08 February 2012


Hi friends. I will be indefinitely be taking a hiatus from normal daily life activities so I can hole up in my room and watch Mad Men on Netflix for hours at a time. Don't be worried or anything, I'm completely used to watching show for an almost perpetual amount of time. My eyes won't fall out or anything (FOR SURE) so you don't have to call Kaiser. 

Let me just say this first, I can't help but to anticipate something preposterously dramatic happening, like Betty will open the door and a serial killer will ransack her house and leave her in different pieces in the basement (THATS NEVER GOING TO HAPPEN). Do they even have a basement? 

Anyway, this show is so flippin great. I finally was able to put my finger on what it was I liked so much about it today. The writing is impeccably done,  not in a storyline sort of way but cohesively as an era. It just makes me feel like I'm getting to live vicariously in the sixties through these characters.

The writers write in so many different facets of the 1960's "woman," you can see that they're all trying to conform to this Marilyn/Jackie mold but at the same time, they juxapose that with all the lush personalities everybody has. I love all of the characters so so much. Especially Peggy Olsen. You really see her quietly emerging through the seasons and I always inadvertently pull my elbow towards my hip with my fist closed in triumph whenever she climbs another stair in being a woman in the sixties.

Of course I'd be lying a little bit if I said I didn't watch Mad Men for January Jones and Christina Hendericks. They are perfect. Every shot. Always. Betty Draper has got to be one of the most graceful women gracing modern television right now and Joan Holloway is the epitome of woman woman woman. When I'm not fawning over how beautiful these women are I'm all over how they smoke in every single scene and that they end so many episodes with Bob Dylan. It's seriously the best.

I'm also obsessed with the over-saturated technicolor color that sixties clothing was drenched in. Everything about the prints and polyester can be dumped in my cup of tea. It was a different time back then. People would be caught dead in wearing pajamas in public in the sixties, which throws me onto this tangent I've been ITCHING to address. I saw countless people clad in sweatpants and uggs today. It was slightly sprinkling in the morning. Why do people always think its okay to dress like crap on rainy days? Did they take one look outside the window in the morning and just decide they give up on life today because its a little grey? I take it as common courtesy to make yourself look presentable in public. The way you present yourself in public is a reflection on how you see yourself so get it together PLEASE!


Coco Layne