#bulk jackets in new york

[jacketssupplier]

Sports Jackets: How to Wear One to Look Different From the Crowd

Do you want to know how to look attractive in a sports jacket? Go on, read the blog!

Visit: http://www.cross.tv/blog/231442

[thomsonsharon347]

11 Kinds Of Jackets: A Guide On The Super Popular Jacket Styles

A well known wholesale tracksuits manufacturer in USA comes with a mind boggling assemblage of cool and functional tracksuits which are worthy of checking out!

Visit this site:

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Downhill (Preview)

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

cause I went downhill at such steep incline...

Word Count: 2,080

This is a fanfic preview! So feedback and comments are greatly appreciated. Writers always thrive on feedback <3

Warnings: this takes place during Half-Blood Prince - there are mentions of Draco's mission to kill Dumbledore and him being tasked with fixing the Vanishing Cabinet to let Death Eaters into Hogwarts, mentions of Draco being forced to become a Death Eater (mostly against his will, with the emotional pressures of 'family duty'); mentions of death/murder in line with the HBP/DH themes; the reader and Draco are engaged - arranged to be married because they are both purebloods (the reader is an orphan and her only living caregiver 'sold' her to the Malfoys to be married to Draco, but her and Draco have grown emotionally close because of this); mentions of dead animals - more specifically a dead bird (the bird that dies in the Vanishing Cabinet); passing mention of Cedric Diggory's death; general emotional angst from Draco's perspective because he is feeling very trapped and hopeless because he feels that he will not be able to complete his mission successfully and he will be killed (and get the reader killed in the process); passing mention of the reader having lived in New York before she met Draco; passing mention of the reader 'wearing' Draco's jacket (over her shoulders, not putting it on, and it specifically says that it doesn't fit her well); there is an argument where Draco takes out his fear/frustration on the reader verbally and he grabs her arm roughly - this is not healthy in a relationship, but they are both trying to function under severe circumstances (also it only happens for a moment and it's not a pattern); mention of Draco being thin/losing weight due to improper eating (from stress); this part does not have smut but the longer/full fic will have smut once it is finished and posted. I believe that's everything for now.

A/N: This fic is titled after the song Downhill by Lincoln, so if you want to know the vibes of the overall fic, definitely listen to that song. It's a very Draco song with the 'if I meant every word that I ever said, you'd probably question the life I have led' - because in his bullying, he probably has just said a lot of harsh things without meaning them. And in this fic, the reader met him after the bulk of his severe childhood bully phase, so she didn't know that he used to be a very outwardly cruel person. I also love the 'I was born into the world on a silken cloud, and I got bored of the world before I hit the ground' - because Draco was born into so so much privilege and he didn't even realize how lucky he was, and now that his privileged position is forcing him to take on a murder and a lot of undue stress, he wants to go back to blissful ignorance. (Basically, it's such a Draco song, and it really really drove home the themes of this fanfic idea for me.) Anyway, I'm really excited about this fic, and I hope you enjoy this preview!

...

Draco brought you to the back of the large room, and you saw that he had already pulled the tarp off the overwhelming tall, ornate Vanishing Cabinet, so the dusty cloth was sitting in the pile at the cabinet’s feet. Without a word, Draco walked up to the cabinet, moving in stiff mechanical motions as he pulled open the doors. You took a few steps closer to get a better look, realising that he was trying to show you whatever was inside - that must be where the primary problem was located. 

You couldn’t hold in the gasp that broke out of your throat when you saw a dead bird sitting in the bottom of the cabinet. 

A bright yellow canary laying against the dark wood, belly up and completely still with its soft feathers rustled, a few of them missing. You had seen very few dead animals in your lifetime. Aside from the occasional New York City pigeon, laying on the sidewalk in a similar fashion after running itself into one of the hyper reflective windows of the tall buildings. You couldn’t even stand to look at those for too long. You still felt the same deep heartache while looking at it. 

“Oh - oh my.” You gaped quietly. 

Draco was entirely surprised when you shouldered him out of the way, letting his ill-fitting borrowed jacket drop off your shoulders onto the dusty ground carelessly as you crouched down carefully in front of him. You then scooped up the small bird in your hands, cradling it gently as though it were entirely precious. 

He thought that seeing the state of things, you might start suggesting spells, telling him ways that he could fix the obvious problem. But no - you were soft-hearted. The true problem hadn’t even occurred to you yet, because you were so caught up on the sight of a dead bird. You were emotional, struck by the shock of an innocent animal having its life prematurely ended. 

Draco envied you quietly for a moment as you sat on your knees in front of the cabinet, looming in his shadow as you held the bird in your hands. He realised that in order for you to be so startled over this, so heartbroken - it must be one of the first times you had been brushed with death. Draco envied that naivety. 

He wished he could rewind to the version of himself from a few years ago. A version that thought not being able to join the Quidditch team because of an age restriction was the worst tragedy in the world. A version that thought he got everything he wanted because he was genuinely deserving of it. Someone who couldn’t see that he was simply a spoiled brat. 

He wished he could go back to a version that hadn’t seen Muggleborns slain in his family’s dining room, begging for mercy where there would be none.  

When he had first seen that bird sitting dead in the cabinet, a still dead body draped in yellow - for a moment, he had been reminded of Cedric Diggory. Someone so undeserving, lifeless before their time. Used up and gone. 

But now, seeing the way you cradled it, fussing over something already dead and unable to benefit from your care - Draco was distinctly reminded of himself, withering and undeserving in your arms. 

“Draco, do - do you think we should bury it?” You asked, the gentle croak of tears in your voice as you considered a pointless funeral for the small dead thing. 

You suddenly rose up to your feet then, walking around Draco to look for something to wrap the poor bird in - some kind of cloth, or perhaps a small box to place it in. 

This caused something inside of him to snap. The way your sweet demeanour ground against his nerves, his worry, his anxiety about everything mounting suddenly as you fussed over something that truly didn’t matter. 

Your good intentions would get you killed. That gentle touch, that willingness to help - it would get you on the wrong end of a Killing Curse one day. (Especially if he didn’t protect you.) 

“It’s not about the bloody bird, woman!” He growled out, entirely frustrated with your delicate ignorance, your lack of seeing the true point. 

Draco turned to you, and grabbed your arm so viciously that your palms jerked and the small, lifeless body dropped onto the floor without a single bit of grace. It dropped against the cold stone so carelessly, as though it were an object that had not once had any life in it at all. You let out another gasp at this, and looked from the dull tuft of yellow feathers at your feet up to Draco’s face. 

“Draco!” You cried out, protesting against his careless nature toward the innocent creature. 

His fingers were gripping your forearm fiercely, blooming small bits of pain - but you didn’t care. You felt a clench in your gut, distinct guilt overwhelming you. You told yourself that his anger was misplaced. You didn’t have words, especially not while he stared you down so coldly. All you could do was stand tall, and stare right back, even while tears formed in your eyes. 

He tightly clenched his jaw. 

You were surprised when he spoke again. 

“How can you be so daft?” He said, almost choking on the words. 

That was when you knew for certain it was misplaced. He had called you brilliant before - it was one of the only things he had said about you that wasn’t sarcastic or backhanded in some effort to deter you. He didn’t think that you were stupid, not one bit. 

“Look, you know if I don’t get this thing working-” He couldn’t even finish his sentence before his throat closed around the words, threatening harsh sobs that he was desperate to contain. 

Instead, he turned abruptly, letting go of your arm - now completely uncaring of the misplaced conflict. You felt a wave crash into your chest as you realised it. How could you have been so stupid? 

Of course, he had no care for a small animal. 

It was about what that animal represented. His failure. Death looming over his head. 

The bird had obviously died in the cabinet, which meant that a living thing had yet to survive the transition from Borgin & Burke’s into Hogwarts. If Draco couldn’t fix that problem - if there was some sort of problem when the Death Eaters tried to use the cabinet to get into Hogwarts and one of them died, Draco would be on the line for it. If they couldn’t use the cabinet at all, Draco would be on the line for it. 

They would kill him if he couldn’t get this right. 

Draco moved slowly, putting a hand on each of the cabinet’s doors and closing them. 

Then, for a few long, painstaking moments - neither of you said a thing. 

Your chest ached. You wished that you could find something comforting to tell him. For some reason, you knew that simply telling him ‘it’s going to be okay’ just wasn’t going to cut it. You muddled in the silence and you hated it. 

He stood with his back still turned to you, with his arms outstretched, leaning on the tall, imposing wooden object. It felt like a shadow of death looming over the two of you. His shoulders held nothing but pure tension, even as he used the object for support, and he dropped his head between his spread arms. 

After a few moments of that terrible silence, with you staring at his back, tossing your mind for something helpful to say as you chewed at your own lip - Draco took in a shuddering breath. Though you knew he was trying to hide it: he began quietly sobbing. 

You couldn’t help yourself then. 

It was something you knew he pretended to hate, but you knew what to do next. You stepped forward, over the dead bird, your shoes quietly clacking against the stone - and you settled yourself right up against his back, tucking your body tightly against him in a hug. You nuzzled your face into the tense muscles of his shoulders, and as you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind and squeezed him tightly, you felt some of the tension melt away as he relaxed into your touch. 

You did worry about how much thinner he felt in your arms than the last time you had done this - obviously, he hadn’t been eating properly. But you didn’t bother to bring it up, not wanting to start another argument. 

Draco felt a grateful warmth spread over him. But he refused to touch you back. At least just yet. 

He kept his hands on the wood of the cabinet, almost like a bold surrender that he wouldn’t give into your softness. He couldn’t. He let out another shuddering sob - a sound he couldn’t contain with the feeling of your warmth at his back. It was something he hated himself for. 

You hushed him gently. And then, miraculously, you found words. 

“We could leave.” You said quietly, turning your head so that your cheek sat parallel with his flesh, muttering the words against the fine silk of his button up shirt. “We could just… run away together. We don’t have to stay here, Draco. We could get to a fireplace and Floo out of here, or-” 

“We can’t.” Draco replied, his voice just as quiet, throttled by tears. “You know that we can’t.” 

You wanted to argue the point more. Obviously, he didn’t hate the idea. He just thought it was illogical. Likely, he thought it was too dangerous. But what was the alternative - possibly being killed anyway? 

“If we leave, they’ll kill my parents because I couldn’t complete my mission.” Draco sniffled quietly. “At the very least, they’ll haul me in and have my head for being a traitor.” 

Draco straightened his stance then, taking his arms off the cabinet. You thought that he might remove your arms from his waist, finally rejecting your touch. But instead, he began tracing fingers from his right hand along the forearm of his left sleeve, almost scratching at it like it was a terrible itch. 

You had been there the day he had gotten the Mark. You had been brought into the room and forced to listen to his screams of pain before you even truly knew what was happening. When you had tried to comfort him about it, he had pushed you off so roughly that you had almost smacked your head into one of the walls, and you knew that he was taking that fear and pain out on you in that terribly misplaced way. 

But that night, when he had been crying, sobbing and running the freshly scorched skin under cool water - he let you run him a bath with soothing soaps and the two of you discussed Shakespeare’s plays (which you were surprised that he had read) while you washed his hair for him. 

“Now that I have the Mark, I can’t run anywhere.” Draco muttered quietly. “I can’t go anywhere I won’t be found.” 

That part had never truly occurred to you before. 

You knew that the Dark Lord used the Dark Mark as a way for his followers to show their loyalty, and as a way for him to summon them or even for them to summon him. And you guessed that Draco having it meant that he could be ‘summoned’ at any time as a part of the loyalty he had so unwillingly pledged. 

Even if he betrayed the Dark Lord morally, mentally, emotionally, and tried to do so physically by running away, as long as his arm was attached, he would still be in service to that horrible man until he and his followers decided otherwise. Especially because you couldn’t imagine Draco wanting to part with his arm anytime soon. 

“We’ll figure something out.” You told him, having little faith in those words yourself. But you knew it was a truth that you had to speak into existence. 

Then you laid a gentle kiss on his shoulder through the fabric of his shirt, spreading more warmth through him. He clenched his fists at his sides, highly resisting the urge to reach for your hands, but silently hoping that you wouldn’t pull away. 

Draco resented your sense of hope. But these days, it was the only thing keeping him afloat in the chaos seas that his life had become.

...

Remember, if you want to see the full fic when it comes out, make sure to follow my fanfiction blog @sundrop-writes and turn on notifications there!

Also, this fic is going to be a prequel to the fic I have already written - My Bleeding Heart, so if you liked this, definitely check that fic out.

[professorpski]

Cousin to The Seven Year Itch Halter Dress, Butterick 6938

There is a famous scene in the 1955 film, The Seven-Year Itch, a movie set in a hot summer in New York City when air conditioning was still rare. Marilyn Monroe is standing over a subway grate and the whoosh of a train blows up the skirt of her white halter dress giving some relief from the heat.

This re-issued 1950s pattern from Butterick is the cousin to that famous white dress. There are differences--Monroe’s dress by Travilla had a pleated skirt, a waist-tie, and no buttons in front--but they share a silhouette of fitted bodice with a halter neck and a full skirt.  Indeed, you could alter this pattern to make it look more like the iconic dress, but the ensemble here is both charming and practice.

The buttons on the front bodice appear on the little jacket as well. And the jacket is a nice addition since air-conditioning can create a chill on many a summer evening out.  While the buttons are functional, you get into the dress with a side zipper.

The dress and jacket take 6-7 yards of 45″ fabric, and they suggest crispy cottons like chambray, broadcloth or pique, or fancier silks like taffeta or shantung.  I  would either test muslin the bodice or add extra-large seam allowances (3/4″), so that you can tweak the close fit. You need to take into account the shape of the shoulders, the bustline and the waistline and how they relate to each other, are you long-waisted, short-waisted, etc.

Realize the skirt will be WIDE, and you may prefer to pleat it rather than gather it at the waist to reduce bulk. The 1950s designers loved the fitted bodice with the enormous skirt, but many of us find it overwhelming to the eye.

You can find it at your local fabric store on online here: https://simplicity.com/butterick/b6938

[stylishdemon]

How to survive in a post Nuclear War

-A Journal By StylishDemon[Part -1]

26/9/2023

It was just an any other normal night with one expection being my birthday, I was never really such of a party person.

As usual I was warming up my bed so that it won't feel cold at night, as I get up to chug in some water so to clam my churning stomach..."BOOM"

My ever so seemingly strong roof crumbles down, "Wtf man!?" Suppressing my surprised tone, a huge wave of air as if released from a hot oven bursts through the huge hole and gifts me with first and second degree burns.

"Ahhh!!" Fortunately, the full sleeves struck on my body saved most parts of the skin however the bare structures immediately become red with light swelling.

"Water! I need a cold shower!!"

Scrambling my way in now ruined house I swung open the refrigerator's freezer then broke the bulked up ices, "Haa... haaa...!"

'What's happening!?'

I was fast, at least my hands were, the premonition I felt was no good. Quickly unlocking the vibrating phone with messages I read a few.

[Emergency! An nuclear explosion has occurred in several places including San Antonio! New York! Chicago! Los Angeles! Survivors are recommend to stay hidden...]

'There is no time!'

As a student of major from science, I was fully aware of the seriousness.

The time was clocking out, moving my weak limbs I dressed myself with a trecking suit, "I can't stay here for too long..."

It wasn't just dangerous, one would die if were to stay more than 10-15 min out in the air after a nuclear explosion.

Grabbing whatever left on my emergency medi kit, I stuffed the few rations left inside my jacket and the rest into a nearby backpack.

"Let's head to the basement!"

"It's dangerous to stay out on the open! Follow me to the underground basement with whatever you could grab!!!"

On the way, I yelled at the people of my apartment but only a handful of them were in their right mind to listen my words.

The rest were too dazed or too panicked for acting at present, with no help to be done I shut off the basement shutters then tightly locked them with heavy structures that could be found here.

The survivors with me were too stunned for a rationalizing thinking, as the five of us huddle together in the darkest chamber.

I fell asleep due to mental and emotional exhaustion.

[impressivepress]

The Trouble With Writing About Vivian Maier

Biographers get distracted by the photographer’s unusual life story—to the point of diminishing her work itself.

Until 12 years ago, the photographer Vivian Maier was largely unknown. Though she shot incessantly from 1950 until about a decade before her death in 2009, she hid her pictures, literally locking them away. Often, she didn’t even bother to develop her rolls of film. She made money as a live-in nanny for families in New York and Chicago (briefly working for talk-show host Phil Donahue). As she got older, she rented storage lockers to house her overwhelming accumulation of books, magazines, newspapers, and other miscellany. The contents of those lockers were auctioned off in 2007 after she fell into arrears, which is how then-26-year-old John Maloof, a former art student, began purchasing the bulk of Maier’s archive: more than 140,000 images, most of them undeveloped and unprinted. A couple of years later, he uploaded some of the pictures to a street photography group on Flickr to immediate acclaim.

The images arrived already imbued with the aura of permanence. They sometimes evoke the wanderlust of Robert Frank’s photos, the wry self-deprecation of Lee Friedlander, or the grubbiness of Weegee, but they’re not derivative. Attentive to plaintive or absurd interludes in American life, primarily in New York City and Chicago, Maier made a piecemeal record of the sudden encounters and furtive gestures that turn any street into a guerrilla theater. She captured politicians on the campaign trail (Eisenhower, Kennedy, Nixon, LBJ); celebrities at premieres or out in the wild (Frank Sinatra, John Wayne, Greta Garbo, Audrey Hepburn); laborers and commuters; drunks, criminals, and down-and-outs; flaneurs and well-coiffed women in furs. She cataloged the textures and cast-offs of the urban environment: graffiti, fire escapes, signs, garbage, shadows, abandoned newspapers, half-demolished buildings. She easily switched between registers, from gentle wit—as in a 1975 photo of an elderly trio crossing a Chicago street in rhyming yellow apparel, or a 1960s photo of an imperious dog loitering beneath a pay phone—to almost ethnographic sincerity, as in her photos from a six-month solo voyage around the world in 1959. She often photographed children, particularly when they were aggrieved or lost in adultlike introspection. Above all, she made images of casual lyricism, as in her celebrated 1957 photo of a woman in white drifting through a dark Florida night. Maier’s are the kinds of photos about which you can only say: These are the real deal.

The fact that Maier was dead by the time she became famous has proved a boon for her posthumous renown; in her absence, the mysteries around the photographer-nanny became irresistible hooks for editors and curators. Maloof has been entrepreneurial about marketing her story. At least half a dozen monographs have appeared in the last decade, bolstered by numerous exhibitions and a steady chorus of press. In 2015, Finding Vivian Maier, a documentary that Maloof co-directed, was nominated for an Oscar and burnished Maier’s legend further. If she’s not quite in the canon yet, she’s certainly wait-listed.

Maier has also been the subject of two notable biographies. The first, Vivian Maier: A Photographer’s Life and Afterlife, by Pamela Bannos, was released in 2016. The second, Vivian Maier Developed: The Untold Story of the Photographer Nanny, by Ann Marks, exemplifies the allure and risks of writing about the enigmatic Maier. Marks, a former marketing executive at Dow Jones, began to dig into Maier’s life after watching Maloof’s film. She kicks off her biography with a brassy sales pitch: “By book’s end, key questions will be answered, including the one everyone asks: ‘Who was Vivian Maier, and why didn’t she share her photographs?’ Mystery solved.”

Well, maybe, maybe not. Treating Maier like a riddle makes for good jacket copy but can also turn her into a kind of Rorschach: One sees in her whatever the critical mode du jour demands. Circa 2011, she was “the best street photographer you’ve never heard of,” to quote Mother Jones. Today, she is an aerosol of neuroses and quirks, the lonely spinster who shampooed with vinegar and slathered Vaseline on her face; who wore men’s size 12 shoes; who dumped drippings from a roast pan into a glass and drank them. As Marks describes Maier’s eccentricities, she starts to play the amateur clinician, marshaling hypotheses from medical experts whose secondhand diagnoses foreground a story of trauma and unwitting victimhood. Commercial publishers require a takeaway, and so Maier becomes here something she would have detested: an inspiration.

Maier is a tricky subject for a biographer. She spent the 1960s, ’70s, and ’80s as a nanny, shuttling between families, or sometimes enjoying the reprieve of stable employment. (Her longest post was 11 years.) Whenever she moved, she locked her room and forbade anyone from entering. She seems not to have had romantic relationships, and had few personal ties. She left behind little by way of diaries or letters. Marks bases part of her portrait of Maier on the recollections of people who knew her glancingly, who remember her as an “extraterrestrial” figure. “She was … a very foreign presence in Highland Park,” recalls a friend of the Gensburgs, the family that employed Maier the longest. Marks’s physical rundown suggests why:

[Maier] dressed formally; her everyday attire consisted of a tailored suit or crisp Peter Pan–collared blouse paired with a calf-length skirt. She still wore old-fashioned rolled-down stockings, unable to make the transition to pantyhose. It was all covered up with oversize men’s coats in beiges and grays and topped with a trademark floppy hat.

Adding to the sense of foreignness was Maier’s brusqueness and penchant for French expressions. She presented a stern image that seemed at odds with the sensibility of her photos: The strict disciplinarian who insisted that her young charges address her as “Mademoiselle” and who sometimes slapped the children in her care also created a portfolio rife with humor and tenderness. More puzzling still, the woman who once traveled the world alone, who frankly espoused her opinions, and who seethed with ambition spent most of her adult life in the suburbs, anonymously plying her art. Marks begins her book with an epigraph of dichotomous terms acquaintances used to describe Maier, among them: Caring/Cold, Feminine/Masculine, Jovial/Cynical, Passionate/Frigid, Social/Solitary, Mary Poppins/Wicked Witch.

Despite her outward formality, a streak of playfulness runs through her photographs. In her more than 600 self-portraits, she finds ingenious ways to use mirrors and storefront windows to reflect her plain intensity, or else manifests as a kind of negative presence, as in more oblique shots of her shadow against sidewalks and walls. A self-portrait from the 1970s depicts her shadow against a laborer’s mud-spattered behind; another shows her shadow hovering amid a patch of buttercups (an image later used on a dress displayed in Bergdorf Goodman’s storefront). Other self-portraits are more direct: Maier reflected in a car mirror, her face neutral, aloof. According to Marks, Maier almost never let anyone else take her picture. How are we to understand these paradoxes?

In Marks’s telling, Maier inherited a split sense of self. Maier’s mother, Marie Jaussaud, was born in France in 1897, the illegitimate daughter of a teenage fling. “The baby girl was welcomed into a world where she officially didn’t exist,” Marks writes, noting that this shame “set into motion three generations of family dysfunction.” By 1919, Marie had immigrated to New York City, where she married an alcoholic steam engineer named Charles Maier. The couple gave birth to a son, Carl, in 1920, and to a daughter, Vivian, in 1926. The Maiers’ marriage was unhappy, and in 1932 Marie and Vivian fled to France, leaving young Carl behind. Mother and daughter returned to New York in 1938, where Maier eventually lodged with a widowed family friend, and found work in a doll factory (perhaps accounting for some later shots of dolls discarded in trash cans).

In 1950, Maier again returned to France. It was there she began taking photographs with a box camera: panoramas of the Alps, studies of the region’s working class, portraits of family. “It is clear from her early negatives and prints that Vivian possessed a great deal of confidence,” Marks writes. “She typically covered her subjects with just one shot, an approach that would become a trademark.” In the spring of 1951, Maier returned to New York, where she continued shooting, and even flirted with the idea of launching a picture postcard business. Most importantly, Maier revolutionized her practice by purchasing a Rolleiflex camera, which allowed her to literally shoot from the hip.

Marie almost entirely disappears from the biography after this point. “[She] stands out as disturbed and mentally unstable, even among a group of troubled individuals,” Marks writes of Maier’s mother. A doctor who examined the family records for this biography suggests that Marie had narcissistic personality disorder. She rarely held a steady job and was allergic to housework. She fabricated medical ailments, and in a letter to an officer about Carl’s care, she strikes a paranoid tone, lamenting that everyone had “plotted against” her. Although Marks acknowledges that it’s impossible to accurately diagnose Marie, this doesn’t stop her from premising the whole biography on such drive-by psychologizing. Indeed, the book is a case study for what responsible biographers shouldn’t do.

Some of Marks’s theories are more credible than others. It’s likely, for example, that Maier was a hoarder. By the time she died, she had crammed more than eight tons of possessions into storage lockers. (Her hoarding cost her at least one nanny job.) At other times, though, Marks’s hypotheses are purely speculative. “Physical and sexual abuse can contribute to trauma,” she writes, “and Vivian’s behavior suggests that she may have endured this type of exploitation.” The behavior in question—Maier’s distaste for physical intimacy, her fusty wardrobe, and her cautioning young girls against sitting on men’s laps—doesn’t strike me as compelling evidence of childhood sexual abuse so much as the traits of a reserved woman with old-fashioned notions of propriety. “[Maier’s] brother was definitively diagnosed with schizophrenia, and her mother almost certainly had a history of some sort of mental illness,” Marks writes. “Many felt Vivian’s grandfather Nicolas Baille may have also, based on his antisocial behavior and extreme paranoia.” (Marks doesn’t specify whom she means by “Many.”) She asks the same doctor who diagnosed Maier’s mother to take a crack at Maier herself. The verdict: Maier was perhaps a “classic case of schizoid disorder.”

Marks uses the fact of Carl Maier’s schizophrenia to prop up this diagnosis. One of the assets of her largely lackluster biography is the gumshoe work she does chasing down Carl’s records and filling in his story. (The book’s multiple appendixes, including one devoted to “genealogical tips,” suggests that building out a family tree is Marks’s real passion.) Carl was imprisoned at age 16 for tampering with the mail and forging a check. He joined the military but was dishonorably discharged for a drug-related offense. He bounced in and out of psychiatric hospitals as an adult and died of an aortic thrombosis at a rest home in 1977, at age 57. He and Maier had little contact with each other, although Marks portrays them as heirs to a common bloodline of mental illness. Marks takes Carl’s diagnosis at face value, despite how often the label schizophrenia was slapped onto criminalized bodies at mid-century, particularly among institutionalized drug users. Still, let’s grant that Carl had some kind of genetic psychological disturbance—what does that mean for Maier?

It means that her creativity, her art, is inextricable from mental illness. That’s a generic enough argument, but in Marks’s hands, it turns cloying. Her interpretations of Maier’s work sometimes take unfortunate cues from clinical analyses. She quotes a father-son duo of Freudian therapists who posit that “the negative themes that surface in Vivian’s portfolio—including death, violent crime, demolition, and garbage—represent subconscious reflections of her low self-esteem.” Name any worthwhile photographer—any worthwhile artist—and you’ll encounter “negative themes.” This is vapid psychoanalysis and even worse critical writing.

As I read, I was increasingly irritated by this reductive and patronizing portrayal of Maier. (This is underscored by how Marks refers to Maier as “Vivian.” “I use her first name throughout because this is how most people know and speak about her,” Marks writes by way of explanation. She doesn’t consider that Maier, who worked in a service capacity all of her life, was unlikely to be addressed by her surname.) “With immense strength of character and perseverance,” Marks writes, “Vivian developed compensatory qualities and coping mechanisms, like photography, to manage her mental health issues.” In Marks’s account, Maier is a mentally ill woman who took photos almost as a therapeutic tic rather than a full-fledged artist with (perhaps) a mental illness. Maier’s self-portraits, according to Marks, are simply ways to substantiate herself in the world—signposts of a woman who was forever unmoored. Even Maier’s prolificness is evidence of a compulsion, as if her taking pictures was of a piece with her hoarding of newspapers. Marks never considers that perhaps Maier just enjoyed being a photographer, and that the act of framing a shot was itself creatively fulfilling. Would anyone point to a writer’s pile of false starts and trashed drafts as signs of a mental disorder?

Just because Maier often didn’t develop her rolls of film and rarely produced prints (and almost never exhibited them) doesn’t mean that her creative practice was somehow stunted or insular. That’s a careerist view of how a photographer should operate. Maier was undoubtedly a serious, dedicated, and consummate artist, largely self-taught, who honed her craft over decades. As Marks herself notes, Maier was more than a hobbyist, even from the beginning: “Altogether, the thousands of early images … confirm how intensely Vivian worked to master the basics of photography during her time in [France].” In New York, Maier sought out “colleagues to learn from, collaborate with, and engage in shoptalk.” She assiduously cropped images and experimented with color film. Even by the end of her career, Maier was known to leave precise instructions for the technicians entrusted with developing her images. But by pressing her into a queasy Hallmark narrative of a woman triumphing over her demons, Marks’s biography unintentionally undervalues Maier’s achievement. Photography wasn’t a “coping mechanism” but her life’s work.

“I’m sort of a spy,” Maier once told someone who asked about her profession. She was being cheeky, but the remark indicates how she saw herself: as a witness and a trespasser, a woman interested in momentary revelations of truth, no matter how painful or embarrassing or fraught. Her photographs represent a vast album of American street life across five decades, and, parallel to that, a chronicle of Maier’s own place in that landscape. It’s a body of work that’s simultaneously objective and subjective, in which Maier is both the author and a recurrent, ambiguous protagonist who lends the entire undertaking a kind of self-referential weight. Contrary to Marks’s argument, I see no meaningful distinction between the photographer and the world in Maier’s work. She doesn’t appear to me as an isolated woman trying to fix her coordinates in a universe from which she was somehow estranged. She looks, instead, like a woman who was profoundly and intuitively present.

If you read enough biographies, you realize that the genre has a fatal flaw, a system error: Every person is unknowable, not least of all to themselves. There is, in everyone, some small cinder of truth that never sees the light of day. Biographers pretend that this cinder can be revealed, and that order can be imposed upon an unruly life. That’s a lie. Ann Marks hasn’t solved the mystery of Maier—why would we want her to? The photographer’s mystery remains intact, suffusing the thousands of indelible images she left behind in those storage lockers. It’s better to look there for the truth of her life, in those pictures of the world that she put away, as if she saw, and understood, what the rest of us never would. ~ Jeremy Lybarger · Dec 21, 2021.

[customsweaterproducer]

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[jptclothing]

Get the Best Blank T-Shirts Wholesale in New York From Top Vendor in Latest Styles

Who will not love a blank T-shirt with super designs that ooze superior comfort? Now, sourcing blank T-shirts wholesale in NYC in bulk is too easy. There are Blank T-Shirts Wholesale NYC, offering price cushion, volumes, and wide selections.

Prospective buyers can buy 100 percent pre-shrunk, ring-spun cotton T-shirts from New York outlets, with ample choice in terms of style and price brackets.

If you are a dealer looking to provide customers other than the run-of-the mill labels such as Nike, Outerknown, and U.S. Polo that rock with a great pair of jeans, chinos, dress pants, or shorts, Blank T-Shirts NYC offers new vistas to relax.

They are proud additions to mass and class brands and are hot sellers like Fresh Clean Tees, Calvin Klein, Lululemon, Todd Snyder, Vuori, Champion T-Shirt, AM T-Shirt, and Kingsted 4-Pack.

Among them, you cannot miss JPT Clothing New York, which has become a synonym for the best blank t-shirts and women's clothing.

Get the best T-shirts

As for variety, the T-shirts have a wider range and cover shoulder-to-shoulder taping, double-needle stitching, lay-flat collars, sleeves, and the bottom hem, adding to the durability and longevity of the top.

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Those looking for an eco-friendly T-shirt that, in a regular fit, is made of 100 percent combed organic cotton without worrying about the presence of pesticides or herbicides.

Fashionistas will love the ribbed-neck T-shirt for durability, shoulder tape for a snug fit, and double-needle hems for added comfort.

These T-shirts are regular fits, and available in black and white, and well-crafted from organic cotton. The set-in sleeves are a stylish showcase. This vegan T-shirt has double-needle topstitching for enhanced durability and an array of color options.

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As for JPT Clothing, it has a name as a Women’s Clothing Wholesale brand in New York with immense fame. The attraction is the vast repertoire of apparel collections such as tops, skirts, jackets, sets, leggings, bottoms, dresses, and face masks offered in chic, classic, and trendy styles. It has customized junior and plus-size products too.

In Blanks Wholesale NYC JPT is a boon for retailers. Alongside famed brands in blanks, they can flaunt these NYC blanks to widen the choice beyond Velour Garments; OG American Apparel, often touted as premium quality; and organic and dense knit structures.

Those looking for Yeezy style covering boxy, short, and wide, departing from the beaten Fruit of the Loom cuts, these blanks from JPT in NYC can be a great choice.

[thomsonsharon347]

8 Cool Ways to Style Your Bomber Jacket

Initially used as military clothing, bomber jackets made its way to men’s apparel but then with the passage of time, it has now become a huge part of women’s clothing these days. They have come a long way in women’s clothing, from street style to formal wear.

[towfiqur]

The Best Gear for Travel

Traveling well is a fine balance between finding inspiration in the unknown while being grounded in something,” said Wirecutter founder Brian Lam. “Sometimes that is a memory of home, a family, a significant other, friends, etc. Sometimes it’s just the familiar, reliable stuff in your bag.”

Packing

A well-packed bag is one that contains less than you think you need but everything you actually need. If possible, fitting everything into one carry-on and personal item will give you more freedom compared to checking a bag or two. You’ll be glad you did if (and when) things don’t go according to plan.

 Consider this example from OneBag’s Doug Dyment: “I’ve been in situations where I’ve landed in Chicago on my way to New York and everything was snowed in, no flights were flying anywhere, but I was able to rent a car or take a train whereas everyone whose bags were being held hostage by the airlines were simply stuck.”

While carry-on-only isn’t feasible (or advisable) for every trip—especially extended business trips or weddings where you need multiple outfits to maintain appearances—if in doubt, it’s better to cut.

The Cotopaxi Allpa 35L features an easy-to-pack clamshell design and highly adjustable straps that make it a great all-around bag for any traveler who’s dedicated to packing light travel accessories, or for a smaller person who wants less to carry. Handles on all four sides of this bag make it easy to grab no matter where you’ve stowed it, and the Allpa’s straps are contoured to comfortably fit people who have large or small chests. It’s not a specifically gendered design, but our female tester noticed the improvement right away.

The bag is protected by a full lifetime warranty and has the build quality to back that up. Its front panel is made of a waterproof, TPU-coated 1,000-denier polyester (a strong fabric covered in a flexible plastic coating), which means you can lay it on its back in a wet field or in gravel without worrying about moisture soaking through or jagged edges ripping the fabric. The rest of the paneling is made with 1,680-denier ballistic nylon, which feels similar to a strong canvas but with a more prominent weave. After four years of testing, this single backpack (plus a personal item to store under the seat) has replaced nearly every travel  accessories bag or piece of luggage that Kit Dillon, Wirecutter’s senior staff writer who covers luggage, uses.

Compression sacks

Originally designed for reducing the bulk of lofty sleeping bags, compression sacks are stuff sacks modified with additional nylon end caps that can be pulled together by strings or straps to remove air and create a smaller, denser package that’s easier to pack. Most travelers use compression sacks to condense socks, underwear, and other stuff you don’t mind getting wrinkled into a package with half as much overall volume. For example, an 8- to 12-liter sack can compress a fleece jacket and a long-weekend’s worth of socks and underwear into something that fits in one hand. They also make a decent pillow in a pinch.Most compression sacks require you to empty out the stuff at the top to get to the stuff below it, but the side-zipper design on the Osprey StraightJacket allows access to the entire contents of the bag at once. The compression straps attach sideways, and are less likely to get tangled and twisted like on most compression sacks with lengthwise straps. It can also sit up on its own, and the handle design lets you break it out as a last minute carry-on to avoid an overweight-baggage fee. However, it doesn’t compress down as compactly as the traditional designs we tested so it’s not the best option if compression is your top priority.

Flip-flops

A good pair of travel accessories flip-flops should be lightweight, cheap, and flat. That way they’re easy to take wherever and it won’t matter if you lose them. After testing the super popular Havaianas, Ipanemas, Crocs, and Old Navy flip-flops, our pick is the Havaiana Top (for men and women). These high-density PVC Brazilian classics are world-renowned for their durability, affordability, and reliable traction, even when wet. They weigh just 150 g, compared to the 220 g Ipanemas. They pack down to almost nothing, unlike the big and boaty Crocs. And while other cheap flip flops can get squeaky when wet, the Havaianas stay mostly silent, which is why they’re so popular in beach towns all over the world. Ultimately, this is what earned them the pick over our previous pick from Old Navy.

Neck pillow

The uniquely angled back on the Travel accessories Ultimate sets it apart from other travel pillows we tested because it can lay flat against the seat back. Most other pillows have a rounded back, which pushes your head away from the headrest. The Travelrest also has rubber grip dots to prevent slipping while sleeping. This pillow’s spongy memory foam cushions the entire circumference of your neck, preventing your head from leaning far in any direction, and its adjustable Velcro strap ensures it can fit most necks. The pillow’s cozy velour exterior is removable and machine-washable. Although it doesn’t pack flat, the Travel accessories weighs less than a pound and compresses to a quarter of its size when rolled into its Velcro-strapped carrying case. Our only complaint is that the Travelrest’s high walls, though supportive, can push over-ear headphones off of the ears of people with shorter necks.

Noise-cancelling headphones

The Bose Noise Canceling Headphones 700 over-ear set has the most versatile active noise cancellation we’ve ever tested. With 10 levels of noise reduction to choose from, everyone should be able to find a setting that meets this travel accessories. We also enjoyed the lightweight and comfortable design and the easy-to-use controls. What distinguishes the Bose 700’s ANC is the amount of adjustability it gives you: Most noise-canceling headphones offer controls for only on/off or maybe high/low/off, but with the Bose 700 pair you can set the ANC level from 0 to 10, so you have more flexibility to dial in the ideal setting for your comfort. The 20-hour battery life, while not the best we’ve seen, is more than sufficient to get you to most destinations. We have additional options—including earbuds and surprisingly good budget options for over-ear headphones and earbuds—in our full guide to noise-canceling headphones.

[meryjones24]

[reglux456]

Invoice Cunningham Mens Winter Put On The New York Times

While jackets and trousers are tailored to suit, a pair of denims, however, is a extra informal affair. Denim is a staple cloth winter styles for men in Paris, whether slim-fit jeans, skinny jeans, or relaxed fit. Vintage denim with a casual t-shirt and leather/bomber jacket is a favorite for many social outings. Chunky shawl-collar cardigans add a big amount of bulk and warmth when worn over collared shirts, turtlenecks, lengthy sleeve shirts, and even sweatshirts.

Around this time, plaid and candy stripe shirts also grew to become trendy. Most three-piece suits were double-breasted, but there have been additionally single-breasted choices. The swimsuit jacket was higher waisted than earlier than and had wide pointed lapels to emphasise the shoulders and waist. It additionally featured a three- or four-button closure down the front. Suit pants were flat within the entrance, had tapered legs, and a thinner waistline. Gone have been the shoulder pads and stiff fit of the earlier decade.

Even more so if they’re geared up with a thick, treaded sole that provides a bit of traction on wet or icy surfaces. Buy well and take care of them correctly, and a great pair of labor boots will last you for all times, not only for winter. During the day, you could have a plus 4 suit, you would have a riding go well with, and so forth. There are additionally cool iterations with bells in their jackets, a lot of pleats, similar to Norfolk jackets or half-Norfolk jackets. Another well-liked coat is the Covert coat, which today is still popularized by English brand Cording’s.

During the Roaring 20s, styles from all around the world – significantly Europe – have been making their method throughout the ocean. Although leisure apparel gained traction, formal styles had been nonetheless very a lot in vogue. In terms of fabrics, the Twenties saw a slight departure from the previous decade.

Winter is the season to flex all of that outerwear that’s been hogging up area in your closet, and long winter coats are considered one of our top picks for this yr. They defend towards the weather and verify off the box in the style department. Car-coats (overcoats) present an informal mens winter fashion search for a high-low strategy. Cotton is actually everywhere and can make up the majority of your winter wardrobe. Everything from your t-shirts and denims to your sweaters, socks and dress shirts are produced from cotton.

Throw a lightly padded version over a roll neck and tailored trouser pairing, like above, and it’ll keep you heat whereas stopping issues from looking too funereal. This is a major example of how accessories can elevate a glance. Go for one in camel and put on it together with your whole tailoring collection, from navy fits through to gray wool separates. While softly padded overcoats could be probably the most adaptable alternative, generally there’s simply no beating a significantly sharp, structured overcoat. Especially for formal occasions or instances when you need to look ready for business.

It nonetheless has the padded baffles of a puffer, but contains a modern and glossy silhouette. The Cloud Parka has a mid-thigh length, and an 800-fill power down insulation, so you will not need to sacrifice heat for style. Its exterior is produced from a lightweight, but durable and waterproof mix of organic winter outfits men cotton and recycled polyester. While some jackets on this listing are tried and true expedition jackets, or derived from expedition jackets, I like that the Capital Parka was designed for city use from its inception. When I first examined the Capital Parka, it was made with 60% recycled polyester, but the newest model out there is now made with 100% recycled polyester.

[crazyblondelife]

An Element of Chic

I have been in sunny Miami for the past three days and it’s been an adjustment this morning waking up to grey skies and rain after waking up to blue skies and a view off the ocean! However, I am so very grateful to have been able to take this trip! I went to photograph some swimsuits and resort wear from Boston Proper and it was the perfect place! I can’t wait to share these pieces with you…they are my favorite pieces so far from Boston Proper!

Todays post is a large contrast…from styling swimsuits to wearing a vintage stole!

You’ve seen me style this stole several times in the past…I never get tired of this coat! It can be worn endless ways and always adds an element of chic to everything I put it with!

Pinterest provides me with endless inspiration and as I was scrolling through the.other day I found a picture that inspired this look (see below). I looked for a touch of red but couldn’t seem to find just the right thing so I’ll keep looking, but overall, I’m pretty pleased with this outfit! What do you think?

My outfit consists of black pants from Theory…they are stretchy like leggings with a great slit in the front and are very comfortable. I added a black turtleneck because of the cold but considered an off-white blouse. I actually tried on a denim shirt under the denim jacket, but it was too much bulk and not comfortable for me. My shoes are very old, yet always classic from Charlotte Olympia and my bag is also old from Henri Bendel. I’m still morning the closing of this iconic store in New York. The double leopard adds a little more interest to this look and it’s something I do often because…you know, you can never have too much leopard.

Here are a few other ways you can wear a leopard stole…they are more versatile than you may think.

Obviously, the classic way to wear this stole is over a cocktail dress or strapless top. This is such a chic look one of my favorites.

I love this stole over a grey tee shirt with pearls and jeans. The contrast is unexpected and fun. Complete the look with pumps or booties, or even play a fun platform sandal.

Wear this stole over a coat for an extra layer of warmth and a lot of chic!

These stoles look beautiful with classic Louis Vuitton bags…especially this beautiful tan color!

A smaller stole looks amazing with a blazer. I haven’t tried this look with mine yet, but I definitely will soon!

Wear with a blouse, untucked, a cropped sweater, trousers.or flare dark wash jeans and pumps.

Wear over a black long sleeve dress with boots.

Wear over a long cardigan with skinny jeans (one of my favorites)

So chic over a column of black!

Try your stole with jeans, gold booties, a camel sweater and a leopard bag (or a red one).

If you have a vintage fur coat…don’t let it collect dust…get it out and wear it! If you’re thinking of purchasing one, I hope this post has inspired you!

Thank you so much for reading today! I’m off to Richmond tomorrow to visit my daughter and eat at some of the restaurants that are included in my Richmond City Guide!

[petnews2day]

Puppy love: How pet parents cope with costs

New Post has been published on https://petnews2day.com/pet-industry-news/pet-financial-news/puppy-love-how-pet-parents-cope-with-costs/

Puppy love: How pet parents cope with costs

NEW YORK, Nov 15 (Reuters) – When Pamela Keniston sits down to do her monthly budget, she has a new element to account for these days.

Hint: Short blonde fur, barks fiercely at bunnies and goes by the name of Zuzu.

The lovable “supermutt” – a mix of Yorkie, Maltese, Chihuahua and Dachshund – came into Keniston’s life in May 2020, early in the pandemic. But Keniston was not prepared for the cost.

From regular grooming, to food, to the spoiled stylings of pajamas and jackets and special collars, the dollars added up quickly. Throw in some medical needs – little Zuzu’s knees needed pricey procedures – and the financial realities of pandemic pets can sometimes take new owners aback.

“Having a pet is a big financial commitment,” says Keniston, a digital marketing consultant in Chapin, South Carolina. “All those things really add up.”

Indeed, the costs of four-legged companionship are staggering: Since the beginning of the COVID crisis, one in five American households, or 23 million, brought a dog or cat into the house, according to the ASPCA.

And a new survey finds they are forking out some $4,500 for yearly care. That is more than pet parents expected in 61% of cases, according to findings from OnePoll, done in partnership with insurer MetLife.

In fact, two in five respondents said that our furry friends are as expensive, or even more so, than dependents of the human variety. No wonder 60% said they tuck away $200 from every paycheck, specifically for their pet’s necessities.

So how can pet parents be smart about their spending without completely draining their financial accounts? Here are four tips.

INSURANCE

For some reason the notion of finding insurance stresses pet parents out: 32% find it overwhelming, according to the MetLife survey.

But you should definitely look into coverage, because if you do not have it, you could be forced into some very difficult choices (and huge out-of-pocket bills). You will find the best prices when your pet is still young and has not yet encountered any health conditions.

Comparison shop just like you would for your own policy, weighing monthly cost against issues like deductibles and the percentage covered after that. In 2020, the average annual premium was $594.15 for dogs, $341.81 for cats.

While the upfront costs of insurance are never fun, the return can be well worth it. Little Zuzu’s knee problems – “luxating patellas” to be specific – ended up costing around $3,000 to fix, Keniston says. Thankfully, pet insurance just kicked in – and covered 90% of that bill.

PREVENTATIVE CARE

If you are looking to save money, it might be very tempting to put off those annual checkups. But think long term.

“Don’t skip annual wellness visits, because this is when your veterinarian can potentially catch problems that can be managed or reversed,” says Kristen Levine, publisher of the Pet Living blog and co-author of the book “Pampered Pets on a Budget”. “This will be less expensive than treating a health condition, possibly a chronic one, that was not prevented earlier.”

FOOD

Pet food has definitely gone “premium” in recent years, but that does not mean you have to pay five-star prices.

Some ways to save up to 30% on that kibble bill, according to Levine: Buy in bulk, but store in airtight containers to preserve freshness. Comparison shop for best prices at Chewy.com or Amazon, or warehouse outlets like Costco and Sam’s Club.

And be sure to maximize the use of promotional savings and coupons. In addition, take advantage of the “subscribe and save” option for regular online purchases.

MEDICATION

One cost you cannot really avoid is medication – either for specific conditions, or for ongoing preventative care such as for fleas or heartworm. But you do you have some flexibility in where you get those medications from, and how much you pay.

“There are several websites that offer discounts on over-the-counter and prescription medicines, like Chewy.com and 1800petmeds.com,” says Brandi Hunter Munden, vice president of communications for the American Kennel Club. “There are also companies that have coupons, like GoodRx.”

Of course, as any pet parent will tell you, the love and companionship are worth any costs a hundred times over. Just be aware that it will probably set you back more than you expect.

“It’s important to have the budget, and the resources, and the bandwidth in your life. And if you do — then you just can’t beat the love of a dog,” Keniston says.

Editing by Lauren Young and Lisa Shumaker Follow us @ReutersMoney or at <a href=”http://www.reuters.com/finance/personal-finance.” target=”_blank”>http://www.reuters.com/finance/personal-finance.</a>

Our Standards: The Thomson Reuters Trust Principles.