4-13-25 MY INSPO: who's your (dead) daddy?
if you're on the same side of the internet as myself, you are not a stranger to the many posts lamenting the death of an robin williams, jim morrison, kurt cobain, and other men that were icons turned legends posthumously. i once read someone describing that each girl in her twenties ends up choosing her own emotional support dead man, and one learns their lore until all resources are exhausted (many times these sources are limited because they are in fact - dead). sib, for example, could share some deep dirt on david bowie or some other 70s rockstar with shady history. in my teens, vincent van gogh was pivotal to me, i would watch the doctor who episode featuring van gogh just to get into my emotions and mourn the couple hundred old artist who would've been long dead even prior to my birth. i read his letters to his brother faster than my mandatory school readings. i made the art hoe aesthetic my bitch.
the reason why i'm bringing this topic up is because i am reading a book by another dead man we all praise and quote in bars and restaurants - the late great hedonist - anthony bourdain. i'm currently reading his book medium raw, and it got me thinking, damn, i really have a bizarre affinity to these dead dudes. before any trip, i check where bourdain himself trekked, watch that episode and make arrangements to sleep, eat and practically shit where bourdain did. anthony bourdain simply had that coolness about him, with the pinky rings and band tees and just that fuck it mentality. we can all appreciate his unglossed reports in his shows, his love toward the indigenous people and their meals, and culture, and his hatred of the fast food and clout mentality in the dining industry. while i am only a twenty something girl with a full time job, i may not be as brave to take on the exact same paths as he, but his ways opened my eyes to appreciate even some local hidden gems - such as zubal books here in our own downtown cleveland, a bookstore with an insane inventory. boyfriend and i made our way to their warehouse (that is opened only earlier in the weekdays, not super compatible for us 9-5ers) a couple years ago for mlk jr day when we were both off. it was a brittle cold day but we managed to wander through their warehouse and i got to chat with the manager and even get some good deals on some books. ditch barnes and noble, check out zubal!
jfk jr and carolyn bessette kennedy died in a pair and were my obsession in a pair - and their lore was last summer's big one for me. the more i'm writing this, the more morbid and morally wrong it is, but in my defense - is it inherently bad if we could say we are honoring these influential people after their passing? just so you know, an i told ya t shirt and an edition of george magazine during jfk jr's years are still on my wishlist. and i'm going to say it - jack schlossberg may be the last kennedy, but jfk jr still holds the throne of being the most beautiful one.
during covid i was itching for a new hobby, and while i was always into art and decent in school, i never seriously took it up and treated myself with art equipment, until lockdown and 2020 happened. i struggled with insomnia-like symptoms during this time, and enjoyed watching bob ross' the joy of painting to help with my sleep. i got so inspired, that shortly after, i was at joann's scouring easels, canvases and oil paints, paint brushes and other varnishes that would probably give me a headache and hallucinations in an improperly vented room. that spring i would haul my equipment onto the balcony of my old room and follow the calming words of bob ross, like a meditation. if you want to learn how to paint, i am dead serious, his tricks and advice work like magic! the netflix documentary bob ross: happy accidents, betrayal and greed was a heartbreaking and disappointing. still, his true legacy is beyond the money and merch.
before you timothee chalamet loving bitches, and you dudes who think you know how to play the guitar, come for me - bob dylan did not deserve the 2016 nobel prize for literature. not when the following emotional support dead guy exists: leonard cohen. we were introduced with hallelujah watching shrek, and his red needle cocktail is one i frequently make (tequila, cranberry juice, lemon stirred over ice). 2016 was a rough year when we think how many incredible icons passed away. the nobel prize always stings, because i do think cohen was snubbed.
if you're croatian, or croatian-american, old or young, you may recognize this icon just by association: striped shirt, cigar, boats and seagulls. i hope you guessed correctly. the next emotional support dead guy is oliver dragojeviÄ. his songs are a hit at any event, in any place - diaspora or duga resa. he encapsulated the dalmatian lifestyle so impeccably, you feel transported into his world with just the few notes of moj galebe. his passing in 2018 encapsulated the way croatians do a celebration of life - numerous boats equipped with flares, guitars and fans glided through the coast of the adriatic in honor of this legendary singer.
another honorable mention goes to a man lesser known to the croatian-american community, but almost equally impactful in croatia. not necessarily a citizen but a man i dubbed as the princess diana of the balkans - the macedonian toŔe proeski. he passed only a couple months after i moved to croatia, but it was so newsworthy that i begged my parents for his cd igra bez granica, and i got it for my birthday (and even brought it with me to the states). he died in a car accident at the age of 26. he was immensely talented, incredibly humble and just beautiful. his talent was known across all of ex-yu and loved by all.
āi design clothes because i donāt want women to look all innocent and naĆÆve⦠i want woman to look stronger⦠i donāt like women to be taken advantage of⦠i donāt like men whistling at women in the street. i think they deserve more respect. i like men to keep their distance from women, i like men to be stunned by an entrance. iāve seen a woman get nearly beaten to death by her husband. i know what misogyny is⦠i want people to be afraid of the women i dress.ā
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