The marchers are more likely to throw beads, candy and the ugliest tee shirts ever in your general direction.

Little Neptune does not allow his seahorse guards to text while on duty.

Me: Zeus, you don't live in the ocean.

Zeus: I'm Zeus, I live wherever I want.

Nurse sharks.

Coral reef spectators.

Water ballet on land.

Dear Susan G. Komen for the Cure

Octo Friends!

Meet my new octo friend! (and check out my greasy hair).


He doesn't have a name yet. He's gonna go live at e's house, so I'll let him pick a name. I've been looking for quick sewing projects to work on to break up my cover letter writing sessions, and this little cephalopod will be the first of many. I found the pattern on Craftster.org. I'm going to make the tentacles a little wider on the next one to make machine sewing and turning it right side out a little easier.

Ant Farm Costume!

For Halloween 2010, I decided to be the classic Uncle Milton's Art Farm.

I love making costumes that are also wearable; I want to restrict my movement and ability to move through crowds as little as possible. For this one, I started by making a simple tank dress to use as the base.

To make the tunnels, I blew up a photo of actual ant farm tunnels in Photoshop and traced them onto a piece of white muslin. Then I used a paint brush to apply Sobo glue to the non-tunnel portions and poured white corn meal onto the glue. I let this dry, dumped off the corn meal and kept laying it with glue and cornmeal. When I had enough cornmeal layers to look like a real ant farm, I sprayed it with a fixative to seal in the grain.

As soon as the tunnels were dry, I hot glued the plastic ants marching through them. (I would've preferred to use a glue that dried clear, but I was running out of time. Hot glue saved the day!) In case you're wondering, I did have a queen ant. She's on the bottom right down in the tunnels; she's just a tiny bit larger than the rest of the ants.

I cut the farm silhouette and edges out of a thin, green foam. I hot glued the farm scene to the dress while I was wearing it so the placement was perfect. Then I hot glued the tunnels onto the dress, and covered up the fabric edges with the foam edge pieces. For the finished look, I wore gold sparkly tights with a pair of green boots, just about the color of the farm scene.

Sadly, I only got to wear my creation for about two hours. I decided to take it off so I could bike easily from Park Slope to Williamsburg. I hit a bump and it flew out of my basket, and I realized it too late. Eric, Sam and I retraced our path, but it disappeared. So guess what I'm going to be next year...

100% Organic, 2% Bile

I saw a (presumably) homeless man sitting on the bench of an L Train car. His two bags were laying on the floor, the rest of the passengers had avoided sitting next to him. As I stepped into the car, I saw a jug of Apple and Eve brand juice sitting at his feet. "I hope that's actually apple juice," I thought as I stepped into the car, taking a whiff of the air to test. It was fine, so I sat on a bench several banks away from him. I could see him eating some sort of black twiggy thing from out of an unlabeled metal can. This lasted for several stops. The train doors opened at a stop shortly after he finished eating, and he chucked the can across the car onto the tracks below.

He stood when the train started moving again, grabbing the apple juice jug and facing the set of doors. I thought maybe he just wanted a view of the inside of the train tunnel while he drank his juice. But he never raised the jug to his lips. Instead, he lowered it further below his waist, right near the crotch of his pants. I saw him fiddling with his fly over the top of my National Geographic, and then the liquid level in the jug started to rise.

The Balsamic Incident

As a general rule, I hate sandwiches. I do make exceptions. Lately my favorite has been apple slices with cheddar, mixed greens and balsamic vinegar on a fluffy French roll. Last week, I had the sandwich in pieces and decided I should drizzle the balsamic on the bread first so the flavor was evenly dispersed. As I grabbed the bottle of vinegar off our kitchen shelf, I hit our second bottle of balsamic, knocking it to the floor. When i stepped back to survey the damage, my foot landed on the broken bottle, causing me to drop the vinegar I was holding.



I ran my bloody foot under the bathroom sink before the vinegar could hit my open wound. I fashioned a band aid out of paper towels and electrical tape, finished making my sandwich and waited until my foot stopped bleeding to clean up the mess.

Hey Kids, it's Nipple Slip Barbie!

"Barbie Basics" is a new line of Barbies who are supposedly wearing simple, everyday clothes. Somehow, I don't think this neckline qualifies.



If a real woman with boobs above an A cup wore this dress, her nipple would jump out with the slightest wrong move. I know Barbie is a plastic doll with completely unrealistic proportions; her cup size is one that most real women achieve through surgery. I'm no Puritan, and I think the Disney Princess franchise is far more detrimental to young girls than Barbie's wardrobe. But, here's the thing about big boobs, doll or human: you don't have to do much to emphasize them. It's as simple as avoiding turtle necks and baggy clothes, finding V neck T shirts and wearing a bra that fits well. Barbie's boobs would've looked just as supple in a white dress with a neckline that only showed a bit of cleavage. This dress is something you'd wear to a night club with bottle service, not to take your dog to smell other dogs at a park. (Unless you're the kind of terrible person who would buy a dog just to pick up dudes).

And speaking of nipple slips, a Chinese company put this bra on the market.
Why yes, those are slots so your nipples can be out on display. (Presuming your nipples are perfectly in the middle of your boobs). Maybe it's just me, but I like to choose who sees my nipples. And once again, the people who want to look at boobs will do it even if they can't see your nipples.

And then there's the clevaage caddy...

I can't lie. I think this thing is awesome.