Yellow Pants

I have no idea who this is, but he's totally making it happen. IS yellow the new black? Probably not. But this curried yellow is on the up and up. I like. 

Style Watch: Trade Show Season

I happen to work in the snowboarding industry. Every year in late January retailers, manufacturers, media members, pro riders and randoms gather for the SIA trade show (now in Denver) and ISPO in Munich. Members of the media clamor to capture the upcoming product trends, PR pros try to tell a good story and product line managers run around trying to work out what's going to sell.

Since I'm kind of a snowboard dork, I'm always curious to see what's new, but I don't find it particularly relevant when it comes to predicting trends. What's more interesting to me is what people who are ahead of the curve are wearing and talking about. And when it comes down to it, the best part of trade show season is seeing so many great people. Old friends and new ones gather from all corners of the globe and get together and it's a sight to see.

So, what do I see on the horizon?

Esthera Preda from Peep Show in quilted Burgundy jacket with gold clutch.





















Bonfire Head Designer Shawn Foster in floral and Atmosphere's Chris Prosser keepin' it basic.



















Dave designed the peyote print on the inside lining of the Bonfire Blur jacket for men. He's a boss. Black and red are holding steady.


In general:

COLOR
Lots of foundation colors: Navy, gray, black, denim, brown, maroon/rust red.
Pop colors: Bright red, curry yellow, mellow blue for men, purple for women.

FABRIC
Corduroy is the new denim, but denim isn't going anywhere.
Vintage inspired plain weave fabrics are on the rise.
Shinier fabrics might be on the horizon.

PRINTS
Gingham is the new plaid, but plaid is still in full effect.
Stripes.
Crazy prints are dying in favor of more natural looking affects like faded colors, tye dye inspiration etc.

DESIGN DETAILS
Double zipper pockets.
Baseball inspired design.
Minimalist branding.
Psychadelic inspired design.

I'm sure there is plenty more that I'm missing, but this is a quick snapshot. I'll try to post more photos soon.

Oh My Gosh I love This

Welcome Home Pretty Girl is a new favorite blog. Straight out of Seattle and all style. Sigh... Isn't it lovely?

Are You Ready Boots?

Saturday I drove up to Meadows with my friend Rachel. It was absolutely the laziest snowboarding experience of my life and to be honest, the best part of the day was talking with Rachel in my car.

Nearly 4 years ago my car stereo was stolen out of my Subaru and I still haven't replaced it. It's not that I can't afford a new stereo or even that I don't want one. It's just that not having one opens up a whole new world of conversation. Silence is a void most people prefer to fill. Without music blaring in the background ideas and thoughts, silly jokes and general observations abound. I'm a fan of this. Also, not having a car stereo has prompted me to start singing in the car.

This is still problematic because I only can remember the entire song lyrics to 2 songs: "Happy Birthday" and "Mercedes Benz" by Janis Joplin. I've yet to sing happy birthday by myself in the car, but I have on occasion sung the Janis Joplin song three times in a row without stopping. Eventually I get bored and start singing the random chorus lines that I do know and I end up blending them together in ways that should be against the law. This brings me back to one of the highlights of my car ride with Rachel. She actually remembers song lyrics. Our conversation about secretly enjoying singing even though we have no natural talent for it whatsoever lead to several good rounds of singing in the car and even a tentative plan for Rachel to take my karaoke virginity. The real inspiration for this? Nancy Sinatra. These Boots Were Made For Walking.

Peep the Future: Webisode 1

PMS 1 from peep show on Vimeo.

For the record, I love the Peep Show ladies. Thank you for doing something cool.

Life Advice -- The Steve Jobs Speech at Stanford

Jorie Graham -- Salmon

Salmon

I watched them once, at dusk, on television, run,
in our motel room half-way through
Nebraska, quick, glittering, past beauty, past
the importance of beauty.,
archaic,
not even hungry, not even endangered, driving deeper and deeper
into less. They leapt up falls, ladders,
and rock, tearing and leaping, a gold river,
and a blue river traveling
in opposite directions.
They would not stop, resolution of will
and helplessness, as the eye
is helpless
when the image forms itself, upside-down, backward,
driving up into
the mind, and the world
unfastens itself
from the deep ocean of the given. . .Justice, aspen
leaves, mother attempting
suicide, the white night-flying moth
the ants dismantled bit by bit and carried in
right through the crack
in my wall. . . .How helpless
the still pool is,
upstream,
awaiting the gold blade
of their hurry. Once, indoors, a child,
I watched, at noon, through slatted wooden blinds,
a man and woman, naked, eyes closed,
climb onto each other,
on the terrace floor,
and ride--two gold currents
wrapping round and round each other, fastening,
unfastening. I hardly knew
what I saw. Whatever shadow there was in that world
it was the one each cast
onto the other,
the thin black seam
they seemed to be trying to work away
between them. I held my breath.
as far as I could tell, the work they did
with sweat and light
was good. I'd say
they traveled far in opposite
directions. What is the light
at the end of the day, deep, reddish-gold, bathing the walls,
the corridors, light that is no longer light, no longer clarifies,
illuminates, antique, freed from the body of
that air that carries it. What is it
for the space of time
where it is useless, merely
beautiful? When they were done, they made a distance
one from the other
and slept, outstretched,
on the warm tile
of the terrace floor,
smiling, faces pressed against the stone.