A series of events last week* reminded me of The Craft, and this weekend I re-watched it for the first time in over 10 years. I've been in the throes of middle and high school regression lately (with things like My So-Called Life and the Lost Highway soundtrack), so I was already in the mood for the clothing and music in the movie. The soundtrack is fantastic; I remember going on vacation with my parents that summer and only listening to that CD, over and over.
If you haven't seen it, The Craft is a pretty campy movie about four high schoolers who form a coven and cast spells on other people. The girls are played by Robin Tunney, Fairuza Balk, Neve Campbell and Rachel True. What ever happened to all of them? Somehow I remember exactly what I wore to the movie theatre for this one - a Hole t-shirt (borrowed from my friend Krys) with a black skirt and Dr. Marten boots. Holy 90s.
See? Campy.
I remember trying to balance my pencil on my desk for days afterward. Never worked, surprise.
*Upon seeing the album cover of Lady Gaga's new album, I thought of Wheelers from Return to Oz. They were these (creepy as hell) steampunk looking guys with wheels for hands and feet. That made me think of the one and only Fairuza Balk, who starred as Dorothy in the movie, and has a lead role in The Craft.
I started writing this post twice yesterday, and couldn't figure out where to start because my thought process on this topic for the past 2.5 months has been very labyrinthine. The short version is that I got this watch in the mail on Saturday:
It took me a long time to figure out what kind of mechanical watch I wanted; when I figured out I wanted a Russian 24-hour (a Raketa in particular), it was easy to narrow down but hard to get my hands on. This is because (from what I understand) fakes in Russian watches tend to run rampant, and it's hard to know unless you're holding one whether or not it's real.
I fell down one of my rabbit holes with Raketa a few weeks ago; I found out that it means "rocket" in Russian, and that it was founded to commemorate Yuri Gagarin's "first flight in the history of mankind" into space. The factory that produces Raketa is the oldest factory in Russia (founded by Peter the Great! in 1721); it was destroyed by Nazis during the Siege of Leningrad, and rebuilt in 1944.
Googling "Raketa 24-hour" yielded many awesome watches, and the above is the one that caught my eye the most. But I couldn't pull the trigger. Both eCommerce sites that had them in stock were very shady, and I had read things about them on forums confirming my suspicions. I felt a bit paralyzed, until I mentioned the conundrum to a watch journalist and collector in Singapore, SJX. He and his friend helped point me into a trustworthy eBay seller's direction about a week ago. After talking to him and reading the seller's description, I don't think this watch is actually a Raketa, but rather a brandless Russian watch designed some time between the 1970s and late 1990s. I was deflated for about 5 seconds, but then realized that I didn't even care; I love this thing, and this was the one that I had already formed a relationship with online over the past several weeks.
If you click through and zoom in, you'll see a few stars sprinkled onto Antarctica – they mark Soviet research stations. I could go on for pages about the stuff I dove into afterward – about the Soviet Antarctic Expedition, the global research that happens on the continent, and that there are places called the Pole of Cold and Pole of inaccessibility (whoah) – but I'm still trying to unravel my brain from it all. All the while I kept thinking about this Herzog movie I saw years ago, Encounters at the End of the World –
I'm still trying to figure out what to name the penguins. Fabian and Mikhail? All suggestions welcome.
(Also, I know about 2% of what I'd like to know about both mechanical watches and Soviet-era watches; apologies if I got anything wrong here. Please let me know if this is the case.)
Alexandre shared this music video with me last week, and I've been thinking about it since then. It's called Kiss Me Forever, by Julien Doré. He was raving about the song and video, and when I watched it I understood why. It's pretty catchy, and makes you want to do a silly dance or pump your bike tires and zoom down the street. The video though is the best part - it's a kind of loony mix of spring colors, cold, and said silly dancing. And a bichon frise. The slight silliness, slight Frenchness, and particular style of catchiness all reminded me of M's video for Qui de nous Deux.
Most of all, it reminded me of the fact that it's May, and bright pops of color are showing up in store windows, yet New York didn't seem to get the memo – it's been cold and rainy since March. Watching Kiss Me Forever makes me not care as much.
