Culture editor Molly Freedenberg hits SXSW for the first time to explore the festival’s extracurricular aspects. For Music Editor Kimberly Chun’s take on SXSW’s tunes, click here.
I made it onto my new friend Rachel’s blog at KCRW! Check out “Best Non-Musical Moment.” I can assure you, the feeling’s mutual.
Me and my new SXSW BFF Rachel Reynolds, closing out the weekend with Chromeo.
Culture editor Molly Freedenberg hits SXSW for the first time to explore the festival’s extracurricular aspects. For Music Editor Kimberly Chun’s take on SXSW’s tunes, click here.
Some of my favorite non-musical moments at SXSW:
The “Yard Sale”
Ironic and slightly racist Texas T-shirt? Priceless.
My first day in town, my host (a friend of the family) and I came across what can only be called a Yard Sale in the most literal definition of the word. What this really was? Entrepreunerial brilliance. Rather than curse the thousands of indie rockers who descend upon his city every year, one Austin resident decided to capitalize on it. Before SXSW, he scoured thrift stores for hipster-friendly items like brightly-colored cowboy boots, ironic T-shirts, snap-front Western shirts, and leather jackets. Then he set up his wares in his front yard for three days during Southby – and priced everything three or four times higher than he paid. It was one-stop Southby-chic shopping. If only those green calf-length boots came in my size …
If only I wore a 9B.
Culture editor Molly Freedenberg hits SXSW for the first time to explore the festival’s extracurricular aspects. For Music Editor Kimberly Chun’s take on SXSW’s tunes, click here.
I’m finally back from South by Southwest. And by “back” I don’t only mean “in San Francisco.” The latter happened early Sunday morning. But I only recovered, brushed my teeth, got out of bed, and unpacked last night. Yes, it was that much fun, and that exhausting. (Yes, I also have a habit of squeezing every bit of fun out of every moment I can, which often leads to days of bed rest, but that’s another story…)
Now that I have some time to reflect, I can say deciding to go was one of the best ideas I ever had. (Way better than paying $180 to see Buffy the Musical.) First off, Austin’s rad. Now I completely understand why everyone I know is moving there. Rent is cheap. People are interesting. It’s got the politics, art, music, and culture of Portland and San Francisco but without the rain and gloom of either; and it’s got the weather of Los Angeles, but without the smog, the sprawl, or the especially high ratio of douche-bags to cool people our sister to the South has got.
The unofficial SXSW (female) uniform: summer dresses and cowboy boots.
And second, the festival itself. How do I explain this? It isn’t simply that there’s music everywhere. It’s that everyone is there because they love being there. This is summer camp for music geeks. Or Sturgis. Or (don’t kill me for saying this) Burning Man. Southby isn’t just a big, spread-out Coachella or Bonnaroo – both of which are contained, commercial festivals in the traditional sense. This is more of a temporary culture – where every venue is dedicated to playing music from morning to night, and where every person there is so dedicated to music they want to spend several days immersed in it.
In fact, I found the experience of being at Southby much the same as being at Burning Man: intending to go one place and ending up at another, running into people I never expected to see, leaving the house at 11 a.m. with the intention of coming home for dinner and not seeing my bed until 4 a.m. Drinking early, forgetting to eat, thinking I’d found the most inspiring thing I’d ever seen and then, two blocks later, finding something even more inspiring. Sure, at Burning Man it’s guerrilla art or random performance or the joy of seeing Barbie Death Camp for the first time – at Southby, it’s rock bands that sound like Led Zeppelin (Parlour Mob) or discovering the punk band I’m listening to actually sings one my favorite song on an old, unlabelled mix tape (Meat Men) or finding my way into the Perez Hilton party (not as exciting as it sounds) with a writer friend from L.A. But the fundamental feeling is the same: riding the wave of the unexpected. I bet you could even draw parallels between relationships at Burning Man – how some are formed and how some are ruined – and those at Southby.
And just like Burning Man, Southby isn’t for everyone. The pace is breakneck. The beer is unlimited. And if you don’t like crowds, walking, or loud noise, it could be your biggest nightmare. But for people like me, it’s an absolute fantasy.
Which is to say, yes, of course, I’m going to go again. But I’ll do a few things differently. Here’s my advice for other Southby virgins, based on what I learned this year:
Culture editor Molly Freedenberg hits SXSW for the first time to explore the festival’s extracurricular aspects. For Music Editor Kimberly Chun’s take on SXSW’s tunes, click here.
Often, when I embark on a trip, I assume everyone else around me is going where I’m going. Usually I’m wrong. But sometimes – as with Burning Man and, apparently, South by Southwest – I’m right.
It was harder to tell who was headed to Austin on the first leg of my flight, but it was obvious on the last leg from Denver to Austin. The girl in the beat-up T-shirt, suspenders, and A-line skirt with matching A-line hair? SXSW. The Baby Boomer with surprisingly stylish shoes who was assigned to A-line girl’s seat on the plane (and won the battle)? Not so much. I know Austin’s pretty hip, not just by Texas standards but by anyone’s, but it felt safe to guess that the long-haired, pasty-faced guy with a stylie pattern embroidered on his blazer was headed my way. Same for his companion, with her choppy bob and screen-printed messenger bag.
Perhaps I should’ve bought myself an ironic trucker hat instead.
By Ailene Sankur
What would make me want to spend a year of my life living in Concord?
Love.
Cheap rent. ($350/month to live with said person I loved, and another roommate.)
Bomb-ass Mexican food.
I am about to say a very controversial thing: I have yet to eat a truly good burrito in the city. I have been up and down Mission, up and down Valencia, and to El Beach Burrito by my house in the Sunset, and found nothing but decent — bordering on good — burritos. I am not impressed. (But am open to, and would really welcome suggestions…)
I don’t miss Concord, besides its tons of parking and wonderfully hot, 90-plus summers, but I do miss that Mexican food. Concord’s Mexican joints make any place in the Mission taste about as authentic as Baja Fresh.
By Colleen McCaffrey
The Financial District’s Belden Alley is what it is: a perfect spot for tourists, out-of-town guests, and lovers of mussels al fresco, the house specialty at Plouf. On a recent visit, my companions and I were served a heaping bowl of the dark-lipped Prince Edward Island offerings, steaming in a magna caude of shallots, bacon, white wine, parsley and cream. We opted for the steamed combo, which mixed little necks in with the mussels Poulette. We realized this was a decadent decision as we fished for the last crustaceans in a sauce so rich it reminded us of a hearty New England Clam chowder, sans potatoes. The lactose-intolerant may want to opt for one of the six other house specialty broth options for their steamers, as the cream in the Poulette was more of a primary candidate than a runningmate. Outdoor seating not at the mercy of car exhaust is rare in this city, so we enjoyed the Parisian dining experience in the lovely alley of Belden Lane, which can get quite busy at the noon hour but is always an afternoon delight. The recommended pomme frites could have been crispier, but after a few glasses of Sancerre, they made for a delectable accompaniment to the heavy Poulette.
Plouf
40 Belden Pl., SF
(415) 986-6491
http://www.belden-place.com/plouf/
By Ailene Sankur
The best brunch in the city isn’t at J’s Pots of Soul or Boogaloos, my friends. It’s at the Legion of Honor, that elegant neoclassical building perched high atop foggy Land’s End (so Hitchcockian), during the press preview for the Legion’s Annie Leibovitz exhibit. (There is a Sunday brunch for the masses, but I doubt you get your own nametag – or a chat with Ms. Leibovitz — at that one.) A pyramid of martini glasses held fresh fruit salad garnished with sprigs of mint. The coffee was delectable. And the bagels – half the size of normal ones — were adorable! Teeny tiny!
The photographer
Brother Philip and Father
By Candice Chan
Wicked flipping awesome! The new Iron Man trailer came out last week and is so good I could watch it backwards while doing a headstand and I’d still want more. Let’s hope the movie can live up to the hype that the trailer has sparked. Regardless, though, Tony Stark is the most badass alcoholic ever. Seriously, there is nothing quite as sexy as a dude who can hold his liquor, build impenetrable armor, and blow up a tank all by himself … AT THE SAME TIME. Drool.
Tom Lenk, who played one of my favorite characters in the later seasons of Buffy (Andrew, the geek villain), takes on Chris Crocker and Diablo Cody in what is perhaps my favorite YouTube parody to date. I swear to blog.
Intern Ailene Sankur discovers what’s been missing from her coffee: more coffee!
Buying coffee at 7-11 the other day (too lazy to find a coffee shop, too scared to drink more of my new roomie’s fair trade organic, $15-per-pound coffee), I found this amazing product. Stok, featured here on the Energy Fiend website, looks like a little creamer packet, but is actually more coffee for your coffee: a potent additive that’s the equivalent of one shot of espresso (FYI, espresso actually contains less caffeine than regular coffee, but still…).
› molly@sfbg.com
GREEN CITY You may be the greenest, most permacultured locavore with a heart made of hemp. You tend your community garden on dates, travel only by biodiesel bus, and make your Christmas gifts from recycled materials rather than contribute to our culture’s overconsumption of resources. But chances are you haven’t thought about how your sex habits are affecting the planet — not to mention your partner. And what better time to think about it than the week of Valentine’s Day, the date when couples feel entitled to sex and singles are saddest about not having any? (Or is that the other way around?… But I digress.)
`Thing is, your favorite dildo may be releasing deadly toxins into the environment. Your discarded butt plug, so small and cute and seemingly innocent, may spend several centuries in a landfill before it degrades — if it ever does. Your vibrator could be the reason for someone else’s unnaturally tiny penis. Really.
The issue with sex toys — one of the more recent industries to be examined through a green lens — is twofold: disposal and toxicity.
The first is the easier, less contentious, and somewhat more obvious issue. Since we’re talking about a variety of objects often made of plastic, PVC, rubber, electronics, and other nonbiodegradable materials, it makes sense that concern has been raised about where sex toys end up and what happens to them when they get there. Just like water bottles and discarded train sets, sex toys made from these materials seem destined to last longer on the earth than any of us will — causing more pain in the long term than pleasure in the short term.
The second issue is whether sex toys are safe for humans, both those who use them and those who may be exposed to them through the environment. The concern here is phthalates, a variety of chemicals most commonly used to soften hard plastics but also found in cosmetics, food wraps, and a number of other ubiquitous consumer goods — and until recently, often used in plastic-based sex toys. There has been substantial research suggesting that phthalates — chemicals not naturally occurring in the human body — are present in 90 percent of Americans’ bodies. Furthermore, scientists believe phthalates can have a detrimental effect on male reproductive development.
"Severe interference can involve incomplete development of the penis, undescended testicles, decreased testosterone levels," Tracey Woodruff, director of the Program on Reproductive Health and the Environment at the University of California at San Francisco, told the Guardian. "There can be lifelong consequences."
Are there counterarguments to all of these worries? Sure. For starters, there’s always the issue of how green to go. Should you worry more about your rubber dildo — which you may keep for 10 years — than about your plastic shower curtain, which you’ll throw in the landfill in three months? Or is this just the latest ecofriendly phase our culture (and media) is going through? And as for phthalates, there are lots of different kinds — and no one is exactly sure what they do or how they do it.
But if you’re anything like Coyote Days, buyer for Good Vibrations, you’ll figure safe is better than sorry. Days said the major sex toy retailer has decided to phase out products containing phthalates, just in case it turns out the chemicals really are as bad as scientists suspect. In particular, Days suggested replacement with silicone varieties, if you can afford them.
And if you’re worried about how well a sex toy will biodegrade, you can always opt for a metal, wood, or glass variety.
In fact, if you’re feeling really ambitious, you can check out the P Aqua from Love Piece, a dildo made from seaweed and water that, while solid at room temperature, can be boiled to oblivion for Earth-friendly disposal. (Though the company asks you to notify it if the dildo has a sour odor. Ew.)
As for Good Vibrations’ future inventory? Day said, "We’re not quite at the seaweed and water level yet." Me either. But I’m hoping for a sushi restaurant tie-in when this thing gets big. Buy one California roll-in-the-hay, get one seaweed sex toy free? I like it.
Comments, ideas, and submissions for Green City, the Guardian‘s weekly environmental column, can be sent to news@sfbg.com.
Back when I was a young girl, we didn’t have fancy things like condom paperweights. We grew our own food. We walked to school. Barefoot. Uphill both ways. And we carried our goddamned condoms in our pockets. Like normal people. Next thing you know they’re going to let women start wearing pants.
If you’re going to spend $16.95 for one condom, I’m thinkin’ you’d better either be rich, or not expect to get laid very often.
By Molly Freedenberg
I don’t what’s going on, but I’ve been hearing about break-ins happening to bands more and more over the past few months. The latest? SF darlings Diego’s Umbrella. Here’s the story, and how you can help, in their own words:
“Hello everybody, Unfortunately we had a bit of tragedy strike while we were on tour in the Northwest as our trailer was broken into and a good deal of our equipment was stolen.
The police have no leads as of yet and many times these crimes go unsolved so we are coming to terms with the reality of the situation. As we are still starving musicians this comes as a huge blow and we are trying to reach out to anybody who can help. If you have ever seen us, heard us, met us, danced with us or laughed with us, please consider the smallest donation to help keep Diego’s Umbrella playing.
They can be sent to:
Diego’s Umbrella
530 Divisadero St. 204
San Francisco, CA 94117
Anything and everything is appreciated
Thanks,
D.U.
To contact:
diegosumbrella@yahoo.com”
DU at the Roxy in L.A. With equipment. See, bands play better that way.
By Colleen McCaffrey
The last time I attended an opening at the ATA gallery I saw an enlightening documentary by Kami Chisholm, FtF: Female to Femme, which I almost missed entirely because the gallery entrance was so obscure, furthered by a dark velvet curtain hanging between the door and the packed auditorium.
But the current exhibit, Katie Bush’s provocative pixel exhibition of genital intercourse animation “Unremarkable People Having Sex,” was much easier to spot, as it was being displayed in the right window gallery amidst red velvet drapes and boas. The display was reminiscent of a Christmas-themed striptease gone awry, but who could notice as animated images of penis, vagina and intercourse flashed across the screen?
How long have I been waiting for this moment? Long enough to start fearing it would never come. But today my MySpace bulletins gave me the best belated Christmas present I could’ve hoped for: the next installment of Planet Unicorn (and yes, this one’s legit).
And while we’re on the subject of bizarre internet TV shows featuring talking unicorns, am I the only person who hasn’t seen Candy Mountain yet?
I’m waiting for some college kid to write a paper on how one “informs” the other. Hmmm?
Intern Candice Chan test drives a seatbelt bag — and decides to stick with the old model.
It goes without saying that seatbelts in cars are all about promoting safety before comfort, and after a weekend with a pink polka dot seatbelt bag by Harveys, that philosophy seems to apply even when the belts have been reincarnated into tote form.
While carrying my happy pink polka dotted seatbelts last weekend, I walked with an undeniable sense of security; if someone tried to bring hurt my way, I’d take them down first with a deftly placed swing of my indestructible purse to their groin. Conceived by Dana and Melanie Harvey while they were installing new seatbelts in their Buick, the bags are an intriguing alternative in a sea of leather bags. They are, without question, sturdy and well-made, but the contentious issues for me lie in their comfort and style.
After my field test, during which I asked several ladies if they would consider carrying a similar purse, it seemed that there was universal agreement: everyone could see how someone else would wear it. Not the kiss of death, but definitely not overwhelming enthusiasm.
They didn’t ask to be made into bags! It’s not their fault!
By Colleen McCaffrey
Female erotica, wine and vegan cookies: no, not a perfect first date, although it would be good a place to take one. It’s that time of the month again: second Saturday, when female and trans literary talents – both well-established and up-and-coming – congregate at Femina Potens for the Award-Winning literary erotic event, Sizzle.
“We like co-presenting those [because] two people can learn a lot by sharing the stage with a hero and then having the same attention and soapbox for emerging artists still developing their own voice,” says host Madison Young, who is currently working on her memoir, The Tale of a Bondage Model, due out this spring.
What?!? Amber Lee Ettinger, Ms. “I Got a Crush on Obama,” didn’t even turn in a ballot?
Up until now, I took her commitment to politics so seriously …
Original title: “I Got a Crush on Free Publicity”
No more coveting thy neighborhood blogger’s togs … now you can own ‘em. Jennine Tamm, the fabulous fashionista behind The Coveted blog, is leaving us – and not just San Francisco “us,” but America “us.” Yup, she’s packing up and following her Liebe to Deutschland, where she’s sure to add all sorts of cute vintage coats and plenty more gray shoes to her wardrobe. But first she’s got to pare down her impressive collection of wearables so she can pack ‘em all. Bad news for Ms. Tamm, but great news for the rest of us, who can purchase her barely-used hand-me-downs here.
The starting bid for this Bebe silk corseted dress is $9.99. Which means you wouldn’t even be hearing about it if I could fit into an XS. Miss Tamm, Sie sind ein kleines Mädchen!
Not feeling the traditional Chinese New Year thing? How about Raindance’s version? The folks responsible for one of the Bay Area’s favorite annual campouts are also behind the one annual DJ event in the city that partygoers make sure they don’t miss: Chinese New Year at 1015 Folsom, which you know means multiple rooms of dance-tastic goodness.
This year features a midnight procession with White Crane Lion Dancers, Santa Cruz Circus, and many surprise performers.
Featured DJs include Raindance favorites Little John and Mozaic, Glitch Mob darlings Kraddy, Edit, Boreta, and Ooah, who all are famous for mixing recognizable tunes in innovative, infinitely danceable ways), my personal favorite DJ Ripple (and that says a lot, considering I don’t listen to much electronica), and LOTS more. Check out the full line-up here.
RAINDANCE 9TH ANNUAL CHINESE NEW YEAR CELEBRATION
Friday, Feb. 8, 10pm, $25 presale, $30 at door
1015 Folsom, SF
info at www.raindancepresents.com
tickets at going.com/chinesenewyear
