Ann Margret as Nora Walker Hobbs in Ken Russell’s 1975 film “Tommy”. This scene, not to mention the whole film, was absolutely formative for me (and apparently I’m not alone). It opens with a drunk Nora watching TV in her all-white glam boudoir; on the screen is an ad for baked beans, “Fit For A Queen.” Nora throws a champagne bottle through the TV set, soap suds and baked beans pour out into the white bedroom, and she writhes, laughing, in the surreal, psychedelic mess.

 See Hilly Blue’s excellent collection of film stills at  Flickr.

That’s according to the New York Times, and since nostalgia seems to work in 20-year cycles, I guess anyone could have seen it coming. If, as the article says, the 90s were the sci fi thing and the Breeders, then excellent, but … what is that orange outfit! Do I not remember the 90s correctly? No matter what they were, though, anything is better than the 80s, the decade that just makes me go Reagan Thatcher Reagan Thatcher Reagan Thatcher Shoulderpads in a loop. I realize this view is unpopular. Sorry. From the NYT’s blog The Moment :

Show after show this week in London, the Y.B.D.’s were designing like it was 1995. Topshop’s Unique collection, in the hands of the stylist Katie Grand, mined the junkyard-rave aesthetic of the cult classic “Tank Girl” to mixed results. Charles Anastase’s “autobiographical” collection paid homage to the unsung icons of grunge — think the D.I.Y. style of Kelly and Kim Deal, of the alt-rock band the Breeders, and Rayanne Graff, the too-cool-for-school character played by A.J. Langer on the teen drama “My So-Called Life.” Chances are that only the hipsters who crash his shows will be savvy enough to appreciate this.

See also Aeon Flux and read this review on gawker.

“What do they DO in there?” I think that’s what many women wonder when they hear the term “gentlemen’s club.” There are some of us girls, you know, who would actually like a comfortable club like this of our own where no one ever mentions Sex and the City. This club isn’t our usual decor style, truth be told, but it’s so well done it transcends the usual boundaries. The rough-hewn tables juxtaposed with velvet settees, and the harlequin floor that just fades into whiteness – it’s a seamless eclecticism mixing medieval tavern, 18th and 19th C furniture and early 20th C modern. That clock – is it Father Time’s wristwatch? We can’t find a mention of the interior designer’s name anywhere.

From here via here.