Sometimes planning your outfits as a group is a good idea...

Another recycled email from the recent past:
Dan says: To me, it doesn't look like they planned ahead...odd mix of things happening here...

His sister says: I feel like Drew and Jennifer were appropriate because Ginnifer (is that right?) is supposed to be the star. This is her breakout movie...but Jennifer Connolly -- is this right?! Are there 3 Je(Gi)nnifers in this one shot?! -- is totally inappropriate and trying to steal the lime[sic]light. She looks like either the formal version of Peter Pan or the after effects of Whoopi Goldberg in that scene from Jumping Jack Flash.

Another sister says: I disagree with you both. If they had coordinated, that would have looked way too cutesy. I think they are mainly appropriate dressed for where they are in their careers. And, no one is the star of this movie. It's an ensemble. Jennifer Connelly is ridiculous, though. Nice JJF reference. If you see her by herself, it's even worse. She is so skinny that her shoulders look like they are padded and the ankle straps from her shoes are loose. It definitely screams anorexic!---

Back to Dan: I think her shoulders are padded...that's a look she seems to like a lot. I actually sort of enjoy Jennifer Connelly's outfit. Yes, it's crazy, yes, it's inappropriate in relation to the other chicas. Still, I like it in a weird way. Anyhow, what I meant was that they could perhaps have come up with a general color palette, perhaps even a key word/inspiration that could have subtely suggested that they thought about the fact that they'd be standing together. Let's take a look at our ladies from Sex and the City for hints:

Ah...subtle, but it looks like they all had an idea of what was appropriate and what would look good together without compromising individuality, oui?

Ooh, nice job Desperate Housewives...again, similar styles, nice arrangement, and easy on the eyes, but not cutesy/matchy.

Compare these two groups to our old freakshow at the top...I don't like Drew's bow thing, otherwise its ok. Truthfully, I'm just relieved she doesn't have her big ass bouffant this time (why does she continue to appear in interviews rockin' that drunk crazy hair?). We've already discussed skinny leprachaun, Aniston is ok, kinda boring - looks more late show than premiere outfit. Ginnifer's dress is cut strangely at the waist and too short - looks like she's going to go on a bike ride in Brooklyn and then Scarlett....ugh. That dress looks like sherbet vomit on vacation and her hair is so blah/ugly.

Hello

Welcome to Dan On The Street (I say this begrudgingly; don't misunderstand my intentions here). I'm skeptical about blogging. To be honest, I haven't had a positive opinion about many. If it weren't for my sister, Katie, I wouldn't have started this blog (and I'm starting to think I shouldn't have). This blog began against my will through good old fashioned force and coersion. My youngest sister, Katie, decided that she no longer wished to miss any of my e-mails; she was afraid she wasn't CC'd on some of the best. It's true that I take great care and pride in drafting a good e-mail. I like details, I like quotes, I like digressions. The art of a great e-mail is one I take very seriously. Because some of my emails often go to one but not all of my friends and family, my sister insisted that I start this blog to catch & compile my thoughts so that they may be enjoyed en masse.

For my first post, I'm recycling one of my sisters' favorite emails:

In the summers, I help a good friend, Molly, sell baked goods at the Park Slope Farmer's Market on 5th Avenue (every Sunday in front of the Old Stone House - delicious). I typically join Molly, her husband, Ronan, their baby, Jude and often her bro (my friend), Pat every Sunday I can. One weekend last year, my cousin, Anne (hey Anne! feel free to add to the story), came down to the market yesterday to join us. Anne lives in Florida, but used to live here in NYC, just below Molly and Ronan. After the long, hot day, Anne and I wanted to have some dinner in Brooklyn before heading back to Queens. Molly, being culinary inclined and a pizza fanatic, recommended one of her favorite pizza places in nearby Carrol Gardens - Lucali's. She told us she'd even drop us off so we'd have no trouble finding the unmarked restaurant on an otherwise unassuming residential street. She pulled up to the shop, we unloaded bags of bread and flowers collected at the market, said our goodbyes and moseyed up to the door.

To say we were greeted by the very distracted hostess is an overstatement. She was more interested in answering the phone than taking our request for a table. She scrambled in and out of the front door frantically taking calls, making calls and shooing away requests for take out orders while Anne and I organized our things and waited patiently on the bench outside. After about 10 minutes of confusion (does she see us? does she know we're waiting for a table? did she see us and not like us? is this a pizza place or a mob club?) she took our name and phone number and encouraged us to wander the neighborhood for 30-45 minutes. She assured us she'd call us when a table was ready. We left, we wandered, we found a place to use the bathroom, we griped about a store with home made crafts that were overpriced, all the time skeptical that the hostess would actually call us. She seemed more likely to give the next free table to the next homeless bum who happened to wander by then to pick up the phone and call us in. Nevertheless, we were pleasantly surprised when she called us and gently suggested we head back to the restaurant for a table opening soon.

Anne and I picked up the pace. My anticipation was growing, not necessarily for the food as much as for a seat and a Diet Coke. When we got back to the restaurant a small crowd had gathered and the hostess was even busier than before; it was becoming clear to us that this place was popular in the neighborhood and had an excellent reputation. We waited patiently for our table and took stock of the crowd - largely hipster couples and casually dressed families. But one man stood out - he was tall and fit with close cropped hair. He wore a beautiful, well tailored suit and had an earpiece with a cord that curled behind his ear - he looked remarkably like a Secret Service agent. As he approached the restaurant, he was joined by a large, bulky bodyguard. Together, they were quite a sight and soon we realized that whomever they accompanied was the owner of a ridiculously opulent limo/car that was parked a few spots down the block. It all seemed sort of out of place, but neither of us saw anyone nearby that looked like a match for that level of attention and protection. Although just minutes before they had turned takeout orders away, the hostess and two waitresses were now doting on the two men - offering to bring them two pizzas and a bunch of drinks... It was annoying that they were so attentive to these two, and we were a bit perplexed but, we dismissed them as security for a foreign dignitary - we assumed these dudes were just running some errands. We even joked that Obama must be in town and we must have just missed the action.

A short time later we were sent to a corner table right by the front window. We settled in just before a rain storm and ordered pizza with little knowledge of what was available (no menu, just instructions to choose between pizza or calzones and to pick our toppings). The place had a cool vibe - dark wood tables and chairs, bare bones decor, low lights, mostly candlelit - including the work area where a man slowly and methodically prepared fresh pizzas as if he were a magician staging tricks for a small, rapt crowd. The whole place was filled with a haze of flour dough and smoke from the wood burning oven. It was sort of creepy, but cool - if there weren't so many happy, chatty people in the place I would have gotten a sinking feeling that I was going to be asked to convert to a mystic religion devoted to the praise and worship of wood stoves, tomatoes, ricotta, and flour dough. We were pretty excited about the pizza to come - even if the waitress encouraged Anne to seek out drinks at the corner store instead of bothering to tell us what was available besides Pepsi, Diet Pepsi and water (perhaps there was nothing else).

We casually chatted at our table for 15 minutes, caught up on family stuff, talked about work and traveling...was nice and the space was relaxing. Before the pizza came, i decided i should use the bathroom and scope out the place on my way back - survey the crowd. Seemed like just your average Brooklynites - but still there had been so much fuss...I was thinking, wow, this place is interesting...only a hook eye for a bathroom door lock, a pull string to flush the toilet - they really took this gothic-mysticism seriously. I thought, oh, that's cool - piles of wood on chair for the stove, and look over there - bowls of tomatoes and cheese and hey - there's Jay Z and Beyonce seated at that table for two closest to the chef and what's that on the... wait. Beyonce!? Jay Z?! I'm pretty sure I did a true double take! There, framed by candlelight and a snowy ether of pizza flour were two of the most glamorous people in the freaking world! It was like an issue of People magazine live, in front of me! Jay Z - just how you expect him to look - cool, calm, groomed, casual. Beyonce - big beautiful dangly earrings, hot metallic purse, banging bod! They're laughing! They're talking! They're catching up on what happened earlier! They're enjoying a long, casual meal! Suddenly it all made sense - the flashy car, the secret service agent with the earpiece, the huge bodyguard... I couldn't believe it! Anne and I had been sitting 3 tables away from one of the most powerful couples in the world of entertainment totally unaware! It was nuts and no one seemed to notice or care at all! We were shocked! Needless to say, the rest of the meal was spent casually craning our necks and plotting to find an excuse for which Anne could wander in their general direction. The pizza was great - not the best I've ever had, but tasty nonetheless. The atmosphere was very cool - worth seeing for sure. But after our sighting, Beyonce and Jay Z stole the show!

The place: http://events.nytimes.com/2006/11/29/dining/reviews/29unde.html
The proof: http://www.newyorker.com/online/blogs/goingson/2008/04/pizza-pop.html
Apparently they're big fans and regular customers: http://nymag.com/daily/food/2008/04/blogger_got_booted_from_lucali.html
And apparently, they're not the only ones...who knew?: http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/brooklyn/2008/08/04/2008-08-04_schools_chancellor_joel_klein_lauds_luca.html