The Blog

Our friend Katie Conry shared photos of the work-in-progress at the space that'll soon be the new home to the beloved Adobe Books. The shop, which has long championed SF's art scene (literary, visual, and musical), has been located on 16th Street for the past 25 years, but was recently forced to find a new location when the landlord raised the rent. This wasn't the first time it seemed like things were over for Adobe, but the threat did feel very real. Luckily, the community came together and made sure that this little but mighty bookstore could remain open. Katie, along with 13 others, have joined Adobe founder Andrew McKinley to turn the shop into a worker owned cooperative bookstore, art gallery, and community space. 

Adobe Books will celebrate its grand opening at 3130 24th Street in July, but you can get a peek at the new location this Saturday, May 18, at its Marketplace party. From 2-7 p.m., Adobe will welcome local artists and merchants (including The Bold Italic!) to sell their wares at the new storefront. Be sure to stop by and show your support. And stop by our booth to say hello! 

Photos by Tiffany Sainz 

We at The Bold Italic have been longtime fans of the artwork of Lauren DiCioccio. In fact, we carry this San Francisco artist's handy embroidered polyester taffeta interpretation of the classic plastic "Thank You" bag in our online shop. If you're like us and want to see more of her work, you're in luck – one of Lauren's most impressive installation collections, Sewnnews, will be on display at the artMRKT Contemporary Art Faire at Fort Mason, from tomorrow, May 15 through Sunday, May 19. 

For this series, Lauren takes important moments in history as they are depicted on the front page of the various sections of The New York Times and stitches them in stunning color. With print media becoming less and less a part of our everyday lives, Lauren has found another way to make news tactile. The subject matters of the pieces range from important sports moments to political history to pop culture. Each of these snapshots are beautifully captured in cloth and thread by Lauren's intriguing style and color palette. 

Wanting to know a bit more about her work, I reached out to Lauren with some questions:

TBI: How do you choose the photos you embroider?

Lauren DiCioccio: When I started this series, I particularly looked for people who were communicating in some way – gesturing or speaking. As the series progressed, I decided that I wanted to represent a fuller spectrum of subjects covered in the daily paper, so I started drawing images from other sections of the paper. I collect images through the serendipity of seeing the paper, and also every few months I will go to the library and pull all The New York Times from the archives to look for source material. It's a fascinating way to travel through time, leafing through every page of a three-foot high stack of newspapers. I really choose the images for their subject matter and narrative qualities, and also the formal characteristics that make the image conducive to my embroidery (size, background/foreground, light, etc).  

TBI: What inspired you to use newspaper? 

LC: I started making these embroidered newspapers in 2006. At the time, I was making paintings on newspaper pages as an inexpensive and convenient surface on which to work out ideas. When I looked at my paintings from years past, I would flip them over and appreciate the exposed newsprint on their undersides – reading the articles and noting what city the newspaper had been from was such an interesting and evocative indicator of time and place. I thought about the newspaper as an object; it has such specific and unique qualities like the way it smells and the way it feels, the way the newsprint rubs off onto your fingers, and the sound of turning the pages. 

TBI: What process do you use for transferring the photos to cloth?

LC: I transfer the image onto tracing paper, and from that drawing, I transfer it onto cloth using a disappearing ink fabric marker. With the fabric in an embroidery hoop, I do a running-stitch over the line drawing, wash away the pen, and start "painting" the image with the colors of thread.  

TBI: How long have you been embroidering and who taught you?

LC: I have been using embroidery in my work since 2005 or 2006.  I learned to embroider from my mom when I was young. We were always doing craft projects – sewing, cross-stitching, etc. When I started using embroidery as a medium in my artwork, it looked pretty traditional. I eventually loosened up my techniques by thinking about applying color and line as if I were drawing or painting.

TBI: I love how the threads extend from the images down through the copy; what inspired that?

LC: I bring all of the threads I embroider with to the outside/front of the embroidery, rather than tucking them in the back and clipping off the excess. This allows the image to drip off the "canvas" or to knot and tangle and turn abstract. I like that these threads show process but also fragility. I leave my embroidery somewhat unfinishedlooking and like them to feel like if you tugged on any of the threads, the whole image might unravel. This conveys the fragility not only of the medium but of the newspaper and the stories it tells, and perhaps of life in general.  

In addition to artMRKT this weekend, Lauren’s work can also be found at  "The Art of Recology" at the SFO Airport Museum and "Faux Real" and the Laguna Art Museum in Laguna Beach. 

Photo by oriolsalvador

We've all done it. Said something and cringed with instant regret as soon as the inappropriate, condescending, or random words leave your mouth. You can try and play it down with awkward laughing, claim you were just kidding, or apologize and break eye contact indefinitely, but you will always be remembered as the person who said "YOLO" at a funeral.

I know it's hard to resist the allure of adding chunks of snappy catch phrases to the word vomit of your life. And I'm not innocent in all this. I've been known to throw around "totes" and "peeps" way too frequently. But I'm ready to turn over a new leaf and you can too! Join me in boycotting these tired and annoying phrases:

1. Yay me

If you catch yourself saying any combination of sounds that is, or has ever been, a Disney Channel star's catch phrase. Seriously rethink your life choices. 

2. _____ on steroids

It might be possible to trace this phrase back to someone funny, but it isn't actually very funny. If you find yourself about to use this comparison to describe your new juicer, substitute a more precise word like bigger or stronger, instead of causing me to imagine your juicer with huge biceps and tiny shrunken balls.

3. No problem

Did I say there was a problem? This phrase isn't equally annoying for everyone, but for some people it's reason to throw down. Problem.

4. Double reallys

This sounds like "Really? *pause* Really?!" It seems to be a way of addressing the universe and asking in disbelief if there really is a line at Jamba Juice and if some one should really have to be suffering through such an injustice. It's really irritating. 

5. Not gonna lie

Wait, how long has lying been on the table? I was kind of assuming you weren't gonna lie, so maybe skip saying that. It doesn't soften the blow of whatever you're about to say, a la "no offense." It just makes talking to you take longer.

6. Sorry, not sorry

It would probably be easier to say nothing at all than to say something and then instantly take it back just to make sure your vocal chords are still functioning.

7. Wait for it

It's for your own good that you stop using this phrase ASAP. All you're doing is raising expectations for whatever you say next, and making me super disappointed when you end up saying "boobs." 

Note: This phrase can occasionally be funny if it comes before a fart, but it really depends on the fart.

8. I may or may not be...

This always means you are. Just say that you will be getting shwasted and watching The Lion King this Friday night instead of trying to be coy. That way I'll know how to react and probably even join you.

This is possibly the best Craiglist job posting ever, and not in the creepy crazy-person-with-strange-fetish-got-ahold-of-a-computer kind of way. In fact, the poster's desperate plea for a "emotionally moving descriptive writer" actually makes me want to help the poor guy out. Unfortunately, I don't have a degree in hyperbole. 

The ad – posted May 5– may have been the result of a boozy Cinco de Mayo (emotional drunks really shouldn't be allowed near technology) but something tells me that this guy is actually for real. In which case, I feel the need to warn him that searching for someone who believes "that the world still has good, caring people in it" in one of the most jaded cities in the nation, probably isn't a good idea. 

As for the "highly personalized services," which he offers women and need to be so beautifully described – what are they? I am burning with curiosity. I'm tempted to reply to this person (or people? – who is "we") just so I can find out. Or if you answer this call, please let me know. 

Not surprisingly, this isn't the first time that strange SFers have made headlines for their even stranger Craigslist ads. In 2011, some douchebag from the Mission was dubbed the "Holiday Boyfriend" for his chivalrous advertisement requesting someone to have relations with just for the holiday season. 

"Deep down inside, you don't want to be alone for the holidays. [...] But, you've spent all year working on your career/training for charity bike rides/getting drunk and haven't had the time or inclination to track down and capture a boyfriend." 

What a catch. 

In the same year the self-dubbed "Best Roommate Ever" entertained the Internet with his colorful post trying to convince someone in SF to rent him a room. The ad began, "Konichiwa bitches. Are you looking for the most kick-ass fucking roommate that ever lived? If so, look no further. You fucking found him." 

Finally, last year, SF blogger Maneesh Sethi actually hired someone off Craiglist to slap him in the face every time he tries to use Facebook while working. 

Only in San Francisco ...