Archive for November, 2013

Taking The Cake

Tuesday, November 26th, 2013

NapaCakes

Revered as the original power bar, Panforte literally means “strong bread.” Solidly spiced and tougher than hockey pucks, Panforte packs nuts and dried fruit into a dense little disc of dessert-worthy nutrition.

NapaCake

I’d never had Panforte before, but since the makers at Napa Cakes wrap up their sugar-coated power pellets so sweetly, I thought I’d get a jump on the holidays with some Sienna-style fruitcake and give one a try!

Now I’m Laying Around In The Dark

Thursday, November 21st, 2013

I guess when you suddenly go from neglected ‘lil sista to heiress of indie-queen fortunes, you only have enough time to put out a music video like once a year, tops. The main thing I love about this Salon-Jay (as Hurly pronounces it) clip is it takes not much of anything and makes it definitively something.

Every film I ever made, back in the day, followed that same secret recipe. We used way less metallic shirts than Solange now does, but fat regrets are a fact of life.

There’s also a making-of video where Salon-Jay cites choreographical inspiration from Minneapolis masters The Time. Girl gots taste.

(And in even newer news, Baby Knowles also has a slow-burning brand new single out. Cash In.)

Totes Naked

Monday, November 18th, 2013

For at least as long as I’ve been posting here on The Treasury, I’ve wanted an all-leather tote to take around when my everyday bag isn’t quite big enough. Something caramel colored, I always thought, and sufficiently sturdy.

AmericanApparelLeatherTote

This fall I spotted these Sturdy Leather Totes halfway across the store at American Apparel and almost ran right toward them. Crafted in black or natural, they’re hard and hefty, with an envelope pocket in front, and an invisible magnetic closure on top.

AmericanApparelLeatherBag

Almost overly understated, if you want the bags to read as southwestern or workshoppy they certainly will, but they just as easily evoke a more modernist, man-about-town mode. Tell someone they’re by Alexander Wang and I bet you’d get away with it.

AmericanAparelLeatherBag

The natural colored tote that I preferred, the American Apparel website explains, will darken over time to a rich Kentucky bourbon color from wear and the application of mink’s oil. I’m in no rush for that. I like the naked fleshiness of the bag as it is now and will be interested to see how long it stays this lite/brite.

 

Ace Hotel & Swim Club

Wednesday, November 13th, 2013

We’re still deciding exactly when and where to do our official honeymoon, but the day after we got married Hurly and I headed to Palm Springs for a four day pre-honeymoon – or “honey’muse-bouche” as I dumbly dubbed it.

AceHotelPalmSprings

Most people want to visit certain countries or celebrated cities. Part of me does too, but more and more my soul is centered around wanting to stay in certain hotels. We chose Palm Springs for a number of reasons, the main one being it’s where the Ace Hotel & Swim Club is located.

AceHotelSwimClub

Built as a Howard Johnson’s in the 1960s, the complex remains true to its roadside motel roots. It’s the majorly stoned site of the next five Lana Del Rey videos, the cinder-blocked setting of that sweat-stained Matthew McConaughey movie you never got around to seeing cause it never got around to being made.

AceHotelCheckIn

Being an Ace, I knew it’d be hip. But having never stayed at an Ace, I didn’t know if it’d be dickish and douchey.

AceHotelKingsHighway

We arrived on site a few hours before our room was ready, so we headed to the hotel’s re-did restaurant, King’s Highway, for a lazy lunch. Originally a Denny’s, the restaurant has maintained its diner-style counters with swiveling stools, refrigerated dessert case, and breakfast-all-day menu.

JamaicaPie

The food as well nods to the site’s greasy spoon past but updates it with a Californi’organic twist. Fish tacos, kale and date salads. Sunshiny stuff like that. They had something called Jamaica Pie which was key lime with hibiscus and worth a try just for its name alone.

WilliamRees

They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and it must be true, because after two bites of Jamaica pie I was in full-on crush mode for King’s Highway and falling hard for The Ace all around.

AceHotelLight

We’d reserved a honeymoon-worthy suite. It was big, but the little things made the biggest impression on me like the Red Nosed Reindeer double bulbed sconces over the bed…

HaveaCornChips

And the happy bag of Have’A corn chips stocked in our mini bar.

AceHotelWindow

After we got settled in our room we explored the grounds, armed with no less than three cameras with which to mount the first of our many Married-Men photoshoots.

AceHotelTrailer

FiberArt

LimeTree

Our suite had two patios. The larger one had a citrus tree growing over the wall…

AceHotelFireplace

And a fireplace I’d enjoy each morning while waiting (and waiting and waiting) semi-patiently for Hurly to eventually wake up.

FeelGoodSpa

One day we hit the Feel Good Spa. I considered a hippie-dippy spirit cleanse involving crystals, but went for a clay wrap instead. It basically felt like getting massaged by melting butter and some warm maple syrup and there ain’t nothing not delicious about how that feels.

A724306-R1-13-12

The Amigo Room, the hotel’s dark and divey bar regularly books live musical acts.

TheAmigoRoom

Hurly and I stayed up way past my bedtime our last night at The Ace to check out some cigarette-jeaned band that was scheduled to go on at 10. While they set up their instruments I stayed busy by super-modeling mob-boss style.

AceHotelSign

I’m usually ready to head back home after a vacation winds down but leaving The Ace was absolutely awful. It wasn’t the least bit dickish or douchey. Every staff member was warm and normal, not icy or intimidating. Every sign, and sofa, and song, and french fry, and bathrobe, and cactus at the complex was perfect and magical.

AceHotelMarkWill

It’s bar none my favorite hotel I’ve ever been to. And it doesn’t make tons of sense to go back to it right away, instead of finally going to Japan or seeing what Africa is like or visiting the town they filmed Twin Peaks in, but I mostly don’t care.

I just wanna go back to The Ace, ASAP.

Tied

Tuesday, November 5th, 2013

On our tenth anniversary of being together, Hurly and I drove to the ritzy courthouse in St. Paul and got hitched. Like legally!

For someone who can hardly buy a bottle of spring water without wonder-worrying about its aesthetic impact on their life, I was surprisingly intent on keeping our big day totally low key. I wanted the focal point of our nuptials to be us and our love, not how expertly/obnoxiously art-directed and Design*Sponge-y every needless little detail was. Enough of my life is sacrificed ritually to the Style Gods above. A wedding day seems like it should be void of all that ego-driven energy.

I mean, I own American Apparel tote bags more expensive than my suit was. And I looked at dozens of rings but the one that excited me the most was a vintage, twenty-buck thing off etsy. From top to bottom, our wedding day remained remarkably immune to my otherwise omni-present materialism.

And although we had small-scale simplicity in mind from the beginning, that isn’t to say that plotting our wedding day was easy or stressless. Being among the first same-sex couples to be married in our state, Hurly and I were working without a template or set of traditions to follow that reflects our generation’s revamped definition of marriage.

We kept it simple, partly just because we’re two dudes who grew up figuring weddings were for everyone but people like us, but I really hope in the coming decade that same-sex couples will begin to establish their own thoughtful traditions for future generations to adopt. And that it gets easier and clearer to envision what a Guy on Guy wedding should/could be.

Once it finally went down, our own Guy on Guy day was great. I don’t remember what words our judge used to tell Hurly and I that it was finally legal and that we could kiss, but after we kissed, all I wanted was a hug. Not from my new husband, exactly – but from my old friend, from my favorite friend.

My first pet name for him was Treasure and the name of this blog actually (plus my whole life) is a wink and a nod to him.