Pittsburgh Dish

Trendwatch!

Footwear report

A dispassionate observer stationed at the corner of S. Craig and Henry streets reports that 86.2 percent of Oakland Catholic schoolgirls wear Ugg boots or some knockoff variation thereof. Uggs are often worn with denim skirts, bikinis and/or visible undergarnments.

This observer also noted that these pre-women also wear matching skirts and sweaters, though he believes that this may be part of some uniform dress code rather than a matter of teen pack mentality.

Also, Oakland Catholic girls seem to be exclusively female. More on this as it develops.

Dippy's fashion secrets revealed

Carnegie Museum of Natural History boasts well-attired Diplodocus Carnegii

All of us, save for the daring, put our pants on one leg at a time. The Carnegie Museum of Natural History's Dippy (a life-sized replica of what Dish calls the Dappersaurus), needs a little assistance to become the prehistoric version of Beau Brummell.

Over Dish's tenure as your premier source for dinosaur-related news, Dippy has been spotted supporting the Steelers in his black and gold scarf. During the Tour de France, he was helmeted. Around the Christmas season, his lengthy neck was warmed by a red and green scarf.

So does Dippy have a stylist? Sort of.

Dippy just doesn't wake up in the morning an throw on just any old thing.

"Someone might contact us and ask that we dress him in a certain way," said Carnegie Museum spokewoman Ellen James. "This month his red scarf honors heart disease awareness."

After Dippy's ensemble has been sorted out, James said that a grounds crew employee climbs up a ladder to adorn Dippy. Dish couldn't contact said dresser as he was scouring NYC's garment district choosing Dippy's spring collection.

So, Dish asks, what would you like to see Dippy wear? An ascot? A feather boa? A real boa? Do tell.

South to North Vest

Vintage clothing shop happy on the North Side.

Five months after Rachel Vallozzi moved her vintage clothing store from the South Side, the owner of Kharisma sees potential on the North Side.

Though the City Paper described the neighborhood as a “sea of flannel” and “bemused” to the concept of fashion, 26 year-old Vallozzi remains optimistic about moving away from the Frat Side of Pittsburgh. She and her partner Claire Louise opened the darling 350 square-foot shop on the business stretch along Western Avenue.

"I love the new store, the new location, the new set up,” said Vallozzi. “The neighborhood is so much more relaxed and beautiful with better parking, the store feels more like a boutique and is much more manageable.”

Walking traffic is a challenge until retail begins to flourish along Western Ave. but Vallozzi hopes to lure in Community County of Allegheny College (CCAC) students who park nearby

The biggest surprise/challenge about the North Side is that there are all these college kids that park across the street from the store and don't come in,” said Vallozzi. “We are working on starting a conversation with them about bringing them into the local businesses.”

Just after the store opened, Vallozzi told the City Paper she has to convince the neighbors that they aren’t “scary.” The story describes how people reacted to her vintage outfit in a local pizza restaurant.

"Even now a few of those neighbors, Peppi’s middle-aged lunch crowd, are regarding the women with equal parts intrigue and bemusement,” the article read.

Some of that trepidation has waned and Vallozzi feels confident she made the right move.

(Note to City Paper: Some North Siders can appreciate a 1950s Lilli Ann but prefer to wear last year’s L.L. Bean.)

Kharisma, 812 Western Ave., 412-231-0834. Call for hours.

A corpse is a corpse, a corpse of course

Almost every city has smelled that smell. But few have the commemorative T-shirt.

A few years ago there was this funeral director in Georgia. His crematorium oven was busted. So what did he do with the remains of folks entrusted to his care? Buried them in shallow graves nearby. Nice.

In October, the Pittsburgh area had it's own funerary, um, unpleasantries when boxes of newborn baby remains were found stacked in a McKeesport ex-funeral director's garage. Now that's caring.

Last month, up in Hamden, Conn., adjacent to Mr. and Mrs. Dish's old drinking grounds in New Haven, Paul Moraski of Colonial Funeral Home was accused of storing an unrefrigerated corpse for two months before delivering it to the crematorium. What a sweet man.

None of this is funny.

OK, the last item is. Not because Dish revels in the suffering of the family of the guy left to unceremoniously decompose above ground; rather because of this T-shirt, which is real. Real in that Moraski used this actual T-shirt to actually advertise his actual business. (Read Mrs. Dish 's story on Moraski below).

Somehow this silkscreened piece of cotton makes the allegation seem--what's the word Dish is looking for here ... Plausible? Likely? Certain?

From the New Haven Advocate by Colleen Van Tassell:

Don't give Paul Moraski any more ideas on how to dig up more business. He might, just might, offer frequent dier miles.

He might, just might, show up at your late Aunt Freida's graveside, kick the casket like tire wheels and say, "I could've done better than that."

Moraski is New Haven's Crazy Eddie of death.

He slashes prices. He kills the competition. He'll do anything to dig up more business. He might even dig you up, throw you a funeral, then rebury you.

His TV commercials (possibly the only commercials not produced by Ed Wood that contain coffins, bikinis, boats and gambling) and billboards (tisk-tisked by neighbors for tackiness) have assailed the good taste of an ashes-to-ashes public who like their undertakers knocking on heaven's gate minus the knock knock jokes.

Moraski's approach to undercutting competitors (his Yellow Page's ad is the only one with a price list) hasn't exactly rendered him many beer ball invites at the morticians' convention. And his latest addition to his "Bury Grandma Cheaper" marketing onslaught is only going to further ruffle his fellow grim reapers. He's now boasting T-shirts which read: "We Want Your Body" on the front and "When your organs stop ours begin" on the back.

He claims he wants people to spend money on earth (hence the boats, bikinis and gambling) instead of in the earth. He claims he wants to cross ethnic and racial barriers where "Irish go to Irish funeral homes, Italians go to Italians." That's why his commercials show an African-American man pop out of a casket after hearing about the high price of his own funeral, as well as a white woman.

Hey, Moraski's an equal opportunity body snatcher, he says.

As for the T-shirt, remember not to bury your loved one in it. Moraski would miss the exposure. Unless, of course, it were an open casket.

Of course this means Warhol...

Words that rhyme with “Andy”: Handy, sandy, gandy (as in gandy dancer), bandy (as in bandy about), shandy (a British mix of soda and beer) candy and Hollywoodland.

Landy sakes! The Dandy Warhols have a new album out! The band has about as much to do with the artist for whom they are named as the Rolling Stones have to do with the poetry of Robert W. Service, but there are a few slight connections worth mentioning. First, the band’s debt to the Velvet Underground resonates in long jams like “Love is the New Awful” and “Everyone is Totally Insane.”

Then there’s the Dandy’s boas-and-nudity fashion sense, very Factory. Third, there’s the heroin chic and the laissez-faire attitude. Warhol’s a much greater muse to other rockers: Reed and Cale, obviously, who did a concept album about him, but also bands as diverse as the Cars, Super 8 and all those disco divas who got cover stories in Interview magazine.The Dandy Warhols, like the Mr. T Experience and even their Dig! rivals The Brian Jonestown Massacre, have a name which is ultimately distracting and misdirected. Sonically, they might as well be the Ddavid Hockneys, the Droy Lichtensteins or the Dleroy Neimans.

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Last month I had the pleasure of talking with Peter Zaremba, lead singer and head hip-swiveler for New York’s power rock vindicators The Fleshtones. In the course of our discussion (portions of which appear in the Sept. 10 issue of the New Haven Advocate), guess who came up? “We knew Warhol to the degree that we played on this TV show he had, 15 Minutes. We were on the last show. A guy like him, who feigned not to know what was going on around him—so that he could function in the world—really knew what was going on.” The Fleshtones’ memorable collaboration with Ian McKellan, who reads a Shakespearean sonnet to their impromptu musical accompaniment—was an outtake from that broadcast.

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Here’s the real stuff all those fashion journos should have been planting in their features about the Warhol Foundation licensing Andy’s name and designs for a new line of Levi’s Jeans:

“I believe in bluejeans too.”

“The ones made by Levi Strauss are the best-cut, best-looking pair of pants that have ever been designed by anybody. Nobody will ever top the original bluejeans. They can’t be bought old, they have to be bought new and they have to be worn by the person. To get that look. And they can’t be phoney [sic] bleached or phoney anything. You know that little pocket? It’s so crazy to have that little pocket, like for a twenty-dollar gold piece.”

“French bluejeans?”

“No, American are the best. Levi Strauss. With the little copper buttons. Studded for evening wear.”

“How do you keep them clean, B?”

“You wash them.”

“Do you iron them?”

“No, I put fabric softener. The only person who irons them is Geraldo Rivera.” The talk of bluejeans was making me very jealous. Of Levi and Strauss. I wish I could invent something like bluejeans. Something to be remembered for. Something mass."

“I want to die with my bluejeans,” I heard myself say.

--from The Philosophy of Andy Warhol, Band 1: How Andy Puts His Warhol On

(Harcourt BraceJovanovich, 1975)

Alas, Warhol did not die with his jeans on, nor his boots. Perhaps some enterprising medical-outfit designer will be inspired to silkscreen a soup can onto surgery patients’ gowns.

Of Course This Means Warhol...

Andy's pants: A tight fit.

by Christopher Arnott

Best description of the artist, from “Can Andy Warhol lend Levi’s the right kind of cool?,” Cristina Rouvalis’ article in the Post-Gazette Aug. 30:

“He was always young," Sokolowski said of the artist who had a nose job and predicted the plastic surgery craze.

Here’s how other publications, covering the same distressed, faded and bangled story, about a Warholized line of Levi’s jeans set to debut next spring, tried to cleverly connect Andy to pants.

"It's a very natural fit and it's very much in line with what he did in his lifetime," said Hermann, who pointed to Warhol's interest in commercialism as seen in his paintings of Campbell's soup cans and Marilyn Monroe. (Pia Sarkar, San Francisco Chronicle)

Levi Strauss & Co., whose jeans were worn by Andy Warhol and appeared in his works… (Toronto Globe & Mail)

The Pop artist remains part of the fashion scene -- thanks to his nonprofit foundation, which licenses his artwork on clothes, china, luggage and even rugs. (Detroit News)

Warhol wore Levi's. (worldofwonder.net)

"This is the pairing of two great American icons to bring trend-right product to consumers looking for something truly original and authentic." (Business Wire)

Levi’s relationship with the artist dates to 1984, when it commissioned him to create art for its “501 Blues” ad campaign. “He wore Levi’s most of his life,” said Amy Gemellaro, a spokeswoman for the jeans maker. (LA Times)

Back to Rouvalis:

“Others aren't so sure Andy Warhol's eternal hipness is going to rub off on denim.”

Photo: LA Times

You go girls

Psssst!

Gays go straight.

Update: No go on the gay event. Max's was Max Factor free. Darn.

…thought how cool it would be to get a bunch of your queer friends together and go somewhere new? …wondered how you ended up in the middle of the dance floor at the same queer bar dancing to the same song you danced to last week…again? …felt uncomfortable in a straight bar with your straight friends and daydreamed about running into lots of cute queer boys or girls when you got up to get a drink? …wanted to bring your queer friends and straight friends together in one place?

So have we!

On the First Friday of every month, we pick a Pittsburgh straight bar. All you have to do is get dolled up, show up, and teach the shocked straight folk how to have a blast! Join to find out about our monthly "invasions" at Pittsburgh’s straightest establishments.

--from PGHguerillaqueerbar on Yahoo Groups

(Sounds like a hoot. Max's wienerschnitzel will never be the same.)

Scoop du Jour: Nakama Mama

A Japanese joint where the tempura is extra spicy...

Nakama Japanese Steakhouse & Sushi Bar

(1611 E Carson St, South Side, 412-381-6000) is the place to be seen (read: if the P-G magazine of the same name had a section for the butterfly tattoo midriff set this would be the place) on the South Side. A hibachi restaurant. No kidding.

You'll feel like the Clampetts at the opera if you arrive in dirty jeans and ripped t-shirts (unless, of course, Flash Dance rears its ugly head again). Everyone is decked out as if Steve Rubell set the dress code.

And from the Who Knew? File: Nakama packs plenty of cleavage. You'll have that in places where the adjacent bar offers flirty fruity drinks with long straws. And let's not forget we gals must lean into a volcano.

So why has Nakama been such a huge success? Is it the prime Carson Street location? The food? Or could it possibly be that Pittsburghers don’t want to drink beer and scarf down wings wearing ratty college sweatshirts anymore?

Maybe our fair city is beginning to embrace a more trendy dining scene rivaling that New York City or LA. OK, maybe that's a stretch. Still, Nakama shows no signs of fizzling out anytime soon.

Let's hope Nakama survives before the next "to die for" spot busts, er, bursts on to the scene.

Oh, yeah, the food is pretty good.

-Katie Johnston

Style File: Mane lining

Attention Pittsburgh: There is a plague crippling our fair metropolis. It can be seen from the shores of the Mon to the top of Mount Lebanon. From the North Side to Oakland and at every bus stop in between.

This evil, this menace to all that is good and holy is....The Scrunchie. Yes, the scrunchie. Those repugnant elastic bands covered with fabric made famous by late 80s/early 90s teens, tramps and Linda Evans.

Why, oh why, won't they go away?

Shoulder pads slipped off, leggings kicked the bucket, charm necklaces high-tailed it out of Great Neck. Hell, Madonna stopped grabbing her cooch. Yet why do Pittsburgh women still fancy these things? Nostalgia? Is it similar to the inexplicable attachment to the bi-level haircut favored by carnies and guys from New Jersey?

Why, oh why, are woman still taking fashion cues from Elaine Bennis and Crystal Bernard? Why are the gay men of Pittsburgh allowing this?

Deep breaths.

Now it is said--as proven by statistical data and pot smokers--that Twinkies and Sno Balls have a shelf life of 10 years, possibly more. Cans of beans have expiration dates preferred by nutbags awaiting Armageddon. But somehow the hair scrunchie seems to possess prolongation properties similar to those of the interminable cockroach.

Who or what is to blame for this wrong-headed preservation? You're not going to like the answer, my friends. I blame this scrunchie epidemic on...The Steelers.

That's right. Your beloved hometown team. The Black & Gold.

Exhibit A: Any Steelers catalog. There it is, wedged between the tube top and panty brief: The Steeler Scrunchie (listed for $4.89, reduced from $6.99). Shame on you Steelers. Not only are you suborning poor taste, your doing so on sale. And as long as NFL merchandizing big wigs continue to offer these malevolent mane tethers, the good ladies of Pittsburgh will never topple this beehive of bad taste.

Quoth Susan Power: “Stop the Insanity!” (And she wore scrunchies.)

Gals of Pittsburgh I beseech thee: Are we not are sending the wrong message to our girls? Must we unite and declare war against The Steel Curtain? Or will we be forever shamed when an"I Love the 80s" film crew sets up on Grant Street?

Learn. I did. The hard way.

Until the age of 19 I was a scrunchie addict. I believed that no other hair band could grip my impossible amount of hair. I was wrong. But I needed to hear the words.

In the most polite and discreet way, my roommates alerted me to my abhorrent fashion sense. In unison they decried:

"Dude, get that nasty-ass thing out of your hair."

-Katie Johnston (with Colleen Van Tassell) with apologies to Jody DiPerna.

Style File

The second installment of Post-Gazette's Seen (their "society" magazine dedicated to hats, brats and spats) hit the stoop yesterday and the Dish was captivated by their choices for the city's "Best Dressed."

It appears that unbeknownst to Seen editors they've managed to document the yin and yang of Pittsburgh's "fashion plates." It's a silly publication but a gratuitous guilty pleasure at that.

Let's have a gander, shall we?

They've captured the look of the "working girl" and working girl; "fetish" and fetish; "Laugh-In" and LOL; school girl and "school girl." And in this week's issue (sorry folks you must have it in your hot little paws): Horror (pg. 26) and horror (pg. 34).

We've posted a photo of a gal spotted on the observatory deck at the Duquesne Incline on her wedding day. We liked her style. She taught us that carnations are easier on the eyes than roses.

PNC: Perfectly Nonsensical Couture

Four inch heels, gold straps? For a ballgame? Don't they hurt?

Dish's mother-in-law Judy has a knack for spotting ensembles and footwear worn to Pirate games that seem a little unsuited for baseball games. The Dish fashion department deplores what passes as contemporary casual (read: bare chests, untied Timberlands, exposed thongs). We certainly appreciate the occasional sport coat worn to a restaurant. 

As we report we remember a gaggle of giggling girls walking toward Hi-Tops, a nearby sports bar where the average patron spends too much time perfecting their text messaging skills and not enough perusing the thesaurus for alternatives to "awesome."