Michigan & Blow
South St. Louis, MO
That poor window… it reminds me of Roy Orbison.
Imagine the person who made the decision to smother it in shingles.
Imagine the hassle the roofers’ faced while doing so.
Imagine what it looks like from the inside.
What an odd, sad thing to do to that poor window…
The May issue of Vanity Fair made a huge blunder. I read it once, twice, thrice, and even as I highlighted the mistake in pink (above, click to enlarge), I still don’t comprehend.
The BROTHERS Ray & Charles Eames?
Come on, this is Vanity Fair, the first and last word on mass-market high culture and high celebrities.
Even po-dunk cow town St. Louis knew that when they placed Charles on the STL Walk Of Fame that Ray was his wife.
Even for the design unaware, a quick Google of their names gives you facts and photos that clarify their gender and marital status.
Even if the press release from the museum hosting the exhibit didn’t specify gender, doesn’t VF have fact checkers on the payroll?
A mistake like this in, say, US Weekly would be understandable. But Vanity Fair?
Wow.
Jefferson Avenue @ Hwy 40
St. Louis, MO
Swank Motion Pictures. I surely can’t be alone with thinking, upon first seeing this place, this was where they made stag films. But since stag became porno which then became porn, they maybe kept the name because they now made retro porn? Swank is a colorful word, conjuring strong images, and this building just reeks of stag reels in the basement rumpus room, 5 men downing Schlitz, taking advantage of the wife and kids visiting the mother-in-law. But alas, Swank is the name of the owners, and they do legitimate corporate film work. Ho hum…
Manchester Road
Rock Hill, MO
Here’s another building which is much more fanciful in my mind than in reality. I see the name of Ansa Ring, and always think of Susanswerphone, the home base of activity in the effervescent MGM musical Bells Are Ringing. My unsung hero, Miss Judy Holliday, plays a switchboard operator at a call center, and that of course leads to finding love with playwright Dean Martin, at his most swoonable.
But alas, it’s just a dry answering and voice mail service for doctors and lawyers… well, there could be a playwright. It’s not so far-fetched. Other than equipment, what makes this modern-day version of an answering service different than a 1960s version? Especially with that name and that swanky font, how can I avoid such fantasies?
Above is a movie lobby card from the film. It hangs in my bathroom. Solely for intense amusement, I’m always tempted to make a copy of it, and on some evening, sneak up and staple gun it to the outside of their building. But the Rock Hill police (Hi, Radar Ron!) are pretty eagle-eyed, so simply sharing the idea with you will have to suffice.
1111 South Compton Avenue
St. Louis, MO
On Compton between LaSalle and Hickory Avenues, there was this lone, single-family house. I’ve lived in South St. Louis for 13+ years and it was always vacant. It wasn’t anything remarkable save for the fact that it was the only survivor of what had once been a typically dense city block. In March, a small crew had been dispatched to carefully dismantle the building for brick salvage.
Every day for one week, I took pictures of it from the same vantage points just to see a mini-movie of demolition play out, frame by frame.
Turns out that Saint Louis University owns this property. Actually, they own many full blocks of property in this immediate area. Considering that SLU is currently erecting a new building a few blocks west at Chouteau & Grand (photo below, left side), this is no big surprise. Just wondering if SLU will reuse all the brick they’re demolishing for all these new projects.
The current issue of Arch City Chronicles features a piece I did on Demetrie Kabbaz, the man behind the mysterious Marilyn Shrine. It was a nice way to formally honor the man behind the art that kept me enthralled for so long.
Here’s the story, in original blog entry order:
May 10, 2005
May 29, 2005
August 4, 2005
September 25, 2005
October 23, 2005
December 6, 2005
And here’s to many more reels in the Technicolor MGM musical that is Kabbaz!
As the grassroots SUV backlash slowly grows, some communities turn their gaze to “Hummer Houses” being inappropriate for their established neighborhoods.
MSN covers the topic here.
It also outlines the steps communities can take to minimize or stop the teardown trend:
5 Ways To Fight The McMansion Expansion.
When the mainstream media continually uses this topic as a general-interest catch-all, then there’s hope that environmental logic and lifestyle sensibility will one day be deciding factors in new home building. Don the rose colored glasses…
The new issue of Arch City Chronicle is out, and I’m a part of it.
Though I’ve written for them in the past, they asked me to be a regular contributor to their new architecture/real estate/design section. Basically, I’ll do B.E.L.T. entries in print. Nice work if you can get it.
Click on the image if you want to actually read it. Or, if you’re in St. Louis, just pick up a copy.
A few years ago, I bought these chairs for a $1.50 each at a thrift store. They were in perfect condition, look ultra cool and perfectly serve their function in my sunroom. Well, almost perfect. I’m a Libra (sign of the balancing scales) so I’ve never had any problems sitting in these 3-legged chairs. But I’ve had a few guests who’ve had issues with remaining upright, and simply sit in the 4-legged chair options around the same table.
One of those 4-Legs-Preferred friends sent me this:
Several months ago, they found this clip from a 1960s-era Sears catalog on some long-forgotten website. $100 for the entire dining set! And isn’t it lovely in its Danish Modernism? Hard to verify from this tiny photo, but my chairs may even have the original black vinyl seat upholstery.
The chairs still have the original tag on the underside:
Made By The Holabird Company, Bryan, Ohio
I learned that Holabird was founded in Chicago in 1899 and moved to Ohio during WW1. They manufactured “wood novelties and advertising specialties,” and Sears was obviously a major client. I just got such a kick out of learning the provenance of ultra-cheap, ultra-cool chairs after all this time, that I just had to share.
Adelaide & Hall Street
North St. Louis, MO
The only bright spot in one of the ugliest industrial parts of town is this sign. I’d love to hear the story of the incident that prompted this constant reminder.
Thank you to Katie White Snow for passing on this piece about the disappearing 76 Union gas balls.
The ConocoPhillips corporation obviously wants to update their image, which always translates to “lose the personality.” It’s also odd that a British journalist – and his editor – feel it’s important to cover such an indigenous piece of Americana Car Culture. But bully for them.
Please visit the site dedicated to saving the 76 balls, maybe even sign the petition.