the way i feel about this one film in production abroad is how i imagine reporters felt in 1962 getting little dispatches from the cleopatra set (which is to say: i'm INTRIGUED)
the way they are seeding stills out into the world is straight out of an old school press agent's handbook, it's extremely henry c. rogers of them
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today's apartment browsing has somehow led to this unit on central park west that simply feels made of cocaine to me
the sunken living room! the BUILT IN WHITE LEATHER BANQUETTES, the gold trim...i want to wear a halston jumpsuit in here and serve shrimp cocktail and make bad decisions about paint colors
it's been on the market for like almost a year and i have to wonder why but perhaps it is because it absoLUTELY feels haunted by a tragic 1970s socialite
reading a book (nonfiction) that mentions a woman named dovita who did a striptease at the 1939 worlds fair where doves...removed her clothes? and I wanted to know more and can’t find a thing. any sleuths able to find out who she was?
I have so many questions! how did the doves know what clothes to fly off with? were her clothes made of birdseed
i can't stop reading books about venice or watching movies about venice and yet i've been to venice once for two days when i was a teen...what is this about
do you have a place like this that sort of...calls to you? that you will read anything about/watch anything set in? even if you've never been or have only been in a hazy memory?
i realize my weird fascination with venice makes me a pre-raphaelite dirtbag and i am trying to accept it