Marc Jacobs, Designer Tourist.

I'm sick of everything having to do with the J-Word, the R-Word, the A-Word, and especially the C-Word (Not THAT C-Word, pfft).
So, I'm taking a break to write about something pleasant, well, two pleasant things: Tourists and Marc Jacobs.

I'll start with Tourists:

My friend Sandy Dunwoody brought this news story to my attention today, "A white tiger mauled a zookeeper to death at a New Zealand wildlife park Wednesday as a group of tourists watched in horror, police say."

What got me thinking was not the horrible image of a zoo keeper becoming tiger meat, nor was it the fact that white tigers are the world's deadliest creatures (first, Sigfried and Roy, and now this!?!?). What really caught my eye was the phrase, "a group of tourists watched in horror."

Have you noticed this? News stories very often begin with groups of tourists witnessing horror, or stumbling upon rotting corpses in national parks, or standing idly by as crimes are committed.
They never DO anything, they are always just naive, slowly acting standers-by.
Poor tourists, they have such a bad name.
You know, I looked it up and tourists means,
"One that makes a tour for pleasure or culture."
So, since when has tourist been synonymous with "camera-wielding-culture-ruining-lazy-crime-witnesser"?

This is a call to action for every tourist out there.

I wanna read an article that opens with, "Group of tourists cure cancer."

Now, Marc Jacobs:

Take a look at these:



These are two designs from Marc Jacobs's 2009 Resort line.

Now, I know fashion designers are notorious for doing things like hot gluing dried noodle to 80 pounds models and sending them down the cat walk, and every season there is always more than one designer who makes me wonder whether or not he or she is in touch with reality, but there is a handful of designers I can always rely on to design real-people clothes, Marc Jacobs being one of them.

Resort lines are summer clothes of the filthy rich, and I was excited to take a peak at what M.J. had in store for me to lust after this season. As you can see above, my heart was promptly broken.

WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?

If Marc Jacobs were to walk into this room now and say to me, "Anni, I want you to wear these bow pants I created while tripping on acid," I'd say no... well, I might say yes, because what an amazing story, but that is NOT the point.

The point is that I'd really love to see these pants in action this Resort season.

Too bad I don't go to any resorts.

Hmm... maybe in Florida.

I'll keep ya' updated.

Speaking of Florida: 24 days until I go!?!?!?

Ok, back to work. Ciao Ciao!