New Usher, and godddayum it's hot stuff.
Lolloping with the fierce intensity of a panther on the prowl, this tune is fit and doesn't it bloody well know it. It's all about the sapphic for Usher this time around, with the essential premise being that if girls want to get down and dirty with him, they've got to be prepared to get down and dirty with each other. I'm absoutely loving the heavy beats of the bassline, highlighted by the dark, grimey shadows of the video, which traces Usher's latest conquest's introduction to his sex dungeon (to put it plainly).
For some reason music videos for songs about menage a trois really love hanging girls off monkey bars ...a not so discreet reference to the sexual playground available to those who come in threes.
Nicki Minaj of Young Money fame pops up to spit her pimping part, and my, does she have a classy turn of phrase:
"Excuse me little mama but you could say I'm on duty
I'm lookin for a cutie a real big ole' ghetto booty
I really like your kitty kat and if you let me touch her
I know you not a bluffer.. . I'll take you to go see Usher"
With badger striped hair like that, who could refuse?
The track is also structured around a reworking of the classic "Living For the City" by the legend himself, Stevie Wonder, a tune I'm afraid to say I hadn't heard before stumbling across Usher's efforts. Have a listen and see if you can match the two up
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Blog Me Baby One More Time
Should a “Bloggers Anonymous” exist, could someone reserve me a place at the next meeting? My name is Miranda, and I am a Blog-o-holic.
There is nothing which gives me greater pleasure than hours spent clicking and flicking through the scores of fashion blogs which litter the World Wide Web, from cutesy Chinese girlies peeping out from behind heart shaped glasses to long limbed Australian goddesses rocking some seriously distressed denim.
Standard.
Bloggers are the modern day technological answer to the French revolutionaries of the eighteenth century, except better dressed, obviously. Snatching the focus away from the latest Kate Bosworth ensemble, they’re ensuring a creeping democratisation of fashion with floods of advice and inspiration to the sartorially challenged on how to piece together an outfit so edgy it makes a triangle want to cry.
As well as reporting on the latest catwalk trends and making like mood boards with their vivid collages of current inspirations, the photos of their latest outfit worn to thrift vintage Versace backpacks from the local flea market are what make blogs so unbelievably moreish. It’s like being allowed to peep into someone’s diary with the detailed reasoning of why they’ve decided to fling together the American Apparel with the vintage lace, juxtaposed with artsy, blanched photography of desirable clothing, except that this diary belongs to an extremely fierce fashionista with a fine line in fat black wedges.
Hours of flicking have proved conclusive, and I think I have finally reached a successful conclusion to share with those who wish to take up the fashion blog mantle.
Step One: the artfully tousled locks.
Nearly every blog with hordes of followers to their name haven’t just mastered the art of constructing a fantastic outfit, they’ve also been given the key to that most longed for of secrets; an amazing mane of hair. Of the photos which comprise most bloggers’ posts nearly every picture features hanks of hair, normally dangling far past the shoulders on an unstoppable follicle march downwards, striped artfully with a delicious chocolate-y mix of caramel swirls and burnt toffee pieces.
Step 2: Know your pose.
This is probably the most crucial point of the blog. It doesn’t matter how many mega pixels your camera has, but if you can capture the oh-so-elusive angled pose which serves to make your legs appear the slimmest, your clothes hang most attractively and of course, help your hair look the biggest, you’re well on the way to achieving true fashion blog stardom. Poses which feature talking point backgrounds work better than your average brick wall are also a must -have; perhaps bringing in a small wizened man who serves to emphasise your beauty, or standing stock still amidst a whirl of commuters to juxtapose your flash of vivid colour against the block of black are good starting points.
To be honest, this snap is from a fashion shoot but I feel it is a fab example of how to work that camel.
Step 3: wear knee length socks. For reasons unknown to us mere mortals, it seems a pre-requisite for all bloggers that your legs must look amazing in some black cotton knee highs.
I think this pic from the amazing Christeric blog sums it up. Check her life out - warning, you may experience some severe envy
Follow these simple steps and I can guarantee that within mere minutes I will be clicking on your blog in an urge to quash this monstrous, insatiable urge from within.
***Apart from Christeric, photos have been pinched from the delectable Knightcat blog (a super cool blog which features amazing fashion bits and bobs as well as showcasing hot new bloganistas)***
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
There is nothing which gives me greater pleasure than hours spent clicking and flicking through the scores of fashion blogs which litter the World Wide Web, from cutesy Chinese girlies peeping out from behind heart shaped glasses to long limbed Australian goddesses rocking some seriously distressed denim.
Standard.
Bloggers are the modern day technological answer to the French revolutionaries of the eighteenth century, except better dressed, obviously. Snatching the focus away from the latest Kate Bosworth ensemble, they’re ensuring a creeping democratisation of fashion with floods of advice and inspiration to the sartorially challenged on how to piece together an outfit so edgy it makes a triangle want to cry.
As well as reporting on the latest catwalk trends and making like mood boards with their vivid collages of current inspirations, the photos of their latest outfit worn to thrift vintage Versace backpacks from the local flea market are what make blogs so unbelievably moreish. It’s like being allowed to peep into someone’s diary with the detailed reasoning of why they’ve decided to fling together the American Apparel with the vintage lace, juxtaposed with artsy, blanched photography of desirable clothing, except that this diary belongs to an extremely fierce fashionista with a fine line in fat black wedges.
Hours of flicking have proved conclusive, and I think I have finally reached a successful conclusion to share with those who wish to take up the fashion blog mantle.
Step One: the artfully tousled locks.
Nearly every blog with hordes of followers to their name haven’t just mastered the art of constructing a fantastic outfit, they’ve also been given the key to that most longed for of secrets; an amazing mane of hair. Of the photos which comprise most bloggers’ posts nearly every picture features hanks of hair, normally dangling far past the shoulders on an unstoppable follicle march downwards, striped artfully with a delicious chocolate-y mix of caramel swirls and burnt toffee pieces.
Step 2: Know your pose.
This is probably the most crucial point of the blog. It doesn’t matter how many mega pixels your camera has, but if you can capture the oh-so-elusive angled pose which serves to make your legs appear the slimmest, your clothes hang most attractively and of course, help your hair look the biggest, you’re well on the way to achieving true fashion blog stardom. Poses which feature talking point backgrounds work better than your average brick wall are also a must -have; perhaps bringing in a small wizened man who serves to emphasise your beauty, or standing stock still amidst a whirl of commuters to juxtapose your flash of vivid colour against the block of black are good starting points.
To be honest, this snap is from a fashion shoot but I feel it is a fab example of how to work that camel.
Step 3: wear knee length socks. For reasons unknown to us mere mortals, it seems a pre-requisite for all bloggers that your legs must look amazing in some black cotton knee highs.
I think this pic from the amazing Christeric blog sums it up. Check her life out - warning, you may experience some severe envy
Follow these simple steps and I can guarantee that within mere minutes I will be clicking on your blog in an urge to quash this monstrous, insatiable urge from within.
***Apart from Christeric, photos have been pinched from the delectable Knightcat blog (a super cool blog which features amazing fashion bits and bobs as well as showcasing hot new bloganistas)***
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Saturday, 27 March 2010
Musical Portrait
I’ve got an MA interview on Monday. Gulp. It’s loomed a bit like a spectre over this weekend, sending me into a slight panic as to my proficiency/wordiness/life skills in general. Aside from extremely complicated logistics navigating myself from deepest darkest Devon during the commuter witching hour to the deepest darkest part of East London, one of the things I’ve been asked to do is a pen portrait of someone who’s influenced me. Several chewed pens later and I think I’ve got it, though I’m not going to share it on the hyperspace of the interweb. Ha.
I am however going to share with you a “music portrait” of someone who, aside from demanding a mention on here, has been a guiding angel overflowing with music gems she occasionally lets fall from her grasp into my sweaty palms. I’m going to share a few of them here with you. Happy now Kathy?
Kathy very sweetly gave me her beautifully titled “I want some peace now please” Spotify playlist to help get through the arduous times that tend to comprise working in the university library, featuring the glorious Bon Iver in liberal amounts, the Postal Service and Simon and Garfunkel among others. However, in terms of sheer cheesiness melting into spine-tingling ballad-y goodness, you can’t get much better than Celine. In Las Vegas. Oh yes, I went there.
Let’s get washed away with some epic, blood curdling Quebecois hollering.
Continuing in this vein of divas bringing out the uplifting power ballad, I feel it’s an appropriate point to turn to the Queen herself, Madonna, in her slightly Gothic, late ‘90s, edgy phase.
Not only does this song feature on the aforementioned playlist, but it was also a soundtrack to my time well spent in France. Many an afternoon spent clutching a can of cidre and watching the sun drift hazily over the snow capped Alps were soundtracked by this haunting music. Lovely strings.
Of course, the musical portrait can’t be all slow and introspective. A moment spent with Kathy is a moment spent in roughly 1987, which is why The Cure had to be included. Massive thanks have to go to her for sharing this delicious little number with me; Robert Plant’s yowling vocals over the irresistible 80s beats makes for great times and I love the intensely melancholic video juxtaposed with the joie de vivre of the song. Put this on and guarantee a smile.
In no way is this meant to be a summary of what music Kat always listens to; rather its more what I can glean off her exhaustive list, which is probably why I’m going to finish things off on what I would consider a high and what she would consider a complete tune, even though it's not Kate Bush. It is, however, an amazing recipe for success. Take one boyband, add a banging drum machine and a breathy “break it down” bit and Bob’s your uncle.
As Kathy would say; “I’m not going to lie to you, it’s pretty immense.”
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
I am however going to share with you a “music portrait” of someone who, aside from demanding a mention on here, has been a guiding angel overflowing with music gems she occasionally lets fall from her grasp into my sweaty palms. I’m going to share a few of them here with you. Happy now Kathy?
Kathy very sweetly gave me her beautifully titled “I want some peace now please” Spotify playlist to help get through the arduous times that tend to comprise working in the university library, featuring the glorious Bon Iver in liberal amounts, the Postal Service and Simon and Garfunkel among others. However, in terms of sheer cheesiness melting into spine-tingling ballad-y goodness, you can’t get much better than Celine. In Las Vegas. Oh yes, I went there.
Let’s get washed away with some epic, blood curdling Quebecois hollering.
Continuing in this vein of divas bringing out the uplifting power ballad, I feel it’s an appropriate point to turn to the Queen herself, Madonna, in her slightly Gothic, late ‘90s, edgy phase.
Not only does this song feature on the aforementioned playlist, but it was also a soundtrack to my time well spent in France. Many an afternoon spent clutching a can of cidre and watching the sun drift hazily over the snow capped Alps were soundtracked by this haunting music. Lovely strings.
Of course, the musical portrait can’t be all slow and introspective. A moment spent with Kathy is a moment spent in roughly 1987, which is why The Cure had to be included. Massive thanks have to go to her for sharing this delicious little number with me; Robert Plant’s yowling vocals over the irresistible 80s beats makes for great times and I love the intensely melancholic video juxtaposed with the joie de vivre of the song. Put this on and guarantee a smile.
In no way is this meant to be a summary of what music Kat always listens to; rather its more what I can glean off her exhaustive list, which is probably why I’m going to finish things off on what I would consider a high and what she would consider a complete tune, even though it's not Kate Bush. It is, however, an amazing recipe for success. Take one boyband, add a banging drum machine and a breathy “break it down” bit and Bob’s your uncle.
As Kathy would say; “I’m not going to lie to you, it’s pretty immense.”
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Friday, 26 March 2010
Les Chansons D'Amour
The other night I was introduced to the broodingly sexy Louis Garrel by my most cosmopolitan friend.
Pwoargh.
Fair enough, the dress code may have been pyjamas rather than little gold dress, and the encounter through the blinking LCD laptop screen than in person, but his appearance at French film night has sparked yet another raging crush ( I’ll get over the fact he’s shacked up with Carla Bruni’s big sis and their African baby. Eventually). With liberal bowls of all things naughty and nice, accompanied by fragrant mugs of peppermint tea, the scene was set for Christophe Honoré's 2007 ode to
Not only are there a fair few frisky scenes as well as Garrel looking edible in midnight blue velvet, but the film makes like a more intense froggy version of Glee, with gorgeous Gallic wording taking the place of Hate on Me and a raw French sexuality that the candy-striped Americana of Schuster and co can’t touch.
A scene which struck a particular chord was, what else, but the close of the film, with Garrel swinging off a balcony with his little mate (watch the film) and luscious lyrics sprouting up all over the shop.
Don’t watch the clip if you don’t want to, but take heed that J’ai Cru Entendre (I thought I heard – thanks Leila Mate) features such divine lyrics as
Je suis beau, jeune et breton
Je sens la pluie, l'océan et les crêpes au citron
(I am handsome, young and Breton
I smell of the rain, the ocean, and lemon pancakes)
…and
Aimes moi moins, mais aimes moi longtemps
(Love me less, but love me longer)
So many things sound better in French, don’t you think? A perennial example being déchets, which means rubbish in English. Apologies for any potential dire translations.
I hope that a) I haven’t ruined the film for you and that b) your tastebuds are sufficiently intrigued to potter to your nearest library/rental/casual French friend and get a hold of this delight. It’s worth it for the Garrel cheekbones alone.
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog.
Tuesday, 23 March 2010
Animal Collective
An ode to the immenseness of the top picture in all its jowly-smiley wonder is that it has , somewhat deliriously, lead me to present a collection of some adorable animal snapshots. Hopefully this blog won't disintegrate into a Hallmark-esque confection of bunnies in bonnets and bulldogs sprouting witticisms. However, there's always room for a few more smiling dogs (wearing fancy dress) juxtaposed with some sulky felines.
Still not sure about the unicorns.
Pictures either property of The Miranda or the offspring of the World Wide Web.
Still not sure about the unicorns.
Pictures either property of The Miranda or the offspring of the World Wide Web.
Sunday, 21 March 2010
So sentimental
On a trawl through the beauteous pages of the Guardian’s music section online, up popped a cheeky interview with French rock gods Phoenix,who are not only enjoying a blaze of success with their latest album Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix AND as a well deserved Grammy, but are also apparently providing musical inspiration to under-tens across the world. They referenced this adorable video as “something that would bring a tear to the eye of a Nazi Officer.”
Je suis complètement d’accord.
Apparently also tweeted by Kylie (her opinion’s got to count for something), this YouTube bounty features a gaggle of elementary school children singing their little hearts out to Phoenix’s Lisztomania with more emphatic hand gestures and soaring melodies than all of Mariah Carey’s greatest hits. I wouldn’t say I’m normally in the habit of publishing the latest YouTube phenomenon but this is one deserved exception.
It’s a double whammy - I’m currently also loving this Holy Ghost! Loves Paris remix siphoned off an always fabulous Kitsuné remix compilation (number 2, fyi). Throbbing bass and dancing synths give it an almost Friendly Fires feel.
Read the rest of the interview here AND get 8 live tracks performed by Phoenix in Sydney completely free!! There’s nowt like a freebie.
On a completely, completely different note, I don’t think you could get any further from Phoenix and small school children than this next track.
Featuring all of the Young Money lot (aka my dream crew), and the immortal lyrics “Call me Mr Flintstone, I can make your bedrock”, it is SUCH a terrible song that it went right round the back of the scale of awfulness and bounced back out at amazing. Currently dominating that elusive half an hour in the Exeter clubs where they put on Rihanna, then Iyaz, followed by JLS, it’s also got Drake in it, which immediately makes it immense in my book. With a banterous video depicting a day-in-the-life of Young Money, crammed with strategically placed hotties, red phone boxes and the yummy Lloyd hiding behind a fridge, it’s as catchy as lice in a nursery. Just try and stop yourself jiggling about like a fool.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog
Je suis complètement d’accord.
Apparently also tweeted by Kylie (her opinion’s got to count for something), this YouTube bounty features a gaggle of elementary school children singing their little hearts out to Phoenix’s Lisztomania with more emphatic hand gestures and soaring melodies than all of Mariah Carey’s greatest hits. I wouldn’t say I’m normally in the habit of publishing the latest YouTube phenomenon but this is one deserved exception.
It’s a double whammy - I’m currently also loving this Holy Ghost! Loves Paris remix siphoned off an always fabulous Kitsuné remix compilation (number 2, fyi). Throbbing bass and dancing synths give it an almost Friendly Fires feel.
Read the rest of the interview here AND get 8 live tracks performed by Phoenix in Sydney completely free!! There’s nowt like a freebie.
On a completely, completely different note, I don’t think you could get any further from Phoenix and small school children than this next track.
Featuring all of the Young Money lot (aka my dream crew), and the immortal lyrics “Call me Mr Flintstone, I can make your bedrock”, it is SUCH a terrible song that it went right round the back of the scale of awfulness and bounced back out at amazing. Currently dominating that elusive half an hour in the Exeter clubs where they put on Rihanna, then Iyaz, followed by JLS, it’s also got Drake in it, which immediately makes it immense in my book. With a banterous video depicting a day-in-the-life of Young Money, crammed with strategically placed hotties, red phone boxes and the yummy Lloyd hiding behind a fridge, it’s as catchy as lice in a nursery. Just try and stop yourself jiggling about like a fool.
© Miranda Thompson 2010
DISCLAIMER: The video links hosted on my blog are not being presented as my own. If you believe that the copyright in your work has been violated through this post, please contact me through the blog
Thursday, 18 March 2010
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