Moose: Artful Living

I Saw the Sign

Allison — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 12:26:22 +0000

So for today’s long-delayed Moose post, I’m showin’ ya some regular ole street posters that a graphic designer gathered from around his neighborhood, redesigned, and then replaced in his community. He maintained the messages, but jazzed ‘em up a bit. Public art, where the medium is the message. Way cool!

Also (potentially) cool is that I have my own story about jazzy re-styled posters, as a thematic, essay-esque accompaniment to this artistic showcase. Here goes. You coming? Good.

I’ve never had any inclination to govern. But when I started going (stir-)crazy senior year, I decided to place a bid for high school office.

The action wasn’t actually fueled by leadership ambition. It certainly wasn’t “for college.” And it DEFINITELY wasn’t to enact any sort of change in our venerable educational institution.

Nay – it was for a far simpler, stupider reason: to make posters.

After years of seeing our tiled walls plastered with bad puns, bad photos, embarrassing spelling errors, and the most egregious of sloppy magic marker-ing (FOR SHAME), it one day hit me that this niche of severely unprofessional, irritatingly indulgent, rarely original, cloyingly self-promotional student marketing was not just for the select few who wanted to duke out their choices for school-event DJs (which, despite only going to one Homecoming dance for about 20 minutes—and mostly for irony!!!—I deliberated with certainty was in fact a moot point, as the mix-masters likely just siphoned mainstream school-bus-favorite Z100 and piped it out of jumbo speakers into our linoleumed cafeteria). Anyone with guts and poster board could make a run for it.

It turned out that printer paper also worked fine.

With nothing else to do after school (I may or may not have had homework, that, in quite un-Allison fashion, I may or may not have completed – recall my mention in paragraph one of going crazy), I set to work.

This was in the days before Google Image (think back – way back – to the end of the 20th century), so finding wacky pictures to adorn my silly little signs took considerably more effort. I went to actual websites (heeey, Geocities) to pick out pics of RuPaul, Little House on the Prairie, Squeaky Fromme, Hawaii Five-O, The Noozles, and The Snorks. I scanned in vintage lenticular postcards of 1960s Barbie and friends. I even made some grade-school-level quasi-abstract art in Microsoft Paint (how quaint!).

Lest you be scratching yr noggie right now over how these images might correlate to high school government, I realize I have neglected to mention what position I was running for, and it is a major plot point in this story. So, I will tell you. Random rep.

In case you did not have both the contradictory misfortune and simultaneous privilege of attending my high school, I will explain more about this unique (and, I must add, uncontested) role.

Our school government had the typical trappings: president, VP, secretary, treasurer, governor, headmistress, rat-catcher, shoeshine boy, and maybe some other super-important governmenty things? I don’t know. I never really paid attention.

Anyway, I heard it through the grapevine that, this year, they would also be upping the representation “for the people.” Once the results for the regular slots were tabulated, the newly chosen student govvies would meet up in their dedicated clubhouse (a small private room near the aforementioned linoleumed cafeteria), whip out a registry of all of the students in the class, and call out two numbers. The first proclaimed number was the page. The second, the entry on the list of that particular page. And thusly, our inaugural random rep would be appointed.

I may need to clarify that, yes, random rep really does mean a randomly selected representative. And random really does mean beyond your control. Running for this position was like lobbying to win the lotto, or asking certain sperm to help create you.

To me, this odd (and against-the-odds) scenario represented not inevitable disappointment, but guaranteed absurdity, and all without a hit to my self-esteem. I literally had nothing to lose (or—for that matter—win). For the first time in a class-wide popularity contest, rejection was not an option. I could be fearless.

In addition to the smattering of miscellaneous images (accompanied simply by the single word “random”—I don’t think I even had any mention of my name, or the notion of voting, for one “series”), some posters instead featured a variety of campaign-y slogans. Ragging on the tired, typical messaging of secretarial and treasurarial elections past (and, most likely, present and future), I alleged that voting for me for random rep “just made cents” because I was “the leading lady.”

For one, I even went so far as to adopt my own nihilistic catchphrase for the job: “Vote Allison for Random Rep – Because Your Vote Doesn’t Count.” Unfortunately, even though the principal saw how, indeed, one’s vote (or non-vote) for an un-runnable, arbitrarily-selected position bore no consequence, he still insisted I take it down, so as not to invoke apathy among the student body regarding the democratic process—or, God forbid, anarchy.

The principal wasn’t the only one who was a little puzzled. Nobody really seemed to get it. Which—on top of my being allowed to showcase bizarre imagery in conjunction with a bullshit message—was maybe the greatest coup of all.

Meanwhile, the biggest surprise was when several of my peers showed their support—not for my goofy gag, but for my alleged candidacy. “I’ll vote for you!” they’d assure me. “But you can’t,” I’d reply. “I’m not really on the ballot.” To which a number promised, “Don’t worry, I’ll write you in.”

My run for random rep was the first (but not last) time I’d throw my hat into an election, and, despite my complete disinterest in actually holding office or throwing hats, I confess that a certain campaign fever took over. By which I mean I got a giant kick seeing what (granted, benign) ridiculousness I was getting away with.

Even though my posters didn’t make any kind of positive or declarative statements about myself, I couldn’t help but get a rush when I’d pass one in the halls in between classes. It was my own subversive, hilarious (to me, at least), ego-boosting graffiti; a sort of private-but-public daily affirmation; a way of comforting my (often) loner self, as if to say, “If you can amuse yourself, kid, you’re gonna be just fine.”

Election day came and went, and, lo and behold, I did not climb aboard the civic participation train.

But a few days later, I bumped into one of our elected class officials, who offered me his sympathy for my “loss.”

Elected Class Official: I’m really sorry you didn’t get random rep. I know how much you wanted it.

Allison: No, it’s OK. I mean, it’s random. The chances of my getting picked were 1 in…300? I don’t know. I can’t do math. The point is that I was not counting on winning.

ECO: Yeah, but, you wanted to win.

Allison: Actually, and no offense to this most honorable of extracurricular distinctions that I TOTALLY respect, but, um, I kinda just wanted to…um…make posters…?

ECO: Yeah, I know, we LOVED your posters! You made so many of them—really put in an effort. We’re really sorry you weren’t picked.

After I got over thinking this kid was a stinkin’ idiot, I reviewed his statements once more. He had never shown himself to give a shit about me previously, so his contrition gave me pause.

I wondered, if he was expressing so much remorse, did this mean there had actually been a for-real discussion about selecting me? (Even though this would have very obviously gone against the sacred principle of randomness upon which the position was created—thus desecrating the very dignity and purpose of the supposedly “everyman” selection. HEATHENS. All of them. Government clearly cannot be trusted.)

I imagined all the arguments they’d volleyed back and forth when making this very important, and somewhat insane, deliberation:

- She’s crazy
- She’ll never wake up early enough for our morning meetings
- She hates this place
- She doesn’t give a shit about “the issues”
- Sometimes she exhibits halitosis from an unfortunate nasal drip
- She’s always making dirty jokes
- She’s crazy
- No, I mean, really crazy
- She gives good head

But aside from that last one (no one at my school would know this, and more importantly, if they said so, they’d be dead wrong), all of these assessments would be totally correct.

And so, unwanted power still ungraspable, I accepted defeat honorably, and without protest.

I don’t think I was the write choice anyway.

Up in The Air

Sarah — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 02:17:10 +0000

I went to see the contemporary permanent collection at the LACMA last year when a friend came to visit me, and Jeff Koons Balloon Dog; Blue is still one of my favourite pieces on display.

How fun is that? I so wanted to jump on top of that guy and wrap my arms around his neck and sit there all afternoon, but the guards were totally on to me and kept a close watch. Buzzkill guards. Since I can’t own this big guy the next best thing is getting my hands on this adorable brooch from Another Empire! Maybe if I buy enough of them I can construct my own giant size one?

Chubby Cheeks of Cuteness

Sarah — Sun, 18 Apr 2010 12:42:35 +0000

Most of my north American friends shudder in revulsion when I mention my love of Squirrels. To most of them, a squirrel is basically a more agile rat, carrying multiple diseases. To me however, they forge images of myself gaily running through a meadow with my furry little friend on a leash skipping ahead. How can you NOT think they are hilariously adorable?! EXHIBIT A:

If this image still does not manage to reach the cold hard cockles of your heart, then this adorable necklace we just got in stock from Oh Deer! surely will!

Glass Genius

Matt — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 07:16:58 +0000

We aren’t exaggerating when we say that we harassed, cajoled, begged and pleaded with glass artist extraordinaire Kristin McFarlane to be a part of Moose. Thank my old high school, John Curtin, whose motto was ‘Persevere and Advance’. And it’s not just because she’s an international award winner who has exhibited everywhere twice and in her spare time designs the trophies for the Australian of the Year awards, it’s because….well…….look at the work!

Kristin manages to combine her sublime glass skills with some amazing typography and graphics – all designed by her super-talented self.

We imagine that anyone who receives the Australian of the Year award feels pretty proud of themselves on the day, but we imagine that having the trophy to look at each day that follows is a pretty special feeling too.

So, we were beyond ecstatic when poor Kristin finally buckled under the weight of our begging and sent over some of her gorgeous pendants. Now everyone’s a winner! (And Kristin gets a break).

Lola & Bailey Sundials

Matt — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 07:05:53 +0000

A little while ago e got wind of some amazing new pieces coming out of Sydney duo Lola & Bailey, whose work we have been huge fans (and big stockists) of since Day One. Well, the rumours were TRUE. And STUNNING. Naturally, we went nuts ordering the gorgeous Sundial range – as well as some new Dial D pendants – and they can all be viewed and drooled over by clicking on the links below…

Smarty Pants

Sarah — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 22:58:53 +0000

How awesome are these Know It All pencils?

Chocolate Makes Everything More Fun!

Sarah — Fri, 12 Mar 2010 22:55:18 +0000

Just saw this chocolate pie chart over at Mary & Matt,

Am pretty sure if my math classes had used chocolate to demonstrate theories and ideas you would now be reading the words of a professional mathematician.

Want. Now.

Sarah — Sun, 07 Feb 2010 00:03:21 +0000

Rainbow cake? YES PLEASE.

(via Oh Happy Day)

Model Citizen

Sarah — Sat, 06 Feb 2010 23:55:49 +0000

I just squealed with delight finding these scale model photographs by Michael Paul Smith.

From the man himself:

“What started out as an exercise in model building and photography, ended up as a dream-like reconstruction of the town I grew up in. It’s not an exact recreation, but it does capture the mood of my memories.
And like a dream, many of the buildings show up in different configurations throughout the photos. Or sometimes, the buildings stay put and the backgrounds change.

The buildings are 1/24th scale [ or 1/2 inch equals a foot ]. They are constructed of Gator board, styrene plastic, Sintra [ a light flexible plastic that can be carved, and painted ] plus numerous found objects; such as jewelery pieces, finishing washers and printed material.”

All of these amazing little dioramas have not been photoshopped at all! What you see is what you get, which is a lovely scene of someone’s memory. Sigh. Double sigh. I feel like Gregory Crewdson would appreciate this work.

Back to School

Sarah — Sat, 23 Jan 2010 03:29:41 +0000

Practically the only thing I loved about going back to school at the end of the summer was being able to get my hands on new stationery. I loved poring over the catalogues from Big W and Kmart that would get stuffed in our letter box and figuring out just how many faber castell connector pens would fit into my daggy tartan pencil case before it seemed excessive. Crayola pretty much formed my early colour distinguishable palette so to see this awesome chart makes me want to go out and buy a whole heap of textas immediately!

If you are back to school shopping, and want something neat to bribe your kids back to school without having to resort to whistles and air horns, then why not peruse our Textiles section? Lilypad Designs has some pretty sweet pencil case alternatives (which probably won’t go “missing” as easily as the Tartan ones) and for those older students who are maybe heading back to university, perhaps a new Portfolio from Portfoli-Oh or sweet new bag from Emma Coast might be up their alley?