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OCT/NOV 2011 − VOLUME 71


51 Ways to Go Green Without Going Broke Planet-friendly looks you’ll love

Urban Farming Made Easy



women save the world d! world!

How ladies are leading the eco-revolution


Mindy Kaling




Contents 46


52 40 WORKING GIRL From Kelly Kapoor to your local bookstore, The Office’s Mindy Kaling is keeping comedy fans in stitches. By Jill Soloway

46 DIRTY GIRLS Resourceful urban farmers are giving new meaning to the term asphalt jungle. By Stephanie Fisher

52 THE LAST MERMAIDS Korea’s Jeju Island is sustained by a long tradition of female free-diving that is in danger of coming to an end. By Alison Flowers


56 CLEAN SLATE Jenny Slate’s latest creation, Marcel the Shell, is putting her back on the comedy map. By Anna Bean

60 HIT THE DECK See the Greenpeace eco-activist ship the Arctic Sunrise through the eyes of its firstever all-female deckhand crew. By Blaire Briody

64 SUPERNATURAL BEAUTY Country singer Nikki Lane gets gussied up in fall’s best eco-friendly fashions. Photographed by Glynis Selina Arban, styling by Lara Backmender


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REGULARS 6 EDITOR’S LETTER 8 DEAR BUST 11 BROADCAST Kreayshawn is putting Oakland rap on the map; Miss Representation hits Oprah’s TV station; the Teal Cat Project is in full effect; and more. 12 She-bonics Beyoncé, Miranda July, Zooey Deschanel, and Adele have secrets to tell. By Whitney Dwire 16 Pop Quiz Harper Lee’s tome stands the test of time. By Emily Rems 18 Hot Dates October and November events to remember. By Libby Zay 19 Boy du Jour Workaholics’ Blake Anderson is sweet as a honey bun. By Lisa Butterworth


23 Real Life DIY bitters will make your drinks better; learn the foster parenting ropes from someone who knows; mix up some toothpaste to suit your taste; and more. 24 Old School Obaachan’s Miso Soup. By Jenni Gwiazdowski 27 Buy or DIY Join the bento box lunch bunch! By Callie Watts


33 Looks Talkin’ Tokyo street style with fashion blogger La Carmina; the Ettes’ multi-talented drummer tries her hand at design; the slow clothing movement takes its time; and more. 36 BUST Test Kitchen. Our interns get spoiled with cleansing towelettes, scented soap, and body oil. 37 Good Stuff Budget-friendly green gift picks. By Stephanie J

Columns 14 Pop Tart Hollywood’s wedding bells hit a sour note. By Wendy McClure 15 Museum of Femoribilia Did round garters possess supernatural powers? By Lynn Peril 22 News From a Broad Saudi women hit the road for equality. By Kara Buller 26 Nickel and Dined Sweet potato pancakes with whiskey-kissed candied pecans. By Isa Chandra Moskowitz 32 Mother Superior Elementary endings. By Ayun Halliday 38 Around the World in 80 Girls Salem, Mass, is a gas! By Alexandra Pecci 95 X Games Breaking the Curse. By Deb Amlen



The BUST Guide 73 Music Reviews; plus tour talk with Deborah Harry! 80 Movies In the Texas Killing Fields, Janie Jones is known as a Dirty Girl. 81 Books Reviews; plus, Jennifer Baumgardner says F’em! 90 BUSTshop 96 The Last Laugh Tammy Pierce is up to her old tricks. By Esther Pearl Watson


86 Sex Files Earth-friendly Luna Pads are rad; and more. 86 Questions for the Queen Dr. Carol Queen helps a gal who can’t keep her hands off Hitachi’s Magic Wand. 88 One-Handed Read Slippery When Wet. By Rakel Thorpe


earth girls are easy I’M SURE IT has occurred to you that in most major religions, the creator of the universe is considered to be a dude —I’m talking Yahweh and Allah, along with the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. So it’s kind of surprising that nature is often presented as female. We have “Mother Nature” and “Mother Earth,” terms that date back at least as far as the 12th century (thanks, Wikipedia). And I suppose there are plenty of parallels to be drawn between ladies and the land. For one, the earth, like a woman, is fertile; it provides us with life and with life-sustaining nourishment. And for another, the earth, like women, is often taken for granted, undervalued, and really not given the R-E-S-P-E-C-T she deserves. So who better to keep an eye out for a sister than another sister? In this issue, we turn our attention to Mother Earth and the various ways that women have become her caretaker. First, we meet a number of gals who are farming—really, truly farming, with large harvests of fruits, vegetables, eggs, and even honey—smack in the middle of a city. If you aren’t aware of the growing urban-homesteading movement, it’s time you get hip to both it and the underreported fact that the overwhelming force behind it—much like the DIY movement of the 2000s—is female. Here at BUST, I get a new urban-homesteading book on my desk just about every week (not to mention books on canning and how to raise chickens and bees), and they are almost all penned by women. The impulse behind this dirty work is, of course, a desire to live more sustainably and leave a smaller carbon footprint. I hope you appreciate it, Mama E. The earth isn’t made of just earth, however; a full 70 percent is covered in water. But there, too, we women have got Mother Nature’s back. The first all-female deck crew of the Greenpeace ship The Arctic Sunrise sail the high seas and risk their lives to halt illegal fishing practices and ocean dumping. But, as our reporter discovers, it isn’t all danger for these ladies; there’s also time for disco. And way on the other side of Mother Earth’s rotund badonkadonk, the women of Korea’s Jeju Island spend so much of their time in the water—diving into its depths in search of edible sea creatures—that they’ve become known as the world’s last real, live mermaids. Yet, although their livelihood is sustainable, their lifestyle isn’t, and they are a dying breed. But you don’t have to get your hands dirty or your feet wet to be a protector of the planet, and we bring you plenty of other ideas for greening your life, including how to make a reusable lunchbox and mix up some toothpaste without harsh chemicals, along with the cutest in cozy, eco-friendly fall fashions (talk about global warming!), and lots more. Finally, our cover girl, Mindy Kaling, and our featured interviewee, Jenny Slate, are two of our very favorite women on earth. We loved Mindy on The Office even before we realized she was one of the show’s writers and producers, and can barely contain our excitement now that she’s got her own book coming out. And we’ve been a fan of Jenny’s both during her (all too short) time on SNL and in her role on Bored to Death, but our adoration grew exponentially when we were introduced to her latest creation: Marcel the Shell with Shoes On. She’s got a book coming out, too. And guess who else has a book coming out? We do! That’s right, The BUST DIY Guide to Life is available now wherever fine (and even not-so-fine) books are sold. We collected 250 of our favorite how-to stories from the past 15 years of BUST—from cooking and crafting to fashion and finance, and everything in between—and crammed them all into one gorgeous volume of delicious DIY-ness. We’ll be heading out on book tour soon, so check our schedule (, and if we’re landing in your town, please come on out and say hey! Luv,


OCT/NOV 2011 – VOLUME 71


EDITOR-IN-CHIEF Debbie Stoller CREATIVE DIRECTOR Laurie Henzel MANAGING EDITOR Emily Rems SENIOR EDITOR Lisa Butterworth SENIOR DESIGNER Erin Wengrovius FREELANCE DESIGNERS Lan Truong, Ledi Lalaj CUSTOMER SERVICE + CRAFTY LADY Callie Watts BOOKS EDITOR Priya Jain ASSOCIATE MUSIC EDITOR Jen Hazen PUBLISHERS Laurie Henzel & Debbie Stoller DIRECTOR OF ADVERTISING + MARKETING Emily Andrews, 212.675.1707 x112, SALES MANAGER: BUSTSHOP + MARKETPLACE Stephanie DiPisa, 917.442.8465, EVENT + PROMOTIONS COORDINATOR Nikki Hung, 212.675.1707 x104, BOOKKEEPER Amy Moore, EDITORIAL INTERNS: Ariana Anderson, Candice Coote, Erina Davidson, Niesha Davis, Grace Evans, Casey Krosser, Eileen Milman, Kate Senecal, Annelise Stabenau, Kristina Uriegas-Reyes, Jessica Wolford MARKETING INTERN: Samantha Peltz FOR SUBSCRIPTIONS Please email or call 866.220.6010 FOR BOOBTIQUE ORDERS Please email WWW.BUST.COM ©2011 BUST, Inc. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the permission of the publisher. The articles and advertising appearing within this publication reflect the opinions and attitudes of their respective authors and not necessarily those of the publisher or editors. Canada Post: Publications Mail Agreement #40612608 Canada returns to be sent to Bleuchip International, P.O. Box 25542, London, ON N6C 6B2

DEAR BUST LADY FEEDBACK FROM LADY READERS ON OUR UR R AUG/SEPT ’11 ISSUE I have been a BUST fan for years. I have ve this amazing feeling of happiness when a new issue arrives in my mailbox. But as I flip through the pages of my favorite mag-” azine, I see phrases like “lady doctors” and “lady drummers” and “lady arm-wrestlers” (“Lean On Me”). Since BUST is a feminist-friendly magazine, I think your readers get that we’ll be reading stories about doctors, drummers, and arm-wrestlers of the female persuasion. Adding “lady” to the beginning of those titles sets feminism back several decades, as if a doctor, drummer, or arm-wrestler should be male unless we say otherwise. Tiffany Wright, via email I was shocked and disappointed to see Twilight: Breaking Dawn included in “The BUST Fall Preview.” The Twilight Saga features a meek, vapid female protagonist who is completely dependent on her boyfriend and generally void of any personality or depth. Bella’s character is defined completely by her relationship with Edward, who, in turn, is controlling and manipulative. The entire franchise capitalizes on the idealization of unhealthy relationships and denial of female pleasure or strength—hardly what I would consider “BUST-worthy.” Stacey Robinson via email In the “Editor’s Letter” you write, “...there are millions of us Vaginal Americans out here, and we watch TV, too,” with “Vaginal Americans” being a reference to women. Please check your transphobic language—not all women have vaginas. Jenn Halligan, West Chester, PA

DAMES NEED DIVERSITY I understand that having a Hollywood face on the cover helps the magazine and thus gives us continuous readership. But the past six issues (with the exception of Florence Welch, June/July ’11) have featured only women in Hollywood on the cover and their lives couldn’t be more different than most readers of BUST. These actresses have privileges and options that would be baffling to the average gal. Please don’t get me wrong, I like all these women and enjoy their films, but how about having musicians, artists, and authors on the cover? They are just as important and vital to our culture as women in Hollywood, if not more. Sarah Kanorwala, Houston, TX I took a break from our relationship a few years ago. Alas, I decided I missed you and renewed my subscription. I thumbed through the most recent issue (Aug/Sept ’11) and began to question giving you another chance. My old resentments are bubbling to the surface, specifically the lack of meaningful representation of babes of color, ladies who love ladies, and voluptuous vixens. That said, I’m willing to work on this if you are. I know that you can do better. Sterling Marie Harris, Denver, CO

Get it off your chest! Send feedback to: Letters, BUST Magazine, 18 West 27th Street, 9th Floor, New York, NY 10001. Email: Include your name, city, state, and email address. Letters may be edited for length and clarity.


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CONTRIBUTORS Photographer Bek Andersen, who shot “Hit the Deck,” grew up in Oklahoma City, OK, and lives in Brooklyn, NY. Her images have been published in Rolling Stone, Spin, Nylon, BUST, Time Out NY, Travel and Leisure, Dossier Journal, and TomTom Magazine among others. She is the visual voice behind Girl Crisis, an all-girl cover-songs project featuring members of several of Brooklyn’s favorite female acts including Chairlift, Au Revoir Simone, Class Actress, Telepathe, Acrylics, This Frontier Needs Heroes, and Cliffie Swan. She is currently working on several music videos and is in preproduction on a feature film she co-wrote with an all-female crew. Lara Backmender, who styled this issue’s fashion story “Supernatural Beauty,” is a Brooklyn-based stylist for editorial, advertising, and celebrity clientele. Her love of vintage, appreciation of high design, and trained eye for both established designers and raw, up-and-coming talent lend her work a youthful sophistication. As an alumnus of Parsons School of Design and a former designer herself, she’s well-versed in a wide range of markets while grounded in her own aesthetic. She counts Apple, Kate Spade, and Madewell among her clients, and her work has been featured in a number of magazines including Lula and Teen Vogue. Anna Bean, who interviewed Jenny Slate for this issue, loves all things feminist and filmic, so it’s fitting that she’s one of BUST’s regular movie review contributors. In 2009, she created the pro-choice romantic comedy Obvious Child (starring Slate) with her two best friends, and since then she’s been making videos about social justice issues for organizations like NARAL Pro-Choice New York and PolicyLink in addition to pursuing a master’s degree in social work. In her spare time, she runs around Brooklyn, plays in her band Balene, and makes cards for the people she loves. Alison Flowers, who wrote “The Last Mermaids,” is a Chicago-based writer and multimedia journalist. She hasn’t freedived with the haenyeo sea women yet, but spends her free time chatting with monks in Thailand (because they wear orange, her favorite color). She’s also cooking her way through the tome Passionate Vegetarian on her blog, Glutton for Reward. A recovering on-air personality, Flowers works as a research associate for the Medill Innocence Project at Northwestern University. Her stories have appeared on CNN, The Huffington Post, The Advocate, Forbes Travel Guide, and in Marie Claire, but you can track her down at

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keeping up with kreayshawn


HIP-HOP FANS CAN’T GET ENOUGH OF THIS OAKLAND RAPPER’S SWAGGER WHEN RAPPER NATASSIA Zolot, aka Kreayshawn (a play off creation), released a blinged-out video for her single “Gucci Gucci” on YouTube in May, she had no idea her life was about to change forever. But within a few months, the 22-year-old from Oakland, CA, had raked in millions of views, a lucrative record deal with Columbia to release a new album this fall, a VMA nomination for Best New Artist, and a studio session with Snoop Dogg. With the infectious hook “Gucci Gucci, Louis Louis, Fendi Fendi, Prada/Basic bitches wear that shit so I don’t even botha,” the song is an anthem for girls who like to rock their own unique style. And it was the perfect way for Kreayshawn to introduce herself to the world. “‘Gucci Gucci’ isn’t necessarily saying ‘Don’t wear Gucci,’ or ‘Don’t wear Louis,’” she explains. “I’m saying have your own swag with it, sprinkle your own shit into it. Don’t let labels define you.” Kreayshawn’s mom was a member of the early’90s surf punk band the Trashwomen, and the fledgling superstar performed her first song “Boys Are Toys” with them when she was five. A highly motivated high school drop out, she later finagled her way into a full scholarship to the Berkeley Digital Film Institute which helped launch her dual career as a rapper and video director. »


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broadcast them with her all the way to the top. But fame always comes with a few haters, and the White Girl Mob has garnered their share of backlash already— mainly from those who criticize them for “acting black.” “It’s crazy to even say someone’s acting a color,” says Kreayshawn. “Is Obama acting white ’cause he’s the president?” Though she’s aware of these hangups, Kreayshawn is ultimately devoted to getting as many women on stage with her as possible, bringing to life a popular line from her hit “Gucci Gucci”: “One big room, full of bad bitches.” To make this happen, her latest collaboration concept is called Girl Gang, and it’s a more inclusive take on the White Girl Mob. “Girls are asking me, ‘Can I be in the White Girl Mob? I’m Indian.’ And I’m like, ‘Fuck! Everyone can be in it!’” she explains. “I want to motivate girls to do whatever they want, whether it’s rapping, film, or making beats. I don’t see a lot of girl producers. I want to see girls do everything!” [CALLIE WATTS]


Enlighten up! Laura Dern is heating up HBO this fall with the hilarious new series Enlightened. A quirky mix of new age comedy and drama, the show stars Dern as an executive careening between a corporate meltdown, a spiritual awakening, and a total life overhaul. Superstar supporting actors Diane Ladd and Luke Wilson sweeten the deal, so don’t miss it when it debuts in October.


“In the ‘Run the World’ video, most of all I wanted to show that I’m proud to be a woman. I had read about powerful African men who have hyenas as pets, and I wanted to create a world where women run the world, so in the video I have these hyenas as pets. I’m wearing a Givenchy Couture gown and I’m holding these crazy hyenas. There’s dirt on the dress, but I’m still pure and regal. I wanted to push the theatrics to make a point: Women rule.” Beyoncé in W “Assignment: Think of a person who has never really given you the one thing you want from them. Now write a letter to you from that person. In this letter your dad, ex-girlfriend, boss, dog, or teacher finally says the thing you’ve been waiting for. Ask a friend to read it to you, as if they are that person. Then save it for later, read it again when you no longer care, and laugh.” Miranda July in Bullett “If I could give my teenaged self any advice, it would be ‘Calm down!’ In fact, if I could relive one day of my life, it would be the worst day of seventh grade, just so I could appreciate how much better life is now.” Zooey Deschanel in Self “If you’ve got it, flaunt it, if it works with your music. But I can’t imagine having guns and whipped cream comin’ out of my tits, d’youknowwhatImean? Even if I had Rihanna’s body, I’d still be making the music I make and that don’t go together. Can you imagine me rolling around in a bed naked singing ‘Someone Like You’? Nahahaha! If I had a tune like [Rihanna’s] ‘What’s My Name?’ I’d be getting my thunder-thighs out. But I ain’t!” Adele in Q

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But the way Kreayshawn tells it, the term “drop out” isn’t entirely accurate. “It’s funny, ’cause I didn’t exactly drop out,” she says. “The school moved when I wasn’t going for two weeks. This was before you could fucking go on the Internet and find information, so I basically lost my school. I didn’t drop out, school dropped me.” Kreayshawn is still actively directing, but for now, it’s her music that’s creating the most buzz. On her first mixtape, Kittys X Choppas, released in 2010, she flows about guns, cats, and weed, all over her signature based-out beats. “I have two fuckin’ cats, Kitty and Choppa, and they are my life,” she says, explaining the title. “I have dreams about them when they’re not around.” Kreayshawn’s obsession with her kittens and her devotion to her homegirls makes her seem like the perfect bestie. She calls her all-girl crew of collaborators—fellow MC V-Nasty and DJ/stylist Lil Debbie—her “White Girl Mob,” and she’s determined to bring


my big fat movie wedding HOW ONSCREEN BRIDES GET JILTED BY HOLLYWOOD WHILE BRIDESMAIDS MAY or may not be the Funny Lady Movie That Saves Us All From Comedy Sexism, one thing I can say for sure is that it’s the first wedding comedy in a long time that manages to be accurate in the wedding department. It’s amazing that a movie called Bridesmaids

Wedding Crashers and more. As comedies go, they range from decent to lousy to Kate Hudson Bridezilla Clusterfuck. But more than that, they all seem like dispatches from some depressing retrograde planet where all women wear dressy little pastel suits and lose their shit over centerpieces.

My own impending marriage this fall is making me wish for more relatable wedding movies than the ones Hollywood has tossed in our direction recently like smug bouquets. could actually focus on the deeply weird obligatory bonding that comes with wedding parties, and not at all on how ugly the dresses are. Because, ha ha! You know how it is with bridesmaids’ dresses, right?!!! I guess my own impending marriage this fall is making me wish for more relatable wedding movies than the ones Hollywood has tossed in our direction recently like smug bouquets: Something Borrowed and 27 Dresses and The Wedding Date and Bride Wars and Made of Honor and

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Are these movies supposed to be my bridal fantasies? I hope not, because here is what my dream wedding would be like if I lived in a world of wedding comedies: First, I would be really rich. For a movie bride, having loads of cash is mighty convenient, since more money means more fabulously over-the-top displays of wedding-industry excess. (Get a load of that ice sculpture! Can you believe that Prosecco fountain? Bitch crazy!) But chances are I’d be marrying into wealth, or else I’d have a

load of Daddy’s money to spend conspicuously on my big day. Oh, I suppose I could have an important, high-powered job, but then I’d be a hissyfit-prone control freak perfectionist, too, and why can’t I just lighten up? More likely, I’d have some exceedingly adorable job (e.g., department store window designer, cookie boutique proprietor, toy dog groomer) where I could show off my engagement ring to squealing co-workers, but somehow you’d never really hear about me actually paying for the wedding myself. Which is just as well, because how the hell could someone afford a Vera Wang gown on a toy dog groomer’s salary? Speaking of my dress (which would have to be white, because what am I, a communist?), I would never have to shop for it at the sort of fluorescent-lit bridal chain store where most women buy their wedding dresses, but instead in a gleaming ivory parlor that looks like Joan Crawford’s dressing room. And instead of clutching the unzipped bodice of a three-sizes-too-small strapless gown to “try it on,” I’d get to glide out in front of the mirror in a perfectly fitting sample size like a Disney princess. Then again, I’d better enjoy the moment while I could, because while the wedding’s all about me, the movie’s probably all about my best friend, or my sister, or my worst enemy, or my ex, or my ex’s new girlfriend, or my fiancé’s college buddies. That’s right—aside from a few exceptions like My Big Fat Greek Wedding, the bride is rarely the protagonist in the movie about her nuptials. Occasionally I’ll get to be the love interest—in which case I’m also an idiot for deciding to marry Movie Groom instead of the sweet guy in the back of the church. Otherwise, though, I’ll just stand around being envied or resented or feared or despised or pitied, depending on the plot and the main character’s hangups. Everyone loves a wedding. But Hollywood loves to hate a wedding, too. I can’t help but be nostalgic for flicks like Steel Magnolias and Muriel’s Wedding, which gave us interesting and real characters under all the damn crinolines. Wedding movies these days, though, seem to turn every woman who dons the white dress into a great big, expensive blank. It’s enough to make a girl want to elope.





FOR CENTURIES BEFORE the birth of the garter belt in the late 19th century, Western women held up their stockings with round garters worn just above or below the knee. The earliest versions were made of fabric or leather and 19th- and 20th-century garters involved elastic. Despite their utilitarian roots (a stocking was sure to answer the call of gravity unless there was something holding it up), garters—hidden from view, caressing the curve of a woman’s leg—have always been imbued with erotic power. The tradition of the bride’s garter, for example, goes back to 17th- and 18th-century Europe. According to British folklorist George Monger, bridal garters “were prized as love tokens with magical properties,” specifically that the gift of a garter worn by a bride ensured the recipient would soon be engaged. Male wedding guests competed for a bride’s garter (which they in turn would bestow on the woman of their choice) in various ways. In some English country traditions it was awarded to the winner of a footrace in the churchyard; according to others, the prize went to the winner of a horse race that ended outside the bride’s house. »


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broadcast Times columnist in 1893.) Garter tossing was revived at the turn of the 20th century, when a well-publicized series of weddings took place in the German royal family. As part of the post-ceremony festivities, bits of blue ribbon (blue being the color associated with the Virgin Mary) representing the bride’s garter were distributed to the wedding guests. This was a genteel variation of an earlier custom, wherein the bride was chased down and her garters removed and cut into pieces for souvenirs. Princess Dagmar of Denmark had nothing to fear from the guests at her wedding to Prince Adalbert of Prussia in 1907. Her garter would remain in one piece and discreetly hidden from view on her leg. Even so, The New York Times questioned whether the planned distribution of ribbons symbolizing her garter could be considered “decent.” Dagmar’s father certainly didn’t think so. He almost caused an international incident

when he declared the ribbon giveaway “barbarously indelicate.” High school girls in the early 1920s shocked their elders when they adopted a flapper fad for decorative garters, now visible to the world under their fashionable short skirts. One California regional board of education adopted a dress code in 1921 that decreed there were to be “No fancy garters conspicuously worn” at Long Beach High School. Four years later, members of the junior class at Salem High School in Salem, MA, were sent home from a dance for wearing bells on theirs. The decorative garter trend faded by the 1930s, and by the mid-20th century, the garter toss had become just another quaint tradition adhered to at some weddings. Yet even today it retains a racy edge, as some grooms dive under the wedding dress and emerge with the garter clenched in their teeth. Princess Dagmar clearly got off easy.

1. ___ Harper Lee was born the youngest of four children in Monroeville, AL, on April 28, 1926. a. Nelle b. Belle c. Estelle d. Adele

6. A famously private person, Harper gave her last in-depth interview in what year? a. 1964 b. 1974 c. 1984 d. 1994

2. On this holiday in 1956, Harper’s N.Y.C. pals Joy and Michael Brown gave her enough money to take a year off from her job as an airline reservation clerk to write, and she wrote Mockingbird. a. New Year’s Eve b. Thanksgiving c. Christmas d. Fourth of July

7. Director Mary McDonagh Murphy’s 2010 documentary Hey, Boo: Harper Lee and To Kill a Mockingbird features what celeb singing the book’s praises? a. Oprah Winfrey b. Tom Brokaw c. Rosanne Cash d. All of the above

3. What prestigious prize did Harper win for Mockingbird after it was published in 1960? a. National Book Award b. Pulitzer Prize c. Nobel Prize d. Mark Twain Prize

POP QUIZ CELEBRATING THE LEGACY OF HARPER LEE [BY EMILY REMS] WITH HER BRAVE 1960 debut novel To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee shed a damning light on the racism she observed growing up in the American South, and created an enduring classic that still sells nearly a million copies a year. Think you know how Harper found the write stuff? Then take the quiz!

4. After completing Mockingbird, Harper hit the road with her childhood friend Truman Capote to help him research what book? a. Breakfast at Tiffany’s b. Other Voices, Other Rooms c. In Cold Blood d. Miriam 5. Who played Harper in the 2005 film Capote? a. Nicole Kidman b. Sandra Bullock c. Judy Davis d. Catherine Keener

8. How many books has Harper published in her entire career? a. 1 b. 3 c. 5 d. 10 9. What U.S. president coaxed a rare live appearance from Harper when he presented her with the Presidential Medal of Freedom? a. Barack Obama b. George W. Bush c. Bill Clinton d. George H.W. Bush 10. Complete the following Harper quote: “I never expected any sort of success with Mockingbird. I was hoping ______ at the hands of the reviewers.” a. for some leniency b. for a miracle c. for a quick and merciful death d. for justice

Answer Key: 1.a, 2.c, 3.b, 4.c, 5.d, 6.a, 7.d, 8.a, 9.b, 10.c 16 / BUST // OCT/NOV


In another variation, the men lurked in the building’s doorway, barely waiting for the end of the ceremony to rush the bride and remove her garter. Lest she be hurt in the scramble, it was not unusual for the bride to toss her garter to the crazed mass before it descended upon her. Some 19th-century American superstitions made the lucky token a gift between girlfriends. The Chicago Tribune reported in 1896 that a New Jersey bride wore 20 garters at her wedding, to give one to each of her unmarried girlfriends. “Whoever receives the garter that a bride has worn upon her wedding day,” the paper advised, “shall herself become a bride before the year is out.” Another superstition held that if an unmarried girl wore a yellow garter crocheted by one of her engaged friends, she would be betrothed before the garter wore out. (If it did and she wasn’t, she “was doomed to a lonely lot” in life, explained a Los Angeles


hot dates


Through October 2 “THE GUERILLA GIRLS TALK BACK” This exhibition at the National Museum of Women in the Arts in Washington, D.C., brings together a collection of work by the Guerilla Girls, a team of anonymous feminist artists and activists famous for launching their critiques of sexism and racism in the media while donning menacing gorilla masks. Expect to see posters, newspapers, “erase discrimination” erasers, and other Girls artifacts from 1985 through today. Learn more about the exhibit at Through October 16

JENNIFER SIEBEL NEWSOM’S NEW DOC ABOUT SEXISM IN THE MEDIA IS A CALL TO ACTION IN HER MOVING new film Miss Representation—premiering on the OWN Documentary Club in October—director Jennifer Siebel Newsom explores sexism in the American media and its impact on both men and women at every stage of life. A San Francisco native, Newsom, 37, went from Stanford Business School to Hollywood to try her hand at acting and producing. Once she was inspired to make a film about media representations of women, however, she found it very difficult to get support from others in the industry. So she created her own production company, Girls Club Entertainment—a studio with a mission to make indie movies that empower women—and went to work on Miss Representation, her directorial debut. “People would say, ‘Oh, this subject matter’s been dealt with.’ Or, ‘Sorry, Jen, but there are international issues related to women’s rights that need my support and we’re doing fine here in the United States,’” says Newsom of her struggle to get her film made. “So I felt like there was this acceptance of the status quo in America. That shocked me. People needed to understand what a problem this is.” Starting with emotional testimonials from teenage girls about the body image and self-esteem problems they face today as a result of the media they consume, the film also covers the wild world of Photoshopping and the insidious undermining of female political candidates by loudmouth pundits, presenting sobering evidence that sexism is alive and well and actively holding women back in the United States today. Miss Representation also boasts an impressive cast of interviewees, including Jane Fonda, Gloria Steinem, Rachel Maddow, Condoleezza Rice, Geena Davis, Catherine Hardwicke, and Margaret Cho, who give their own perspectives on how sexism has affected their lives. Referring to the doc as a “call to action,” Newsom says its ultimate purpose is “to not just raise awareness but to inspire people to change the culture, to reduce this inequity, and to create equal opportunities for men and women.” To learn more about Miss Representation and get involved in Newsom’s campaign against discrimination, visit [JENNI MILLER]

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“MATERIAL GIRLS: CONTEMPORARY BLACK WOMEN ARTISTS” Slashed tires, plastic bags, and human hair are just some of the items eight contemporary African–American female artists have used to create artwork for this exhibit at Baltimore’s Reginald F. Lewis Museum of Maryland African American History and Culture. Dubbed the “Material Girls,” these artists utilize unexpected supplies to play on issues of culture, persona, memory, and more. Visit for all the deets on living in a material world. November 5 – 6 GLAMOURCON Billed as a celebration of pin-up art and photography, Glamourcon will take over Long Beach, CA, this November. Vintage-era and contemporary starlets will be on hand at this adults-only event, which will also feature vendors selling collectibles, photography workshops, fashion shows, and more. If we’ve aroused your interest, check out for more info. Through November 27 “HEART OF THE HOME: A CELEBRATION OF THE KITCHEN” Part of the Museum of New Mexico’s “Women of the West” series, “Heart of the Home” looks at the kitchen as the focal point for family gatherings. Relics from kitchens past include a tortilla griddle from 1875 and a curling iron from 1890 (before electric appliances came along, curling irons were heated on cast-iron stoves!). To find out what else is cookin’, visit [COMPILED BY LIBBY ZAY]


girls just wantt to be heard




“I REALLY LOVE love songs, romantic dinners, cookies, and baked goods. That kind of stuff really gets me going,” Blake Anderson tells me, with an incredibly sincere look on his face. “I’m a Pisces, the most romantic sign, for sure. I fall in love really easily.” It’s the last thing I expect to hear from the 27-year-old actor, since Workaholics, the Comedy Central series he created, writes, and stars in—along with his real-life best friends Adam DeVine and Anders Holm—is a total bro show. »


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broadcast The sitcom follows three slacker dudes who are roommates in a dingy house, work together at a telemarketing firm, and get into all kinds of absurdist shenanigans that typically involve drugs, beer, and lots of butthole jokes. It’s juvenile, crass, and borderline offensive. And it’s also hilarious. But the show has an underlying sweetness, and the guys’ authentic sense of friendship gives it surprising, subtle heart. It’s something Anderson assures me we’ll be seeing more of in season two, which just premiered on September 20. “We really test the limits of our friendship this season. But we stay together. That’s really the theme of the whole show,” Anderson says. “You may argue during the day, but at night it’s kisses and ‘Goodnight, dudes!’ You’re sharing that last slice of pizza, ’cause you care.” It’s a case of art imitating life, since Anderson has been friends and writing partners with DeVine and Holm for years, cranking out short videos and performing sketch comedy shows while living in L.A. and delivering pizza to pay the bills. In fact Anderson, who sports what may be television’s most recognizable coif, and DeVine used to live together in the Van Nuys, CA, house that now serves as the Workaholics set. “Until the stink drove us out,” Anderson says.

On the show, Anderson plays a guy with endearing naïvité and a sensitive, slightly geeky side—basically a made-for-TV version of himself. During our interview and photo shoot, he blesses me when I sneeze, continually compliments the photographer on her eye for set-ups, and even tells the groomer where she can find BUST on the newsstand. He also reveals his penchant for what most would consider less-than-cool interests. “I for sure have the biggest nerd background of the guys,” he says. “I rolled with a pretty tight crew back in high school, and we weren’t afraid to play Magic the Gathering and Dungeons & Dragons. I love puppet movies and fantasy films and comic books. I like dwarves and barbarians. It’s cool! Like, don’t judge me for that.” And while there’s no doubt Workaholics is aimed at dudes, when I ask about the show’s creative process, Anderson is quick to tell me that ladies are very much involved. “We have some really funny girls who are writers on our show. And it makes the guys compete to make them laugh. So that helps as well,” he says. “We always keep girls in mind. I mean, that’s usually what makes guys do everything they do.” [LISA BUTTERWORTH]

cat overload

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HELPING FERAL KITTIES—ONE TCHOTCHKE AT A TIME WITH OVERPOPULATION THE number-one killer of healthy cats in the U.S. and approximately 25,000 cats put to sleep each day in shelters, BUST’s “Nickel and Dined” columnist Isa Chandra Moskowitz has come up with a cute and creative way to make a difference in the lives of her favorite animals. Moskowitz, 38, is currently amassing a huge collection of thrift store cat tchotchkes, all of which she’s painting teal and selling online to raise money for feline Trap-Neuter-Return (TNR) programs across the country. By spaying or neutering as many feral felines as possible, TNR programs are the most effective way to cut down on the staggering number of unwanted kittens who end up in shelters and are often destroyed. An Omaha, NE–based vegan cookbook author with a tremendous following, Moskowitz’s love for cats prompted her to give up eating and using animal products. And through her Teal Cat Project, which kicked off in July, she’s harnessing her fan base to support TNR. “In addition to raising money,” says Moskowitz, “we’ll be raising awareness.” Moskowitz is initially requesting that supporters send her any cheap ceramic cat statues they can find at their local second-hand stores that are under a foot tall; then Moskowitz and a volunteer will spray-paint them teal to re-sell on her website, Designer Anna Dorfman assigns each teal cat a number and adorns it with a beautiful tag before it is sent off to a buyer. Each figurine costs $25, and 100 percent of the proceeds benefit an Omaha rescue group. Moskowitz jokes that when searching for figurines at thrift stores, she’ll usually find “30 clowns, 15 rabbits, 5 elephants, and maybe 1 cat,” but these numbers don’t reflect the actual numbers of cat lovers out there, and she’s counting on every one to pitch in. “We’re helping to put an end to feral cat overpopulation in our lifetime,” says Moskowitz. “I think it’s a real possibility.” To find out more, go to [JENNIFER CHEN]

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backseat drivers no more SAUDI WOMEN HIT THE GAS THE SAUDI WOMEN’S group Women2Drive (follow them on Twitter and Facebook) now gets to take a few victory laps. First, they succeeded in orchestrating a day-long “pro-test-drive” in June, during which at least 42 Saudi women took to the wheel despite their nation’s 35-year ban on women driving. Then the group pressured

rests of five female protest drivers, women there also cannot legally vote, hold jobs, study, or travel without their husband’s or (ugh) “male guardian’s” signed consent. So while cordial is fine for a cocktail party, where international women’s rights are concerned, it’s time for America to stop being polite and start getting real.

In June, at least 42 Saudi women took to the wheel despite their nation’s 35-year ban on women driving. Hillary Clinton into breaking her silence on the topic. Clinton first issued a cagey statement supporting the protest, calling the women brave but assuring the world that their efforts were not orchestrated by the West. Women2Drive then pressed further, so she issued a lengthier, more supportive statement with no hedging. The U.S. currently enjoys a cordial relationship with Saudi Arabia and the State Department wants to keep it that way. But aside from the driving issue, which resulted in the ar-

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WOMEN VS. WAL-MART Too Big to Succeed In a unanimous decision, the U.S. Supreme Court stopped the largest class-action suit ever, Wal-Mart vs. Dukes, at the starting gate. The court ruled that the 1.5 million women who worked for Wal-Mart from December 26, 1998 forward and encountered gender discrimination did not meet the requirements for a class, as defined by federal class-action guidelines. Despite evidence indicating disparate treatment

in pay and promotions between women and men across the board in the retail empire, Wal-Mart’s complete reliance on local managers to handle each store’s hiring was seen in the eyes of the court as reason enough not to hear all the female employees’ complaints together as a single group. Lawyers for the women say this leaves them the option to constrict the class and therefore meet the legal standard—for example, by classifying themselves by region or Wal-Mart store. In his written opinion, however, conservative justice Antonin Scalia suggested a much tighter criteria, writing that perhaps if they had suffered discrimination from the “same supervisor” they might form a class. The decision was a major blow to women’s and labor groups, because it creates a legal environment in which cases of widespread discrimination cannot be tried in one victorious, costeffective stroke. If Scalia had his way, the cases would be tried Wal-Mart supervisor by Wal-Mart supervisor, which is never going to happen because of the legal costs involved and the confusion caused by all Wal-Mart supervisors being named Dale.

SHUTTLECOCK TEASE Baggy Pants Bumming Out Badminton Board Looking to sex up the struggling international badminton scene, Badminton World Federation recently sought to stiffen their dress code by making skirts mandatory for female players. Complaints about the proposed code came from both female Muslim players who can’t show leg and from players who called sexism. The BWF then backed down and shelved the issue indefinitely. The new code would have allowed women who must cover up for religious reasons to stick with pants, provided they wear a skirt over them—which is presumably as uncomfortable when playing a competitive sport as it was when I had to do it once when I realized my dress was see-through. In a statement that makes a strong case for the hiring of PR agents, the U.S. deputy of BWF said, “We just want them to look feminine and have a nice presentation so women will be more popular. Interest is declining. Some women compete in oversize shorts and long pants and appear baggy, almost like men.”


Real Life a little dash will do you DIY BITTERS MAKE DELICIOUS COCKTAILS


BITTERS ARE POPPING up in fancy cocktail bars all over the country, and for good reason. Just a couple of drops of this highly concentrated herb-infused alcohol will jazz up any mixed drink by rounding out the flavors, kind of like seasoning for libations. Originally created back in 1824 as a cure for seasickness and nausea, bitters were added to booze years later by the British Royal Navy to aid digestion. These days they come in all kinds of flavors—like xocolatl mole and wild cherry— making them the perfect way to add depth to your drinks. With just a few ingredients and a bit of time, you can make your own unique bitters at home for a fraction of the price of the boutique brands. Plus, we’ve included some killer cocktail recipes so that once your bitters are ready you can easily put them to good use. »


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real life CHERRY VANILLA BITTERS UÊ ¼ cup dried cherries UÊ 3 vanilla beans UÊ 1 clove UÊ 2 star anise pods

SWEET AND SASSY This cocktail is a fresh—and slightly lighter—take on the classic old-fashioned. Using cherry vanilla bitters adds a hint of sweetness.

SPICY CINNAMON BITTERS UÊ 2 dried chili peppers UÊ 1 cinnamon stick UÊ 6 peppercorns UÊ 2 cups vodka

UÊ 2 cups whiskey

1. Combine ingredients in a Ball jar with an airtight lid. Store in a dark place at room temperature for two weeks, shaking the jar every other day. 2. Using a fine-mesh sieve fitted with cheesecloth, strain the cherries, vanilla beans, clove, and anise pods from the whiskey. Store in an airtight container in a dark spot; the bitters will last indefinitely.

UÊ 1 oz. fresh-squeezed orange juice UÊ 1½ oz. whiskey UÊ ½ oz. simple syrup* UÊ ¼ tsp. cherry vanilla bitters UÊ Orange peel, about 2 inches

Place two ice cubes in a rocks glass (short and wide). Add the orange juice, whiskey, simple syrup, and bitters. Gently stir for 10 seconds. Fold the orange peel lengthwise and squeeze to release the oils. Drop in glass and drink up! *To make simple syrup, combine 1 part sugar and 1 part water in a small saucepan. Warm over medium heat until the sugar dissolves.

SPICED CIDER Raise a glass to the start of fall with this tasty seasonal cocktail. The bright flavor of the apple cider shines with each sip, but you’ll notice a hint of smoky spiciness from the bitters.

1. Combine ingredients in a Ball jar with an airtight lid. Store in a dark place at room temperature for two weeks, shaking the jar every other day.

UÊ 2 oz. apple cider UÊ 1½ oz. dark rum UÊ ½ oz. lemon juice UÊ ½ oz. maple syrup UÊ ¼ tsp. spicy cinnamon bitters UÊ cinnamon sugar* (for the rim)

2. Using a fine-mesh sieve fitted with cheesecloth, strain the chilis, cinnamon, and peppercorns from the vodka. Store in an airtight container in a dark spot; the bitters will last indefinitely.

Place the cinnamon sugar on a plate. Rub the rim of a tall tumbler with a slice of lemon then dip it into the cinnamon sugar. Set aside. In a cocktail shaker filled with ice, add all the ingredients and shake vigorously for 10 seconds. Strain into the cinnamon-sugar rimmed glass and enjoy! [KELLY CARÁMBULA] *To make cinnamon sugar, combine ¼ tsp. cinnamon with ¼ cup raw sugar and stir.

Like our labels? Go to to print them out for your own bottles of bitters.


obaachan’s miso soup YOU PROBABLY KNOW miso soup as the thin but tasty side treat to your sushi meal at the local Japanese restaurant. But my grandma Fusako makes a mean, main dish–worthy one that she’s been eating every morning for the past 90 years (and counting!). Raising a family in WWII-era Japan was no easy task, but it made her resourceful and conscientious. Her recipe’s meant to be made with any vegetable you can get your hands on and is a great way to use seasonal produce and leftovers; you should be able to get all the

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ingredients at your local natural foods or Asian grocery store. This battle-tested soup provides much needed nourishment and comfort during the best and worst of times—it’s hearty, healthy, and downright oishii (tasty). In a bowl, soak 6 dried shiitake mushrooms in 2 cups of lukewarm water for 10 minutes. In a large pot, add 2 large potatoes, cubed, to 4 cups of water and bring to a low boil. Once cooked, turn down the heat to a gentle simmer and add 1 cup fish stock and 1 piece of kombu (a type of seaweed used for stock). Next, add 1 yellow onion, chopped; 1 carrot, sliced; 1 block of firm tofu, cubed; and a handful of dried wakame (smaller seaweed leaves). Reserve the mushroom water and slice the shiitake mushrooms. Add them, along with the reserved water, to the soup. Add 2 Tbsp. brown miso paste and 1 Tbsp. white miso paste and mash with a fork so the paste dissolves cleanly into the soup. Simmer gently until the carrots have cooked (be sure the pot doesn’t boil as that will kill the nutrients in the miso paste), then garnish with chopped green onions. Eat with chopsticks and a spoon or just slurp it from the bowl. Itadakimasu! [JENNI GWIAZDOWSKI]

Got an amazing family recipe? Send it, along with a photo of the recipe's originator, to

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real life


2 Tbsp. canola oil ¾ cup almond milk (any non-dairy milk will do) ½ cup water 2 tsp. apple cider vinegar 2 Tbsp. sugar 1 tsp. vanilla 1 cup all-purpose flour 2 tsp. baking powder ½ tsp. salt 1 tsp. each ground cinnamon and ground ginger ¼ tsp. ground nutmeg Pinch of ground cloves Cooking spray

batter up SWEET POTATO PANCAKES WITH WHISKEY-KISSED CANDIED PECANS MAKING THESE PANCAKES is the perfect way to spend a fall morning, filling your kitchen with the warm scent of spices. Topped with salted, candied pecans, each bite is like a forkful of sweet potato pie that is totally appropriate for breakfast. And they’re thrifty, too. Buy your sweet potatoes at your local farmers’ market (any variety will do), and grab your nuts and spices in bulk. To get a good deal on maple syrup, go for Grade B. It actually has a more pronounced flavor than Grade A, so a little goes a long way. Which means you can totally afford a pinch of whiskey from your flask for spiking the pecans.

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INGREDIENTS Makes 6 six-inch pancakes, .35 each

For the pecans: 1 cup pecans 2 tsp. canola oil 1 ⁄8 tsp. salt 2 Tbsp. maple syrup 2 Tbsp. whiskey For the pancakes: ¾ cup cooled, mashed sweet potato

First, prep your potato. (Tip: You only need 1 for this recipe but feel free to bake more and use them for other meals.) Just turn the oven up to 350 degrees, wash the sweet potato, place a large sheet pan on the bottom of the stove to catch any drippings, and place the potato on the middle rack. It’s that simple! No pricking with a fork, no wrapping in foil. An average sweet potato takes about 45 minutes to bake; it’s done when a knife can be inserted into the center with ease. While your potato cools, prepare the pecans. Have a sheet of parchment paper ready to go on the counter. Preheat a heavy-bottomed skillet over medium heat. Add the pecans and toss them frequently for 5 minutes, until they smell toasty and begin to turn a few shades darker. Add the oil and salt and stir for another minute. Add the maple syrup and stir constantly for about a minute. The maple syrup should get bubbly. Add the whiskey, and toss for 30 seconds more, then transfer nuts to the parchment paper. Let cool. To prepare the pancakes, whisk together sweet potato, oil, almond milk, water, vinegar, sugar, and vanilla in a large mixing bowl. Add the flour, baking powder, salt, and spices. Mix until there are very few clumps, but be careful not to overmix. Preheat a large, heavy-bottomed nonstick skillet (cast iron works best) over medium heat for at least 3 minutes. You’ll know it’s hot enough when a drop of water dances around the pan. Spritz with a light coat of cooking spray (or a very light coat of oil). Pour pancakes in ½-cup measurements and cook until the top looks somewhat dry (about 3 minutes). Flip and cook for another minute. To serve, stack pancakes on a plate and top with pecans, breaking apart any chunks. Top with pure maple syrup.







TIMES ARE TOUGH and one of the best ways to save some cash is by brown bagging it to work. But just because your mid-day meal is yesterday’s leftovers, that doesn’t mean it has to look like it belongs in the trash. It’s time to grow up and get a reusable lunch box. Not only are they good lookin’, they also cut back on waste, which is good for everyone. Make your own by upcycling an old purse into a chic, waterproof, non-toxic take on the classic box. Or turn the page and snatch up some adorbs alternatives to the sad sack. Pretty soon you’ll be the leader of the pack. »


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Start with a hard-case boxy purse (we got ours at a thrift store). Cut out any fabric lining that you can without destroying the structure of the box. If there are fabric panels on the sides between the base and the lid (to keep the lid from opening too far), remove them. If your purse is held together with a fabric hinge, leave that intact. As long as your purse opens to a 90-degree angle, it will work for this craft. If there are any pockets on the interior, remove those as well. Discard the lining. If your purse has a band of stiff material around the interior walls, remove it and discard. Once you have things as raw on the inside of your purse as possible, measure the inside bottom of the base. Cut a square of 1 ⁄8"-thick waterproof vinyl to these measurements, minus 1⁄16" all the way around. Adhere the vinyl to the inside of the box with a thin layer of non-toxic aquarium sealant (available at most hardware stores). Place something heavy inside the purse to weigh it down and let it dry completely. Repeat this vinyl-cutting-and-gluing process to line the inside lid of the purse. Next measure the perimeter of the purse’s interior and the height of the sides. Cut 4"-belting (a type of interfacing, available at most fabric stores) to these measurements, minus 1⁄16" on each of the shorter sides. (You should have one piece of belting that will wrap entirely around the purse’s interior walls.) Cut a piece of vinyl to the dimensions of the belting, adding ¾" to each of the shorter sides. Use aquarium sealant to glue the vinyl to the belting, folding it over the long edges by 3⁄8" on each side. Let dry completely, then glue onto the purse’s interior walls with aquarium sealant. Secure with binder clips until dry. Repeat this process to cover the interior walls of your purse’s lid. If your purse is held together with a fabric hinge, measure it, cut a piece of vinyl to those dimensions, and glue it over the inside of the hinge so that it matches the rest of your interior. Once dry, put a thin line of sealant along each of the inside seams. When that dries, load up your new superchic, spill-proof lunchbox and take a meal break! [CALLIE WATTS]

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4. 5.


1. HIT THE BOTTLE This stainless steel thermos not only replaces plastic, but also reuses it—the strap is made from 100 percent recycled water bottles. As an added bonus, the canteen separates in the middle for easy cleaning ($29.95, 2. MOD MEAL Made of aluminum and decked out in a retro print, this box is a serious throwback making it one killer whale lunch pail (£11.99, 3. WHOOOO’S BAG IS BOSS? It would be wise to carry your lunch in this insulated owl ($14, 4. AN APPLE A DAY KEEPS SPILLS AT BAY Worm your way out of soggy sandwiches with this silver-dollar-sized sauce pot. Fill it with your fave condiment then use the little wormhandled spreader to dress your sammie right before you eat it ($11.75 for two, 5. HUNGRY, HUNGRY CATERPILLAR This kit has everything you need: a recycled-cotton bag, cloth napkin, stainless steel bottle, sandwich wrap, and two steel food containers. Now you won’t have to bug out about throwing your lunch bag away ($35, [BY CALLIE WATTS]


real life

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real life

the kids are alright THE INS AND OUTS OF BECOMING A FOSTER PARENT AND WHY YOU MAY WANT TO BE ONE, TOO I WAS 35 when I realized that my plan of being married and having biological children just wasn’t in the cards for me. I looked into private domestic adoption, but discovered that it’s virtually impossible for a single person, and international adoption, quickly realizing that I didn’t have the funds for this very expensive process. I considered sperm donation, but decided against it. I thought I was all out of options, but then I found out that in most states, anyone who is emotionally and physi-

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cally healthy and financially able may be a foster parent, regardless of marital status, sexual orientation, religion, race, or age. That was six years ago, and today, I’m the adoptive mother of the three children I fostered: two girls, ages 9 and 12, and a 6-year-old boy. Though foster parenting may not be easy, it’s monumentally rewarding, and you can do it, too. The process of becoming a foster parent—caring for someone else’s child until that person is deemed able to do

so, or until his or her parental rights are terminated and the child becomes available for adoption—is fairly straightforward. Google “foster care” and the state in which you live to find out what agency governs foster care (generally the department of human or social services) and sign up. The next step is paperwork, and lots of it. You’ll fill out forms about what kind of child you’ll accept (disabilities, types of abuse, types of behavior, age, gender, etc.), your parenting style, your relationships with your family, your finances, and even a letter from your therapist if you’ve had counseling. An in-person interview is required, as is training, which varies state to state from 6 hours to 40. Up next is a home inspection where someone from the state will make sure your living environment is clean, up to typical safety standards (emergency evacuation is possible and first-aid supplies are on hand), and that each child will have his or her own bed. Complete those steps and voilà, you’re a foster parent; the whole process took me about six months, from initial paperwork to actual parenting. And though fostering is by no means a moneymaker, you are reimbursed a certain amount per month. That rate varies substantially by state (from about $300 to $900), and also depends on the age of the child. To find out what your state pays in relation to what raising a child actually costs, go to When it comes to the type of child you’ll get, you can request specifics regarding gender, age, and behaviors, but most of the time foster care workers don’t have intimate knowledge of a child’s history, so it’s a bit of a crapshoot. You can expect to be assigned a kid that is toddler age or older—most children are taken into foster care custody because a teacher or day-care worker suspects negligence. You can also assume that you’ll be asked to take more than one child, since the system attempts to keep siblings together. I requested two females, which I was assigned, but those girls had a little brother who eventually came to me as



well. You generally do not meet the children before they are placed with you, and you can’t “shop around” for kids. However, if you’re uncomfortable with a placement, you can typically request another. While nothing short of soul-touching, foster parenting does come with a unique set of challenges. The majority of kids in the foster care system have learned to survive any way they can, and they’re experts at finding any hot buttons you have. Once the honeymoon is over (about three months), they’ll try everything they can to get you to kick them out. I highly recommend meeting with a therapist every few months while you foster. The kids will also likely have attachment issues; though it’s been more than three years since I adopted my foster children, they’re still dealing with their own uncertainties. But perhaps the most difficult aspect is being prepared to give your foster kids back. Sixty-five percent are returned to their biological parents; a child might be with you for a few days or a few years, and you really don’t know which it’s going to be until it happens. So, while they will likely leave you, you will surely leave them much better than you found them. The vision I had for myself was one of a husband, the proverbial picket fence, and kids of my own. But my reality has been so much more real and rich, I can’t imagine I ever thought about living my life differently. When I drove my kids eight straight hours from Oklahoma City, OK, to the Texas coast two summers ago, and my then 10-year-old said, as we arrived on the beach, “Shelley, I thought the ocean was pretend,” every frustrating moment washed away. Something as small as a family birthday party with a simple cake can bring unbelievable joy to my kids. And home-cooked meals around the dinner table, as corny as they might seem, bring my kids stability to which they still look forward. Nothing compares to having watched my children wake from trauma, grow, live, and become fearless and joyful in the face of what their young lives have handed them, especially knowing that I’ve been a small part of their evolution. [SHELLEY CADAMY MUNOZ]


TOOTHPASTE IS ONE of those things that just doesn’t seem DIY-able, but guess what? It totally is! This homemade version is cheaper than buying tube after tube of Colgate or Crest, and it’s also free of the gnarly unnecessary chemicals and artificial sweeteners that most store-bought brands contain. All you need is calcium carbonate, a natural chemical compound that scrubs bacteria away; baking soda, for whitening; vegetable glycerine to make it pasty; and essential oil and a natural sweetener to make it palatable. You can even customize the flavor to make your mouth extra happy. INGREDIENTS · 4 Tbsp. calcium carbonate (available at hardware stores or · 2 Tbsp. baking soda · Pinch (or more) of stevia powder (for sweetness, adjust to taste) · 5 – 6 drops peppermint oil (spearmint, rose, vanilla, clove, and cinnamon oil are also good options) · Vegetable glycerine (available at Whole Foods or

Combine the dry ingredients and essential oil(s) in a small airtight jar. Add a splash of vegetable glycerine and mix. Continue adding vegetable glycerine and mixing until you reach your desired consistency—it can be as gooey or pasty as you want. To use, dab a little (or a lot) on your toothbrush and brush as normal. Your toothpaste will separate between uses, so use your toothbrush to stir it up (if you have housemates, it’s best for each person to have their own cootie-free container); this mixture makes about three week’s worth of toothpaste and will keep for a month. [LISA BUTTERWORTH AND HEATHER LOOP]

PUNK PICKLES Jen Smith, the musician (Bratmobile, the Quails) and ’zine maker who was a huge part of riot grrrl—even naming the movement when she called for a “girl riot”—has a new DIY venture. The Angeleno has taken to making pickles (okra, asparagus) and jams (lavenderplum, ginger-peach) under her Full Moon Pickles and Catering moniker. L.A. folks can get her goods at local stores like Ooga Booga, and anyone can follow her adventures in canning at [ALISON BAITZ]

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grade graduation last spring: the constant, taken-for-granted contact with my fellow parents. Even those whose names I never got around to knowing, and the ones who treated every PTA meeting as an occasion for public fretting on the topic of what was being done to stimulate pupils who per-

Which leads me to the thing I’ll miss most of all: the constant, taken-for-granted contact with my fellow parents. formed way beyond grade expectations. Most of the groups to which I’ve belonged as an adult have been self-selecting, the product of shared enthusiasms or a similar worldview. The scene at PS 261 was a little closer to church, or at least the post-service coffee hours of my Christian childhood. It was totally OK if we had nothing in common besides our mutual bedrock. In fact, it was kind of refreshing. Standing around, discussing the weekend weather forecast with a single mom from the projects

expanded to take in many of their mothers and fathers. Seeing as how I was already set up in that department, I wasn’t rabid to forge bonds with the parents of his kindergarten classmates, but it happened anyway. Just as six years later, our drifting apart is happening anyway, despite some well-intentioned noise to the contrary. Were we parents to have a yearbook, and I’m not lobbying that we should, I might write Thanks for the memories. No doubt, they’ll grow vague with time, but then surely that’s the nature of the beast.


AS MY YOUNGEST child coasted toward graduation from elementary school, I braced myself to start missing stuff. Parenting styles may vary, but there are certain universals to being the mother of a young child—the overtly observed passage of the seasons, for one. For over a decade, every autumn has started with new lunch boxes, kicked into high gear with pumpkin-centric bulletin board displays, and culminated in the day before Thanksgiving break, when the preschoolers are turned loose wearing construction paper turkeys on their heads. If you’ll forgive a little musical interlude, it’s the circle of liiife, and living across the street from the school as I do, I felt very much a part of it. I don’t think anyone would call the cops should I peer through the chain link on November 23, but why bother? Bearing witness to the seasonal millinery of the Pre-K does not make one an active part of that community. Which leads me to the thing I’ll miss most of all, one that didn’t sink in until we were all blubbering our way through fifth

and another who abides by the laws of the Koran made me feel grown up in a singular way. As grown up as grownups used to seem back when I was a kid. Few of these relationships have shaped up into what I’d call deep, but so what? When one of our number passed away last year, I was struck by how many of these comparatively passing acquaintances were moved to attend his funeral—on a gorgeous weekend afternoon, no less. There’s more to life than socializing outside of school apparently. Put another way, as much as I adore my single, childless friends, most of whom I’ve known since earliest adulthood, they’re not the ones I imagine sheltering my kids in the immediate aftermath of an imaginary attack on New York City. A problematic scenario to carry over into middle school, once the children have started taking the subway by themselves. Naturally, there comes a point when we parents have to take that deep breath and accept that we’ve been removed from a major percentage of the equation. I’m at peace with the inevitability of greater independence for both me and the kids. The bummer is losing the company of this group I’ve come to value so. Until he started school, my son Milo didn’t have any friends of his own making. His playmate pool consisted of the younger siblings of his older sister Inky’s friends. Meanwhile, my playmate pool had

Looks Fas hion Nat ion

La Carmina TOKYO, JAPAN TV HOST AND FASHION BLOGGER Tell us about this outfit. My dress is by Algonquins; I found it at Closet Child, my favorite store in Tokyo, for about $25, used. The spider necklace and bracelet are by Strange Freak, a Japanese alt-jewelry company. And the headband and black-strand necklace, which I’m wearing as a shoulder accessory, are by Soho Hearts. The sunglasses were a gift from Lumete, an N.Y.C. eyewear designer. My strappy shoes are by goth Lolita footwear designer Yosuke; they were about $95. How would you describe your look? Morticia Addams meets Hello Kitty. I grew up in Vancouver, Canada, and when I visited Tokyo in my early teens, my mind was blown open by the stunning, gothic Lolita, harajuku punk, and visual kei [a flamboyant look made popular by Japanese glam rockers] styles I saw. I’ve been dabbling in gothic and other subculture aesthetics since then. Why do you think Tokyo breeds such interesting fashion subcultures? The Japanese love role-playing. It’s fascinating how Tokyo street style is often inspired by Western pop culture and given a uniquely Japanese twist. For example, fairy kei style is all about 1980s pastel kitsch—think My Little Pony and Jem and the Holograms, tutu skirts and scrunchies. What inspires your style? I’m mesmerized by the Rococo glam of visual kei bands and I love Japanese kawaii [cute] mascots, such as Chococat and Rilakkuma. Above all, I’m inspired and awed by my ultra-creative circle of friends, especially those in Tokyo’s underground scene. Nothing compares to the experimental, DIY fashion in Japan’s goth/ cyber/gay/alternative club scene. It’s out of this world. [TRICIA ROYAL]


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Sewmaster Maria Silver


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AS THE DRUMMER for Nashville rock trio the Ettes, Maria Silver, aka Poni, hits the stage with a look as fierce as her backbeat. Lucky for us, she’s taken her eye for style to the drawing board, and is launching her first clothing collection in October, hot on the heels of the Ettes’ new album, Wicked Will. “I picked a weird time to start a clothing company,” the 32-year-old admits, “but I love being busy.” Ironically named Black, Silver’s line is full of rich colors and ranges from long, flowy, gypsy-style dresses in bright fuchsias and browns to chic outerwear looks, including a high-collared, leopard-print jacket and an easy-to-wear cape for fall. The collection is elegant with an edge, and because Silver is frequently on tour, the pieces are made from travel-friendly fabrics such as polychiffon and leather, giving them a ’70s rock ’n’ roll vibe. “I think my aesthetic has an older feel to it,” Silver says, noting that vintage clothing from the late ’60s and ’70s is a large part of her inspiration. Another influence is her love of street style and the way people mix things up in everyday life. “I design complete outfits,” she says. “But I don’t encourage girls to wear them all together. I really want them to take the pieces and make them their own.” [KRISTINA URIEGAS-REYES]



WALKING DEAD A killer shoe for a Halloween monster mash! Even though these heels look deadly, no animals were harmed to make them—this pair of zombie pumps is completely vegan ($45,

HERBAL REMEDY MOSS-EL TOV No matter where you are, this tiny handmade terrarium will provide a little slice of nature to cheer you up. Filled with charcoal, soil, and reindeer moss, it’s a necklace that will make all your friends green with envy ($25,

Save some space on your deck with this terracotta planter—remove the top to reveal a grill! Now you can keep your herbs right where you need ’em. It also comes with stainless steel tongs that you store in the base when not in use ($124,

FANNY FEEL GOOD Ten percent of the proceeds from these sustainably made, organic cotton undies go to a different non-profit, depending on the design. The ones pictured support Beyond Coal, an org that combats coal-fueled power plants, and Creative Growth, an art center for adults with disabilities ($22 for boy shorts, $20 for bikini;

OPEN WIDE The mouth of this handmade pillow (illustrated by Rob Corradetti of Brooklyn-based band Mixel Pixel) houses a small pocket for hiding your stash, so you can rest easy knowing that it won’t get lost ($32,

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slow it down


hot lips Designer and illustrator Alyson Fox can now add photographer to her résumé, as proven by her lovely book of portraits, A Shade of Red (Chronicle Books, $19.95), which comes out in October. In an exploration of beauty and identity, Fox photographed 100 women of all ages and ethnicities, each wearing the same shade of red lipstick. The result is quite a looker.

test kitchen THEIR PRODUCTS, OUR INTERNS GRACE: This oil gave my naturally wavy hair a more defined curl and a cool, piece-y texture. It worked great as a moisturizer for my dry ends, too. As a body oil, it smelled too much like marzipan for my taste.

This soap made me feel like I was bathing in satin. It smelled pleasant, and the colored swirls in the bar were lovely. It’s a supergentle facial cleanser, and it left my face looking brighter and clearer of blemishes.

This lavender-lime scented soap smelled so good that when I first got it, I kept sniffing it through the packaging. It left my skin smooth and soft, though I liked it better as a body soap—it made my face feel shiny and tight.

I loved the luxurious lather of this organic bar soap. The invigorating lavender-lime suds left my skin velvety soft without any residue. As a facial cleanser though, it didn’t live up to my expectations and left my face feeling tight.

These wipes were great for removing makeup, and I really enjoyed using them to freshen up in the middle of a hot day. Using individual towelettes seemed wasteful to me, but they would be handy for camping or traveling.

I’m lazy, and sometimes I just want to bypass my nightly routine and go to bed. But I can’t really do that when I’ve been sweating all night to bad Prince covers. So these wipes were a lifesaver—a quick and convenient way to clean my face.

My mineral powder foundation doesn’t come off easily with regular cleanser, but these wipes left my face completely clean. Using them was refreshing, but the formula irritated the sensitive skin around my eyes.

Burt’s Bees Facial Cleansing Towelettes, $5.99,

Plum Kernel Nectar Natural Hair and Body Oil, $12,

EILEEN: I loved this stuff! I used it as a tanning oil, a moisturizer, and I also put some on the tips of my hair after I got out of the shower. It left my skin shiny and soft, though using too much will leave you greasy. It had a great smell, too!

Metropolis Soap Co. Dark Lavender and Lime Soap, $6.99,

ARIANA : This body oil seemed very restorative and my skin felt delightfully smooth and healthy after using it. I was superhesitant to try it on my grease-prone hair, but using a small amount was not as disastrous as I anticipated.

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MUCH LIKE PROPONENTS of the slow food movement reject cheap convenience food in favor of local, eco-friendly eats, green-minded style mavens are adopting a similar mentality. Opting out of “disposable” fashion—cheap, poorly made goods manufactured with little regard for the environment or workers— they’re committed to making sustainable sartorial choices. “Fast clothing is the reality of most peoples’ wardrobes,” says Jessica Robertson, a founding member of slow design site “It is the easiest clothing to access due to availability and price.” But it leaves a footprint: 25 percent of pesticides in the U.S. are used on cotton crops destined for fabric creation, and every step in the clothing manufacturing process produces harmful emissions, from harvesting and laundering to construction and transportation. As a result of our fast-fashion mentality, Americans throw out more than 68 pounds of clothing and textiles per person, per year. So what’s an eco-conscious gal to do? “Less is definitely more,” says Jasmin Malik Chua, managing editor of online eco-fashion site and a slow clothing enthusiast. “Instead of buying five sub-par blouses every season, for instance, save up and splurge on one spectacular top.” Ladies with shallower pockets can go the DIY route by hosting clothing swaps, making their own threads, learning to mend, buying vintage, and altering old clothing to make new pieces. “I like knowing the story behind the garment, from where the fiber was sourced to the hands that worked on bringing it to fruition,” Chua says. It creates a connection with what you wear in a way that the anonymity and haphazardness of fast fashion never can.” [GRACE EVANS]


2 veggie-based ink on recycled paper

4 handmade and ethically produced

1 non-toxic 3 vegan and cruelty-free

7 recycled cotton canvas


e th

9 sustainable

renewable wood

S. U.


ha n dm ad e


6 certified organic

recycled leather

1 1 upcycled material

1 0 9 5% post-consumer recycled material

eco-friendly budget buys

1 2 lead-free ink on 100% certified-organic canvas


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The center of Salem: Old Town Hall

Lit lovers will dig The House of Seven Gables

Get raw at Finz

Salem’s retro residents

Peep the art on Graffiti Street


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THANKS TO A few naughty girls in 1692, Salem, MA, will forever be associated with witches. If only those Puritans could see it now. These days, Salem is the Halloween capitol of the world, a place where vampires, zombies, and even Hester Prynne haunt the streets, partying for All Hallows’ Eve. You can pose with a statue of TV’s most famous witch, shop for spell ingredients, and even get custom-made fangs. With all that ghoulishness, it might be easy to dismiss Salem as way too touristy, but underneath the near-constant aura of Halloween, Salem is an energetic, come-as-you-are college town that promises a wicked good time. And if you know where to look, you’ll learn that those gals in 1692 didn’t go down without a fight. Start by hanging out with some modern-day witches at a magick shop like Hex: Old World Witchery (246 Essex St.), where you can stock up on everything from hoodoo powder to wolf hair. Across town, Artemisia Botanicals (102 Wharf St.) sells hundreds of fairly traded, organic herbs and pre-mixed teas for cooking, spell work, and holistic medicine (grab some of the Hangover Helper tea for tomorrow morning). And don’t miss The Cat, the Crow, and the Crown (63 Wharf St.), owned by the legendary Laurie Cabot, the “Official Witch of Salem.” If you need any assurance that this town’s always been a little on the freaky side, check out the East In-

dia Marine Hall at the Peabody Essex Museum (161 Essex St.), where the walls are lined with buxom ship figureheads and cabinets of curiosities that sailors brought home from around the world, including an abnormally long-necked penguin that was inaccurately stuffed by a taxidermist who’d never seen one before. Grab lunch at 43 Church (43 Church St.), and don’t be surprised if you smell apples there, even if there aren’t any on the menu: Salem legend says that the building sits on the site of an apple orchard owned by Bridget Bishop, the city’s first witchcraft hanging victim. After you’ve eaten with the ghost of the accused, check out Cry Innocent, which re-creates Bishop’s pre-trial hearing. The show starts outside of the Old Town Hall (32 Derby Sq.) on Essex Street, where actors dressed as Puritans ask passersby whether they’ve seen Bridget. Once she’s spotted in the crowd, the accused witch is grabbed and dragged away, literally kicking and screaming. Follow them inside the venue to help decide her fate. Shop away any lingering thoughts of consorting with Satan at Modern Millie (3 Central St.), where you’ll find meticulously selected vintage clothing and accessories, modern-day consignments, and a crazywell-dressed staff. At Fool’s Mansion (127 Essex St.), the industrial music cranks while you check out the shop’s gothic, Victorian, and fetish-inspired clothing


Flex your Hex at Lori Bruno’s magick shop

Sip some suds at Gulu-Gulu Café

Ship ahoy on Salem’s coast

Witchy woman Laurie Cabot

Bronze beauty Samantha Stevens

Scout the racks at Modern Millie

and accessories, plus works from local artists. For even more local art, stroll down Artists’ Row, a brick-lined footpath between Front Street and New Derby Street, where artists and craftspeople set up shop in open stalls, selling their wares and leading workshops and demonstrations. Head to dinner at Finz (76 Wharf St.), a seafood restaurant with a fabulous raw bar and a great spot on Pickering Wharf. Not feelin’ fish? Try 62 Restaurant & Wine Bar (62 Wharf St.) which puts a modern spin on Italian food with small plates, seasonal ingredients, and fresh pasta that’s made on site. After dinner, pull up a seat outside at The Lobster Shanty (25 Front St.) to listen to some live music and sip a Lobstertini, a briny vodka concoction spiked with “lobster essence” and garnished with a claw. Or, grab a barstool at Dodge Street Bar & Grill (7 Dodge St.) to chat up some locals and hear even more live music at Salem’s best dive. If you’re in the mood for some late-night partying, hit up Darq, which turns Bangkok Paradise (90 Washington St.) into a goth/industrial nightclub every other Saturday. After a night of witchy dreams, re-charge with breakfast at A&J King Artisan Bakers (48

Central St.), where everything, down to the mayo for their delicious sammies and caramel syrup for their espresso drinks, is made from scratch with locally sourced ingredients. Get a little crafty post-meal at Seed Stitch Fine Yarn (21 Front St.), a sunny shop with fibers of every color from around the world and tables and chairs for impromptu knitting, then head across the street to Boston Bead Company (10 Front St.) for a bit of jewelry-making heaven. Find naughty postcards and quirky home décor at The Beehive (38 Front St.) and Roost (40 Front St.), adjacent sister stores with penchants for the handmade and offbeat. Speaking of handmade, the customized fragrances at Aroma Sanctum Perfumes (5 Central St.) provide the ultimate one-of-a-kind Salem souvenir. The owner has a sixth sense for creating perfect, personalized perfumes from essential oils, or choose from among House Blends and Olde Salem Scents (samples are only $4), like Fire of Isis and Scarlet Letter. Take a lunch break at Gulu-Gulu Café (247 Essex St.) to nosh on a platter of stinky cheeses and smoked meats, sample sweet or savory crepes, and taste a brew from the acclaimed and always-changing beer menu. Then relive

Bangin’ bites at 62

the ’80s with beanbag chairs and old-school board games down the street at café/dessert bar Coven (281 Essex St.) and see if you can resist the baked goodies and cereal bar (complete with sippy bowls). Indulge your inner tourist by posing with a broom-riding Samantha Stevens at the Bewitched Statue (Lappin Park, corner of Essex St. and Washington St.) before squeezing through the secret passageway at The House of the Seven Gables (115 Derby St.), the real-life home that inspired Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novel. Take time for one more fright fest at the monster museum Count Orlok’s Nightmare Gallery (285 Derby St.), a creepy temple of classic horror movies where you’ll come face-to-face with Frankenstein and Freddy Krueger. For your final meal, dig into meat pies and spotted dick at The Old Spot (121 Essex St.), a British pub with yummy food and friendly regulars. Or try the wiener schnitzel and potato pancakes at Café Polonia (118 Washington St.). End the night with a Pop Rock Martini at Rockafellas (231 Essex St.). Or if you’re brave enough, try their Helltini, which is so Hades-hot, you’ve got to sign a waiver to imbibe. Either way, you’ll be drinking in the taste of fabulous Salem.

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While you may know her only as Kelly Kapoor on The Office, Mindy Kaling is one of Tinseltown’s most sought-after comedic writers. Here, she talks about forgiving Woody Allen, why she’ll never have a one-night stand, and the new life strategy she’s adopting as a result of this interview BY JILL SOLOWAY MINDY KALING HAS been a household name since 2005, when she originated the role of chatty customer-service rep Kelly Kapoor on the hit NBC sitcom The Office. But you might not know that this multitalented 32-year-old comedic powerhouse has also written 22 of the show’s episodes, directed 4 of them, and is credited as its co-executive producer. As a fellow TV writer, I’ve known Mindy for years. But we’ve never really had the chance to hang out and talk shop about being funny women making our way in Hollywood—until now. Born Vera Mindy Chokalingam in Cambridge, MA, to Indian immigrant parents, Mindy cut her teeth on comedy as a member of an improv troupe at Dartmouth in the late ’90s. I became aware of her talent a few years later, in 2003, when she was making a splash playing Ben Affleck in a hilarious play she wrote with comedy partner Brenda Withers called Matt & Ben. My group-monologue show, Sit n’ Spin, was at the Aspen Comedy Fest the same year her play was, but we were never together at the right time. Then in 2007, I started a BUST-y feminist nonprofit with my friends called OBJECT, and Mindy performed at one of our Lady Parties as a response to Vanity Fair writer Christopher Hitchens saying that women aren’t funny. We passed each other backstage—again, we were in the same place— but we simply didn’t get the chance to connect.

As more years passed, of course I loved her on The Office. Then I got a delicious new taste of Mindy when I became one of her approximately 1,481,642 Twitter followers. Her tweets are consistently very funny, although I must admit, it did make me a little insecure to know what she was up to. It seemed like she was always having slumber parties with Samantha Ronson and Jordan Rubin and Sofifi, who was Nicole Richie’s best friend. That meant Mindy must know Nicole Richie, which, for me, took her out of the fellow-lady-writer camp and into the fancy-lady stratosphere. I was certain I was in no way cool enough for her—which seems ironic, now that I know the book of personal humor essays she’s busily preparing to debut in November is called Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns). A few months later, I ran into Mindy at Zooey Deschanel’s birthday party (which makes me sound a lot cooler than I am). And then I got the call to interview her. So I went to meet her…a day early. That’s right, I accidentally showed up at the photo studio a full 24 hours ahead of time. I came home. I made turkey meatballs. I went to sleep. Then I woke up and returned to the photo studio where Mindy was dressed in a beautiful blouse and standing in front of some flowered wallpaper, looking much like a flower herself. I was in the right place at the right time. Finally.


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I’m so happy to have you to myself for a whole hour! I’m happy too! You did [BUST interviews with] Diablo Cody and Amy Poehler, and I’ve never had someone interview me who has so many cool credentials. The Oblongs [which Soloway wrote for in 2001 and 2002] is my favorite animated show ever. And then you wrote for Six Feet Under? Your career is so cool! Wow, thank you. I think it’s reaching a pinnacle right now. Don’t fuck it up. [laughs] You write in your book about soul-mate best friends. I’ve always felt it was really hard for me to have good relationships with guys because I was getting my most intimate stuff from my best friends. Have you ever had that kind of dichotomy? I’ve been very blessed to have really amazing, close female friends who feel like family. And I constantly compare the guys I’m dating with my very best friends. I have conversations with my best girlfriends that are like, “I wish you could just turn into a guy.” Doesn’t everyone have that conversation? Totally. So, are you dating anybody right now? Yeah. I have a boyfriend of almost three years, actually. His name is David, and he’s a web analyst and an actor. Do you have any marriage fantasies? Married people need to step it up, because the most depressing people I’m meeting at parties are married people. They always want to talk about how much work it is all the time. Marriage just seems so tough the way it’s presented to me by my friends in L.A. But I would like to get married. My parents have a great marriage. They really love each other, and they’re best friends. Or, no, they’re not best friends; they’re pals. I think your best friend can only be a woman if you’re a straight woman. But they’re pals, and I love that. I want to definitely have something like that. You’ve directed some episodes of The Office, and you also recently wrote a screenplay called The Low Self-Esteem of Lizzie Gillespie. Do you ever think about directing that movie? I have actually thought about directing it. Even more so because my friend Lena Dunham [writer/director of Tiny Furniture] directs everything she writes. I talked to her about it because I’ve always thought the most daunting thing would be to make that jump if you haven’t gone to film school. Lena read the script, and she really inspired and encouraged me, saying, “I think you should direct it.” So now when I think about that script, I think it would be something I would like to direct. What is your screenplay about? It’s about a girl with really low self-esteem who makes terrible decisions because of it. But she comes out of it, and not while she’s with a guy.

“I constantly compare the guys I’m dating with my very best friends. I have conversations with my best girlfriends that are like, ‘I wish you could just turn into a guy.’”

What did writing your book bring to you creatively that you’ve never done before as a writer? Because my personality and my tastes run very girly, people are surprised that I’m a writer on the show, a producer on the show, and that I’ve written 22 episodes of The Office, which I’m really proud of. And I think what’s great about the book is that there’s tons of just straight-comedy pieces in it. I think I’m a funny joke writer, and this is one of the only times where I can show that off. I just wanted to do something on my own where I didn’t have to wait for a lot of people to say, “Let’s do it.” Take me through a Mindy Kaling day when you’re not going to work. My most productive time as a writer is in the morning. But I like to sleep until 1 or 2 p.m., the same as when I was 13. So every morning is as painful as if I’m being ripped out of a coma. I try to wake up between 7 and 8, and then I’ll go for a slow jog for 45 minutes. Then I try to eat a healthful breakfast, but three out of seven mornings of the week, I’ll get McDonald’s. Then I’ll start to write. You haven’t tweeted yet? No. I will tweet late morning. Now it’s time to work. With Twitter, there are some days when I feel like I’m forcing myself to tweet. But luckily, I always kind of want to tweet, usually about something that bothers me. I tweet without thinking about the consequences. Which has gotten me into trouble. Recently I tweeted, “I can’t read another article about how great it is to see the Harry Potter kids growing up.” And everyone was like, “Why all the hate? Emma Watson’s a thousand times prettier than you!” Sometimes people tweet at you, and it’s like, You just wanted to tell me I was ugly. You’ve been waiting with that insult in your heart to tell me.

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What’s your relationship to being beautiful or hot as an actress? Do you think about it a lot? I try not to think about it, but of course, I think about it a lot. I’m 32, so someone saying I’m not pretty does not have as big an effect on me as it would if they were saying I’m not funny or not smart. I would be really upset about that. But the pretty thing doesn’t bother me that much. Yeah, when we’re on the show, I want to look skinny, have perfect makeup, get my Spanx on, get a good angle, and get good lighting. But it wouldn’t superoffend me if Joan Rivers doesn’t think I look hot on the red carpet.

Who are your other heroes? What artists or writers do you look up to? I really look up to Lena Dunham. Her voice is so authentic and funny, and I haven’t seen her do something clichéd yet. I also loved Melissa McCarthy in Bridesmaids. That performance was Oscar-worthy. It was so deeply funny and honest—I’d love to work with her. Woody Allen is amazing. I just saw Midnight in Paris, and I was like, “Is this the same guy who did Match Point and Hannah and Her Sisters?” I can’t believe how many times he’s reinvented his career.

Do you feel like it’s harder for women writers in Hollywood? I don’t think I’ve had fewer opportunities being a woman, but I have heard different people whom I care about on the show say, “You’re actually a great writer!” You know, I’ve been on the show since the very beginning, and I was in a ton of episodes. There’s no reason you would have to say “actually,” except for the fact that I’m a woman and it’s a surprise that I would be great. It’s not like I got to the show last year. I’m a veteran on The Office, and I sometimes wonder when I will just be considered a great writer.

Do you forgive him for marrying Soon-Yi? At the time, I remember thinking, God, that is so gross that he married his kind-of daughter. But they’re still married, and they’re really in love. So I feel like love exonerates them a little bit. But man, that was superdisturbing when it happened. I was like, “Oh…this is when Mia Farrow’s life becomes a Kafka short story.”

Do you feel like you want to move more toward acting or writing in the future? I’ll always identify as a writer, but I’d like to do half and half. I want to write roles for myself. This is going to sound strange, but I’ve always been very inspired by Tyler Perry. I think it’s because the first acting job that ever got me any attention was playing Ben Affleck in Matt & Ben, and Tyler Perry got such a huge following playing his character Madea. I just thought it was so original and so strange and so weird that he made this dynasty off Madea as his launching pad. Obviously, Larry David and Tina Fey are other people whose careers I really admire, but Tyler Perry is the one whom I feel the most affinity for.

“It’s impossible to charm me enough for me to want to sleep with you based on an evening’s worth of conversation.”

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Let’s talk about feminism. You know how there’s a kind of postmodern feminist perspective of, like, 100 percent tolerance, everything is awesome, we’re all sisters… I believe that we’re all sisters. When you’re a comedy writer, you are so tuned in to human flaws, but I think I have to shut that off sometimes, especially when a young woman is just trying to come up. Even if she makes mistakes, I try to be encouraging instead of pointing out flaws or being a hater. This is where I am with feminism. Because of our pornidentified youth culture, I feel some urge as a feminist to say, “You can write!” or “You can be something other than your implants!” It’s hard to know where to go next with the future of feminism, ’cause it seems like it’s at a standstill. I don’t know if this is a feminist issue, but there are certain TV shows that I just can’t watch because I’m not interested in frank talk about sexuality. I don’t know whether it’s the way I was raised, but I don’t love raunchy, personal tell-alls. I’ve always been squeamish with that. I don’t think it’s awful; it’s just not for me. So when I see feel-good comedies about girls who are saying, “We can fuck just like guys!,” I’m sometimes like, “OK, well, we’ve all been given this sector of inappropriateness that Sarah Silverman pioneered, but we can’t all wield it as adeptly as she can,” you know? In your book, you write about how other people can have one-night stands but that you’ve always wondered how it’s possible. I think the reason I haven’t had a one-night stand is it’s impossible to charm me enough for me to want to sleep with you based on an evening’s worth of conversation. That’s not going to do it. Of course I love good-looking guys. But even if Daniel Craig himself was talking to me at the Four Seasons bar for an hour and a half about playing James Bond, I wouldn’t think, I just have to sleep with this guy. For me—and this has nothing to do with being a woman—I have to know someone better to have those urges.

As a TV personality, do you like getting recognized, or do you get annoyed? I love getting recognized. I love people liking me or liking the show. What I don’t love is when guys act like they’re doing me a favor by even saying how much they like me. Like, at my boyfriend’s birthday two years ago, a guy came up to me at the bar and was like, “Hey, big fan. Love the show.” And I was like, “OK, great.” And he was like, “Can you come over to my friend? It’d be an awesome funny joke for you to say how much you wanna fuck him.” I was so revolted. The word fuck shouldn’t come up with a woman you’ve never met before.


What did you say? I just said, “That’s so gross. This is my boyfriend’s birthday party. No, absolutely not.” He started apologizing, and I just walked away. People think they can ask you to do something embarrassing or humiliating because you’re not Angelina Jolie or something. But 85 percent of my interactions are with cute 14-year-old girls who are like, “I wanna be a comedy writer!” And that’s amazing. When you’re writing, do you feel that there’s anything different about being female that you have to consider that guy writers don’t have to consider? If you’re a professional woman with a nice career, you battle with two things you want to be. I believe in fairy tales, and I wanna be swept off my feet—I have that part of me that exists, which is a version of my 13-yearold self. But then there’s a part of me that thrives on competition with men and buying things for myself and having autonomy. That brings me a kind of joy that I can’t describe. A huge part of my confidence comes from being able to do that. But the other side sees a trophy wife and is like, “Wow, she really worked it out for herself. She’s completely taken care of.” Even though I’m supposed to be really disgusted by a woman who’s taken care of. I don’t know if a lot of men wrestle with those issues. I don’t know if men have fully had that conversation with themselves about whether it’s fine to be taken care of by their wife. I watch those Housewives shows and I think, These women aren’t idiots. They are great conversation partners for their husbands, they throw great dinner parties, they have friends, they work on the boards of nonprofits, they’re living full lives. But their main job is to be a product, as opposed to our job. We make things as writers. We have the easier job because I can go through seven marriages and I would always have my writing career. It seems much more terrifying to not be in charge of my own money and destiny. That’s what I think about all the time.

I try to inhabit the identity of being a writer to get my mind off making people want to have sex with me. If people find you attractive and want to have sex with you, great. But to actually put time and energy into it feels like a competition I can’t win, so I just stay out of it. I couldn’t put more than 10 or 15 minutes a day into it. I love that, Jill. I want to do that as well. I’m gonna copy you. Don’t copy me, I got nothing! But you look so cute, and you’re telling me that it took no effort. I don’t look that cute. You look really cute. Thank you. Gosh. I don’t feel cool, but I’m glad you said that. "

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Martina Fugazzotto tends to her back-alley farm

Dirty Girls On rooftops and in backyards, urban farmers are turning city spaces into something totally country

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Frieda Lim’s herbs

Meg Paska’s backyard chicken coop


ORNING DEW SPARKLES on plush callaloo leaves, squat and round Prospera eggplants hang heavy from their vines, chickens cluck happily as they scratch the dirt, and bees whir in and out of vibrant sunflowers. But tractors, pastures, and a barn are nowhere to be found, and there is no pitchfork-carrying, overalls-clad man in sight. Instead, these veggies and flowers thrive in recycled Tupperware containers, the chickens live in the backyard of an apartment building, the bees’ drone drowns out the noise of traffic, and they’re all tended to by pioneering women right in the heart of Brooklyn, NY. In fact, urbanites everywhere are staking their claim to the land, even if their only land is a back alley or the top of a building. And in New York City, women are at the forefront of this movement, particularly the farmers featured here—the ladies behind Brooklyn Homesteader, Slippery Slope Farm, the Youth Farm, and FarmTina—who are industriously bringing the country to the city and loving every minute of it. They’re juggling neighbors, full-time jobs, and feral cats as they reconnect with nature and their communities and help others do the same. We have their stories, as well as some DIY projects so you can get started on your own urban farm, no matter how small.


Youth Farm’s bounty

The flowers of Slippery Slope Farm

days a week on a farm upstate. Though Paska is happy to be homesteading in the middle of the city, it’s not without its urban challenges. Despite beekeeping’s recent legalization in New York City, raising bees in Brooklyn still entails fending off the government, apparently: Paska recently received a slew of citations from misguided health inspectors, claiming that her hives were not up to N.Y.C. standards, although they fall well within the regulations. Paska’s desire for self-sufficiency informs most of her culinary activities—she also cans, preserves, brews beer, and makes butter, and she documents her escapades on “It’s more about trying to be as autonomous as I can be over food intake. I’m also incredibly cheap,” Paska admits, with a laugh. “The novelty and the satisfaction of making something yourself doesn’t ever wear off.” Here, she shares her favorite winter canning project: pickled green tomatoes.

Meg Paska’s PICKLED GREEN TOMATOES Makes three 16 oz. jars This easy recipe is a great way to use any unripe tomatoes leftover at the end of the season. And canning lets you carry the taste of summer into fall and winter.


It’s 99 degrees in Brooklyn, and Meg Paska, 31, is wearing full-length overalls. “My family says, ‘What the hell are you doing in the city, walking around in your overalls like some kind of farmer?’” she tells me. But Paska is a farmer. With an extreme interest in self-sufficiency, she keeps chickens and a raised vegetable bed in her backyard and is a local beekeeping guru, thanks to the hives she tends on the rooftop of her apartment building. Her days begin at 6 a.m.: she feeds her cats, makes a cup of coffee, and then heads to her backyard to feed her chickens and let them frisk about, scratching and pecking the garden as she fusses with the weeding and watering. But Paska didn’t always spend her days tending bees and chickens; she arrived in Brooklyn by way of Baltimore, MD, and, about a year ago, quit her job at a children’s clothing company to begin homesteading full-time. She left her position for the serenity of farming but decided to stay in the city for her friends and the culture. “Nature is still here, hiding in the cracks,” she says. Paska’s current priority is her bees, which inspired her to start a women’s beekeeping collective, Bees N’ Beers. “I try to do as much as I can to foster community,” she says. Her small community supported agriculture (CSA) program for honey provides supplemental income; she funds the majority of her farming by teaching beekeeping and urban-horticulture classes, as well as working a few

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INGREDIENTS: 1½ cups of apple cider vinegar; 1½ cups of water; ½ Tbsp. pickling salt; 1½ Tbsp. sugar; 1½ small sweet onions, peeled and quartered; 3 Tbsp. pickling spice; 1 jalapeño, sliced; 6 cloves of garlic, halved; 2½ cups of green tomatoes, cut into bite-size pieces MATERIALS: 3 Ball pint jars, tongs Place vinegar, water, salt, and sugar in a pot, and set to boil. Place open jars and lids in a separate large pot, and cover with water. Bring these to a boil for several minutes to sterilize. Then remove the jars and lids with tongs, and place them on a towel on the counter. Fill each jar with half an onion, 1 Tbsp. pickling spice, about 6 slices of jalapeño, and 2 halved cloves of garlic. Then fill each jar to the threading with green tomatoes. Top them off with the hot vinegar-brine solution, covering the tomatoes completely with liquid. Wipe the rim of the jar with a clean, dry towel, and secure the lids onto them. Invert the jar for a few minutes to allow it to seal. Pickles processed this way can be kept in the refrigerator for up to a year.

Frieda Lim’s FALL CROP SUB-IRRIGATED PLANTER (SIP) This handcrafted SIP makes watering so easy, you’ll barely have to think about it. Make it now and plant delicious herbs or fall crops, like mixes for lettuce or greens, Asian greens, spinach, and radishes. MATERIALS: Water-tight planter/window box (without the drain holes punched); nursery flats or the plastic containers that strawberries and cherry tomatoes come in; 2" – 3" of ½" vinyl tubing; one ½-liter water bottle (you may need 1 or 2 additional bottles, depending on the depth of your container); organic potting mix (not soil); organic granular fertilizer (like Espoma Garden-tone); water source via nonlead, drink-safe hose; soil probe (available at TOOLS: Drill with ½" drill bit, box cutter, Sharpie

Frieda Lim SLIPPERY SLOPE FARM “I wanted to learn to grow food in the smallest corner,” says Frieda Lim. Her Slippery Slope Farm is a case study in successful microfarming in a cramped city setting—in this case, her Brooklyn rooftop. For her venture, she turned to an underutilized method of growing known as sub-irrigated planters, or SIPs. Despite their sophisticated name, SIPs have a relatively simple design: a two-part container in which the top holds the soil and plant(s), suspended slightly above a lower chamber that holds water, like a mini reservoir. There is no top-down watering; instead, roots suck the water up, which both conserves water and your energy, since you don’t have to water as often. Lim has 75 SIPs lining the perimeter of her rooftop, creating a junglelike feel in an industrial neighborhood. Her farm fuses the aesthetic with the practical: lush tomato vines climb a wall behind a flurry of purple butterfly peas, which Lim slyly notes have the Latin name clitoria ternatea. She grows enough edibles to provide herself with fresh veggies and herbs year-round. “I think to myself, What am I cooking tonight that I can grab from the garden?” Lim says. And ironically, she often takes her harvested produce along on family weekends spent in upstate NY. “It’s funny because I bring what’s on my roof to the country,” she says. Lim believes that SIPs are better-suited to an urban environment— they’re portable and easily adapted to fit any size living space, and they produce delicious results. “I hope I’m turning people on to another alternative—that I’m pushing the envelope with methods,” Lim says. Here, she shares one of her smaller designs, perfect for a window box.

First prepare your windowbox by creating an overflow drain hole: drill a ½"-diameter hole in one of the narrow sides of the window box, 2" from the bottom. To create a water/aeration reservoir, line the bottom of the box with the upside-down nursery flats or containers. Cut them to fit if necessary (there can be slight gaps between). Finish the overflow drain hole with the vinyl tube: mark and cut a hole in the side of the nursery flat/plastic container that aligns with the ½" drill hole; place the vinyl tubing through both the window box and interior container so that a portion of it sticks outside the window box. Next, create a water fill tube. At the opposite end of the window box from the overflow drain hole, use a box cutter to cut a hole in the top of the nursery flat or plastic container that fits the neck of a water bottle. Place the neck of one water bottle in the hole, and cut the bottom of the bottle off so that it’s level with the top of the window box. If necessary, put another water bottle neck-down within the first to create a longer fill tube. Then fill the container with potting mix. Add 1 cup of fertilizer for a 30" window box (adjust amount depending on the size of your container). Get your system started by drenching the potting mix until water begins to trickle from the overflow drain hole. This is the only time you will need to top-water. Plant the seedlings per package directions. Place in a spot that gets 6 hours of direct sunlight. Then use your soil probe to accurately gauge when to water. When the time comes, fill the water-bottle fill tube until water trickles from the overflow drain hole. Continue filling the water-bottle fill tube as necessary.

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“The goal is for kids to gain the entrepreneurship to begin growing seedlings around other parts of the city.” Here, they offer directions for making a low-tunnel cold frame for your garden bed, which allows you to harvest greens through the cold winter months, furthering the fruits of your own seedlings.

Youth Farm’s LOW-TUNNEL COLD FRAME A low-tunnel cold frame is great for extending your growing season. It’s like putting a tent over your garden bed so that it functions as a greenhouse. These directions make a 4' x 8' frame with materials from your local hardware store, but you can easily size up or down, depending on your garden bed.

Elizabeth Ayer, Stacey Murphy, Molly Culver, and Martha Jackson YOUTH FARM AT THE HIGH SCHOOL FOR PUBLIC SERVICE On a bright Wednesday evening, Molly Culver, 30, the flower farmer at the Youth Farm, is showing her college-aged apprentice how to pour a fish emulsion over the budding sunflowers and celosias. “You want to water the green part more than the roots when we water this late in the afternoon, because the stomata open when it’s cooler,” she explains, demonstrating with her hands. Culver is one of the four women behind Brooklyn’s Youth Farm, along with education coordinator Stacey Murphy, 37, farm and market manager Elizabeth Ayer, 29, and market and outreach assistant Martha Jackson, 28. Together, they educate both kids and adults about the values of farming while creating access to fresh and nutritious food for low-income communities. Thanks to a principal who was looking for a better way to use lawn space, the one-acre farm sprawls before the High School for Public Service—rows of tomatoes, corn, and eggplants reach toward the sky, as bushels of kale and chard obscure the ground. The farm carries an aura of the rural, but the street sounds and nearby close-knit row houses serve as reminders of its urban setting. From squash to snapdragons to sage, the women grow a total of 40 kinds of vegetables, 55 varieties of flowers, and 10 types of herbs, and the produce is sold at a Wednesday on-site market, as well as through a CSA program. All four contribute near-full-time hours doing physical labor and administrative support, half of which is volunteered. But they’re more concerned with food justice than profitability—it’s why they choose to farm in the city. “Being an urban farmer provides a unique opportunity to make a statement about urban food access,” Culver says. “We’re here because we need to create a new food system,” Ayer adds. The Youth Farm’s programs include adult apprenticeships, paid summer jobs for youth, and in-class curriculum during the school year. “We’re providing a space in the community to learn about food and agriculture,” Ayer says.

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MATERIALS: Three 8-foot sections of 2 x 4s or 2 x 6s; 24 1½" galvanized screws; eight ¼" pipe brackets; five 10-foot pieces of ¼" PVC pipe; 8 zip ties; 20 feet of transparent plastic paint tarp; 10 feet of strong rope; two 2-foot stakes; compost/top soil TOOLS: Hammer or mallet, scissors, handsaw, screwdriver or cordless drill Cut one of the boards in half. Screw the boards together to form a rectangle, like a bed frame, so that it’s 4" tall. Secure with two screws where each corner connects. Screw the pipe brackets onto the insides of the 8' sections of wood. The brackets should be even on both sides, with 1 on each end (about 1" from the corner) and 2 spaced evenly between them. Take a piece of PVC, and place one end into the first bracket on one side. Gently and carefully bend the PVC, and put it through the coordinating bracket on the other side of the frame. Repeat for the remaining 3 brackets. Cut the last piece of PVC to 8', and slide it underneath the arches so that it creates a support beam. Secure it to each arch with zip ties (in both directions, creating an X), making sure the closers are underneath. Place the frame over your garden bed. Place the tarp over the cold frame, like a tent, and center it, with 5 extra feet hanging over each 8' side. Secure one side of the tarp by burying it under soil. Secure the other side of the tarp with rocks or bricks. On each short side, gather the extra tarp; tie with rope, making it taught; tie the rope to a stake; and hammer it down, angled away from the cold frame. When you’re ready to weed or harvest, simply move the rocks or bricks, and roll up one side of the tarp.

lems. After finding unexplained cat poop in her lettuce bed, she made an unfortunate realization about what her bed resembled. “I was using one of those under-the-bed plastic storage containers and filled it with soil,” Fugazzotto says, laughing. “It was the neighborhood litter box!” She recently attended a rabbit-butchering class in Brooklyn, which inspired her to reconsider her own farm’s potential: she hopes to eventually raise rabbits for meat and a few chickens for eggs. Fugazzotto sees herself forever growing food in a city setting and expanding her farm-inspired mixed-drink repertoire. Read on for directions on how to infuse vodka, and use it to make a “garden-worthy” cocktail.

Martina Fugazzotto’s BEET-INFUSED VODKA + COCKTAIL RECIPE Didn’t think you could drink your vegetable bed’s winter yield? Think again. Infusing vodka is a cool way to use your bounty, and this take on a White Russian is totally delish.

BEET-INFUSED VODKA INGREDIENTS: Cheap 1-liter bottle of vodka, 3 red beets MATERIALS: Large sealable glass container (e.g. wide-mouth Ball jar), funnel, glass bottle with tight cap (available at Ikea, the Container Store, or kitchen-supply stores. If you reuse a bottle that housed something else, just be sure to wash it with vinegar first, as the vodka will suck up any lingering flavors.)

Martina Fugazzotto FARMTINA “Almost everything I plant is cocktail-worthy,” Martina Fugazzotto, 29, jokes. “That’s what makes this city-ish.” Fugazzotto’s farm is about as urban as it gets. Forget backyards and rooftops: Fugazzotto keeps her vegetables in plastic containers in the alleyway behind her apartment. She’s proving that someone with no growing experience can take even the most citified spot and make it yield a tremendous harvest. The produce she reaps runs the gamut from edamame to lemons to watermelon, and she blogs about her agricultural adventures at “On a basic level, 50 percent of my blogging is making sure my mom knows what I’m doing,” Fugazzotto admits. The other 50 percent is sharing her exploration with budding urban farmers. “It’s a place for beginners to talk to me and not be intimidated,” she says. “I’m not a professional; I’m a normal person experimenting and making mistakes.” Fugazzotto began FarmTina two years ago to supplement her love of cooking, “I really like to eat food,” she tells me. “And I accidentally became selfsufficient.” But FarmTina is not a full-time venture for the digital-marketing strategist, who tends to her farm in the off-hours. “I never want to go fullfarmer,” she says. “You don’t have to give up your life to grow your own food.” Keeping her container farm comes with unique struggles. “Rural farms have deer; I have rat problems,” Fugazzotto says. She also has feral-cat prob-

Using a clean Brita filter (or other home-water-filtration pitcher), filter the vodka as you would filter water, at least three times. This honestly makes cheapo vodka taste better! Pour your vodka into a large sealable glass container. Add uncooked beets, peeled, washed, and quartered. Seal the container and put in the fridge. After 3 days, strain out the beets (don’t leave them in, even though they look pretty). Funnel the newly red vodka into a glass bottle with a tight cap, and seal.

BEET-SALAD COCKTAIL INGREDIENTS: 2 oz. homemade beetinfused vodka; ½ oz. walnut liqueur (I use Nux Alpina Walnut Liqueur), ½ oz. cream (or soymilk), splash of simple syrup Pour vodka, walnut liqueur, and cream in a glass, and gently stir. Add simple syrup to taste. Use frozen peeled pieces of beet in place of ice, so your drink doesn’t get watery. Garnish with fresh basil or a beet slice. "

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MERMAIDS For years, the women of Jeju Island have risked it all to fill their nets. But a new generation seeking careers beyond the sea threatens to kill this centuries-old tradition

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their marine labor, most of which are shipped overseas to restaurants, some even winding up on American sushi platters. Many haenyeo whiz to work on motorbikes around 7 a.m. At a warehouse, they don rubber wet suits, glass masks, fins, and taewaks, orange flotation devices with nets that resemble giant basketballs. Metal tools in hand, they climb aboard a boat, ready to free-dive for hours as they fill their nets. The women have no formal training; they learned to dive from their mothers and grandmothers, building endurance over time. Jeju Islanders know the haenyeo are at work when they hear a whistling noise off the coast. The haenyeo make that whistle sound, called sumbisori, when they inhale and exhale after rising to the surface. They can stay under water longer that way, about two to three minutes, some even up to ten. “When I’m in the water, my body feels free because of its energy,” says Ko Myeong-ho, a haenyeo in her 80s. “That’s why I’m comfortable in the sea, even though I am very tired when I come out.” Fatigued, the haenyeo wrap up their work back at the co-op when they put out their catch, weigh it, and calculate their profits. The grannies aren’t unusual only because of their unique diving capabilities. The economic independence they’ve created for Jeju’s women clashes with the Confucian patriarchy of Korea. But despite an intimate knowledge of foraging the sea, many haenyeo are still managed by men—who, except for a few cases, don’t dive in themselves. That's because a massacre in 1948 and the Korean War greatly reduced the male population of Jeju Island. But it comes down to physicality as well: anatomically, women have better endurance in the water because of their higher body-fat percentage. It’s no doubt that the haenyeo drive also plays a part. “When they look at the sea, they see it as a working field,” says Brenda Paik Sunoo, the Korean-American author of Moon Tides: Jeju Island Grannies of the Sea, whose photos are featured here. That work is determined by the lunar calendar and amounts to about 15 days per month. When the haenyeo aren’t in the water, many farm the land, harvesting onions, garlic, cabbage, flowers, and tangerines, which are sold at local markets. Unlike the marine product, the women share profits equally. It’s a practice that exemplifies their sister-like bond. “What is most remarkable to me is the sense of strength, as well as community—walking into a room of 100 diving women, it is physically palpable,” says Dr. Anne Hilty, an American psychologist who lives among the Jeju women. Sunoo elaborates: “When they’re together, they’re sharing everything together.” They even share each other’s pain, from life’s first tide to its last. Haenyeo midwives have shepherded their younger sisters through childbirth, and in turn, healthy haenyeo regularly feed and bathe the elderly former divers. In 1999, a haenyeo and her daughter even founded a shelter to assist survivors of domestic violence. The haenyeo sisterhood carries over into social activism as well. One day a month, they serve as guardians of the sea. On that day, they pass over treasure in search of trash: Styrofoam, cigarette butts, fish traps, and candy wrappers.


ESTERNERS HAVE CALLED them the last mermaids on earth. It’s an appropriate designation: these women divers plunge up to 65 feet into the ocean with nothing more than their lungs and a wet suit, and they may not be around much longer. But unlike Hans Christian Andersen’s Little Mermaid, the haenyeo, or women of the sea, aren’t teenagers. Most are grannies. True, their wrinkled faces tell a story, but it’s no fairy tale. For hundreds of years, the haenyeo have struggled to survive as the primary economic providers of Korea’s Jeju Island. But now, because of the danger inherent in free-diving and the changing tides of women in the workplace, the cherished tradition is in jeopardy of dying out. Still, the haenyeo cling to the only thing that might survive: their legacy. “Jeju women are strong, energetic, and diligent,” says Youngsook Han, a professor at Jeju National University. She grew up watching the haenyeo; their free-diving tradition—one that has been passed from mothers to daughters, many believe, since prehistoric times—even seemed commonplace. But it’s not: they are the only women on the planet who dare to do what they do. These gutsy grannies dive to unthinkable depths, without any machinery to aid their breathing, in order to nab the edible innards of the sea: abalone, squid, seaweed, urchins, octopuses, and small snails. They then profit from their dives by selling the fruits of

Though the haenyeo genuinely care about the sea’s well-being, they’re also concerned about what it will yield, so the women gather yearly for a shamanist ceremony to ensure an abundant harvest. They set up a seaside altar, gingerly adorning it with rice cakes, fruit, and sea products as offerings. Predominantly women, the shamans also regularly perform gut or spiritual ceremonies to protect the haenyeo. Belief in these practices intensified during the Japanese occupation of Jeju (1910-1945), when shamanist activities were forbidden and many haenyeo reportedly died. During this period, the haenyeo were also exploited, shipped as far as Japan, China, and Russia to dive for sea urchins for Japanese soldiers, never earning fair wages. While some traveled back and forth to see their families, others never returned. By the 1930s, the haenyeo had had enough. Women spearheaded protests, culminating in a 1932 gathering of 17,000 people, one of the biggest against Japan in Korea’s history. As a result, the women were taught to read, write, and calculate the weight of their catch, helping them to claim their rightful earnings. But overcoming these setbacks did little to secure the tradition’s endurance, and the haenyeo are dying out. In 1970, there were 15,000 of these women. By 2002, only 5,600 remained, with more than half older than 60. Now there are probably fewer than 2,500 left. The tradition is faltering in part because the job is dangerous. Rather than risk losing a catch, a haenyeo may risk her life by staying underwater too long, and most suffer pain in their extremities and joints. So today, young women are donning business suits rather than wet suits, especially as education has become open to females. “In former days, we women couldn’t help but work as haenyeo,” says Ko Chun-hwa, who is in her 80s. “There wasn’t any other way for us to earn a living.”

But thanks to the money these haenyeo earned, they have been able to afford their daughters a rightful education, which has allowed them to leave the island for safe, white-collar jobs. “I learned how to dive when I was in elementary school,” Han says. “My friends and I used to go to the sea and catch products in the shallow water whenever we had free time.” But Han stopped playing in the sea when she started middle school. “These days, all of the girls go to school,” she says. “They don’t have time to go to the sea to learn how to do haenyeo.” But despite the tradition’s dwindling, or perhaps because of it, writers and artists like Sunoo have descended upon Jeju, intrigued by the grannies’ peculiar prowess. It is this recent media storm that may well carry the haenyeo legacy into historic waters. Tourism could help keep the tradition afloat as well, with the recent opening of a Jeju Island haenyeo museum. There is even a school that emulates the haenyeo experience—but it’s for education, not job training. This validation has done much to elevate the free-divers’ confidence and that of their children. “I’m sure that their kids might have felt some shame saying that their mother was a haenyeo,” Sunoo says. Today that’s changed. “I think [younger women] are getting more interested in haenyeo, as haenyeo are getting more attention from outsiders,” Han says. Even their children’s children, who may never know the sea as a playground or a workplace, are learning to honor them. At the one-year celebration of the haenyeo museum opening, a group of Jeju kids sketched pictures of their submarine grannies. In those crayon and marker tributes, the free-diving women weren’t glamorized like the mermaids of Disney movies and fairy tales. Instead, they were shown as they truly are, harnessing the powerful sea for their families. "

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SLATE After a painful split from Saturday Night Live, comedian Jenny Slate found her next big break in the form of a little shell with shoes on BY ANNA BEAN PHOTOGRAPHED BY LIUDI HARA STYLED BY TURNER HAIR BY YOHEY NAKATSUKA MAKEUP BY CHIFUMI NAMBASHI


N THE SUMMER of 2010, comedian, writer, and ac- had friends over from upstate? Marcel is just himself, and it’s tor Jenny Slate had a feeling she might not be rehired really encouraging to know that so many people relate to that.” Slate grew up alongside two sisters in a Jewish family in for a second season on Saturday Night Live. From her work on “Pageant Talk” and “New Doorbells” to the hi- Milton, MA, and says that she loved comedy from an early larious “Just let her stay home and lez” sketch starring age. Whether it was the TV shows she watched, the children’s host Betty White, Slate had written and acted in some books she read, or the skits she performed at summer camp, of the show’s best moments of the year. Nonetheless, her sus- she says she was always chasing after what made her laugh. picions were eventually confirmed, and it was a blow for Slate “I found something funny in almost anything I saw and in al(and her fans). “I didn’t want that to be a death sentence for me,” most anyone I met,” she says. “There was funny everywhere, says the 29-year-old, sitting on the back porch of her Cobble Hill, and I knew that that was me—that’s my nest, that’s the egg that Brooklyn, home. “So instead, I made a character that I could live I came from.” Doing voices became a way for Slate to express with. The voice came first. It was a little voice, and I felt really herself in the somewhat stifling suburban world where she came of age, and this talent is something she utilizes in her little at the time—really teeny-tiny—but so full of words.” Collaborating with her fiancé, director Dean Fleischer- comedy today. “I want to be in the city surrounded by a billion Camp, Jenny lent that voice to a friendly seashell sporting voices and people. And I think doing a lot of voices is a crazy, pink sneakers and created a stop-motion short about the little psychotic way for me to be other people,” she says. “There are guy’s life called Marcel the Shell With Shoes On. Though the so many I can do, and I like that I keep it up, but I’m not like Robin Williams.” video is just over three minutes long, its Slate first got into the comedy scene charming aesthetic and idiosyncratic by joining an improv group at Columbia humor garnered millions of Internet University but says that she really just views and even attracted critical atwanted to become “a lady actress,” with tention from Sundance, the AFI, and emphasis on the lady. “I wanted boobs the New York International Children’s and a bra and a bush forever,” she says. Film Festival. Now Slate and Fleischer“I was so pissed as a six-year-old that I Camp have landed Marcel a two-book had a child’s body—not because I wantdeal with Penguin (the first book comes ed to have sex; I just wanted to be a womout November 1) and are developing the an. And I love being a woman. I love my premise into a TV show. “[Marcel] is bras, I love my tampons—I literally just my hero; he saved my life,” says Slate. “I love being a woman.” don’t know what I would have done if I Early in her career, Slate took a crehadn’t let myself create it.” ative gamble when she agreed to star in Full of rich, photo-realistic oil paintings a short film called Obvious Child that by artist Amy Lind, the first book, Marcel “GUESSWHATIWEAR I wrote with Karen Maine and Gillian the Shell With Shoes On: Things About ASAHAT?ALENTIL!” Robespierre. In the 2009 movie, her Me, is described by Slate as “a day in the character Donna gets brutally dumped, life.” And although it’s billed as a chilhas a fun one-night stand, and then dren’s picture book—with a downloadable audio portion so you can hear Marcel read aloud—much like wants to get an abortion when the condom fails. Despite what the short, it will please readers big and small. This broad appeal Hollywood would deem controversial subject matter, Slate was may stem from the fact that anyone who has ever felt little in totally game and made the character indelibly her own. “Dona great big world can connect with Marcel, who confides in his na is like so many women I know,” she says. “She’s a young lady audience with adorable revelations like, “Guess what I wear as who’s a freelancer, trying to put her own voice out there and a hat? A lentil!” And as he putters around his human-size house, have serious relationships and have sex. A lot of times in movvignettes like the one where he frets over “the mess”—actually ies or in books, when a normal, likable person has to have an a single leaf with teensy bites taken out of it amid some minia- abortion, it becomes this huge thing: How will it define her? ture plates, which prompts Marcel to stammer, “I invited some How is she going to make this decision? How are people going friends from upstate to come and eat salad, so that’s just how to react to it? But I don’t think that’s what the experience is it looks right now”—are sly reminders that sometimes we all like for most people.” That said, Slate adds, “People have abormake mountains out of mole hills. In many ways, Marcel mir- tions, and it’s not simple. The situation is not just ‘Should I or rors Slate’s vulnerability and strength. “Marcel’s very daring,” shouldn’t I?’ There’s a whole life surrounding everything all she explains. “He does take risks because he says things to try to the time. I like putting that out there.” In the more mainstream world of SNL and the other TV entertain people. And he also takes risks because he says things that are kind of boring. Like, why would you even care that he shows she’s appeared in since, like Brothers and Bored to

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Death—where she got to smooch Jason Schwartzman as his love interest Stella—Slate says portraying women in an honest light remains very important to her. “No matter what the part is, I feel like I take special care to not do anything that’s gratuitous or that feeds into stereotypes about women,” she says. For example, when she was recently cast in the liveaction role of “a mysterious jungle woman” for the Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chip-Wrecked movie (out in December), she was given a costume that she calls a “straight-up Survivor meets Temptation Island” getup. And she recalls thinking at first, “This is a weird sort of outfit for a kids’ movie, although if you watch Hannah Montana, they’re all wearing bikinis as pants—fine.” But Slate says she decided not to cave in to the sexy-island-lady cliché with her portrayal, despite what her costume implied. “Instead I thought, I’m just gonna play this however I imagine it, so when kids watch it, they’ll think, ‘What kind of lady is this? I’ve never seen a lady like this before,’” she says. “I feel that one of my responsibilities as an actress is basically to show that women can be many different things. There aren’t just four different types of women.” Frustrated with what she calls the “separate-but-equal thing” that goes on in the entertainment world, Slate also wishes that contemporary comedy wasn’t still so rigidly gendered. “Women are superstrong,” she explains. “When people were like, ‘Guys, go out and support Bridesmaids!’ I wanted to say, “They don’t need your support. Kristen Wiig is a genius. You need her support.’” Slate gets plenty of support herself from the enthusiastic crowd that gathers every week in the back of the Lovin’ Cup Cafe in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to see her do comedy with her “platonic life partner,” Gabe Liedman, in a show they host called Big Terrific with fellow comedian Max Silvestri. The duo’s routine often features their “Bestie x Bestie” video series, and in a recent episode in which the pair asks each other, “What is wrong with your body?” Slate complains, “I suffer from gastro-storms, a lot of inner wind, and precipitation. Cloudy with a Chance of Huge Meatballs—rated R.” She delights in all things scatological, especially when she thinks these kinds of jokes are rubbing the male establishment the wrong way. “I think guys really need to get over their thing that women don’t poop,” she says. “Grow up. Everyone shits. Just close the book.” Aside from her Marcel projects, Slate will be popping up in pop culture a lot more over the next few months, with her role in Chip-Wrecked, a vocal performance in the animated Dr. Seuss film The Lorax, a role in a Reese Witherspoon movie called This Means War, and a part in the HBO series Girls, created by Lena Dunham—whom Slate calls “one of the most impressive people I have ever met in my life in every way”— all on the horizon. But during her precious downtime, Slate may be found watching The Golden Girls. “It’s one of the most progressive shows that has ever been on TV,” she says. “Can you imagine someone pitching that show now? ‘It’s about

“I feel that one of my responsibilities as an actress is to show that women can be many different things.

There aren’t just four different types of women.” post-menopausal old ladies who wear giant tents as clothes. They all lost their husbands and they live together, but they’re super–sexually active, and they talk about sex and they need sex. And one of them’s a slut and one of them’s an idiot, and they’re just hilarious. And they’re disgusting. And they’re all alone—there’s no men.’” Clearly, SNL was just one opportunity for Slate to share her talents with the world, not the beginning or the end of her career. Now on the verge of a whole new venture, recalling the day when she came home from lunch to find that Fleischer -Camp had assembled the pieces to make Marcel’s body still fills her with wonder. There the little shell with shoes on stood “all by himself on the kitchen table,” she says. “And that was the point where I thought, There’s just so much else.” "

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[clockwise from top] Natasha Mifsud, Julie "Inde" Farris, Lisa Ramsden, and Georgia Hirsty

Freezing temperatures, grueling hours, and life-threatening danger at every turn: it’s all in a day’s work for the first all-female deck crew of Greenpeace’s eco-crusading ship the Arctic Sunrise


T’S A BITTERLY cold winter morning in New York Harbor, and I realize I’ve slept through my alarm. I’m down in the belly of a Greenpeace ship, where I’ve been invited to interview some of the women on board and spend the night before they depart for Boston, and the vessel is eerily quiet except for the whir of the engine. I was supposed to be helping one of the deckhands with the morning watch at 4 a.m., and it’s now after 6. I feel the ship creak and sway, and someone who wandered into my cabin in the middle of the night stirs in the bunk above me. I roll out of bed and pull on my warmest clothes, then make my way up the two narrow flights of stairs to the main deck where I hope to find Georgia Hirsty, the 25-year-old who’s keeping watch. Hirsty, a petite but muscular Indiana native with tanned skin and a lip ring, is one of four deckhands on the Arctic Sunrise, a Greenpeace activist vessel that travels the high seas saving wildlife, researching environmental damage, and tirelessly campaigning against big coal companies, illegal fishing operations, and global warming. These four deckhands—Hirsty, Natasha Mifsud, Lisa Ramsden, and Julie “Inde” Farris—have all signed up to do manual labor and maintenance on the ship for a minimum of three months, alongside 30 other crew members, and they’re the first all-female deck crew the Arctic Sunrise has ever had. Over the course of three months, each of these four women will not only test their physical limits, but they’ll also be involved in some daredevil stunts, like shutting down coal plants, scaling buildings or trees to hang dissenting banners, and staging non-violent protests. Their greatest challenge, however, comes from simply existing day-to-day in a tiny 160-foot-long space that’s constantly rocking and swaying. Built to break ice, the Arctic Sunrise doesn’t have a stabilizing keel, causing the ship to swing back and forth like a buoy with the slightest turbulence and earning it the nickname “the washing machine.” Ramsden, 25, who’s wearing glasses and a Peruvian beanie when I meet her, remembers particularly rough waters on their voyage between the Bahamas and Charleston, NC. “I couldn’t leave my bunk for 30 hours,” says the Ohio-born environmental-science major. “If I got up, I would throw up, so I just had to lie there. I couldn’t keep anything down. It was miserable, really miserable.” The Arctic Sunrise was commissioned in 1995 by Greenpeace, a prominent international environmental-activist group founded in the 1970s with the goal to “ensure the ability of the Earth to nurture life in all its diversity.” One of the ship’s first and most memorable campaigns involved occupying an oil-storage facility in the deep waters north of Scotland for three weeks in an attempt to stop ocean dumping. It also documented global warming in Antarctica by becoming the first vessel to circumnavigate a remote island that was once blocked by a massive ice shelf. The Arctic Sunrise even chased

off Japanese pirates who were illegally fishing for endangered Patagonian toothfish, a type of Antarctic sea bass. When I meet up with the Arctic Sunrise crew they’re traversing the Atlantic coast of the U.S. on a tour called Coal Free Future. Stopping by cities like Bridgeport, CT, and Wilmington, NC, they’re supporting local groups who are fighting to shut down coal plants. Because Greenpeace ships are magnets for publicity, the crew plans on aiding the efforts of these grassroots groups by hanging banners and organizing rallies or shutdowns to pique the interest of local media. Ramsden, who joined the crew because she’s a passionate crusader against mountaintop removal—a form of mining that requires the destruction of a mountain’s summit to access the coal inside— explains that they took on the issue because coal pollution is the single-largest source of global warming and is responsible for a host of health issues, including heart attacks and asthma. “Greenpeace has so many resources and has what it takes to shut down a coal plant,” she says. “We can be a tremendous asset to the groups who are already working on this fight.” A normal day for the deckhands starts with the 7:30 a.m. wake-up call. Chores start at 8, and they work until 5 p.m., with a break for lunch. Most of this time is spent cleaning and maintaining the ship, which involves chipping off old paint and repainting constantly. They’re also responsible for garbage, laundry, and cleanup, but the real test of their abilities comes when docking and undocking the ship from harbors. That’s when they haul ropes to secure the ship to the pier, lift heavy equipment, and collaboratively solve any issues that come up. It’s exhausting, difficult, and dangerous work. The stretched nylon ropes they haul can sometimes whip back into resting position at a speed so fast they could decapitate a person if she doesn’t move out of the way. Hirsty says once she was walking on an icy deck when the ship suddenly rolled, and she skidded dangerously close to the rail. “That was the first time I understood why people go overboard,” she says. On top of all the physical dangers her job entails, Hirsty is also the only deckhand who maintains a romantic relationship off the ship, adding an element of emotional risk to her occupation. “It was really hard the first time I left,” she says of being separated from her boyfriend, “but he’s amazingly supportive and patient.” She says he’s interested in environmentalism as well and even considered going on the ship with her, “but he gets seasick on ferries.” After a long day of ship maintenance, dinner is at 6, and then the deckhands are allowed free time to read, sleep, watch movies in the den, or plan for the next protest or campaign. In the kitchen, everything is secured down, including the toaster, which is anchored by two chopsticks. Pots and pans are placed on coasters so dinner doesn’t go flying when the ship rolls, and a sign over the small eating area reads “I Break for Whales.” The den is a small area with a few couches three levels down from the main deck, and it’s always packed with people on

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“Fishermen can be quite rough. They throw things at you, they shoot at you. And there’s no Coast Guard out there, there’s nothing.”

their computers, playing guitar, or drinking. Alcohol is allowed only after 5 p.m., and crew members, who must tally their drinks to pay for later, are asked not to become intoxicated. Ramsden, who helped with the last “beer run,” says the liquor-store employees usually gawk when she asks for “61 bottles of wine.” The night I stay over on the ship, they have a party in the hold, the large area directly below deck. Someone hangs a disco ball from the ceiling, and a curtain with a psychedelic mushroom on it is draped over a rope for décor. About 12 people show up, two-thirds of them men, and everyone stands around drinking wine while some start dancing to salsa music. One of the second mates grabs my hand and pulls me onto the dance floor. Mifsud and Farris are there, and I awkwardly shake my hips as the ship creaks and sways. Around midnight, the partygoers start making their way back to their bunks, and I happily follow, knowing I have to be up at dawn. But when I leave, Hirsty, whom I have the upcoming 4 a.m. morning watch with, is still dancing. The deckhands are the lowest in crew rank, so their tasks are grunt work. Ramsden is the newest member, so unlike the other three deckhands, who rotate tasks and jump in as needed, she’s stuck being the “garbologist,” responsible for organizing the garbage and bringing it to the “poop deck,” the storage area in the rear of the ship, where it can sit for weeks. Mifsud, 35, the most experienced deckhand, hails from the Mediterranean island of Malta and has sailed with environmental-action ships for 14 years. “It was never meant to be this long,” she says of her life at sea. “But I liked it, and I stayed.” Farris, 31, who has thick brown hair cascading down her back, started climbing at age 11 while growing up in Ohio and now trains other activists to hang banners on buildings, bridges, and trees. Only two of the deckhands are paid, Hirsty and Mifsud, and it’s a meager sum: about 20,000 euro a year. But the money isn’t what motivates them. Each of these women says she came to the ship looking partly for an adventure and partly for a chance to stop the destruction they see around them. Global warming, species extinction, mountaintop removal, and forest razing are all issues these women fight passionately. “There’s so much going on in the world and so many different causes, but it’s hard not to see the elephant in the room,” says Farris. “America’s emissions and output are having a huge, terrible effect on the world. We can criticize other places for the impact that they’re having, but the U.S.’s impact is by far the worst.” Because of Greenpeace’s controversial campaigns, the deckhands are often targeted by opposing political activists and extremists. One night in Wilmington, NC, during Hirsty’s

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watch, a man dressed in black approached the ship and removed one of the ropes that was securing it to the dock. Hirsty asked him to leave, but he came back an hour later. She woke up the captain, and they had to reinforce the ship’s lines. Another night in N.Y.C., Hirsty had to talk down two inebriated British soldiers who were yelling obscenities. The key, she says, is to get people to realize their state of mind and calm themselves. It’s an important skill to have, especially since Greenpeace activists are forbidden to use force, even in self-defense. “You’re not to be verbally violent, emotionally violent, or physically violent,” Ramsden explains. “Violence dilutes the message.” When campaigning, the chance of arrest for Greenpeace activists is also always a possibility, and most of the deckhands have had run-ins with the police. Mifsud, who’s committed to protecting endangered whales and fighting illegal fishing, has been arrested a half-dozen times. “I’ve been arrested in Sweden and Denmark,” she says. “When I was arrested in Turkey, the police were really nice. But when I was arrested in Australia, they had the most heinous prisons I have ever seen.” In Norway, she was even shot at by a whaler. The bullet pierced the boat she was in, and she almost sank. “Fishermen can be quite rough,” she says. “They throw things at you, they shoot at you. And there’s no Coast Guard out there, there’s nothing. It was one of those moments where you think, I might really get hurt this time.” In another instance, she was attempting to stop a huge container ship from illegally fishing, so she and a friend took a tiny boat and puttered between two massive vessels to prevent them from completing a cargo transaction. (The ships could have completed it, but doing so would have crushed the little boat she was in.) Mifsud and her friend held the ships off for some time, but eventually decided their lives were in serious danger and left the scene. “It was quite scary,” she recalls. “Sometimes there’s not much you can do when you have big boats against a small boat.” As tough as it can be to do activist work in places where there is no Coast Guard to protect you, on land, law enforcement is rarely on the side of civil disobedience. During a G-20 Summit campaign in Pittsburgh, PA, Farris was one of the climbers responsible for hanging a protest banner from a bridge. Unfortunately, the climbers never reached their target because they were being trailed by Homeland Security. “There were more police there than there were citizens,” she says of the G-20. “You couldn’t breathe without breathing on a police officer.” For the most part, these ladies shrug off the fact that they’re

Julie "Inde" Farris

Georgia Hirsty

Lisa Ramsden

an all-female deckhand crew on a ship where two-thirds of the staff is men. Mifsud says that when she first started, she wanted to prove to the men she could do everything they could, but as she’s grown older, that’s changed. “Now I know my limits, and if the box is too heavy for me to carry and there is someone to give me a hand, I’m going to ask for help,” she says. “I’m not going to break my back just to prove that I can do a man’s job.” Hirsty says she also feels pressure to show the men she’s perfectly capable of doing a task. “I try to ask for help when I need it,” she says. “But the problems come in when men assume I can’t do something I’m already doing. That assumption usually comes out of a really nice place, like, ‘Oh, I should go help her.’ It’s almost accidental infantilization. I tell them they have to trust that when I need help, I’ll ask, and then I’ll ask why they’re not rushing over to help Bob remove the five-gallon container. Helping them to think differently about it is empowering, but that’s not to say it’s not frustrating.” When their time on the ship is up, the crew will all have to assimilate back into their old lives, and that transition comes with challenges of its own. “I tend to get a little bit of postpartum depression when I finish an action or come off of something like this,” says Ramsden. “I go back to my friends who aren’t in Greenpeace, and it’s hard. It takes a while to get back into the swing of things.” One of the best parts of the work they do, they agree, is the community Greenpeace offers. “Those moments are beautiful when everyone comes together and makes something work,” says Hirsty. “A common goal, a shared objective—it’s amazing how people find a way to get along.” Regardless of any setbacks or physical hardships she may have faced so far, Hirsty doesn’t believe she’ll ever stop fighting for the causes she’s passionate about. “For me, there are things that are right and things that are wrong, and if someone told me that racism and sexism would never, ever stop, I would still fight for them to stop, even if I knew they never would,” she says. “You don’t fight the fight to win, you fight for the sake of fighting.” After I finish the morning shift with Hirsty, I’m led to the shore as the crew prepares to depart for Boston. The women suit up in orange jackets and hard hats and start hauling ropes and yelling orders. Hirsty stays on the bow to hoist up the anchor, while the other women focus on untying the ship’s lines and removing the gangway platform that’s connecting the ship to the dock. The gangway has to be lifted by a small crane, and Mifsud takes the lead in directing it to its resting area on the main deck. The captain watches from the second level and barks orders at the crew. As Farris grabs the last rope securing the ship to land, the Arctic Sunrise pulls away from shore and heads off down the Hudson River, disappearing into the distance, moving on toward another adventure. "

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A 0

uper natural eauty



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the bust guide


BJÖRK Biophilia (One Little Indian/ Nonesuch) Sometimes a simple old album isn’t enough. At least, it isn’t when you’re Björk. In conjunction with her seventh LP, Biophilia, she’s releasing an iPad app for each song as well as a full-length documentary about the record, and will be doing intimate live shows featuring a bevy of one-of-a-kind bespoke instruments. It’s over-the-top and maybe even a little self-important, but Biophilia is also beautiful, chilling, and unique. The album is flush with complicated industrial beats, dramatic buildups, haunting vocals, and unexpected juxtapositions of electronic and organic elements—classic Björk standbys. But there’s also a pervasive, repetitive plucking and ringing of instruments that she commissioned for the album, including a massive pendulum gravity harp (aka Sharpsichord), and a tuned gong. You can’t absorb the wall of fat synth lines and strong, emotional wailing of “Thunderbolt,” or the breathtaking whispers over aggressive beats of “Mutual Core,” without wanting to cry, shiver, gasp, or bite your fingernails off. [ERIN GRIFFITH]

BOOTS ELECTRIC Honkey Kong (Dangerbird) As the frontman of Eagles of Death Metal, Jesse Hughes led a group that created party anthems with a kind of bombastic, prophetically dirty sound that was missing in garage rock. Hughes’ debut solo effort as Boots Electric, Honkey Kong, takes that approach in an electro-pop direction, employing frequent Beastie Boys collaborator Money Mark on keyboards, and Beck producer Tony Hoffer in the control room. The songs—like “Complexity,” “You’ll be Sorry,” and “Boots Electric Theme”—employ cartoonish lyrics and 8-bit video game sound effects, often layered over garage-style drums. It’s party music, but only for a certain mood—think Ween coupled with the Flaming Lips, or Frank Zappa’s limited danceable output. Hughes’ version of a Southern gospel standard, “Swallowed by the Night,” shines with a slide guitar and countrified, three-part harmonies. But, unfortunately, the misses outnumber the hits on Honkey Kong. [DYLAN STABLEFORD]

peggy sue ACROBATS (YEP ROCK) U.K.-BASED TRIO Peggy Sue’s sophomore LP Acrobats packs plenty of darkness and grit in spite of the band’s whimsical retro name. As they did on their debut album (Fossils and Other Phantoms), singers Rosa Slade and Katy Young excavate haunting memories of troubled relationships through song with their smoky daydream vocals (think Cat Power). The opening track, “Cut my Teeth,” offers bittersweet lyrics over a deep, foreboding bass line. The slow, compelling “Shadows” features the refrain, “Come away from the window/I’m afraid of what you’ll see.” Yet as it grows in tempo, that heavy uncertainty dissipates. Acrobats shifts into cheerier warmth on “Parking Meter Blues”—the ladies sing in harmony over a chiming xylophone, but tension and anxiety return soon enough. The band’s use of two singers leads to a greater range in sound, with vocals that delve into darkness and, occasionally, the ethereal. [ADRIENNE URBANSKI] // BUST / 73

the bust guide


CHAIRLIFT Something (Columbia) Where are my socks? I think they got knocked off by Chairlift, an amazeballs male/female duo based in Brooklyn. Solid from start to finish, every song on their sophomore album Something is ultra-catchy with its own unique spin on ’80s-inspired drums, synth, and bass. “Amanaemonesia” (yes, you read that right) stuns with electricity and a tinge of the spooks. Was that a theremin I heard? God, please let it be. “Take it Out on Me” swells with hot and heavy lyrics combined with easy-listening ’80s synths. “Cool as a Fire” is more somber, with echoing piano and Caroline Polachek’s gorgeous broad vocal range. It’s like listening to an aria—so crystal clear, it hurts. After you experience Something, you still may wonder, “Why the name ‘Chairlift?’” It doesn’t seem to fit, but it doesn’t matter. Whatever they call themselves, I’m along for the ride. [WHITNEY DWIRE]

CLASS ACTRESS Rapprocher (Carpark) Since the release of last year’s Journal of Ardency EP, Brooklyn’s Class Actress has been generating tons of buzz for their infectious ’80s-inspired synthpop as well as frontwoman Elizabeth Harper’s velvet-smooth voice. For their debut album, Rapprocher, the band sticks to their synth-heavy, electric drum-thumping style, but turns up the volume on the disco beats. The group’s sound recalls ’80s faves like Tom Tom Club and the Human League, but the vocals have more in common with contemporaries Alison Goldfrapp and Glass Candy’s Ida No as Harper comfortably experiments with styles ranging from husky to high-pitch. “Bienvenue” and “All the Saints” are upbeat, poppy numbers, while “Let Me In” is a sexy, slow jam. Rapprocher is solid evidence that Class Actress has made good on the hype by delivering a fun, romantic album that ought to get invited to every party this fall. [ELIZA THOMPSON]

DAS RACIST Relax (Greedhead) Though Relax is technically Das Racist’s first full-length album, savvy hip-hop fans have been bumping to their goofy single “Combination Pizza Hut and Taco Bell” since 2008. Masters of absurdist rhymes, the trio—Suri, Vazquez, and hype man Kondabolu—keeps the crazy coming. Take, for example, their new track “Michael Jackson”: “I got an eagle talon/Call me Ritchie Valens/Me no speaky Spanish/Valium and Caesar salad.” But this isn’t just novelty rap. The group talks race, drugs, and selling out while making winking in-jokes about sitcoms and other pop culture detritus—even if their delivery is occasionally drowsy and sneering. Relax’s lighter, club-worthy dance hits “Girl” and “Booty in the Air,” find Suri and Vazquez flirting with the ladies. Even though Bollywood samples and electro hooks give this album staying power, in the end it’s the complexity of Das Racist’s po-mo lyrics that draw the audience. [MOLLY SIMMS]

DUM DUM GIRLS Only in Dreams (Sub Pop) I had hoped Dum Dum Girls’ second effort would at least live up to its genius predecessor, 2010’s I Will Be. Well, it doesn’t. Only in Dreams surpasses the band’s debut in its own brilliant, deeply personal way. Once again, the Girls employ Richard Gottehrer (the Go-Go’s, Blondie) as producer, now with help from the Raveonettes’ Sune Rose Wagner, to capture those Ronettes/Shangri-Las-inspired harmonies that blend beautifully with a fuzzed-out wall of sound. Sure, the band continues with its trademark sugar-sweet pop/garage-punk vibe, but Dee Dee’s lead vocals are now front and center. Opener “Always Looking” rocks right out of the gate revealing her tough as nails, yet ultrafeminine voice merging with Jules’ Poison Ivy-esque (the Cramps) lead guitar. Slower track “Hold Your Hand” is a heavy heartfelt standout as Dee Dee sings about the recent loss of her mom to a fatal illness. [MICHAEL LEVINE]


The best girl bands you’ve never heard of [BY EVERETT TRUE]

NO MAS BODAS No Mas Bodas is an all-female, beautifully elliptical, melodic collective from Austin, TX, that makes strange, rhythmic music. The sound is febrile, Dada-flecked, skittish, admonishing, and circular—yet always joyful. Voices trill and vibrate, but not in a cute way. Brass and string instruments add texture and counterpoint to analogue synthesizers. It’s like everyone grew up on a diet of skronk jazz, Krautrock imagination, Björk, and pure pop heart instead of fucking Coldplay.

THE NEW SOUND OF NUMBERS They don’t stand much on convention, they’re too busy being busy. The New Sound of Numbers hit a motorik groove, like Quickspace or Neu! or someone left-field like that, and stick with it until it no longer feels good. If they were from Australia they might sound like Love Of Diagrams. But they’re not. They’re from Athens, GA—home of Pylon and the B-52s, and a totally thriving DIY scene—and so, irretrievably, they sound like this.

Think: Danielle Dax, Effi Briest, Faust Can: 7.5 “Can’t”: 0

Think: Beaches, Tunabunny, the Raincoats Athens, GA: 10 Athens, Greece: 2

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SKINNY GIRL DIET This teenage-girl trio from London reminds me of Skinned Teen a little, but it would. Their music is wonderful: brash, unafraid, reared on old-school grunge. They’re riot grrrl, like I always understood it—female empowering, not scared to experiment with new musical forms, and not rooted. It’s exciting, impassioned, and raw. They have a Tumblr full of cat pictures and a vaguely menacing attitude. Of course they do.

KEEP ON DANCIN’S Brisbane represent. I love surf music, drawn out and languorous like Chris Isaak. I love the first Jesus and Mary Chain album—and, of course, hate everything that came after with a passion. I love that first, tentative Crocodiles recording. Anything with a fuzzy burr and ennuiladen female vocals is going to do it for me. Anything that makes me swoon for the days when I’d listen to the ShangriLas 65! album for hours on end.

Think: Babes In Toyland, Furious Pig, the Slits (very early) Heavens To Betsy: 9 “Heavens To Murgatroyd!”: 5

Think: Mazzy Star, Holly Golightly, Neverever Dale Cooper: 8 Alice Cooper: 1


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BUST MAGAZINE IS NOW AVAILABLE FOR YOUR IPAD! Download our FREE APP from the iTunes store to get access to our current and past issues. VISIT WWW.BUST.COM/APP // BUST / 75

the bust guide


FEIST Metals (Interscope/Polydor) It has been four years since Leslie Feist’s commercial takeover. And by commercial, we mean commercial—Apple ads set to her hit single “1234”; “My Moon, My Man” oozing over Verizon Wireless promos. The rest of 2007’s The Reminder was equally successful, earning the Canadian siren four Grammy nods and selling well over two million copies. If The Reminder was a collection of singles, Feist’s fourth studio album, Metals, is a collection of experiences about love. Opener “The Bad in Each Other” blends howls with soulful thuds, seeping into the melancholic “Graveyard.” The anxious beat on “A Commotion” is a stark contrast to Feist’s laid-back breathy vocals, making it one of the album’s standout tracks. While Metals may not put pop music in a choke hold like The Reminder, it still serves as a reminder that the Feist-y nymph makes one hell of a soundtrack to our lives. [KATHY IANDOLI]

GIRL IN A COMA Exits & All the Rest (Blackheart) Texas trio Girl In a Coma—singer Nina Diaz, drummer Phanie D, and bassist Jenn Alva—is still kicking butt with their fourth album, Exits & All the Rest, a comeback of sorts. Diaz’s signature vocals can still make even the most cold-hearted punk shed a tear, but you won’t find the tender, heartbreaking ballads that perfected their previous release, Trio B.C. Rather, Exits is a grand return to their rootsravenous riffs, dangerously alluring howls, and the occasional make-out track to get rebels without a cause hot and bothered. On Exits, Girl In a Coma continues to unite nostalgic beats, passionate lyrics of restlessness, and good ol’ fashioned rock ’n’ roll that’ll get you pogo-ing. “One-Eyed Fool” will put your saddle shoes to the test with its rockabilly spirit, guaranteed to get red-lipped vixens growling right along with Diaz. Delicate lullaby of doom “She Had a Plan” seems tame at first, but be prepared to be struck by frantic, 76 / BUST // OCT/NOV

thunderous guitars and blood-curdling cries that will take your breath away. By the time Girl In a Coma marches on with “Hope,” an anthem that reflects on the current Arizona immigration dispute, you’ll feel as if you’ve survived a war of angst and politics. Girl In a Coma’s Exits & All the Rest is no sleeper. Rather, it solidifies one fact we’ve known all along—this band is just warming up. [STEPHANIE NOLASCO]

GIRLS Father, Son, Holy Ghost (True Panther) San Francisco’s Girls blanket their dark, starkly personal lyrics with a summery pop sheen. It’s a formula—heartfelt, love-torn, West Coast pop, mixed with Beach Boys arrangements tinged with acid rock— that worked wonderfully on the male duo’s 2009 debut, Album. And it works even better on their sophomore follow-up Father, Son, Holy Ghost. On the shimmering “Magic,” frontman Christopher Owens—a former cult member—sings, “If there’s something I know/It’s that I’m still consumed/But it makes me feel better.” Then, on the doo-wop revival “Love, Like a River” Owens concludes, “No man can keep that girl from moving on.” But Girls occasionally drop the poppy pretense that pervades their sound. “Die” begins as pure, riff-heavy stoner rock before veering off into trippy, Pink Floyd territory, while “Just a Song” is laced with even more Dark Side of the Moon psychedelia. [DYLAN STABLEFORD]

HIGH PLACES Original Colors (Thrill Jockey) Welcome to the coolest travelogue ever. Built from oceanic melodies and jet-propulsive beats, this L.A.based duo’s latest album finds inspiration in the world at large: from desert to rain forest, concrete metropolis to shining sea. Original Colors is what might happen if you put Shudder To Think and We Love on a cargo ship and sent them ’round the globe. Sounds span from Balearic electro and bullet-train IDM (“Year Off,” “The Pull”) to seriously hazy dub and ambient (“Morning Ritual,” “Ahead Stop”), each overlaid

with Mary Pearson’s wide-eyed voice and equally wide-eyed sense of wonder. Pearson and partner Rob Barber are a well-traveled pair—they even photo-document their journeys online—but they manage to convey their love of new places without ever sounding weary. Each of Original Colors’ sun-hued harmonies and gravel road rhythms is like a fresh experience, some unfamiliar door to be opened. And oh, the places you’ll go. [MOLLIE WELLS]

KITTY, DAISY & LEWIS Smoking in Heaven (Verve/DH) This traveling band of three siblings comes from rich roots—specifically Ingrid Weiss, who is the trio’s mother and former drummer of the Raincoats. During live shows, Weiss and father/mastering genius Graeme Durham join the band, so the success of this album is not surprising. Smoking in Heaven is best when it is utilizing solid instrumentation, as on the opening track (my favorite), “Tomorrow.” Early in the album, remnants of the Skatalites and beat-up Hawaiian music cassettes you might find in Honolulu thrift stores are prominent. In fact, the band recorded everything sans computer or any digital equipment. And when Kitty and Daisy highlight tracks with their brand of Billie Holiday impressions, songs take on a more melancholy, swing-era essence that really holds up, perhaps because of their 8-track DIY recording. Smoking in Heaven sounds real, and it sounds good. [APRIL WOLFE]

M83 Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming (Mute) Snap that Members Only jacket up tight and brace yourself for some shivers. After a four-year hiatus, M83 (aka French musician Anthony Gonzalez) returns with double album Hurry Up, We’re Dreaming—a massive orchestral display of his wideeyed electro-shoegaze style. Opener “Intro” begins with M83’s trademark lady whispers about some fantasy land, then launches into Gonzalez’s crystal clear howl as streamers of synths twine around it. Enter drums,

tinkling bells, and then, holy shit, the pipes of operatic powerhouse Zola Jesus. The effect is mind-blowing. “Midnight City” is basically the soundtrack for a neon-soaked Miami Vice drive scene complete with synthesizedguitar and sax. Punch it, Tubbs. On “Raconte-Moi Une Histoire,” fingers snap as a child talks about licking a frog and, magically, “everything looks like a giant cupcake.” Proof that Gonzalez hasn’t lost his youthy “Saturday morning cartoons and Count Chocula” vibe. [JEN HAZEN]

MATES OF STATE Mountaintops (Barsuk) Brace yourselves, Maties. After three years of relative silence (save that killer Replacements cover featuring Todd Barry), the long-beloved duo is back, and better than ever. This follow-up to 2008’s ethereal Re-Arrange Us finds Mates of State at the pinnacle of fun: a 37-minute joy ride through summery sing-alongs, bouncy dance jams, and vocal harmonies that will make your heart race. Tracks like the epic opener “Palomino” and swaggering “Changes” channel the triumphant end of a John Hughes flick, while Missing Persons-esque tunes like “Total Serendipity” beg for a cherry red convertible with mega-loud speakers. And lest you think Kori Gardner and Jason Hammel have dived too far back into the quirk-pop pool, the wistful ambience of “Unless I’m Led” brings Mountaintops back to the couple’s more recent, chilled-out surface. These are seriously exuberant songs from a band that keeps getting better with time. [MOLLIE WELLS]

NEON INDIAN Era Extraña (Static Tongues/ Mom and Pop) The title of Neon Indian’s sophomore album, Era Extraña, literally means “strange era” or “she was weird,” depending on the context. Both translations suit the album perfectly—a heart-rending, shimmering glimpse at the end of someone’s world. For this LP, composer Alan Palomo traveled to Helsinki and holed himself up in an apartment to write 13 tracks

MUSIC of 8-bit sad-face shoegaze. “Fallout” is apocalpytic Cocteau Twins—gauzy synths layered with trippy, slow-drip effects that fizz over onto Palomo’s mumbling vocals. It’s so easy to see him hanging his head in defeat as he sings “Wish I could fall out...of love... with you.” On “Future Sick,” a haze of sci-fi dystopia collides with Commodore 64 blips and bleeps as Palomo robotically repeats the song’s title. Whether zombies, nuclear war, or the plague trigger doomsday, at least we’ll have a soundtrack as we sit alone in an underground shelter waiting for all hell to break loose. [JEN HAZEN]

SPANK ROCK Everything is Boring and Everyone is a Fucking Liar (Bad Blood)

Don’t expect the sweat party that was Spank Rock’s 2006 ass-clappin’ debut Yoyoyoyoyo. For his second official go around, Naeem Juwan (aka the voice behind Spank Rock) brings many more flavors to the table. “Nasty” features one of my fave live performers, Big Freedia, the Queen Diva of New Orleans bounce music. Once she commands ladies to start pussy poppin’, lips are sure to start flappin’. And all mixtapes from here on out should feature “Baby.” Seriously, hand me the liner notes. Is this Spank Rock or Prince? Talking Heads even get channeled for the final infectious track “Energy.” A taste of Spank’s original sound can still be heard on “Race Riot”—no surprise there since he’s been playing it live since 2006. That doesn’t make it dated though ’cause lines like “Shake it till my dick turns racist,” are timeless.

{heavy rotation}

All in all, Everything is Boring is anything but. [CALLIE WATTS]

TWIN SISTER In Heaven (Domino) Like the light patter of rain on an overcast day, or the sigh of a lover when you’re not sure if they’re awake, Twin Sister announce themselves in secretive, hushed ways, from the first sprinkling of “Daniel,” the opening track of In Heaven, to “Eastern Green.” These songs sound as though they’re wrapped in bed sheets or obscured behind dusty blinds. Shades of St. Etienne or even Sade (!) color the music, but it’s uniquely unsettling that the band is from loud, garish Long Island, NY. Ignorant of the publicity materials, one imagines them to be bookish kids from Sheffield, Oxford, Glasgow, or some other tucked away Arthurian realm. Songs like “Bad Street” are more than suitable for dancing, but the kind that takes place in one’s bedroom, with a maximum of two people involved. It’s intimacy rendered musically. [TOM FORGET]

WIDOWSPEAK Widowspeak (Captured Tracks)

ST. VINCENT Strange Mercy (4AD) I DON’T NEED to point out that St. Vincent, aka Annie Clark, is a genius. No, it’s not necessary to reiterate that she rips the guitar a new jackhole every time she picks it up, so I won’t. Her third album Strange Mercy is no exception. Opener “Chloe in the Afternoon” highlights Clark’s trademark experimentation with quirky sounds, rhythms, and time signatures. Throughout the album, guest musicians lay down the violin, clavinet, synthesizer, drums, and electric piano while Clark’s silky vocals, sultry lyrics, and freaknasty guitar-wielding ways bring home the bacon. The song titles alone are enough to make you climax—“Cheerleader,” “Northern Lights,” “Year of the Tiger.” I mean, come on. For those who enjoy St. Vincent’s more emotional tunes, you’ll love Strange Mercy. If you’ve never listened to St. Vincent, pull up a seat and hold on to your britches. [WHITNEY DWIRE]

It wasn’t so long ago that just about every band hailing from the borough of Brooklyn was posturing to be the next Jesus and Mary Chain either by accident or by unabashed homage. So, it only makes sense that the latest crop of young crooners is taking a “lite”-er approach to things. Widowspeak is one of them with their Morricone-esque interpretation of fair-trade coffee house rock. Instead of invoking the fuzzed-out attitude of Mary Chain’s Reid brothers, singer/songwriter Molly Hamilton’s sweet, breathy vocals capture the sound of the brothers’ little sis’, Linda Reid (Sister Vanilla). There’s also a hint of Mendoza Line’s Shannon McArdle’s warm, clear voice during Hamilton’s more organic moments. Just listen to “Harsh Realm.” Hamilton’s pipes combine with Robert Earl Thomas’ surf guitar to create a hazy mirage of sound that can entice even the most jaded and sonically quenched listener. [PETER WENKER]

HINDI ZAHRA Handmade (Naïve) Très français! Such is the essence of Handmade, the debut album from Moroccan-born/Paris-based singer/ songwriter Hindi Zahra. With its slow rhythms and cool harmonies, it would be easy to call this a jazz album. And the LP truly is DIY—Zahra produced and arranged it completely on her own. What’s particularly unique is how the songstress intricately weaves together exotic melodies that pay homage to her roots via occasional lyrics in Berber (a dialect of her native Morocco). The first few notes plucked on the ballad “Beautiful Tango,” are quaint and charming—almost like you’re relaxing on a boat floating down the Seine. “Music,” one of two more upbeat tracks, is a rock-infused tune with pulsing drums and tambourine that rhythmically ride alongside Zahra’s sassy vocals. It’s a little Grace Potter, a bit more Norah Jones, but in the end it’s all Hindi Zahra. [LARA STREYLE]

ZOLA JESUS Conatus (Sacred Bones) Nika Roza Danilova has said that anxiety stopped her from pursuing a career in opera after a decade of study, but as Zola Jesus, she seems to have found the perfect outlet for her otherworldly (and highly trained) voice. On Conatus, her third full-length album, Danilova has upped the production values and added lush orchestration to her spare, gothic tunes. First single “Vessel” sounds like a low-key industrial song full of creepy techno effects until the operatic chorus kicks in and Danilova lets it fly; Siouxsie Sioux would be proud. But the singer isn’t afraid to explore her (slightly) lighter side. “Seekir” is an outright dance number, albeit one that finds her asking “Is there nothing left of this mess we made?” Gloomy, goth-tinged electronica doesn’t sound like the most appealing genre, but Zola Jesus’ mix of dark jams and dazzling ballads is super listenable and full of surprises. [ELIZA THOMPSON] // BUST / 77


Even if home has changed? There’s no doubt that economics have changed downtown Manhattan—its underground, its scene. The [world] Blondie came out of couldn’t last. But I still live in New York. There are things that keep me there—friends and art. It’s a wonderful city. Is it true you wrote “Mother,” the first single off Panic of Girls, about the now-closed N.Y.C. drag queen and nightlife royalty hotspot? “Mother” is about the club on West 14th Street. I wrote it as a tribute. I really wish Mother was still there. You’ve always written songs for Blondie… Lyrics have always been important to me. You wrote the rap for Blondie’s 1981 hit “Rapture,” which became the first number-one song in America to feature rap. How’d you get into the rap game? And do you still follow it? Rap was hip-hop then. Some of us met Fab Five Freddy in New York and talked and [became friends]. We did “Rapture” after that. “Rapture” wasn’t really rap; it was an homage. I wouldn’t say that I follow rap and hip-hop now, but I still listen to them. What was the first album you ever bought? Let’s see, I’m sure it was a jazz album, oddly enough. Mine was No Doubt’s Tragic Kingdom. Gwen Stefani was a bleach-blond girl rock hero of mine, and I think she owes a lot to you. I love Gwen. I adore Gwen.

a harry situation THE BRAIN BEHIND BLONDIE IS BACK IN ACTION AS THE FRONTWOMAN for seminal punk-pop band Blondie, which got its start in 1974, Deborah Harry has always been way ahead of the curve. She had hip bangs before you did, harnessed the power of peroxide prior to Madonna, was the rock star fronting an all-boy band when Gwen Stefani was just a kid, and turned her own fame into performance art in the age of Warhol—long before the era of Gaga. Since breaking out of the fertile underground scene in downtown N.Y.C. over 30 years ago, Blondie has produced countless hits (including “Heart of Glass” and “The Tide is High”), weathered that rocky place between “punk” and “successful,” and has still managed to hang on to genuine cool. After eight years, the band is back with their ninth studio album, Panic of Girls, and at 66, Harry is criss-crossing the globe on Blondie’s European and U.S. tour. From a basement dressing room in Amsterdam, Deborah Harry talked to me about songwriting, rapping, and being in control. How is your European Panic of Girls tour going? What is your audience like? It’s going well, thank you. Our audience is a Blondie audience, and we have been playing a lot of shows at festivals, so it’s been a party-down crowd. Blondie was born in New York, and came to represent the downtown scene. But you guys had your first major successes overseas and you’ve been touring internationally for 30 years. Do you still feel like a New York band? Well, there’s no place like home. 78 / BUST // OCT/NOV

With Blondie you created this incredible frontwoman who inspired a lot of artists and a lot of imitators. But I’ve heard you talk about that persona as a character, like she was separate from yourself. Has your relationship to that character changed or evolved since you started out? Yes, actually. It doesn’t feel so separate any more. I think that my persona and my personality have blended together more now. You were almost 30 when Blondie hit it big. Did being mature, or “ready,” contribute to the band’s longevity? Maturity all depends on the person, doesn’t it? I guess I was in my 20s when I decided to pursue music. I was 27 when we started Blondie. Some people mature very quickly. And some people are very immature in their late 20s. Some people are immature their whole lives, aren’t they? So what does it take to keep an artistic endeavor going for three decades? It starts with an obsession. Blondie was an obsession, and we built off of that. I think one thing women admire about you, or respond to, is that you’ve seemed so in control the whole time. [laughs] You can write down that I am laughing. Why are you laughing? Because who ever has control of her own life, really? [PHOEBE MAGEE] PHOTOGRAPHED BY F. SCOTT SCHAFER

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MOVIES Juno Temple

Alessandro Nivola and Abigail Breslin

JANIE JONES Written and directed by David M. Rosenthal (Tribeca Enterprises)

DIRTY GIRL Written and directed by Abe Sylvia (The Weinstein Company) In this quirky coming-of-age story, Danielle (Juno Temple) is the self-proclaimed “class whore” of Norman High School in Norman, OK, circa 1987. She’s a pretty typical angsty teenager who fights with her mother, idolizes Joan Jett, and fosters a deep longing to find the father she’s never met. But Danielle is also a unique character among teenage girls in contemporary films— she’s both sexy and sexually confident. The film opens with her commentary on other high school girls, who, she says, “don’t realize they’re the ones with all the power.” We then see our protagonist stepping out of a car she appears to have just had sex in before heading to class, where she proceeds to interrupt her abstinence-only sex ed teacher with a question about the pullout method. This leads to a trip to the principal’s office where she’s told, “No one likes a dirty girl.” Danielle’s classmate Clarke (Jeremy Dozier) has his own problems. Obese, friendless, and gay, he can usually be found cowering in corners with his hood covering his face. And at home, Clarke’s violently homophobic father forces him to attend therapy sessions in hopes of making him straight. When Danielle’s punishment leads to a fateful partnership with Clarke—the two are forced to complete one of those bizarre parenting projects where they have to take care of a bag of flour—an unlikely friendship begins. They run away from home, and embark on an adventure filled with hilarious and profound moments. Along the way, Danielle helps Clarke embrace his identity, and Clarke in turn helps Danielle realize a dream of her own. Set to a fantastic riot grrrl soundtrack, this story of a non-traditional family will melt even the coldest of hearts. [ARIANA ANDERSON] 80 / BUST // OCT/NOV

Little Miss Sunshine is growing up! In this family drama, the adept and adorable Abigail Breslin plays 13-year-old Janie Jones, the daughter of a meth-addicted mom (Elizabeth Shue) who takes her to meet her rock star father Ethan for the first time while he’s in the middle of a tumultuous tour. Ethan (Alessandro Nivola) isn’t exactly clean and sober himself, nor is he excited to learn about his

Chloë Grace Moretz

TEXAS KILLING FIELDS Directed by Ami Canaan Mann (Anchor Bay Films) Ami Canaan Mann knows a thing or two about crime thrillers: she began her career as a second unit director on her father Michael Mann’s classic cop drama Heat, and logged some hours as a writer for the TV shows NYPD Blue and Robbery Homicide Division. In her second feature film, Texas Killing Fields, Mann proves that she, too, has a stamp to put on the

paternity. But when Janie’s mom bolts for rehab during Ethan’s concert, leaving Janie there to fend for herself, he’s forced to take her on board the tour bus and attempt to parent her amidst the band’s melodrama. Stuck in privileged post-adolescence, Ethan has a lot to learn, and Janie, mature for her years, has much to give. Turns out our heroine is a blossoming musician herself, and she and Ethan slowly get to know each other through the songs that they play and sing, alone and then together. Sure, there are a couple of predictable moments in both plot and dialogue as father and daughter grow closer on the road, and the occasional product placement and reference to Miley Cyrus might make some in the audience cringe. But Breslin and Nivola are fine actors who bring to Janie and Ethan a captivating vulnerability and humanity, not to mention a collection of lovely harmonies. Janie Jones is a good flick for the youngster in your life who’s taking up guitar lessons, or who might be thinking about it. [ANNA BEAN]

family business. Inspired by a series of unsolved murders in rural Texas, the film focuses on two officers (Jeffrey Dean Morgan and Sam Worthington) working to catch a serial killer who leaves his victims in a vast stretch of land known as the “killing fields.” When another body surfaces outside of their jurisdiction, they enlist the help of a female cop (Jessica Chastain) to help them in their search. Chloë Grace Moretz also stars as Anne, a troubled preteen who may be able to lead them to the murderer. With such an impressive roster of actors in the cast, it’s no surprise that each character delivers intense dialogue and suspenseful action. Jessica Chastain (who was wonderful in The Tree of Life) broadens her range as a brassy, determined police officer, a role that should further propel her to “next big thing” status. And as usual, Moretz shows off talent beyond her years. Texas Killing Fields does lack some of the plot twists that are standard in most contemporary thrillers. The identity of the murderer is never really a mystery, and Mann spends a little too much time on a red herring that never quite pays off. But despite these flaws, the movie is a moody, satisfying drama that makes Mann’s future as a director look extremely promising. [ELIZA THOMPSON]


the guide

the guide



F’EM!: Goo Goo, Gaga, and Some Thoughts on Balls BY JENNIFER BAUMGARDNER (SEAL PRESS) THE CO-AUTHOR OF Manifesta, which is widely considered the bible of third wave feminism, takes inventory of the current state of what feminism is, what it has been, and where it’s going. F’em collects the best of Baumgardner’s essays—about purity balls, reproductive rights, and “lesbians after marriage” (wherein women act on their homosexual attraction post-divorce), as well as reflections on her own experiences with aging, sexual identity, and motherhood. But this is not just her greatest hits. To provide a diversity of opinions, Baumgardner conducts interviews with other leading feminists, such as Kathleen Hanna, Loretta Ross, Ani DiFranco, and our own BUST editor-in-chief, Debbie Stoller. These women discuss not only their experiences in the movement, but also what they think the future of feminism may be. Their views vary: some argue that the third wave isn’t over, while others think that there’s been a reversion to second wave values. Baumgardner, however, suggests in her concluding essay that a fourth wave started around 2008. Though continuing much of what the third wave had begun, this latest wave is shaped and characterized by online media, which has made feminism even more accessible and diverse, and concerns itself primarily with transgenderism, male feminists, and sex work. The fresh, provocative collection is designed to provide the reader with a comprehensive summary of feminism’s evolution and current state, and may even inspire you to get active on the fourth-wave’s frontier—the blogosphere. [ARIANA ANDERSON]

EMBROIDER EVERYTHING WORKSHOP: The Beginner’s Guide to Embroidery, Cross-Stitch, Needlepoint, Beadwork, Appliqué, and More By Diana Rupp (Workman) Finally, an embroidery handbook that’s as awesome as the projects you want to make! Embroider Everything Workshop guides newbies through the processes of embroidery, needlework, cross-stitch, appliqué, sashiko, smocking, and more, all of which can be used to begin new projects or, best of all, spruce up old clothing and accessories. Veteran crafter Rupp—who owns and manages New York City’s Make Workshop and previously wrote Sew Everything Workshop— outlines the supplies needed to start (needles, thimbles, hoops,

embroidery thread), and provides step-by-step instructions for creating various types of stitches, both simple and complex. Interspersed with useful tips and a generous number of color images, the book showcases 40 designs and 50 transfer patterns that will make you want to start stitching immediately. Some of the more exciting projects include “Art of Conversation Pillows” (inspired by those silhouette portraits cut from black paper in Jane Austen’s time), a sassy Days-of-the-Week underwear set, antique-looking tea towels and luggage tags, embroidered pet portraits, and an adorable book about colors for babies, complete with embroidered frogs, foxes, and squirrels. For anyone who has ever gazed longingly at a craft shop’s embroidery section (but shuddered at their collection of weird teddybear patterns), this stylish book is exactly what you’ve been waiting for. [ANTONIA BLAIR]

FALLING FOR ME: How I Hung Curtains, Learned to Cook, Traveled to Seville, and Fell in Love By Anna David (Harper Paperbacks) After having her heart broken by a married man, author Anna David decided that what she needed was a kind of Eat, Pray, Love transformation—complete with a happily-everafter ending of her own. Looking for guidance in the self-help section, the bright pink cover and the opening words of Helen Gurley Brown’s 1962 seminal guide, Sex and the Single Girl, caught David’s eye. “I married for the first time at 37. I got the man I wanted,” Brown’s first lines proudly read, and David is sold by her nevertoo-late attitude. She embarks on a journey to follow Brown’s controversial-turned-retro single’s guide by doing the things Brown says a man wants: she learns how to cook, creates a nice apartment, and works on

being spontaneous. David bills herself as a former party girl with a drug-filled past, so you would think she might offer a perspective different from a Bridget Jones or Carrie Bradshaw, but, sadly, David’s entire reason for questing is to find a man. In the end, David decides it’s worthwhile to dress up and cook for the most important person in her life—herself—but her tone seems forced and the reader can’t help but feel that the real reason she’s making any changes at all is to nab that elusive relationship. Falling for Me is less like Eat, Pray, Love and more of an excessively detailed, and ultimately exhausting, manhunt. [KRISTINA URIEGAS-REYES]

THE GIRL WITH THREE LEGS: A Memoir Soraya Miré (Lawrence Hill) As the child of a top Somali general in the 1960s, Soraya Miré grew // BUST / 81

the guide


up spying on her family, trying to make sense of the oppressively secretive atmosphere and to comprehend the complicated web of bribery, adultery, sexual hypocrisy, and drugs that encircled her clan. Yet none of her research revealed the two most important secrets her parents kept from her until it was too late: first, the female genital mutilation (FGM) that her mother forced her to undergo at the age of 13 to make her a proper Somali bride, and second, her arranged marriage to an older, abusive first cousin in return for a dowry. These traumatic events marked Miré’s psyche and informed the direction of her eventual career as a documentary filmmaker and activist for African girls’ and women’s rights. In this harrowing yet inspiring memoir she recounts the horror of being strapped to a table as people in white coats sheared off her labia and clitoris— or “third leg”—and stitched her vaginal opening shut, in a painful and debilitating custom intended to secure her virginity. Subsequent sexual assaults exacerbated Miré’s anguish and drove her into depression and disordered eating, for which she successfully sought help in the forms of acupuncture, counseling, and Native American healing. On finding herself, Miré, whose film about FGM, Fire Eyes, won a U.N. Human Rights award, writes, “I am a woman who is not defined by what has been taken from me but by what I create with what I have.” [RENATE ROBERTSON]

the lethargic Ruth changes jobs, makes friends, takes lovers, and begins to despise them all. Her deep depression and hatred of her own femininity will, of course, bring up comparisons to The Bell Jar. There’s no denying the similarities—Plath’s Esther and Zambreno’s Ruth are inwardly tortured, deflating rapidly in cities where most people find themselves revived (Zambreno’s choice of city may be another nod to her literary heritage, as it’s reminiscent of Mrs. Dalloway’s exhilarating and oppressing London). Both Ruth and Esther have disdain for their femininity and the attention they get from the world when they participate in it, but Green Girl still feels fresh. We can thank the author’s unique voice for this, but it is also due in part to the present day setting, which puts forth an interesting question: What happens to women after they’ve been supposedly liberated? Will they make a fresh start and redefine what it means to be a woman, or will they cling to what is familiar, no matter how much it hurts them? Zambreno’s answer is heartbreaking, but as Ruth complains about her co-workers, obsesses over fashion, and finds comfort in Friends reruns, you’ll find yourself oddly amused by this poignant and thoughtful read. [MOLLY LABELL]

GREEN GIRL Kate Zambreno (Emergency Press)

By the time Patricia Bosworth (Marlon Brando, Diane Arbus) decided to write a biography of Jane Fonda, nine biographers had already preceded her—all of them men. “I’m glad a woman is writing about me,” Fonda told Bosworth. It doesn’t hurt that the two have long been friends, having studied together at the Actors Studio in the ’60s. Bosworth’s thorough book takes us through the different stages of Fonda’s life via aptly titled parts, such as “Daughter: 1937 – 1958,” “Movie Star/Sex Symbol: 1963 – 1970” and “Workout Guru/Tycoon Wife: 1988 – 2000.” Here, you’ll read new sto-

The green girl of Kate Zambreno’s novel is Ruth, a 20-something Chicagoan frighteningly adrift in London. A God-like figure is the narrator here, both nurturing toward and sickened by the delicate girl she claims to have made. We follow both creator and creation through the novel’s poetic vignettes—to call them chapters would be a disservice to Zambreno’s wonderfully fluid stream of consciousness—as 82 / BUST // OCT/NOV

JANE FONDA: The Private Life of a Public Woman By Patricia Bosworth (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt)

ries not found in other biographies, about the ever-reinventing-herself Jane; her famous father, Henry; her siblings; her children; and most importantly her mother, Frances, who tragically committed suicide when Fonda was only 12 years old. This is one event Fonda couldn’t discuss with Bosworth—or anyone, save her stepmother, Susan. “Jane told Susan she had never been able to cry, and that she’d learned about the suicide from a magazine,” writes Bosworth. The only problem with this biography, thick as it is, is that it never really gets as close to Fonda as one would like, even though it’s written by a friend. Perhaps it’s because of Bosworth’s friendship with her that Fonda doesn’t really ever “go there,” balls to the wall. Regardless, I tore through the book from cover to cover in record time, considering its dictionary-like page count. Bosworth’s storytelling is riveting; it will leave you utterly fascinated and wanting more. [WHITNEY DWIRE]

THE LAST OF THE LIVE NUDE GIRLS: A Memoir By Sheila McClear (Soft Skull Press) If peep-show girls in Times Square at the start of the 21st century were rare, then even rarer were peep-show girls who were commuting to their shifts from internships at the Columbia Journalism Review. This is just what Sheila McClear found herself doing after moving to New York in 2006 and discovering that a $125 a week costuming job at the Classical Theatre of Harlem wouldn’t cut it—and that few Manhattan establishments would hire untested waitresses. It takes a deft hand to write a decidedly unsexy book about the sex trade (save for a few stories about kinky customer requests, it’s pretty PG), but McClear chronicles her year-plus stint on the shady side of Eighth Avenue with an anthropologist’s eye and a journalist’s ear. (Postpeep show, she wrote for Gawker, and now for the New York Post.) Though the disconnected vignettes sometimes feel like they’re bumping up against each other like anony-

mous commuters in Port Authority, McClear’s depiction of her dancing peers (reformed party girl Raven, star Katrina, lovelorn Ruby) paints a vibrant and sympathetic portrait of a dying world—a place so filthy McClear would disinfect her tips before letting the bills enter her wallet. Despite the obvious charges of “playing poor” in the big city (there’s only so much pity you can have for a daughter of two lawyers squatting in “various ill-heated apartments” when her blanket is her grandmother’s mink coat), McClear—introverted and insecure—is an incredibly compelling character. The disrobing she does through her memoir is of an entirely different sort—and it’s a show well worth the price of a paperback. [IRIS BLASI]

LIVING DOLLS: The Return of Sexism By Natasha Walter (Virago) In her first book, 1999’s The New Feminism, British writer Natasha Walter posited that even if women lacked professional and political equality, they at least had accomplished it in their personal lives. “I am ready to admit that I was wrong,” she now writes in Living Dolls. In this cultural study, Walter argues that the porn and sex industry’s migration from the fringes of culture to the mainstream has led to the increased sexualization and objectification of both girls and women (one example she cites: British retailer Tesco’s toy stripper pole for children). Drawing on both scientific research and original interviews, Walter argues that this cultural shift is in part due to the false appropriation of feminist values of sexual liberation and empowerment; young girls and women often believe that in order to be liberated they must be overly promiscuous, embrace sex work, and disconnect emotion and meaning from sex. One prostitute told Walter that she entered the line of work because she thought it would be “empowering,” and several high school and college-age girls proudly list their

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the guide


conquests, writing off emotions as leading to the pitfalls of their mothers. Walter concludes that while women were once kept from finding sexual fulfillment, they are now in “a cage in which repression of emotions takes the place of repression of physical needs.” It’s observations like this that make Living Dolls a compelling and convincing analysis, and an essential read for any feminist. [ADRIENNE URBANSKI]

MARZI By Marzena Sowa, illustrated by Sylvain Savoia (Vertigo) Even those of us who didn’t spend our girlhood behind the Iron Curtain can relate to the young star of this graphic-novel memoir set in 1980s Poland. Through prose and illustrations that can only be described as delightful, we share in Marzi’s enjoyment of toothpaste eating, her longing for a Barbie, and her fear that God is watching when she’s on the toilet. At the same time, we learn about life in her communist-ruled country, where said toys and toothpaste are pricey imports, toilet paper (not to mention food) is rationed, and a higher power of another sort is also watching. As political tension in Poland builds, so does stress among the adults around Marzi, including her factory-worker father, who participates in the labor strikes that are significant in the anti-communist movement. When Marzi asks about what’s happening, she’s told that these are adult matters, leading her to exclaim, “But I’m a human being…I have a right to know! I don’t want to be little anymore!” But of course, it’s her smallness that makes this book so engaging: in the middle of describing the importance of mass, she notes how funny it is looking up the nostrils of the congregation; and in the midst of a citywide protest, she muses about how she’d never have to finish her eggs at home again if she had a crowd like this behind her. Marzi’s 84 / BUST // OCT/NOV

innocence is underscored by the cartoon-like art—she is literally cherub-faced—and the interplay between her wide-eyed point of view and the eye-opening historical details makes Marzi completely satisfying. [PAULA SEVENBERGEN]

SYBIL EXPOSED: The Extraordinary Story Behind the Famous Multiple Personality Case By Debbie Nathan (Free Press) In the 1980s, award-winning journalist Debbie Nathan was covering the witch-hunt for daycare workers who were being accused of ritual child abuse, when she was reminded of a disturbing case that had obsessed the country a dozen years earlier. Sybil, the bestselling book and hit TV movie, portrayed a young woman from a repressed, fundamentalist upbringing who split into 16 personalities to cope with her mother’s sadistic sexual abuse. Sybil’s story, as told to her doctor/ savior Dr. Wilbur, was now being echoed in the “recovered memories” elicited from daycare children by well-meaning investigators. Digging into the story behind Sybil, Nathan discovered the girl’s true identity and then, through careful research, uncovered an almost more awful history than the one told in the book: that of two ambitious women and the fragile, dependent girl who relinquished control of her adult life, and the fable they all built together. In Sybil Exposed, Nathan tells the tale of how and why author Flora Schreiber, doctor Cornelia Wilbur, and patient Shirley Mason stretched the truth and made unethical choices to create the bestselling tale of Multiple Personality Disorder. The end result of their complicity was that MPD, an extremely rare disorder, became a common diagnosis— primarily in young women. This mania took root, Nathan proposes, because it reflected the internal conflict of women in the ’70s about old expectations and new roles available to them; her book is a rivet-

WE SURE CAN! How Jams and Pickles are Reviving the Lure and Lore of Local Food

ing document of how this sense of fragmentation was pathologized both in one woman and worldwide. [ FRAN WILLING]

THE TASTE OF SALT By Martha Southgate (Algonquin Books) This novel tells the story of Josephine Baker. No, a different one—here, Josie is a marine biologist adrift in her own life. She’s sister and daughter to alcoholic, absent, and unreliable men, and in distancing herself from them and her childhood, she has moved from Cleveland to Massachusetts and married the exact opposite of her father and brother. In her workplace, she stands out: in a sea of white men, Josie is neither, and was once even mistaken by a colleague for a housekeeper. She is no-nonsense, but all her efforts toward staying measured are ruptured after her mother requests that she come to Cleveland to pick up her brother, Tick, from his second stint in rehab. Having carefully defined herself by how she is unlike the people in her family, things start unraveling when Josie returns to Massachusetts, to a husband hoping for a baby she’s ambivalent about, and a new scientist starting at her agency who’s also black, as well as handsome and smart, which creates an instant, if complicated, alikeness and bond between the two. Like Josie, this strong novel holds much at arms’ length, but despite the cool remoteness, a steady undercurrent of raw, complex emotions keeps the pages turning. Though the story is told mostly through Josie’s first person narration, occasional chapters are taken over by the other members of her family, including a few instances where Josie becomes somehow omniscient. This is infrequent enough to be more distractingly gimmicky than an illuminating trick, especially when Josie’s voice elsewhere is utterly compelling— so steady and unflinching even when circumstances in her life start tumbling from her careful control. [ CHRISTINE FEMIA]

By Sarah B. Hood (Arsenal Pulp Press) Canning isn’t just for grandmothers anymore, as anyone can tell by the plethora of blogs devoted to putting up. With We Sure Can!, Toronto-based food writer Sarah B. Hood has collected recipes from those blogs, including her own. The book is full of a wide range of recipes for compotes, conserves, and preserves, as well as jam, chutney, and pickle recipes that range from basic to complexly flavored creations. Despite the book’s multiple authors, the instructions provided here are consistent, and readers are encouraged to experiment with different jamming techniques like using naturally occurring fruit pectin, liquid pectin, or no-sugar pectin—but that doesn’t mean this guide is beginner-friendly. I attempted Hood’s masala chai tea jelly, an intriguing recipe that turned out sweet, spicy, and perfect as an ice cream topping. I also tried her vanilla blueberry jam, a simple spread, but one that required too much boiling, resulting in a slightly overcooked jam. Unfortunately with that one, the instructions weren’t comprehensive enough for a novice canner like me, so when I ran into problems, the book didn’t offer great solutions for troubleshooting. The meandering introduction directs canners to many valuable resources and contextualizes the current canning scene in North America. Visually, I wish the photographs in the book had been originals, but most images are credited to various blogs and websites. In many cases, curious canners can simply visit the blogs of contributing authors for recipes, but the book is a nicely curated collection—at least for those who already, well, can. [GRACE EVANS]

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sex files


Can using a Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator a lot (a few times a day for several years) lead to decreased sensitivity or nerve damage to my vulva? Fearing a Buzzkill


This is an odd question, but I was wondering what causes fatty labia? My labia are very large and fatty and it’s always bugged me. Recently I did some research on the subject, but most things I read pointed to obesity, and I’m not that big of a girl. I once heard it can be caused by a hormonal imbalance. Is that true? If so, how do I put my body into balance? Got a Fat Lip



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I haven’t seen a photo of your labia, so I don’t know how to evaluate your concern that they’re fatty, or bigger than average. I can tell you that there naturally exists a wide range of labia sizes and thicknesses, especially concerning the inner labia (which used to be termed labia minora, or smaller labia, only confounding the problem for women whose inners were larger than their outers). I don’t like the term “normal” when applied to sexuality—since it’s a source of self-esteem issues and worry for so many people—but please believe me when I tell you that it is very normal to have large labia. Many women do. And I have no information that suggests a hormone imbalance (or even difference) is specifically related to this. If you can, get your hands on Joani Blank’s book Femalia (recently reprinted by Last Gasp Publishing). The book consists of dozens of vulva photos, with many variations of labia, in all their glory. If you haven’t asked your gynecologist whether she or he thinks your labia are unusually large, you could do so—gynos see a lot of ’em—but another very trustworthy source of guidance is the fabulous Dr. Betty Dodson, on whose website ( you’ll find much discussion of this issue plus images showing the wonderful range of variation in our nether regions. Whatever you do, don’t decide that because you don’t have porny-looking labia, there’s something wrong with you. Remember, labia are packed with nerve endings that help bring you pleasure, so respect your lady parts!

Carol Queen is a staff sexologist at Good Vibrations. Got a sex or relationship question you need answered? Post it at


Those Hitachis really do last! There are two concerns people have about vibe use and loss of sensitivity. One is that after a hard-charging buzz session, the vulva can feel a little numb. But putting any persistent pressure on the body can lead to a temporary numb spot; the nerves take a little nap, like when your foot or hand falls asleep. Similarly, numbness resulting from a vibrator will fade after the pressure stops. Interestingly, the nerves that feel and carry vibrational messages to the brain are specialized, which means that they don’t numb—even if one’s labia have lost sensitivity, a vibrator can still induce orgasm. Nerves can be damaged by a hit to the pubis, so try to protect yourself from this sort of thing. Ordinary or even extra-enthusiastic vibe use, however, causes no damage at all, thankfully. Folks’ second concern is that many women appear to be much more capable of coming with a vibrator than with a human companion, leading to fears that more subtle sensation has been lost. But lots of women discover orgasm with a vibrator, and the neural pathways from the clitoris to the brain establish themselves in response to repeated experience, just like when you learn to throw a softball or knit. Try to throw a ball (or masturbate) with the other hand, and the brain takes a while to catch up. Partner sex doesn’t involve vibrations, so the sensations are less familiar and response is slower. In addition, having sex with other people is fabulous, but also distracting, and solo sex, especially with a vibrator, is efficient. The good news is that it’s perfectly possible to learn to respond strongly to another person—just don’t imagine it’s going to feel the same, and sometimes it takes a while to change your supposition of what erotic sensation should feel like.

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slippery when wet ROOMMATES GET IT ON WHEN A BUBBLE BATH IS DRAWN WITH A BUBBLE bath waiting, I assembled all the necessary implements to soothe my bad mood: candles, a sexy playlist, and, of course, my faithful waterproof vibrator. My roommate Lucy was working at her family’s bakery, so I was alone, finally. I dimmed the bathroom lights, lit the candles, tapped play on my iPod, and sunk into the hot bubbles with an audible sigh of delight. I ran my hand across my belly, trailing down to my bare vulva. With gentle, playful strokes, my fingers traced my labia as my free hand traveled to my buoyant breasts. I pinched each nipple between my fingers, a shivery whimper escaping my parted lips. I deepened the pressure of my hand, and my fingers sought out my bulging clit. Massaging my wet breasts, I buckled my knees as my sensitive nub sent ripples of desire through my thighs and belly. I reached for my vibrator and slipped it effortlessly inside my opening. I began to pump with a steady rhythm, my pussy gripping desperately at each exit. I moaned in eager expectation of my achingly close orgasm, my eyes fluttered in ecstasy—and I caught sight of my roommate in the doorway. I froze, my cheeks reddening. “Oh, my God. I thought you were working tonight….” Lucy’s eyes scanned my body, resting on the very noticeable vibrator between my legs. “Don’t stop on account of me,” she said with a grin. I raised my eyebrows, too startled to reply. And too hopeful to ask her to repeat herself. I’d always been envious of Lucy’s body: her large breasts, always peeking from the top of her tight tank tops; her round ass rocking mockingly through her jeans. My clit twitched at the thought, and I watched as Lucy stripped off her shirt and pants, sliding her black thong to her ankles. She was shaven save for a cute strip of red hair. She unhooked her bra and released her breasts: full with pink, ready nipples. I sat up, astonished, and my knees parted reflexively as she descended into the water. She licked her lips devilishly and leaned forward, locking her round mouth onto one of

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my puckered nipples, tugging cruelly with her tongue. I moaned, leaning back, and reached for Lucy’s smooth vulva. She gasped, releasing her mouth from my tortured breasts, arching her back as I stroked the heart shape of her lips tenderly. Lucy pushed into my touch, kneading at my tender nipples. Then, grinning, she positioned herself above my hips. I spread my thighs apart, and she sank onto me, locking her pussy against mine. I grasped her nipples between my fingers, stroking and flicking the tips. As Lucy’s moans began to echo mine, she rocked back and forth on top of me. Her clit found mine, and expertly, Lucy circled her hips, rubbing them firmly together. A wonderfully familiar sensation of ascending pleasure captured me, my cries growing longer and higher. “Oh, God….” My orgasm quaked my entire body, and with the urging of my violent trembling, Lucy came with me, bouncing her pussy ruthlessly against mine. Wave after wave of crushing pleasure traveled my body. Our breath returning, we looked at each other, still ravenous. “Turn around, “ I said. “Get on your knees.” Lucy giggled and kneeled against the tiled wall, tilting her round ass up. “I didn’t know you were so bossy.” I positioned myself behind her and smacked her slippery ass impishly, making her yelp. “Then it’s about time we got to know each other better,” I said against her ear, licking her lobe with the tip of my tongue. She gasped and draped her neck against my shoulder, looking back at me with wanton eyes. Her hair smelled like warm bread and sugar, making me want her even more. Our mouths met and we kissed, tongues wrestling with unrestrained fervor. I grabbed the vibrator and surreptitiously brought it between Lucy’s thighs. Teasingly, I rubbed the toy between her lips. She moaned, pushing

against the vibrator impatiently. I flipped on the switch and found her clit, which was still rigid. Lucy braced her hands against the wall as I slid the toy leisurely from her clit to her vulva. In one smooth, steady motion, I pushed the vibrator deep inside her. Wild with animal desire, Lucy bucked savagely against me, her reverberating cries rousing my own exclamations of hunger. I fucked her greedily, my nipples traveling up and down the soft skin of her back with each frantic thrust, pushing me closer to a second climax. I trapped her clit between my fingers, massaging firmly, until her whispers escalated to a shout. Lucy came against my hand, her clit pulsating as she reared up, breasts shuddering in euphoria. I smiled proudly, despite the insistent pangs of my suspended climax. Lucy stood and lifted the drain cover from the bathtub. Extending a hand, she helped me to my feet. Slowly, she licked the outline of my lips as her fingers trailed down the chilled skin of my damp back. Once the water reached our ankles, she switched on the shower. I pulled her back to me playfully, tracing the curve of her sloping waist. Lucy kissed along my breasts and belly, resting in a kneeling position before me. She licked the crevice between my lips, gliding her tongue along my warmed pussy. Sliding me open with her fingers, her tongue rose to my engorged clit. With her free hand, she plunged two fingers inside me, her tongue working assiduously. I gasped as she grazed my G-spot in time with each twirl of her tongue against my clit. Her fingers and tongue accelerated unbearably in tandem, and with a low cry, I climaxed hard and long, nearly collapsing beneath each throbbing swell of bliss. As Lucy kissed my recuperating clit, I caressed her cheek. “So,” I said with a provocative grin. “When’s your next night off?”

BUST (ISSN 1089-4713), No. 71, Oct/Nov, 2011. BUST is published bi-monthly in Feb/Mar, Apr/May, June/July, Aug/Sept, Oct/Nov, and Dec/Jan by BUST, Inc. 18 West 27th Street, 9th Floor, New York, NY, 10001. Printed in the U.S.A. Periodicals postage paid at New York, NY, and additional mailing offices. Subscription prices, payable in U.S. funds, are $19.95 for one year (6 issues). Additional postage: In Canada add $10 per year, and in all other foreign countries add $20 per year. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to BUST, P.O. BOX 16775, NORTH HOLLYWOOD, CA, 91615.

sex files

greening the crimson tide REUSABLE PADS AREN’T AS GROSS AS YOU THINK WHEN SAMPLES OF Luna Pads came to the BUST office years ago, I decided to give them a go. The reusable fabric pads seemed like a sensible alternative to tampons and disposable maxis, which are expensive and not exactly ecofriendly. I could save money and the environment, and all I had to do was sit on a little blood? Sold! I’ve been happily using Luna Pads ever since. If you’ve never tried them, here’s a primer so you know what you’re getting into. Made of superabsorbent fleece, the pads come in two parts: the base pad, which snaps around the crotch of your underwear, and a liner insert,

which is secured to the base by two elastic bands ($16.99 for both, They also come in options for different flows (light, average, heavy) as well as different lengths. They aren’t incredibly bulky like some pads, and there are no sticky wings that pull on your pubes. The liner soaks up the majority of the blood so you don’t have to worry about leaking, though I have experienced some seepage while sleeping so I suggest buying a couple of longer sizes for overnight use. Luna Pads don’t absorb as fast as disposable pads, but if the liner gets too wet for your comfort, it’s easy to switch a new one in (I suggest carrying a Ziploc bag to put the used one in, if you’re not at home). You can also stack multiple liners on the days when you are bleeding cats and dogs. So what about washing, right? I am not easily grossed out, so after bleeding on the pad all day, I just roll it up, snap it shut (with the blood on the inside), toss it in the hamper, and wash it (unsnapped) whenever I get around to doing laundry, right in there with my clothes. If that gives you the heebies, you can hand wash or soak them first to get some of the blood out, but truly my clothes have never been affected. I don’t worry about staining them, but Luna suggests treating them with Buncha Farmers’ stain remover ( if you do. Reusable pads seemed pretty foul at first, but I can’t imagine switching back to disposables. Actually, I can’t afford to. I should start a savings account with all the money I’m not spending on feminine hygiene products and take a vacation to enjoy the planet I am helping preserve! [CALLIE WATTS]

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Your go-to section for all things indie, alternative, and cool...

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breaking the curse *When completed, the circled letters in each theme entry will spell out a different, naughty word.

belly button on TV 64. Hot under the collar 65. Moses’ brother 66. Haughtiness 67. Breakfast staple 68. Feudal lord 69. Large butte 70. Bucks’ mates 71. Irregularly notched


Across 1. Girls, in ’60s Brit-Mod slang 6. “Vertical smile” e.g. 10. Gumbo ingredient 14. Green Day’s American ___ on Broadway 15. Hoodwinks 16. Goes (for) 17. “I didn’t do it!” 18. Catch ___


19. Concert equipment 20. Staying the night, so to speak 23. Can you dig it? 24. Keats piece 25. They’re horny 27. Warhol superstar, born Robert Xavier Francis Peter Michael Olivo 31. The act of throwing a whipped cream– topped dessert at someone 32. BUST “Mother Superior” columnist Halliday 33. Academic counselor 36. Studio stock 38. + or - item 39. Approximately 43. Electrical principle 46. Abbr. at the end of a list 47. “Up yours!” 50. Gung-ho 52. Beachgoers’ needs 53. Historic opening? 54. Palillo of Welcome Back, Kotter 55. Result of “too much change in too short a period of time” (Alvin Toffler) 62. Barbara who was not allowed to show her

1. Yarn containers, maybe 2. American ___ 3. Confirmation, e.g. 4. Astro- or Metro- follower 5. Walk over 6. Teatime treat 7. Justin ___ of 2008’s Zack and Miri Make a Porno 8. He’s Just Not That ___ You 9. Cause of a headache (Oy vey!) 10. Female gametes 11. Geisha’s garment 12. Copies, for short 13. Size up 21. Creative spark 22. 2003 – 2007 Fox TV series about teen angst 26. Defeated one’s sigh 27. Crew need 28. Bill ___, the Science Guy 29. Uno + uno, in Italiano 30. One way to fall 31. ___ colada 34. ___ Atty. 35. TV control: Abbr. 37. Book keeper 40. 66, e.g.: Abbr. 41. Campbell’s container 42. PC key 44. Applied incorrectly 45. Ending with hard or soft 47. Fishing spot 48. Top with a top 49. One side in baseball negotiations 51. Flea market deal 53. Squeeze 56. Like some restaurant orders 57. Craving 58. It grows on you 59. Creme-filled snack 60. Gear teeth 61. Leg’s midpoint 63. Eavesdropping org.

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the last laugh [BY ESTHER PEARL WATSON]

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Issue 71  

Issue 71 of BUST Magazine with Mindy Kaling, Jenny Slate, and Blake Anderson.

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