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judy smith Apr 2015
After months of preparation — sketching and making patterns, finding and fitting models, cutting and sewing fabrics, arranging makeup and accessories — Cornell University senior Ellen Pyne this weekend will send her fairy-tale themed “Crimson” line down the Cornell Fashion Collective (CFC) runway in a matter of minutes.

Anticipating their moment to shine, Pyne and 35 other student designers have been laboring since last fall to perfect their creations for the 31st CFC runway show, Saturday, April 11, 8 p.m., in Barton Hall. For first-year designers, the event allows them to present a single look on the big stage, whereas seniors like Pyne plan a full collection, hoping it will launch their fashion careers.

“I eat, sleep, go to class and sew,” said Pyne, whose showstopper is a seamless Snow White-inspired dress made entirely out of hand-felted wool. “The collection is a statement of my artistic aesthetic and the culmination of everything I’ve learned over the past four years.”

Working just as diligently are show planners, led by senior CFC president Megan Rodrigues, who are remaking the cavernous Barton Hall field house to host a night of glamour. Since shortly after the curtain closed on last spring’s show, Rodrigues and the CFC executive board have been organizing ticket sales and a heap of other details, including a new runway design will give the expected 2,500 guests a better view of the Cornell student models on the catwalk.

“Through this process, I’ve learned a great deal about leadership, learning to delegate and being able to inspire others to a common goal,” said Rodrigues, who hopes to work in event planning after graduation. “Mostly, I’m excited to see the growth of each designer leading up to the show.”

Designers come largely from the fashion design major in the College of Human Ecology, but students from the College of Engineering and the College of Arts and Sciences will also contribute pieces. A multidisciplinary team will present “Irradiance,” a wearable technology collection that uses sensors and luminescent panels to detect and respond to audio—glowing and dimming in sync with surrounding music. Lead designer and junior Eric Beaudette said that team, which includes Lina Sanchez Botero and Neal Reynolds, doctoral students in fiber science and physics, respectively, hopes to inspire a vision for smart clothing of the future.

In the sesquicentennial spirit, the show will also include a nod to the past. Recalling campus styles dating back to 1865, Denise Green, assistant professor of fiber science and apparel design, will air a short video about an exhibit, “150 Years of Cornell Student Fashion,” currently on display in the Human Ecology Building.

Inspired by art and culture she observed studying abroad in Paris last fall, junior Linnea Fong will present “Infatuated,” luxury evening wear she described as taking on “individual obsession with physical perfection and how that manifests in the fashion industry.” Just days before the show, she’s still modifying parts of her collection, noting that “you just have to figure out how to make your ideas come to life, which is the fun part.”

Concluding the show will be a line by senior Blake Uretsky, recipient of a 2015 Geoffrey Beene National Scholarship from the YMA Fashion Scholarship Fund. Her “Crested Butte” collection of women’s outerwear, a modern twist on vintage 1950s ski clothing, includes “distinctly wearable, yet visually exciting pieces,” she said. Presenting 10 looks, Uretsky’s line incorporates classic silhouettes and wool, corduroy and denim fabrics embellished with laser cuts and other modern techniques.

“Ultimately, I want to design clothes that people love and have a desire to wear,” Uretsky said. “The show will be such a wonderful experience with my family, friends and the Cornell community all supporting my work.”Read more here:marieaustralia.com | www.marieaustralia.com/cocktail-dresses
COISAS DO ARCO DA VELHA

- Os etês gostam de bunda. Foi o que captei da conversa entre as meninas, enquanto caminhava no calçadão do Liceu.
- Tem caras que não gostam, né; acho que não são chegados; comer um cuzinho será que não faz bem?!
- Cruz credo! Exclamei mentalmente, e segui meu caminho rumo ao Fórum, que fica em frente.
Elas vieram na minha direção, a passos firmes, olhar direto, "você tem fogo...", perguntou a morena pele-de-cuia, "e como tem", observou a loira de olhos azuis, típica europeia, me examinando de cima a baixo, parando os olhos, ostensivamente, na minha barriguilha; "te vejo sempre por aqui", disse a morena, enquanto eu lhe entregava o isqueiro; "é, estou sempre na cantina, tomando café; café de Fórum é choco, frio, fraco, e causa-me asia; então, venho na cantina, às vezes comer alguma coisa", concluí.
- Uma bucetinha, um cuzinho e o que mais? Indagou a loura, acendendo o cigarro.
- Você está sempre cercado de meninas! Não é à toa!! Vai ver é o maior safadão, pica doce.... Completou a morena, sempre combinando seus ataques com a colega.

O Liceu é uma escola destinada à classe média alta, concebida nos tempos do império, onde só entravam filhinhos de papai e seus apadrinhados do aparelho de estado. Mas isso dançou com o advento da república, e hoje, assim como os "Pedro II", recebem qualquer um, desde que aguentem suas provas de avaliação, pois ainda são um padrão de ensino almejado pelas camadas interessadas em ascensão social e tecnica. Seus prédios são construções coloniais, com arquitetura rebuscada, estilosos; janelões de madeira nobre, ainda insensíveis ao cupim. Uma coisa fantástica em termos de concepção, pois possuem salas espaçosas, bem arejadas, lousas imensas, mesas de cedro vernisadas, cheias de gavetas; seus corredores lembram aqueles do filme Harry Potter, sinistros de arrepiar. E no caso do Liceu Nilo Peçanha, de Niterói, Rio de Janeiro, tem um sótão, que seguramente foi planejado como adega, pois tem balcãozinho cheio de compartimentos para copos, taças e talheres, à frente de um espelho na parede em moldura de mogno  e uma silhueta vitoriana; além de um velho barril de carvalho, aonde, sem dúvida, Casimiro de Abreu, Fagundes Varela, Lima Barreto e tantas outras celebridades literárias desta terra de orfandades iniciaram-se nos caminhos da radicalidade estética.

- Conhece o sótão do Liceu? Indagou a morena, quase ao pé do meu ouvido.
- É ideal para uma brincadinha... Insinuou ela. Respondi que lá eu já namorei, me embriaguei, estudei e fiz muita reunião do grêmio.
- Então é "liceano... Vamos!" Disseram ambas, quase em uníssono.
No rádio da cantina, exatamente às dez da manhã no meu Rolex, tocava uma canção, cujo trecho diz assim:" Deixa isso pra lá, vem pra cá, venha ver. Eu não tô fazendo nada, nem você também..." e seguia insinuando outras coisas, ditas pela voz de um dos meus tantos ídolos da mpb, Jair Rodrigues.

Bom, pra encurtar o lererê, a morena está aqui em casa há 32 anos. Já somos avós, e, nem os filhos nem os netos jamais saberão das nossas façanhas e quando lhe mostrei o rascunho deste texto, ela fitou-me com seu olhar fogueando e objetou: você não pôr aí os detalhes...
- Claro que não!! São nossas relíquias!

Winter in Lisbon
Up rua Garret I walked and it is steep in baixa, the old heart of
this grand city, past shops that sell lottery ticket, besides a shop that sells
religious artefacts, and a shop that sells Cartier watches.
If you win there is money enough to decorate your mother's  grave
and to buy a posh watch.
At the top of the street of the street a café Brasilia, it used to be
Fernando Pessoa's drinking den, now it is upmarket, suit and short
hair place who drinks tea and eat pastry; their forefathers used to
look down their noses at Fernando, now they are proud of him.
Irreverent poets can go somewhere else to drink.
The master poet is a statue outside his café in the rain, and tourists
take picture of him, one wonders what he thinks of it all.
There is also a statue of Antonio Ribero Chiado, a poet who lived
in the sixteen hundred, the largo is called after him, he was bald
and dressed like a monk.
I could see the river Tagus where tug-boats ply their in grey waters,
and remembered when I used to be a ******.
The church across the street “Incarnacao”, where Antonio used to pray
is beautifully restored, but his God had left by the back door
the front door was too heavy but saw a woman weeping in front
of a statue of Christos, “***** for the masses? Why not?
It is getting dark the Portuguese suits are swallowed by the metro,
and men with cardboard boxes look for a doorway to sleep in.
Over this scene hovers Amalia Rodrigues the great Fado singer,
born in poverty, she hums a song for the wretched.
Kim Rodrigues Feb 2017
brown soil erupts with till.
more or less still, with seed.
growing pains burst ground,
cosseted by umbrella stem.
seeds of dandelion spread,
waving kisses as they spin.
sunflower magnifies in sky…
till
      seed
                stem
                       ­    ****
                                      sky
                  ­         tired
                 birds
         sigh
o’er

them.  garter snake slithers, amidst anxious pansies and elephant ears.
                                                           ­                                          gray clouds
                                                          ­                                            e
         x
         p
l…………….o
        d……………………..e

xxxxxxxxxxx
­ xxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxx

Kim Rodrigues (c) 2017
Kim Rodrigues Feb 2017
pulpit pounds fist
take your vitamins
sun glares callous

Kim Rodrigues ©2017
Kim Rodrigues Feb 2017
angels glimpse
spryness

of mirthful eyes
and volcanic cheeks

as puffy snowballs leap
about

chatoyant eyes glide
side to side

halcyon hands stroke
chalkboard hue

erasing frenetic world
prowling paws stir

snippets of serenity
beautiful dreams

shyness sheltered
in nuzzled fur

~ sadness scurries ~
purr of laconic

loneliness of
an only child

Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Back to my land
Astonishing
This feeling that only Rodrigues is able to bring into me
It just feels home
Home, home and home
Is there any other word to depict what,
Rodrigues means to mean,
Less hurtful are the memories of my late mother.
I feel safe, like a fish in its pond.
Onto my safeland.
Where my culture and friends nurtured my
Early reality,
Family everywhere, even the strangers feel like family.
My safe-land, where the memories are sweet to my soul.
Home.
Back home
Kim Rodrigues Feb 2017
dig deeper dagger
whilst i hold the golden stake
crowd shuffles nervously
cautiously applauding
sins whispered in the dark

Kim Rodrigues ©Feb 2017

Oscar madness causes me to write!
Oscar madness causes me to write! If you don't know, the wrong movie was called out for best pic. As the group was accepting, the statue was snatched.
Kim Rodrigues Feb 2017
humongous red sun
hovers nearer to the earth
river reflects hues

Kim Rodrigues (c) 2017

— The End —