Miaow Handmade Plush Animals

WE'RE SUPPORTING

If you stop by Athens, Geogia’s Daily Co-op, you just might find David Mack at the register working on some drawings or comics. But chances are that he’ll be doing some other task, like placing fruit orders or maintaining the merchandise shelves. He always stays busy and has a new website to prove it.

WE'RE TRAVELLING TO

There’s something quite captivating about the muted tones and soft textures of Anna Fraser’s photographs. The Australian designer has a very precise sense of framing, which is reflected in the slightly insidery, but beautifully balanced perspective that her work provides on places and scenery that only few people ever get to experience. By her own admission, Fraser ‘prefers things that are not usually very fashionable. Like beige, lots of beige and maybe a bit of taupe’. We think she might be onto something. Read more

WE'RE WEARING

It’s all about juxtaposition for the fashion duo Anzevino & Florence. With William Anzevino hailing from the East Coast and Richard Florence from West, they find inspiration in opposing forces. Who else could find commonality between Warhol and Thoreau? Read more

WE'RE THINKING

So I interviewed Bianca, one half of Coco Rosie, the other morning. Love their music: very dramatic, almost operatic in its scale yet imbued with a sense of sonic unease that carries the divine melodies well beyond their maudlin minor key progressions. Read more

WE'RE READING

The Occasional Diaries Of Werner Herzog is a spoof online diary for German film director, Werner Herzog. Although they’re all fiction, I enjoy reading them as much as if they were genuine. Read more

I’m really excited about the Melbourne band Plug-in City. They remind me of Belle & Sebastian, The Kooks and Cut Copy all in one. What more can us New Yorkers ask for?

WE'RE LISTENING TO

You know that band you’ve always wanted to form, the one with the little-girl-lost singer with the mischevious eyes and the propulsive beats that drive bass hooks so catchy you want to bottle them up and sell them to Sting? That’s right, that fictional band that lingers just that little deeper in your imagination every time you saunter down Bedford Avenue, surrounded by girls in neon tights and guys in ruffed up converse. You know the one? Well, guess what, you’re too late. It’s arrived. It’s French. And it’s so damn good.