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| A couple nights ago my little sister, Heather, cut her hair even shorter. Don't have a photo of it right now, but the 'do is reminiscent of a 15 year old boy cut in 1995. It was a group effort, really, her and a few art world friends. Kids who work on street art pieces that sell for 30k a pop in art markets around the world. Well, at the moment trying to stay out of the auction houses due to a failing economy...not up for economics just now, perhaps more on that later.
A recap of the past couple of weeks...
t h e t e n t s a t b r y a n t p a r k .
My first Fashion Week in New York was a hit. Kicked it off with a hurricane and the Verrier runway show. Sauntered into the tent for the first time absolutely drenched but thrilled to be a part. A photographer noticed my height and asked to take some photos. The girls and I laughed as we overheard whispers from a few onlookers "who is she?" Ha.
A little later as we were entering the runway show, another photographer pulled me aside to get a photograph for a Best Dressed something. Didn't think to get the name of the publication to look up the photo later, but did have to stifle a snort when the photographer asked "who" I was wearing. I flashed a smile, "Vintage," I said. Didn't have the heart to tell her it was an $8 top from a thrift store that my mom had altered for me. Ha.
The Verrier show was lavishly beautiful, would've worn every piece. Imagine our surprise to realize the designer, as she walked out on to the runway at the end of the show, was Ashleigh. One of our charity:water volunteers. Ha!
Sunday night was the Miss Sixty runway show. They are huge supporters of us, and bought loads of our wristbands to put on all the seats. Jessica Stam wore stacks on the runway, as well as Miss Sixty designer, Wichy Hassan. Parker's snaps on our website.
Bailed on the Kor Kick Off Party Monday night, but made it to Monique Pean & Lauren Bush's cocktail party Tuesday night. Monique is a great friend of ours, has traveled to Africa with us and dedicated sales of some of her pieces to water projects in developing nations.
Thursday was full - Best of Britian runway show and exhibition by day...
l o n g i s l a n d c i t y.
Heather's installation by night.
The installation, the Swimming Cities of Switchback Sea, deserves a post all its own.
t h e e a s t v i l l a g e.
Emma stopped by from Salisbury, England last week. We worked on a hospital ship together a couple years ago and have managed to stay in touch since.
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| t h e e a s t v i l l a g e .
a p t # 2 d
Right now I'm hiding from Fashion Week. This is my view at the moment -
  
psalm 32:7, "you are my hiding place"
xx
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| s o h o . Here I am sitting on an industrial rooftop in Soho, wondering how the heck I got here. Looking out over other rooftops, vintage water towers atop up & coming Manhattan businesses, water and brick, one of the oldest cities in the country. Cocktails with artists in Chelsea last night, back at work sipping orange juice from a wine glass and ichatting our teams in Ethiopia and Liberia this morning. www.charitywater.org .
Perhaps a bit sentimental reading over these posts left untouched for the past year and a half. Have been meaning to start posting again for quite awhile, but where to begin has been the issue. More in a bit. r o b i n j o n e s | | |
| jules left Liberia last night... life is definitely a bit more spicey with him around. literally. he's made me try to develop a taste for foods that are the antithesis of mom's cooking. he's made me ride motorbikes through traffic without borders, get slammed by huge waves, venture through vulture infested rasta camps, hike for inhumane periods of time through african heat, snorkel in old mines turned to lakes, and jump off cliffs. then as we said goodbye at the airport he had the audacity to tell me not to do anything stupid while he was gone.
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| Today I went back to Fatima Orphanage with Bowie, Marcel and Aleks. After discussing all the projects which need to be implemented (my role in the discussion being Chief Listener), I hung out with some of the older girls for the afternoon. It was pouring down rain, the tin roof was leaking and we were huddled together on a bunk, one of three in a room which housed at least 20-30 girls. Amidst braiding my hair and laughing at the fact that I shave my legs ("oh! you cut it?!") they relayed some crazy stories from the war. Apparently at one point the rebels were coming to take them, and so they all had to run. Toddlers and all, they walked on foot all day, slept on the side of the road by night and continued to walk the next day until they reached safety. They proudly told me a few times, "..but no one died....they got no one, no one died...". The oddest thing was that the girls told these stories with the same giggles and interruptions that a teenage girl back home would have used. | | |
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