J.Cruel

Constant. Sartorial. Wonderment.

Archive for Narcissism

Constant. Sartorial. Twittering.

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The Autobiography of J.Cruel

jumpsuit

J.Cruel’s youth . . .

Sounded like: a Hummer’s engine turning over in the seniors’ parking lot, surf crashing, mall music, someone preaching the gospel, tires on the 5, seagulls, Gwen Stefani, coyote howls, tolling bells (they toll for thee).

Smelled like: yoga mats, Hot Dog on a Stick, sagebrush, oranges, Obsession by Calvin Klein, chlorine.

Looked like: red tile roof, white stucco, grass in a desert, ocean horizon, strip mall, palm tree, trucker hat.

Tasted like: fro-yo, fish tacos.

Felt like: a second skin of stretch denim from ankles to sternum . . . oppressive yet comforting.

Super-slim fit denim bodysuit with adjustable spaghetti straps and center back zip. Like your past, you will never escape it.

Envelope of Dreams

gloves

We loved the Academy Awards in our youth with a kind of fervor that we otherwise only lavished on our nanny, our pony, trips to the Ritz for tea, the monkey Father brought us from India, and tantrums.  Now, however, we watch every year and wonder if our childhood self could possibly have been so gauche as to enjoy such a spectacle of ego and inanity. Read the rest of this entry »