This falls under the category of truly amazing: Austrian designer Gottfried Mangione actually captured the entire unboxing of his Gelatobaby Patch (as well as other assorted bonus prizes, as you can see.) Do you want one? Think about your ideal flavor combination and drop me a line!
How come in all of my journalism classes, none of my professors ever mentioned that in addition to all the perks of the writing life—like, you know, uncovering rampant corruption or being an advocate for human rights, blah blah blah—how come no one mentioned that someday, somehow, as a working writer, you might get free shoes? And they might possibly be pink?
If I had this information about ten years sooner, I would never, ever have considered that little foray into advertising.
Yep, I think maybe the best day of my career so far was when two pairs of Ecco Biom running shoes—in beetroot and sustainable white yak leather. Yes, yak. Yes, yak—arrived on my doorstep along with an assignment: Run.
Run as far and as fast as you possibly can in a month’s time. Follow the training program developed by Danish triathlete Torbjørn Sindball. Wear these shoes, listen to your feet. And write about it for ID.
Now I’m no Ironman (you’ve tagged along with me on my 25K trail run last summer, and I ran the LA half-marathon in December), but in the last year I’ve gotten more serious about running than I ever have before. And there was something so different about doing this activity I loved and knew was good for me, and truly paying attention to how it felt, how I felt, for my job. And then being rewarded—financially, yes, but physically, too—in the end. And did I mention yet that these pretty pink shoes are absolutely adorable?
You can read all about how I ran, I ran so far away, in “Less Cushion for the Pushin’” over at ID. Coincidentally—don’t you love how every article I link to has a little editorial appendix nowadays—ID has a brand-new editor, one Jesse Ashlock, who was previously my editor at VMAN and has a pretty incredible story about getting in a brutal bike accident but leaving the ER because it was too expensive. Congrats, Jesse (and I hope all your scars ended up looking cool)!
As regular readers of this blog know, I never, ever make mistakes. Except for that one time, but the authorities were never able to prove I was solely at fault. And besides, a few of those kids said they liked spending the night alone in the desert.
All kidding aside, in my excitement to tell you all about the piece I wrote on the Watts House Project yesterday (and probably in my excitement to write it), I didn’t take much time to like, actually read it. But something felt funny in my tummy after I picked up a copy in print. And when I realized my error…well, there’s nothing quite like feeling your stomach switch places with your intestines, is there?
So, um, the famous artist who created the “Love” sculpture that will grace one of the houses of the Watts House Project? The same artist who created a beautiful Love necklace that is being sold to raise funds for that house? That’s Alexandra Grant. One more time: Alexandra Grant. The Alexandra Lange person I attributed all that to in the piece? Well, she’s pretty great, too. But she’s an architectural critic who I was reading a lot while I was proofing my NY architecture guide. I got my freelance wires crossed. And that, my friends, makes me feel like a turd. A supreme turd. With a side of extra turdy sauce.
Since I won’t be able to fully fathom how horrifically stupid I feel until I finish headbutting my laptop later on tonight, in the meantime, I think there’s only one way I know to try and make it up to The Real Alexandra: Manual labor.
You see, Alexandra’s just begun work—with my friend, architect Mike Niemann, who will also probably never let me live this down—on the Cerant house, where the Love sculpture will eventually be. And for the next two weekends, they need volunteers to help with the landscaping and stormwater catchment system (courtesy of my other friends at Materials & Applications). I don’t know how many drought-tolerant shrubs I’ll have to plant to dig myself out of this mess, but gosh darnit, I’m going to try. See you there on May 3; RSVP and more information here.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to Honor Fraser, the gallery that represents the great artist Alexandra Grant, to buy at least 100 Alexandra Grant Love necklaces. I think one of them will look really good next to this gigantic dead albatross around my neck.
I’m especially psyched for this especially long weekend and, my, what a weekend it will be: Friday the 13th, Valentine’s Day and President’s Day all in a row! In all my haste to bake a cake of Abraham Lincoln in a heart-patterned hockey mask, I’d almost forgotten to celebrate another very important milestone: The one year anniversary of this blog.
Yes, it was just over a year ago I said my hellos and welcomes and challenged everyone to make the most of Leap Day (which I ended up spending in Helsinki—wow, has it really been a year?). We’ve been to Denver and Seattle and made a surprise trip to Glasgow, Scotland together. You’ve even spent a long, sweaty summer in New York by my side.
So I’d love to give each and every one of you out there the very first Gelatobaby product, the Gelatobaby Patch.
But seeing as I am a remedial seamstress at best, I think I’d be sewing myself right out of a writing career.
So, the first five readers who drop a comment (or send an email) telling me which of your favorite flavors of gelato you’d like to permanently affix to your clothing will get a custom cone, hand and machine-stitched to a canvas backing, complete with fusing for easy iron-on. Each Gelatobaby Patch is made from at least one piece of fabric snipped from clothing I’ve outgrown from eating too much gelato.
Just post a comment saying which two or three flavors of gelato you’d like me to scoop onto your cone. (Or maybe two flavors and a certain topping? I like a challenge.) Don’t post your address, I’ll contact you via email for that, and I’ll even throw in a Scoop so you can enjoy your Gelatobaby Patch* in fully-branded style.
Thanks to all of you for sticking with me throughout the year. That’s why I want Gelatobaby to stick with you…perhaps on your favorite cardigan.
Have a great long weekend.
*WARNING: Application of the Gelatobaby Patch will not reduce gelato cravings.
In case anyone has been fretting about what to get me this Valentine’s Day, stop your shopping and just buy me this. I think I’d probably wear a medium?
You’ll have to trust me about the fact that I didn’t suddenly decide to print sweatshirts proclaiming my airbrushed love for myself. This is being marketed on Amazon as the I Love Alissa Walker Sweatshirt. It came up in a Google Alert. For a brief moment, after I clicked on the link and before the Amazon page loaded, I thought I had a fan club.
Of course the sweatshirt doesn’t actually exist, and it’s obviously some kind of marketing ploy for custom printing. But there’s no contact information, and the vendor comes up as invalid. Plus, how was this image even generated with my name? Has this kind of fake site replaced those companies that send you those pens printed with your business name on it? Is this the new egocentric-streetwear spam?
Anyway, I gave it a glowing review.
