Banksy Print Featuring Dorothy Getting Searched by the Police (via startmeup)
This reminds me of the time I came home from a magical land — and committed a felony in the process. Thankfully I was not searched.
(Also, two favorite pop culture phenoms in one place! I love this.)
The NYT’s at least a year late to this trend (but what else is new?); I first read about it last summer. These are the bags I was referring to in my post about shopping in Cartagena, although most of those were in day-glo colors. I’m glad that M. showed me the absurdity of buying something simply because I knew it was Cool with a capital C but … I am woman! I am weak! Seeing them again makes me think I should have snapped one up when I had the chance. They’re $430 here and $30 there. Let me say that again: they’re $430 here and $30 there.
(Suckers!)
Karin Nelson refers to it as a “cult item” in the New York Times.
It was featured in the latest ”In Good Company” section of the J. Crew catalog.
Anne Slowey of Elle called it “the iconic tribal bag.”
What’s the fashion statement that’s causing all the buzz? Created by the Wayuu tribe of Colombia and Venezuela, the Mochila bag is the latest addition to our must-have summer shopping list!
My guide to Cartagena for You Fucking Rock Friday
Cartagena has been on my bucket list forever now. Husby & I were thiiis close to spending New Year’s there (family plans diverted us). So last month, when Guest of a Guest asked me about travel trends, I said “Cartagena is huge!” The following week, the NYT labeled the city “Latin America’s hippest secret” in this gorgeous article exploring the relationship between Cartagena & Gabriel Garcia Marquez (one of my favorite authors). So imagine my svoonsvoonfaint when Nora of NoraLeah.com submitted this beautifully comprehensive guide to the city as a YFRF! Thanks & spanks, my love! xx, Vie
Back-lit in the dim hallway and staggering under the weight of bloody carcasses, these butchers looked like something out of a Hollywood horror film.
A week ago Monday we spent the morning in el Mercado de Paloquemao en Bogotá. The capital city sits high up in the Andes in the middle of “la sabana,” a plateau that boasts some of the best agricultural conditions in the hemisphere. In the central market, abundance overrunneth.
Traveling makes me think of my dad. He always made it an adventure, as good dads do. There are certain traditions I keep alive, if even just for myself.
When I spotted pelicans on our boat ride, I recited to M., “A wonderful bird is the pelican. His mouth can hold more than his belly can.” Dad used to recite it to me in a funny posh voice every time we saw a pelican, and it always made me smile.
When M. bought me an ice cream pop, I offered him “taxes.” It’s only right.
Whenever I was feeling particularly good, I cried, “I’m as happy as a grig!” I’m not sure where and when this tradition started, but it’s been the ne plus ultra of traveling joy for decades now.
And when we boarded the plane to leave Cartagena, I asked M. to take this photo. My dad always told me to “wave to your adoring fans!” when boarding or disembarking planes the old-fashioned way. And I did. It was (and still is) a bit embarassing, but in the very best way.
Last meal in Cartagena: pan de bono — cheesy, airy buns, a breakfast staple — and pastry stuffed with chicken and yuca, as well as foamy, fresh-blended juices.
La Esquina del Pan de Bono, Cartagena. 05.03.2010. 8 am.
A must-stop!
Our last evening in Cartagena, we went to La Vitrola, one of those inevitable stops where all tourists, Colombian and otherwise, gather (classic restaurant + 400-year-old yellow mansion + live music). The vibe was cozy and fabulous, the Havana Club mojitos were just as they should be, the food was merely alright. The issue is that they’re trying to be too fussy for their own good. For example: a shrimp and avocado salad was ruined by bitter lettuce and unseasoned tomatoes. When you’ve got some of the best shrimp and avocado in the world at your fingertipes, it takes a special effort to eff it up. But the coconut milk in my seafood stew was slurp-worthy and M’s sea bass in tamarind sauce was just fine (though the one at Donde Chucho was mejor).
After a few days of a stomach bug / “cleansing,” I was starved for sugar. We ordered two desserts: flan and a chocolate & white chocolate torte which was, no lie, frosting cake. The whole damn thing was thick creamy frosting. (The Colombians LOVE sugar. You’ve been warned.) It was too much, even for my insulin-deprived blood — proof that I was not yet fully recovered, as I’ve been known to eat frosting straight from the tub (when I was a naughty kid staying with my grandparents, I’d steal a frosting tub from the pantry and hide it in my room, eating my way through it with my fingers over a few days). I had another mojito instead.
Shopping at Las Bóvedas, converted dungeons in Cartagena’s Old Town.
I was excited by woven cross-body bags in day-glo colors with lots of fringe but I made the mistake of telling M. that they sell for $400+ in the US (I think Lauren Santo Domingo imports or at least has promoted them on Style.com.)
“That’s the only reason you want them,” he told me.
“NAH-UH!” I said.
But then I looked deep in my soul and realized he was right (did not tell him so, but that goes without saying).
I am not a woven cross-body bag in day-glo colors with lots of fringe kind of girl.
I’m ok with that.
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