Once again, there were some fabulous, over-the-top dog costumes on display at the 2008 Tompkins Square Park Dog Halloween Parade and plenty of pups hamming it up for the cameras. These were a few of my favorites:
Marie Antoinette
This is my third year taking photos at this event, and I can say that without fail, pugs in costume are hilarious. Their butterball shape is perfect for dressing up, and their furrowed brows and bugged-out eyes give them a sweet, put-upon expression. Check out previous years’ devil-pug and Chinese pug to see what I mean. This adorably grotesque Marie Antoinette was my fave this year, for getting the spirit just right.
Snake Pup
This pup-being-swallowed-by-a-snake costume looks like it was sported by the same dog who was “Millipup” last year. I like when the owners get dressed up in a matching outfit: here’s a photo of the full Jungle explorer costume.
Card Shark
Every now and then, you’ll have an owner who builds a mobile diaroma around their pet’s persona. These guys came in virtually unseen through a side gate dragging an entire gambler’s den on a cart, complete with stereo system. The mini red velvet sofa is genius.
For more photos of this year’s event check out my Flickr.
Update 10/30/08: See more Halloween doggy pics from me and others featured on Gothamist.com and NYmag.com.
I’ve been working on a redesign on and off for the past couple of weeks, and finally took some time this weekend to get it done. I’ve also updated the About Me page, added basic search, implemented some sorely-needed page navigation, fixed some Internet Explorer bugginess, and threw in a rotating header for good measure. More snack updates and improvements to come…
And now, a foray to the dark side. Ever since I discovered the Department of Health web site listing New York City restaurant inspection reports, I find myself returning from time to time, always with mingled fascination and dread. Sometimes I eat out in total ignorance of how “dirty” the place might be, and sometimes I consciously forget. I like to have the kitchen in plain sight; but then again I’m always watching out for something that’s off when I can see it. Being Snackish, I’m not supposed to be too-easily squeamish about what happens in there. However, that’s a facade that’s oh so easy to crack.
There have been a few times in my life when I deeply wished I spoke French.
When I was in France. Visiting a nation filled with people making incomprehensible vowel sounds is easy enough for a few days, but situations arise during even a short stay where clear communication is handy. Like, for example, arranging a wake-up call on your overnight train at the correct time so you don’t miss your stop and jolt from a dead sleep in the middle of some place that looks to be, from all the mountains, Switzerland.
When I was dating a French dude. One who would oh-so-subtly slip into French during certain phone calls. I think probably most mono-linguistic people have fantasized about being subjected to a seemingly “private” conversation in another language, then dropping some dry “gotcha” hint that they completely understood the whole thing: “Sooo, what ‘bitch-ass-ho’ ARE you having dinner with tonight?”
When I spied Yummy Magazine. Although I can’t read a word, the pictures hint that Yummy (Junk Food Design) Magazine gazes at/fetishizes fast food culture through through the lens of a design junky. But getting past the obvious ironies, surprises abound–a pictorial of Cadbury creme eggs (those eggy fillings always struck me as peculiarly creepy), and photos of Japanese candy displays, lunchmeat collages, beautifully-lit fried chicken, and a woman having a hell of a lot of fun with a bottle of Perrier. Yummy is released annually, which is probably just as well for me since it’s priced like an art book, even in euros (30€ - which by next year may well be a hundred bucks). But it all goes to show that snacks are fertile ground for inspiration–or maybe even art?
There’s a near-legendary statistic that nine out of ten new restaurants fail. Of course, some important info, like what constitutes “failure” and how long it takes to achieve it, is left out of that soundbite. Reasearch shows that closer to 25% of new restaurants close or change ownership within their first year. That number rises to 60% within three years. These are still not happy statistics, but are close to the average failure rate for new businesses across the board.
Still I wouldn’t be surprised if that rate is much higher for certain parts of Manhattan. In the East Village especially, I’ve noticed that if a certain street falls out of my flight pattern for a few months, I end up re-discovering the block. Signs change, familiar spots are shuttered, once-dark places are ablaze and spilling drunk kids onto the sidewalk, and the whole landscape has re-shuffled in my absence. I found this novelty quite enjoyable, except in a few cases, like the lovely Italian place near my apartment, that decamped in place of construction and a swirly neon sign in Miami pastels. That sign gives me a bad vibe; like it is calling, in a pitch beyond normal hearing, loud girls in tube tops and mini-skirts, and sports-jocks with beer bongs and anger to burn. More obstacles to my front door. Of course, the rate of change also affects me personally when I realize it’s rendered portions of my blog out-of-date in under a year.
So for now, Boedguita Cubana, whose Serbian owners supplied me with delicious Cuban fare throughout last summer, has closed. The other places mentioned at the Zagat link, namely Bouche Bar, and Sea Salt, were also familiar spots. And moving forward, I will attempt to indicate on my blog which of the places I’ve reviewed that have subsequently closed.