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| Like any half-decent works of art, Gingham never imitates life. It can only embody it. |
4th January, Twenty-Twelve (Montreal) Glad you all made it through the liminality of the New Year transition with legs and arms intact and ready to take that great leap into the future. What do you suppose you call that small period of time between your decision to jump and the action of actually flying into clear space? That gap of suspense between the prince getting down on his knees, asking his girl to marry him and her response? What do you call those jitters you get (if you're say a 100 metre Olympic sprinter) from when the trigger is pulled to when the starter's pistol actually goes off? We in the stands see the smoke before we even hear the sound of the gun.
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| "The end of the Game, is the beginning of the Game..." Beckenbauer |
And what do you call that period of time when your lungs have just expanded to their fullest, and are about to deflate? Or that time you spend in an airport lounge between foreign destinations, that No Man's Land of international citizenry where everybody is equal in the pain of waiting for their flight home? Like a gift, where does your mind go between spotting the package and having it's contents revealed? Who cares about which came first: the chicken or the egg. What about what happens in-between?
Who knows? All we can see is that our friend Miranda here was at Big Bang [
see here], the special exhibit at the
Musée des Beaux-Arts from En Masse [
see here]. Talk about celebrating the New Year in style: notice Miranda's laid back posture as she models this River Plate-Purple Gingham Gaucho-style crowd puller. Watch Miranda. There is no other way to kick this year off folks.
So? That gap between last year's Gingham and this year's?
There weren't none.
GINGHAM FOODIE MADNESS CONTINUES...
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| "I don't make public appearances, but you can have my Gingham." |
In a dark corner on New Years Eve, we were able to sneak up on Michael, the chef from Aux Vivres [see here]. He is also known as a bit of a style icon around these parts. I mean, food and style and art, it's all the same, right? His joint specializes in good ol' good-for-you food... Still interested? Good. He wears Gingham as par for the course. We didn't know golf was something you eat.
...TO THE BACK OF THE LINE
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| Girl's in the hood: Gingham gang affiliation on lower St-Laurent. |
One Hundred and Eighty degrees in the other direction along the food chain we have Schwartz's Hebrew Deli a little further south along Boulevard St-Laurent here in Montreal. Known for it's corned beef, I mean, smoked meat sandwiches, it seems not everybody is in town for a delicate veggie-BLT and yoga debriefing.
You can pretty much monitor how well the tourist trade is doing in Montreal at any one time by checking how long the line is at Schwartz's. The only way to tell how stylish they are is to see if any of them has got Gingham.
READY FOR GINGHAM BOOT CAMP?
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| "Grannies wear boots, say--you gotta believe me..." --Ozzy Osbourne |
Spotted somewhere on Blvd St-Laurent. Of course we're not going to tell you where you can get these until we've bought a pair for our granny. This is NYC-style Gingham guys! Boy do they look comfy and protective for those long cold walks of shame back from those dangerous liasons she's having with the new geezer she just met up the street. Give us a few days and we'll reveal the location. There might be a few left.
Got Gingham? send it to gotgingham@gmail.com
Today's caption "...A conspiracy theory"
is first in a series of caption changes brought to you by the Caption Collectif, a fine arts collaboration between the Canadian Secret Service and London Transport.
The Authors on remand.
