My sister & I grew-up loving our family tradition of walking down Fifth Ave. at Christmas time to check out the spectacular holiday windows. My parents were both in the fashion 'biz, so we were brought up with the sense that retailers were like temples . . . sacred places to feed our aspirations and show us glimpses of the divine. And just like midnight mass at St. Patrick's, every Winter these stores give passerby a gift of beauty, free of charge . . . brilliantly conceived portals to something magnificent. Also adding to the excitement, is the fact that all these retail temples are falling over backwards, in a competition for your love and devotion.

So as a gift to those who won't have a chance to stroll down 5th this season, I've taken snaps of the two holiday displays that really left me dazzled. First (naturally), is Bergdorf's Busby Berkeley-inspired BG Follies, with each window displaying a decadent vignette of Art Deco boudoir dollies & mini-mannequins moonlighting as chorus girls, jazz babies, Ziegfeld cuties, and mini-Earl Carroll-esque beauties holding Sally Rand-style feather fans.

Also swoon-worthy were Tiffany & Co.'s windows, which featured delicate miniature scenes of romantic Winter moments a-la Uptown Manhattan. Ingeniously conceptualized by my dear friend, Christopher Young, each scene exhibits a mind-bending attention to detail . . . from the nearly-microscopic Tiffany blue ornaments on the Christmas trees, to the tiny blue box placed in the fluffy snow on the steps leading up to an ornate little Brownstone. Each vignette, an emotional fantasy bringing me back to that wondrous feeling of wiring a dollhouse lamp into a shoebox diorama in 4th grade, and having it actually light-up, making me feel like a magical wizard of electricity. Forget the diamonds . . . through these windows you'll view passion, creative vision, and pure love.

Photos: J.B. Taylor

Above: New years eve at Studio 54, circa 1978

A rumor has it that
It's getting late
Time marches on
Just can't wait
The clock keeps turning
Why hesitate
You silly fool
You can't change your fate
Let's cut a rug
A little jive and jitterbug
We want the best
We won't settle for less
Don't be a drag
Participate
Clams on the half shell
And roller-skates
Roller-skates

Good times
These are the good times
Leave your cares behind
These are the good times
Our new state of mind
These are the good times

Good Times, Chic (1979)

Here's to an inspiring love and disco-filled 2013 everyone! XO, J.B.T.

I'm currently fighting the dreary Wintertime blues out here in our country cottage in NY—missing the California sunshine I grew-up with. So, in desperate need of colorful inspiration, I decided to re-visit the stunning documentary on the Ballets Russes (which you can view streaming here). On a grey and rainy day, like today, it's like a gold gilded treasure chest full of chromatic beauty, not only about dance, but all aspects of passion and creativity.

Above; Prima ballerina Mia Slavenska and a publicity photo of herself, taken in the 1930s. Below; two of Slavenska's characters, displaying her chamelion-like nature as a performer.

It's fabulous to see the original prima ballerinas still sassing it up, most of whom are dancing right on through their octo/nonagenarian years. How great they all look, and how vibrantly their spirits sparkle, is a testament to the grace and character one builds through a life of movement. Having taken years of ballet as a child (fueled by the movie Fame, and an early Chorus Line obsession), I sadly hung up my toe shoes in my late-teens, but watching this doc has reignited my love, and is responsible for my Ballet Beautiful membership. It's also dear to my heart, as it entertained me while recovering from a painful surgery years ago. While stuck in bed, I found it streaming on Netflix, and go absolutely lost in the Technicolor costumes (several designed by Matisse), mind-bogglingly innovative set design (mostly designed by Léon Bakst), and of course, the dancing, which is like watching the most heavenly dream.

Above; A stunning, surrealistic program for the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo, c.1950s (possibly designed by Dali?). Below; two looks at the adorable Nathalie Krassovska.

The Ballets Russes has long been an inspiration to countless designers and artists throughout the years; designers and artists like Galliano, Anna Sui, and Sarah Sophie Flicker of The Citizens Band, have each taken cues from the deco folkloric styles of the costumes and sets. I'll soon post photos I took during a visit to the magical Dance Museet in Stockholm, where my heart pirouetted like crazy over several original 1920s Ballet Russe costumes.

Above; Salvador Dali's program for the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo's production of Labyrinth, c.1940-41. Below; the company was home to some of the history's most celebrated dancers, including Nijinsky and Anna Pavlova, as pictured here.

If you'd like to dive deep into the story of the Ballets Russe, I recommend reading this wonderful book about the eccentric Russian impresario, Sergei Diaghilev, director and creator of this legendary company.

Love and organic Cadbury Creme Eggs (a girl can dream),

— J.B.T., Andy & Edie

And if not familiar with what this post title is in reference to . . . watch this unfortunate pop culture artifact.

Photo: Jean-Jacques Bugat, Rue Princesse, c.1966

Hello, you! I'm sorry it's been a while, but hopefully you'll forgive me when I launch the website I've been developing for the past year (more to be revealed soon)! As a gift to you for my absence, and also in an attempt to organize my ODC-worthy desktop of infinite inspiration folders, I've decided to share/purge some recent visual finds. Enjoy!

Above: 19th century Northern Schoolwatercolor still life spotted in an auction catalog.

Jerry Hall backstage, shot by FrançoisMoyal , Paris,c.1970.

"Nautch Dancer" Illustration for Ladies Home Journal by Dan Sweeney, c.1920.

A Southwestern style dollhouse named "El Rancho Reno", built c.1935 by Thomnas Reno of Pittsburgh for his daughter, and restored in the 1970's.

Georgia O'Keeffe painting at Alfred Stieglitz's Summer home in Lake George, NY, c.1918

And for musical inspiration, I've been listening to the mixes on Magic Transistor, which functions like the vintage portable radio of your fantasies. It even simulates the knobs so you can flip stations. They play mellow mixes perfect for when you're working, all curated by various obsessive LP collectors. Today I've been swaying at my desk to John Cale, Hank Williams, Fela Kuti, Bo Diddley, The Cure, Ultravox, rare Bowie, The Supremes,  and on and on . . .