Is it just me or is the string back bikini the hottest thing on a girl at the beach?! In saying this there are several pre-determined conditions:
A) The girl must be tanned, I cannot stress this enough. For importance of tanning consult my good friend at Six Foot 9 and Alen at A Lense Diary (excuse his radical 80's name). Both of these knowlegable fellas may as well be the honarary Deans of Tan University (TANU) for their contributions to the cause, if such a position or university existed (it would probably be located at Mid Curl Curl car park). Their motto is 'Tan or Die', or 'Tan and Die', one of the two, I'm not quite sure.
B) The girl must be a nugget (for more information on nuggets, go back in your mind to 1992, re-watch Encino Man, then we'll continue). Pauses... looks at watch... [smirk] I KNOW RIGHT?! [high 5].
This attire is not complimentary on just any beachgoing lady. On many it may look like you're trying to cut clay with the protective plastic still on the outside. To be clear, must be a beach nug to start with. I cannot stress this enough.
C) These are not necessary but definately help; tiny bikini bottoms, surfboard under arm (may also be skateboard), killer attitude.
Any girls who fit the bill may leave their number below. I'm going to go cry now because I'm missing Sydney summer.
I was informed by a relative last night that I blog about stuff overseas alot, when in reality theres so much to be stoked about in Sydney (as a side note, she also made me accutely aware that I'm a 23 year old dude living at home with my parents). So as a remedy to the first problem and a homage to the first, here's my favourite places in Sydney at the moment.
After divulging such info it's likely I won't be able to walk the hard streets of Sydney for a while (either due to the exclusive awesomeness of the information or my obviously inflated sense of self importance) and as such will be moving to New York, no biggie.
Suffice to say last weekend, being my last in Sydney, was a blinder and was full of all my favourite things (like Oprah's favourite things except all the audience gets is a hangover and scabs on their elbows). Let's do this.
Captain Billy's Crab Shack
Has to be my favourite shop in Bondi, seriously legit old school pool and cruiser skate decks, stocks Nike SB range, and there's an awesome Tee in there with a decal of a woman crying saying "If only my boyfriend would skate". Radical. If it's owner Lucienne Wunderlich is doing something wrong it's beyone me what it is. One of the mots picked up a beautiful Vision Gator pool deck from 1986 on sunday and we drove immediately to my new favourite skating hill to give it a session, long story short, he looked good. Stylin' even! Whats stylin' you ask? Take it away Mitch...
There's a clip thaty'll get a child star laid way into his late 20's/third stint in rehab. Well done sir.
Eau De Vie
I wouldn't mention this bar but apparently it's been written up as the some 'best hidden bar' or 'super secret find' or something lame in an SMH good food/drink guide so it isn't my fault if you see a guy there in a Zanerobe tee. Where to start, crystal scotch tumblers, private bottle lockers, the nice bloke who seats everyone, extensive cocktail knowledge, and the radical water dispenser. That being said the most important think you need to know about Eau De Vie is that he is your number 2 greaseman (number one sitting in my backyard bubbling away waiting to strike). If you don't know what I mean you're probably not one of my readership of 7.
Yum Cha
Every one has their favourites, like asking Californians about mexican food, or New Yorkers about pizza, Yum Cha is one of the things I'll miss most about Sydney, some seriously efficient asian. Sea Treasure in Crown Nest know what they're doing, as do the brothers from other (asian) mothers down at the Fish Markets. But if you find that at 2am you have a drunken hankering for some MSG head on down to Golden Century near Chinatown and ask the 'eldest statesmen' to sort you out. Perhaps even cover yourself in moist towelettes and profess that you 'can't even see', because no matter what state you enter in you'll exit happy.
Spank Records
Just off Taylors Square, I only went to spank for the first time on the weekend. Rolling past the punters still kicking on from the night before, past the homeless dudes asking for change looking jeasously at the messed up punters, and into a haven of radical unheard tunes. A vinyl shop with decks up set up for personal listenig is a great way to lose an hour. I don't profess to have a great musical knowledge but I do like good music. So although I didn't see one name I knew, the staff notes on the dust covers were a good guide, 'spacey dub with vinyl scratching. nice' definately put me onto a good one.
That's enough for now, not because I'm over typing, but because I'm am at my job gettin paid, and here's a free tip; they don't pay me to blog, no matter how much this will later be referred to as the new new testament. Haters gonna hate.
I'll leave you with some pics of a truly monumental skate that was indulged in on saturday that involved pissing off many cab drivers. First up we have a mot getting a nice little boardwalk barrel with fresh vinyl in hand. Killer saturday.
In other news, St James church has got some seriously smooth paving out front for those with wheels 80dpi and softer.
Finally, the ever elusive land barrel, watch this space, soon to be a major national sport.
Because it's sunday, and we all know what that means. The divisive day, the day of hangovers and church, that day before hell starts again, the day for recapping, the day for afternoon beers and golf. Sunday is the day of optimism where a man can be whatever he wants to be, old friends get together and act like they were 12 again while young kids fail to relalise the importance of the day that will later mean so much. I looked up 'Sunday' in the textbook of life and saw the play-by-play of morning coffee, midday skate (with a few cheeky car barrels coming soon), and afternoon golf overlooking the beach. Gold star for me.
Sunday throwback tunes, because I also had some time to mine through the ever growing music library.
Sunday's just the day for appreciating life. Speaking of which
I know what you're going to say but it's already too late. 'A guest blogger, you must be crazy, don't dilute this stream of awesomeness with an outside influence'. But never fear humble and extremely loyal readers, this posts collaboration comes in the form of some audio/visual delights from none other than the lady killing, cocktail chillin, half head shavin, celeb blog bravin, moon man. I'm just assuming the number of people who frequent this here awesome blog is somewhere between 7-8 in which case you all know who I'm talking about. If no, move to Sydney and join our group of mates, hangovers are shared, banter is A grade, so are the ladiessss*, and if you did your math right earlier you'll know there's a midget in the group.
Anywho, this little gem brings together the three creative forces I've been enjoying recently, as can be seen below, illustration, good tunes, and hot chicks (because a beautiful woman is a work of art, wink face).
*Quality of ladies is subject to change at anytime without notification from Revere The Radical management. No responsibility is taken for stress/friends razz caused by association with sub par ladies.
Because we all feel a little introverted sometimes. Because have we all not wondered what it would be like to dabble in auto-erotic asphyxia? It's the little things in life, the falling leaf, the single tear, the broken heart, the unsighted friend mouthing "what the fuck?!"
Check out the gents chowing down on some hefty barrels sin board. NOM NOM NOM. Seems Mike 'The Wizard' Stewart is pretty handy without that cooler lid he carries around.
Excuse the cropped video. No idea how to resize that bad boy. But lucky for you they're surfing Pipe so they'll only be heading left. You'll only lost sight of them when they get (as Brucy would say) 'soooooo deep in the barrel, it's amazing they come out the other side'.
At first I was bored, then I was into the tune, then I kept wanting to watch the guy draw longer, it's mesmerising. If had this guys artistic talent and choice in music I'd be way more scene than I currently am, and probably wear way tighter jeans. I may even move out of my parents house and live with artistic like-minded friends, who knows, stranger things have happened.
Winter blows. The Australian snow is mucho average, its raining, and every day there's new photos in the news of people finding ways to avoid the Northern summer like they have no concept of how average it is in Sydney right now. Eff.
To prove my point, look at this photo of a punter catching some rays in England yesterday, then look out the window (unless you are in the Northern Hemisphere, in which case 'tan's pull the fan's').
We all know Oakley's Frogskins are severely radical. I can remember purchasing my first pair in Miami with a couple of the gentlemen, we all got different colourways, walked out onto Lincoln St, cruised past all the people drinking afternoon mojitos, took a right down Ocean Drive, and felt pretty damn cool (see photo below, regardless of whether I actually look cool, I felt like the Fresh Prince). The best part was that this was when they were re-released in 2007 and you couldn't get them in Australia yet so all the boys back home were frothing to get their hands on a pair, which they eventually did, but the bandwagon sign was already posted up (and there's nothing worse than thinking you're fresh then finding out your friends knew about it ages ago).
For those lovers for all skin that is froggy James Jarrett, a bloke with time, patience, and an even greater appreciation for shades than Miles Davis, has posted his collection of Frogskins online for $38,000. The set of around 70 includes a full set Supreme kits, Kaws bangers, Joel Madden's personal pair plus the rarest Frogskin on the market - The Eastern Boarder 3D (limited to only six pairs in the world). For an interview with the guy and his motivation and strategy behind the collection, check here.
Rappers and Hip-Hop artists are a dime a dozen, and for that we should be grateful because amongst the "yeah bitch you sure gon git it when I make that cash, blah, blah" crap there's many a gem. Who, six months ago, would predict how fast people like Theophilus London, Kid Cudi, and Drake would rise to be best sellers? They're the new kids on the block but they're becoming mainstream as hell real fast, and by that I simply mean that they're getting massive exposure. However for every guy that makes it, which these guys have through pure skill, there's got to be 1000 'lil', 'big', or 'young' (insert other name) artists going on about about the rides they dont have, champagne they dont appreciate, and chicks they could never get unless they scored a recording deal.
Gilbere Forte is just appearing on the radar, in that he's getting enough exposure for someone in Australia to hear about a dude from Philadelphia. He mixes, sings, and produces, which is in an admirable thing in todays music world. His mixtape 87 Dream is awesome from what I've heard off it, and like the first time I heard London's This Charming Mixtape, there should be an exciting release from him in the near future.
If you havent seen Fired Up! get on that stat or you'll be out of the loop in hangover banter for the next month. You'll be prohibidado. I said it in spanish, how much clearer can I be.
And thats just the cut scene at the end. If you aren't quoting the whole movie in the next week we're done.
Come to think of it if you haven't been watching Peak Season as well we can't be friends anymore.
Wait, am I sure about that? *Stares at Amanda* EVER.
It's hard to place the appreciation of who is pushing the envelope of extreme sports at the moment. On one hand you have people like Rob Dyrdek and Kelly Slater with their Street League and Rebel Tour respectively, and on the other you've got Red Bull, throwing some serious events like the X-Fighters and No Limits contests. All of these ae promoting tatted up dudes to go bigger and harder, which is awesome. But is it necessary? No matter how hard they go, no matter how many feet Travis Pastrana jumps in his rally car, a well made video with crisp shooting, soundtrack choice, and heart will always win. On opposite ends of the spectrum, Endless Summer II and Modern Collectve, stylistically they look amazing, and with a story/soundtrack to boot. At the end of the day we're always going to sit back down and watch the enduring favourites over Fuel TV anyway. Thats why I was so chuffed when I saw this (even though Red Bull do have their finger in it), it takes the same old shit and makes you say 'wow' again. Like that time I bought the underwear where your junk becomes the trunk of the elephant.
"Hey baby I got a surprise for you"
"A sexy surprise?"
*whips off pants and makes an elephant noise*
Sigh *rubs bridge of nose*
Pretty cool huh?! Pun intended... and executed. I'm out
The constant back and forth of the ocean doesn't seem to bother you anymore as you effortlessly roll up the hem of your chino's, give yourself a 'Han Solo' wink in the mirror, and head up onto the deck, grabing a bottle of vintage Krug along the way.
'Maybe I should give it a rest, perhaps its a tad arrogant' you think, as the dusk sky appears as you come up on deck. The fine bead of the champagne quickly quells your inquiry as you realise that never can too much justice be done for this level of opulence. For, after all, the man standing atop this fine craft must be the most successful, and impecibly tasted man around. Luckily for you, there is no other man around, sitting offshore Monaco/Marbella/Montauk (as its really all the same to you), you drink in just how awesome you are.
Gray Design and Strand Craft have come together to produce what I believe to be the most beautiful super yacht to date. The Strand Craft 122 is designed to be opulent inside and arrogant outside, which is lucky, as for those moments when you doubt yourself you can check your awesome reflection against the impecibly maintained hull. LOVELY
Did Iforget to mention that when you accept delivery of your new super yacht between international stints, you don't get a tender as an optional extra, but rather an individually designed Saab or Aston Martin Supercar. I'm running out of arrogant turns of phrase, but will instead revert to dismissive noises and facial gestures which effectively articulate how rich and awesome an indiviual truly is.
A passing boatie slows as you sun yourself
"Hey buddy, how much on of those set you back" he says with a chuckle
As you slide your sunglasses down your nose, raise an eyebrow, and say with a wry smile "If you have to ask..." gegege
I can't tell whether Jonah Hill is a supremely funny dude or I'm just an extremely immature 23 year old. Either way, the rap he gets going in this teaser for 'Cyrus' is classic. In other news, the movie they're promoting looks terrible. If anything watching this has guaranteed my attendance at the next movie either of these two make (John C Reill is in it to), just not this one. It's like when chicks tell you that they 'totally want to sleep with you... just not tonight'. It's a path we've all been down, and we all know where it leads, blue balls.
Not quite sure if what I wrote above implies that Jonah Hill gave me blue balls, think of what I wrote about him and sleeping with babes separately... if you can
Go Skateboarding Day is something I wrote about a couple of months back, because it's a radical idea, and that's what I do here, write about radical stuff, that's where I got the title from, see above. Yep.
Personally I went for a cheeky roll after work, which is a far weaker attempt than what was laid down by this crew in NYC. If theres something more fun than rolling around with a huge crew of likeminded fools then I'd like to know what it is, so I can do it. Choice tune for such an occasion as well.
Long has pet selection been a tedious battle between women coo-ing over the white fluffy rat/dog and you eyeing up the proud looking german half-breed, already imagining it's explosive power on attack, the radical outfits you can get it, and the inevitable cruising (I mean that the creep way) down at the local park. Please notice how I consider the only viable pet a dog... a cat is not a pet, it's an annoying black hole of attention that would best serve as a footrest.
And until now, in man's quest for companionship, these have been our two options, but no more. I've just stumbled across perhaps the coolest idea for a pet ever that is guaranteed to you Vincent Chase quantities of ass down at the dog walk park. I'm almost too stoked for words right now. Introducing everyones new favourite household buddy, Micro Pig.
Can't you already imagine it?! The day arrives, a small, but not as small as you had imagined, box arrives at your house with an instruction 'Give him a good home'. I will, you think.
It's day 1 and you take your new little buddy for his first walk, the beginnings of a close bond between micro pig and man. Walking with your head lowered to avoid excess attention, you feel a nagging hesitation;
"What if people think this is weird, some sort of new fad? Or even worse, what if they don't think I'm worthy of owning a Micro Pig?!"
You raise your head and see a cute girl in cutoff jeans and loose guys Rolling Stones singlet standing ahead of you, mouth agape. Your heart plummets... "OH...MY...GOD...he's so cuteeeeee"
Jackpot
Becoming a big thing in the UK, these radical fellas grow to be 12-14" tall when fully grown, about the same size as a Cocker Spaniel but infinately cooler. They are apparently really clean, can be house trained, and will apprently (and this is the best part) "sit on your lap while you watch TV so you can scratch their bellies" according to the Little Pig Farm UK.
Can you tell by my in-depth Micro Pig research that I'm half way towards a purchase? Because it's happening.
Are you feeling light-headed yet ladies? You will be.
At some stage during our youth we were all in the basement of a friends house sneaking beers from their dad, reading playboys, and argueing over who was better at Mortal Kombat on Super Nintendo. Good Times.
"I feel just like a local god when I'm with the boys, we do what we want"
Because sometimes quietly enjoying a fine oak single malt scotch while listening to the crackling of a cuban rolled cigar just doesnt do it for you anymore. It's just isn't arrogant enough. You need to take it to the next level. But what does the man who has perfected arrogant, and written the book on smarmy do next. Accessorise, thats what. It's the reason a man pays an extra £30,000 for the carbon fibre trimmings on his new Aston Martin while using it as a town car, won't accept his Patek Philip losing more 1/100th of a second per day, and won't settle for anything less than the mose efficient and arrogant method of iceing his scotch. No longer will he be held back by plebeans and their cubes, spheres of ice are the man's way forward.
Last night over a cold fine oak 12 year with a friend I remembered McCallan's Ice Ball machine and how drinking my $13 scotch on cubes just made me feel cheap. And as I wiped the corners of my mouth clean with $100 notes I vowed to never do injustice to fine liquor again.
And that, kiddies, is how aweome is born, along with some kind of gravity and something about copper. I started reading how it works but was distracted by how good I was for drinking fine scotch with an ice sphere. If you don't follow, that's really good.
It's just a collection of the best boner scenes. Sorf of. I'm frothing on the Foals track Spanish Sahara off their new album (yes, I know I use the term 'new' very liberally but I live in a time warp of full time work and hangovers so I can be forgiven for being a little behing the times). Give the song time to build and you'll be in love, plus the visuals are mesmerising. Come to think of it I could repalce 'song' with 'strippers' and still be right. WIN.
You just got a boner at the 4:14 mark didn't you?! Prepare for a full on chubb. The radical track has been used as the soundtrack to the new Entourage Season 7 trailer.
We all have that one friend who is always up on the trends. Probably the first guy to start wearing skinny jeans and cardigans in 2005, moved onto a pair of point toe leather shoes, maybe even a waistcoat in there at some stage. Equally at home in a tall tee and kicks as a pair of tailored chino's and dress shirt. But all this time you're wondering 'Where the fuck does this guy get the money for all this?'. The answer, my friends, is probably blowjobs. It's the foundation of our economy, if only there were more blowjobs we could move on from all this 'recession' business. But I digress.
Next time your scenester mate stops next to you on his fixie (coincidentally the moment you realise that your friend has finally gone too far), flash some of your new man jewelery and push him down a steep hill and watch his shock/jealousy/fuck I wish I had brakes face. Man jewelery is a 'thin ice' subject. As is it's application, one wrong step and it's 'DJ Pauly D in the house' as you realise that rosary beads and dog tags were definately the wrong choice. The right choice, if I may, is this collection from Dark and Dawn from Tyler Durtschi in LA.
This stuff definately deserves the title of radical. Simplicity in design and execution (...insert joke about my game with the ladies last weekend...). Yeah, just like that.
What's going on in the world at the moment? I'll tell you what... Sinkholes, smoking babies (classic), and world cup fever. I'll be the first to admit, I don't follow football, but will definately attempt to watch some of the matches, which makes me a prime candidate for 'bandwagon nube 2010'. But thats fine, the world cup is the base line, not the melody of this post (I also like music, ladies).
Today I ran across one of the best idea's I've seen for fan merchandising. Which inherently means that it will be cool and entertaining for a very brief period of time then become annoying, just like the bandwagon. You can't tell me that there wouldn't be a million photo's of you and your mates in these shirts pissed off your nut in South Africa if this was your home team.
Creatives: Bas van de Poel, Daan van Dam Photographer: Milan Daniels
Awesome ideas like this are so simple that you always think 'I could totally have done that', while the only difference between you and these two Dutch dudes is, and it's a very small fact, that you didn't. The flip side of being out-thought by a bunch of clog wearing windmill fanatics with a simple idea is that it inspires us to give it a go. Flip side again, I'd put money on a 5-minute wave of inspiration followed by a seriously prolonged session of XBox. If in an hour I'm right, you owe me a high-5.
One last note on the bandwagon(ing), obviously the faces on these tee's are fairly notable Dutch soccer stars, but I wouldn't have the foggiest who the are, but I can guarantee they have the word 'van' or 'vaan' somewhere in their names and have smoking hot wives. Because thats how stereotyping works.
EDIT: On re-reading I went back and changed 'soccer' to 'football'. Point proven
Isn't it depressing to see those people that excell in multiple fields, hogging all that acclaim that could possibly be laid on you, if you could tear yourself away from 'Two and a Half Men'. And for those of you thinking "man, what a shit show to watch", beat it, because I'm highly considering turning this blog into a Charlie Sheen fan page but leaving the title the same. He lives the dream... lives it in a bowling shirt.
Adrian Sauvage, menswear designer and photographer, has embarked on a radical project entitled 'This Is Not A Suit' detailing the individualism of sartorial expression through various subjects. In doing this he blends high fashion pieces with street characters and high quality photography, the result is 100% pure, mountain filtered, ligtly sparkling awesomeness.
Shot in Venice, CA, Sauvage attempts to express the individuality of each character by providing the suiting but no directoral influence, allowing the suit to take on a different meaning for the wearer.
Now go forth and do something radical, then when you've succeeded at it imagine your father who used to beat you with a belt as a child giving you his 'don't git cocky boi' look, then go out and master something new. That'll show him.
If, like myself, you find yourself at a loose end from time to time and enjoy getting engrossed in some good bloggage, here's today's tip; If you read only one blog, don't make it this one, make it Bear Grylls.
Talking about Bear Grylls has become a contentious issue when brought up in conversation. Just like politics or religion, we all know you have an opinion, but it's probably best to keep it to yourself if you don't want to end up looking like a wanker. Unless thats your thing, if so, click here. I'm a funny guy, no need to thank me.
If I may have my two cents worth on the life changing issue, yes Bear does things which are clearly all for the camera, and yes he probably does have a team of people to help him out. But on the other hand, watch this and not think it's awesome, and if you don't, go see a doctor because you might have come down with a serious case of "loser", I hear it's going around. The only cure is a wedgy.
In the age of bling and show, big chains, rosary beads, and dog tags do little more than tag the wearer as a prize douche. But this is well covered territory. What about those who wish to have something for the neck that doesn't automatically give the wearer the unnerving urge to tell 'bro's' to 'chug' their 'brewski's'? Here's an option, the good people at Good Wood NYC have provided you with some choice and well styled adornments for your neck.
And here's the best part, order it online and you never have to get off your ass. I'm not trying to make anyone feel lazy, it's entirely understandable, C.S.I. Miami is on tonight, and that show rocks. Although it did lose its mystery when i found the script.
[Scene opens to a panning shot of the everglades, but something is amiss, there is a car half sub-merged in the water]
LATIN DUDE: It seems the victim was dead before the car was put into the water judging by the deep wounds to the groin and neck.
HORATIO: Good, what else can you tell me?
LD: I'd say judging by the outfit he was on his way to some sort of sport practice...
H: Well I guess we'll have to tell his team [slowly takes off sunglasses and looks down at an angle] they'll all be playing injury time.
[Return to panning shot of the Everglades]
MUSIC: YEAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Don't worry they'll get the bad guy, and at one stage you'll yet again be duped into thinking the blond lab girl with the annoying voice that runs seemingly useless tests is hot. Don't be fooled, it say's right here in the script that she isn't.
NOTE: So I may have lied, judging by the amount of rappers wearing Good Wood NYC's product it's bound to feature on Jersey Shore soon. Shit, all is lost.
Do you ever find that you see some things and think 'there are alot more creative people than me around'? I dont know about you but I think that most days, particularly as I make a habit of finding things that make me wonder how the hell someone thought of the idea. My second thought is generally 'Where the hell do they find the time to do these things? Do they get paid for this?'. I'm sure they must, some creative expressions are so elaborate that they must, I mean take the following for example, it's not as though someone just turned on the bedroom light one day and it happened like this...
HUSBAND: "Honey theres something wrong with the... (eyes widen, a happy tear forms)"
WIFE: [running from the kitchen] "What is it? I swear if you got it stuck in your zipper again you can get a taxi to the hospital... (notices light show) Is this what you've been doing up here recently? [walking away] I swear sometimes my father is right about you."
HUSBAND: "Bitch" ENVISION : Step into the sensory box from SUPERBIEN on Vimeo.
When people create something of such beauty you start to think "Hey, maybe there is a god. A god who created the heavens and the earth, man and woman, the ability to love". Then you realise how gay that thought was and remind yourself that he also created tigers, theme parks and Batman. Get your head in the game. Fuck. [Chugs beer, slaps high 5 and leaves].
EVERYTHING! Especially when it involves my favourite word (no point for guessing). Which brings me to the point of this meeting. Being the end of summer we've all switched our board shorts for steamers in anticipation, or reaction to, the cold water pumping glassy winter waves onto our beaches. As I discarded my boardies I had what some in the romantic comedy film industry would call 'the final revelation' (yes, I made that up) in which me and my board shorts realise that our conflict is not greater than our love and we finally give ourselves to one another (in a slow motion scene to the sound of Jeremy Jordan). Romantic in that we have reached the moral of our story; that love conquers all. Comedy in that I am still talking about my boardies.
But this revelation is bittersweet as I realise the terrible state that my boardies are in, after countless surf's, never being rinsed in fresh water, and numerous mid-surf 'you know that attracts sharks, right?!' moments, they are looking considerably worse for wear. The hems on the side have been stitched up by my mum (thats right... ladies), the pattern on the front is barely recognisable, and what was once black is now a questionable purple. Time to put them to rest and find a new partner in crime.
It was then I realised (while tilting my head and eyes up and ever so slightly to the right) that winter wasn't looming everywhere in the world, that topsiders were just going into the glory season. My thoughts turned immediately to my favourite named brand 'Warriors of Radness'. It's the kind of name that should swoop onto the screen with accompanying fireworks and a guy with a handlebar moustache giving you the thumbs up. Their apparel is along the line of 90s hypercolour beach wear, but the one thing I think they do really well are their board shorts, or trunks. The higher up the thigh the shorts go, the more they remind you of Elvis at the beach, and the more they deserve to be called trunks.
You're intrigued, I can tell, the initial thought in your head is swirling around and you think "Is he talking about what I think he is?". Probably not, but I'm definately thinking it too now.
Today I was privy to a most radical revelation (Wayne's World Guitar Riff), one which I will make a concerted effort to transfer into a hobby in the future. Did you know that each year the Playboy 'Playmate of the Year' recieves a free car (with two exceptions)? Neither did I. This isn't an exhibition of my mechanical knowledge (which is limited to my big wheel) but rather to prove that fake boobs and low self esteem can, cometimes, help you win the minor jackpot. Let's all just forget the fact that they probably all sold these cars to fuel their prescription drug habit brought on by too much nipping and tucking. That Hef, what a guy...
In 1964 Donna Michelle recieved the original Ford Mustang in Playmate Pink.
Only to be trumped by Connie Kreski in 1969 with the original Shelby GT500 Fastback, still one of the greatest cars ever made.
A mere two years later (1971 for the non-savant's in the crowd), Hef mixed it up by giving the lovely Sharon Clark this Spectra Ski boat.
Fast forward to 1988, after a period during which many Porsche's and Jaguar's flew out the mansion doors, India Allen recieved this California Countache Roadster, which although looking and sounding like a Lamborghini, is actually a kit car (Hef saved on the badge and splurged on... let's say a Tiger)
Skipping past Anna Nicole Smith and Jenny McCarthy to 1996 when the leggy Stacy Sanches recieved this high priced gem...
Retro Babe: "Awwww it's so cute, but seriously... where's my Porsche?"
Hef: "Ha you always were funny, now you're fired... (noticing massing crowd) GROTTO PARTY"
Skipping Victoria Silvstedt and her boring Porsche Boxster, we reach Heather Kozar in 1999 with her Shelby CSX 4000 Series Cobra. Another classic ride.
And yes, I know that's a man driving the car, get out of my grill.
Finally, skipping to this years Mansion nug Hope Dworaczyk who recieved a BMW S1000RR motorcycle. Look at her sitting on it going "Vroom Vroommmmm... am I doing it right?"
Yes dear, yes you are.
The only selection porcess I can gather from the past selections is one of the following;
A) The girls pick their gift themselves, which speaks alot for the intelligence of playmates (The 1973 playmate got a Volvo wagon)
B) When it comes to selection day minions attempt to deciphes what comes out of gereatric Hef's mouth as he engages in another grotto orgy
C) Both at the same time, because in my mind that's what goes on every day.
You know that moment when you discover that your hero, the one person you look up to for guidance and support, the pillar of your belief, if nothing but a mere human, weak to all the same temptations and tribulations of life as you? Well sack up, because this isn't that moment.
This is like when you saw Rob Dyrdek had produced Rob & Big, possibly the best reality show ever, while still being an awesome skater and all round funny fuck.
This is like when LeBron hit the floor on the court, the crowd goes into hurried whispers right before he stands up, drains a buzzer shot, looks you directly in the eye to make sure you know, he is that good.
Getting all Sartorial on this Friday. I've always been of the opinion that great fashion is all about cut and tailoring rather than bedazzled skulls (you know who you are, die). There's a reason that your favourite T fits like a glove and you refuse to throw it out even once it starts to wear through. Although, judging by what's worn out these days it's probably coming back in vogue. Like me, my popularity is cyclical between 'awesome dude' and 'radical guy', you'd have to ask someone else where in the cycle we are though, I'm too busy being cool.
I seem to get obsessed with certain garments which are very 'flash in the pan', and generally 'out there' enough that I can't pull them off. But what can I say, I got a sartorial boner.
New Zealand brand Stolen Girlfriends Club, who I've only just started to delve into has some righteous stuff. Admittedly the piece that I fancy is a season old, but I never said everything on here would be new, just radical.
A piece like this Two Time Jacket just makes you think 'Born in the USA' kind of cool. If you thought 'George Michael - Faith' you're gay. When I said I wasnt judging, I lied.
And now for the lower half, direct from the scenester boutique hiding on Howard St in NY, are these Nigel Cabourn pant and braces. But they're just the start of the legit menswear available at Opening Ceremony, all available to you at the low low price of your first born child.
*Looks in mirror*
Totally worth it.
PS. Good luck finding the Stolen Girlfriends Club jacket in any of their Sydney boutiques, that ain't happening.
As the lights rise we find our intrepid scientist looking jubilantly at the sporatic array of CD's, bubbling beakers, and expensive equipment strewn across the privately funded lab.
"Sounds of the ocean, rising keyboard synths, funk guitar, it's so goddam simple, why didn't we think of it?" he exclaims looking for his skiddish assistant.
Alas, just a smoke outline of him remains.
Radical song, no? Even if it is super old. Reminds me of summer. *ripple fade to beach babe montage* that's niceee
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