Since the reckless use of the “download” function seems to be what destroyed my last computer (hey, did you know that there’s a such thing as computer viruses? ‘cuz apparently i didn’t.), I’ve been treating this new one as though the slightest addition to the hard drive will cause a major catastrophic meltdown…
Which it will, if anything happens to this new computer.
However, a life without itunes isn’t a life worth living, so I finally bit the bullet this afternoon and added it. Since most of the music on my former lappy was ill-begotten through Limewire (again, viruses? never heard of ‘em!), I don’t actually have an itunes account. Later tonight Man and I are going shopping for an external hard drive and some itunes gift cards so I can join the ranks of legitimate music fans, but in the meantime I’m sitting here listening to internet radio.
Which brings me to a funny aside. After my successful download and install of itunes, I bounced out into the living room and declared: “Hey! I can listen to internet radio now!”
To which Man replied: “Yeah, Em. Welcome to 2003.”
So, pardon me if I’m about to tell you something people living in 2010 already know…
For the last two hours I’ve been listening to what has fast become my new favorite internet station. FTV Hits, which broadcasts music from fashion/runway shows around the world. Pretty cool.
So I’ve been playing this little game with myself all afternoon. A song comes on, and I try to imagine what kind of clothes or which designer would use that particular tune. It’s all been pretty standard fare so far: Slow remixes of European electronica and the occasional 80’s hit.
Then they tossed me a curve ball.
Yeah, I know. Rappers seem to be the new Lagerfelds these days, but… I dunno. Call me a fashion show purist, but Lil Wayne? What on Earth would I send down a runway to the tune of someone who can make sex sound so dirty, sweaty and all-around nasty I almost don’t want to do it anymore?
Then it struck me.
But not just any old collection of formalwear. No, if I was handed a Weezy track and told to match it to clothes, I’d do Cotillion gowns.
‘Cuz there ain’t nothin’ more gangsta than an old fashioned Debutante ball.