I was giving a friend a ride up to a yoga conference last week (Shiva Rea by the way), and he climbs in my car at 6:20 in the morning and says “I’m surprised you drink that poison,” in regard to my Diet Coke sitting in the console.
First of all, it is 6:20 in the goddamn morning and way too early for food shaming, especially when I’m going out of my way to pick your ass up and drive you 100 miles. Second of all, along with corn syrup, hydrogenated oil, and gluten, apparently a fatwa has officially been issued against aspartame.
For some time now, I’ve been taking heat for the diet soda. Look, I know fake sugar is a deal with the devil. There is no free lunch. Studies. Cancer. The information isn’t exactly a secret.
But there is something particularly crackish about Diet Coke. She’s got her hooks in me good. I reduce, but like a bad affair, I just can’t completely quit my acidic, chemically liquid lover. It’s not like it’s news to any of you that I’m deeply flawed. This is just another daily example.
Until the peer pressure and social stigma force me to quit that diet slut, all you kombucha and coconut water sipping bitches can relax with the side eye. Enough with the food shaming sanctimony, because very few, if any of us, eat perfectly everyday. Those rigid freaks who do make super boring dinner companions. 
Though I am starting to know how a meat eater feels at a table full of vegetarians. In certain circles, I need to cover my Diet Coke can with a brown paper bag and take it to the alley. 
I got the sweetest email day before yesterday from Demeter Clarc reader Cora.
Cora, before you even get into formatting and hosting decisions, you have to ask yourself a hard question. Can you create enough content to nourish the site everyday? A website of this nature requires enormous commitment. If you want traffic, you must post. No excuses.
Personal taste dictates most formatting decisions. Despite numerous substantial offers, I’m not interested in selling advertising space. Demeter Clarc is an exercise of free speech. I’m against corrupting the site with commercial interests or renting any real estate to bottom feeders. When I recommend, it is important to me that the readers know that I’m giving an unbiased opinion free from agenda. I don’t do this for profit, so if you are looking to get rich, you shoulda written to Michael K. who is legitimately earning his living writing his genius (and personally inspiring) Dlisted.
Demeter Clarc comes to life through WordPress. It is relatively user-friendly and there are plenty of advice forums to help answer any specific questions. Once you get in and start working with the program, pick a theme – basically how your website will visually appear to the readers. I picked a very simple theme and removed even more of the default gadgetry for the super clean look. 
Demeter Clarc exists as a very specific artistic visual and written experience. That is why she is special and unlike other sites. Cora, find a way to boldly differentiate your site too. I look forward to your offerings. Please promise to keep me posted and thanks again for writing. 
Karl loosely referenced Rajasthan in a surprisingly rich and full Pre-Fall Collection for Chanel. 
Filled with wearable suits and new proportions for day, lux fabrics, and interesting beading, this show wasn’t filled with leftovers. It did what a Pre-Fall Collection should do: hint at a fresh direction.
Floaty and ephemeral at moments, dark, mysterious, and layered at others…
Congratulations Mr. Lagerfeld on one of the best collections of the season.
Azzedine Alaïa
Maxime Simoens
Susanna Venegas & Bill Gaytten for Christian Dior Couture
The Grandpappy at Chanel, Mr. Lagerfeld
Anne Valérie Hash
Giambattista Valli
Bouchra Jarrar
Gaultier 
Pier Paolo Piccioli & Maria Grazia Chiuri for Valentino
Elie Saab
Riccardo Tisci helms Givenchy.
Alexis Mabille
Giorgio Armani
Michelle Williams put a bird on it. 
Daphne Guinness and SJP in McQueen.
A disastrous Blake and shimmery Anna in Chanel (psst, saw it here first Feb 3rd). 
Newd hued for the youngsters.
This is not the couples portion of the pageant B. 
Madonna and that other Guy. 
Marc Jacobs and Robert Duffy send a nod of the knee to McQueen’s heritage. Tux on top, tartan down low.
The Christinas. Ricci>Hendricks
Kristen Stewart sliced through the party in Proenza Schouler.
Paltrow repped Stella McCartney.
More beige-y neutrality from Zellweger and Hayek (also in McQueen), but Salma’s just-fucked hair was the best of the night. 
JLO served severity and overkill. Bleeding Armadillo. 
An unexceptional showing from the supermodels: Gisele, Naomi, Carolyn, and Miranda. 
Hey Kayne.
Left and right this month stores are pleading with you to buy this and buy that. It’s fucking exhausting, and difficult to separate the worthy from unworthy. As you know, the recommendations here at Demeter Clarc are 100% commercially unbiased. I don’t get free shit and then tell you how great it is. Free shit is always great. Anyway, I digress. 
A couple years ago, I received a fantastic gift I didn’t even know I wanted. When the Kindle first came out, like many folks, I dismissed it for a variety of reasons. A book lover and collector, I mistakenly believed the Kindle would rob me of the tactile romance with the bound page. Furthermore, the last thing anyone wants to do nowadays is stare at another screen.
Thankfully, the purchaser only listens to about 50% of what I say and bought a Kindle as a birthday gift (despite my vocal knee-jerk skepticism). Without further historical narrative, the reasons the Kindle rules. 
You will read more for less money. New releases are typically $9.99 – $14.99. 
The screen isn’t like a computer screen, so stop tripping. It’s not reflective. The type is dark, clear, and easy on the eyes. A favorite feature is the ability to increase font size to avoid eye strain. 
Purchasing a physical book, when an electronic version is available, is arguably a waste of the earth’s resources. On a more personal level, think about your own environment. Do you need more clutter? (Paging A&E, we have a Hoarder.) Even worse, please don’t be that pretentious asshole that compulsively displays every book he or she has read (and several they haven’t) in an obvious effort to appear intellectual. 
Obviously, for travel, the Kindle is essential. Instead of hauling a bunch of books on the plane, all you need is your little buddy. Upon finishing one book, start another; no need to plug into a computer. The Kindle is a self-contained mechanism. The battery life is long and apparently keeps getting longer with each new and improved version. An early-adopter and heavy user, I still have the dinosaur prototype version. Other than a crack running through the keyboard, it works well in almost every capacity. J’adore my Kindle ya’ll.
