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+ STYLE IDOL+ A River Phoenix Runs Through It . . .

river phoenix

Wicked and wild. Gorgeous and full of life.

You can see sometimes in the eyes of this strange boy; a burning fire that piercing your soul. Even past the screen, beneath the surface of every photograph of him, there is a brilliant mystery still waiting to be discovered and the very depth of the man named River Phoenix.

He was the most beautiful child you’ve ever seen, like a little Elvis.

-Iris Burton, River’s manager

 

River Phoenix - Stand By Me- Vintage Style Idol

River Phoenix - Academy Award Nomination Ceremony- Graphic Sweater- Cool Guy- Vintage Style Idol

martha plimpton and river phoenix- academy awards- vintage style idol

It’s more the history of these awards that is so special to me . . .

His acting was top notch, and before the age of …. he found himself nominated for an Academy Award for Best Supporting Actor with dozens of offers at his feet thereafter.

Fame was of little consequence to him, though, and instead he sought a life of refuge from the hustle and bustle of the business. The industry was not the priority, and from his very core, River was an undeniable artist who not only excelled in the art of acting, but was also an accomplished musician, humanitarian, environmentalist and animal rights activist.

River Phoenix - Prada Meinhoff- The Eye of Faith

river phoenix surf god

You’ll never find him fur or leather as he was the original vegan style star- before it was in vogue or a trend. He had a soft and sensitive heart for world issues, the future of our planet, and most especially the well-being of animals.

While we think of the 80s for all its excesses, River appears the total antithesis to this vision of America. Even with his popularity and success, River defied typical Hollywood standards through what he wore; appearing at major red carpet events sometimes in only a graphic T-shirt, or a cool graphic sweater.

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River Phoenix is Fierce- Vintage Style Idol

river phoenix contemplates- the eye of faith

Martha Plimpton and River Phoenix- Hollywood Grunge- Vintage Style Idol

river phoenix looking GQ- Vintage style idol

"Batman" Los Angeles Premiere

Plaid shirts, graphic sweaters, denim jackets, patterned shirts, and over-sized blazers were a staple for the young star, whose quirky style seems right in tuned with the vibe of the street today. And yet we probably never even realized that River Phoenix made his mark over twenty years ago in the same garbs we rock today.

Perhaps this was indicative of his adventurous heart, the way he dressed. A co-star in probably his most accomplished and enigmatic acting effort, My Own Private Idaho, Jimmy Reardon described a moment the two shared together shortly after filming the 90s art-house flick about a narcoleptic male hustler decked out in pure grunge glory:

One time we were up in the mountains, and the clouds came right up to the top of the mountain. River grabbed (my) arm and said, “We’re going to run and jump into these clouds and our whole past lives will dissolve, and everything will be new from then on. Hold on.” And we did that…it was incredible, and we landed on this soft iceberg kind of ground covering. But we jumped through clouds, literally.

It’s hard to imagine a star today who could even imagine being as fearless, but that’s just how River really was. Fearless.

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Born River Jude Bottom, River grew up in a religious cult in South America known as the Children of God. He was named River after the river of life in Herman Hesse’s Siddhartha, and Jude from the Beatle’s song. When their parents found that they were being embezzled by the cult and its leaders, they uprooted their children and moved to California where River was soon getting noticed for his movie star good looks, even as a boy.

He quickly began to take interest in acting and modelling, and it wasn’t long before his career took off. No one could deny the boy. He had a special edge that he never let go of until the very end.

Edward Lachman, superior director of photography for ‘Dogfight’ said:

 When I first met River, he had very long hair and he struck me- as he came out of an elevator-as an angel, some kind of supernatural being. An angel could be Gabriel, but an angel could be Lucifer too. He could as readily delve in to the deep dark recesses as he would fly up to the lofty, illuminated (places).

Certainly a zest for life was a strength of River, but it would definitely come into play with his tragic demise most mysteriously on Halloween night of 1993 at friend Johnny Depp’s bar – The Viper Room.

There is no doubting his talents, but there’s also no doubting the foolishness of getting involved with people who do not have your best intentions in mind. River was the unfortunate victim to a brainless party mentality that is ever prevalent in our society. Was it really worth it in the end?

River Phoenix- This Road Will Never End....

river phoenix death

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I don’t want to die in a car accident. When I die it’ll be a glorious day. It’ll probably be a waterfall.

-River Phoenix

This year the world was shocked by the death of another young star who kicked the bucket at the expense of his family, friends, fame, and fortune – Cory Monteith, who died of an overdose much the same way River did. Heroine and alcohol. The same toxic cocktail that took the life of many more before them including Amy Winehouse,  Jim Morrison, and Janis Joplin.

It’s sad, so very sad, because these stars possessed such a zest for life and original spirit that didn’t need to compensate with heavy drugs and alcohol to make life interesting. They could have been resigned to just be themselves, and love every second of that.

River Phoenix- Bleach Blonde Cool- Vintage Style

This is why our advice at The Eye of Faith has always and will forever be to be yourself. Your truest self, beyond the effects of drugs and alcohol, you can have the most exciting and amazing life. You try to tread the line between reality and dream, and you can do this easily with the power of style and conjuring your idols to give you an extra boost away from the common day to day.

 “You would have thought we was ninety and had died in his sleep. The people who were saying this felt tremendous guilt that they had contributed to his death.

He’s already being made into a martyr. He’s become a metaphor for a fallen angel, a Messiah. But he wasn’t. He was just a boy, a very good hearted boy who was very $%##$% up and had no idea how to implement his good intentions. I don’t want to be comforted by his death. I think it’s right that I’m angry about it, angry at the people who helped him stay sick, and angry at River.”

-Martha Plimpton on River’s death.

We recommend this state of mind for all days and occasions, to keep you safe and elevated beyond the strife of the street.

Most people don’t know, but River was also a talented musician in a band called “Aleka’s Attic”. Here’s one of his songs to send you off with. Hope I gave us all something to think about, and some wicked new vintage inspiration for the road!

Also his long lost last film has been released for the first time. Check out the trailer here.

 

 

Don’t forget that XIXIXI gets you 25% Off in the {SHOP}

You can totally GET THE LOOK, as we have dozens of individual time travelled articles that will serve you well 

to invoke the spirit of River Phoenix. Above all, don’t forget to be yourself!

A little inspiration never hurts, though . . . 

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So you don’t miss out.

 

Until next time,

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Elvis Deluxe- Wicked Pompadour Wig

E.O.F. Snapshot of the Day {August 30, 2013}

dirk dubois

{ “MUSCLES” Magazine – 1940s/50s (?) – Dick Dubois }

This is some exquisite work on all fronts. Check out the beautiful art direction here. It’s pretty much the epitome of the “lost in paradise” feeling we’re always yearning for here at The Eye of Faith. The colors are magnificent and romantic and beautifully thought through.

Then there’s Mr. Dubois. Dick Dubois. Looking mighty awesome even to today’s standards. In fact I feel like I know guys that would rock those denim shorts, and have that awesome curly, sweeping hair-do – but I’m not sure if any of them have the true body of a Greek God. You have to give it up for these heroes of our modern world. They leave people for us guys to look up to. Is here anything wrong with that?

Best part is people think that this kind of buff man persona is something new invented as of late by surf culture and materialism in the 80s, but it’s completely not the case. Men have always been obsessed with the male form and the male figure, and it has always dominated our world.

That’s why I can equate him to a Greek God, because that’s essentially what their statues were – just depictions of perfection that had been achieved by mortals. Mostly athletes and wrestlers, maybe warriors-  just like these men; Probably athletes (possibly aspiring actors) and young disbanded war vets (the odd criminal, too).

We all deserves our idols. Worship them for strength.

Such a cool cover. They really don’t make ’em like they used to.

Too fucking cool.

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So we have been going through a rough time here at The Eye of Faith, and there have been some sad events that have occurred that have prevented us from providing to our global audience as much as we should or like to. But I hope that we can still keep providing you all with our inspired content and continue bridging the gaps between the {PAST} {PRESENT} & {FUTURE}

Please feel free to DONATE if you have the chance….there’s a button on the right side bar in bright yellow that says “DONATE”. Click it and give what you can….

Help ensure both our {FUTURE}s

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If not, no worries. But, you owe me another visit!

Until next time,

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Elvis Deluxe- Wicked Pompadour Wig

“The Old Man on the Corner” by Waldo Tomosky

Waldo Tomosky is one of our regular visitors here at The Eye of Faith, and wished to share this short story with us, citing it as both unique and divine – two very important words we hold close to us here at The Eye.

We couldn’t agree more, and decided we’d share it with you all here at The Eye of Faith.

This story entitled “The Old Man on the Corner” plays off Waldo’s own memory as a boy living in a small town, and how the simplest things in the world can come to be the most profound in the end….

+ THE OLD MAN ON THE CORNER +

by Waldo Tomosky

There is a state that is not what it used to be. There is a village within that state that falls into the same category. Families have an obligation to prepare the next generation for a better life. Political regions apparently do not have that same obligation.

The village has a city name; Johnson City. From the period of my first memories of village life, until the time when I entered the army, I always remember one specific street corner.

At one time a large store was located there. If my memory serves me correctly it was a hardware store. I do clearly remember, I am sure, that to enter the store you had to climb three massive concrete stairs that wrapped around the entire front.

The store no longer exists, due to a fire. A silvery aluminum diner was finally placed on the site. It has always been called the “Red Robin Diner.” But this story is not about inanimate objects; it is about people, or, more succinctly, it is about one man. This man was one of several that were, and are, always located on that corner. Their faces change and their manner changes but they are the same men.

They are retirees, older men living off a pension, a government dole, or off their savings. When I was young they sat on an old wooden bench that was painted red. It probably belonged to the village. The men smoked, and talked about something that I was never privileged to hear. They also had a bottle of something or other that was wrapped in a brown paper sack. In between cigarettes, or cigars, they would pass the sack around and each man had a swig of whatever was hidden in it.

They were nice friendly men. There were no loud voices or harsh words. They simply enjoyed each others company and nodded “hello” to the folks that passed them by. A nice toothy (or toothless) grin usually accompanied the “hello.”

I previously stated that the story is about one man. Possibly my memory has played some tricks on me over the years and this one man is a composite of all the old men that have located themselves on that corner. It makes no difference. This singular or composite soul was friendly, cheerful, unshaven, had a hole in his pants, and his shoes (that were once meant for work) were never polished. Yes; that is a good analogy. His shoes were like he was, unpolished but substantial, faithful, ready to serve.

This man smoked a pipe (in between nips). It was not a beautiful meerschaum pipe. It appeared to be made of briarwood and had a plain shape. He lit his pipe with what us youngsters called “farmer matches.” They were not your modern safety matches. They were more functional for a pipe smoker. The matches were singular (not in a pack) and had a hefty piece of wood (not the cheap paper stick that we now use). The heads had a section to burn and a section to strike. The striking portion was on the end and was typically white in color. Once struck, the burning section would be ignited which in turn would set the hefty wooden stick aflame.

Once again we are not here to compare the old with the new but rather to set into motion the details about this old man and his wooden matches. Keep in mind the attributes of this old man. He was wise, somewhat the worse for wear (as we all would be if we had completed the tasks that he had), a little unkempt, but most importantly he loved the people around him. In fact he loved them almost as much as he loved lighting his pipe. I really believe he enjoyed lighting those farmer matches. He was constantly at it.

The match would appear from nowhere. He would be inspecting it before the casual observer even knew he had one in his hand. The old man would test the wooden section for sturdiness. Then he would spin it between his fingers and inspect the white striking end. This would be followed by an inspection of the secondary lighting section (which was usually red but sometimes blue). Once he was satisfied, the match would be struck against some hard surface. The striking end would burst open into a star like pattern with other minor star patterns being created from the original one; then additional star patterns were created from the secondary ones. You could never tell how many star patterns were created due to the fact that it happened so fast. Yet, you knew that several patterns existed before they died out. At that same moment the secondary fire (blue or red; it makes no difference) would occur. This would create yet another burst of energy that exceeded what was necessary to light the pipe. The old man would keep the creation at a safe distance until the wooden section was on fire. Only at that time would he light his pipe.

I must repeat that he appeared to enjoy lighting the matches as much as smoking the pipe. I say this because he would always use about five matches for every pipe-full of tobacco. Additionally, his eyes would gleam with joy whenever he lit a match. It was not the gleam of a pyromaniac but rather the gleam of someone who created something. He appeared proud like a new father, or, had that “ah-ha!” moment of someone who had a new insight. It was something that I never understood but always was amazed at observing. How could an old man on a corner get such satisfaction out of lighting his pipe?

It was only when I had my own “ah-ha!” moment (years later) that I understood the old man on the corner. The ceremony of the pipe was his creation yet every time he accomplished that act he knew exactly what would occur. Oh, I don’t mean that he knew how many star patterns there would be, and he sure didn’t know what was located on those minute cinders that resulted from the burnt out star patterns. He only knew that he could create them and that the results would take care of themselves. It was only natural that there would be star-cinders, flame energy and gases, and finally the wooden stick that would serve as the means to the end.

Therefore I believe that somewhere beyond all the galaxies, their stars, the gases, the unbridled energy, the cinder-like asteroids, the unknown black holes, there is an old man standing on a corner lighting his pipe. There is, most likely, a hole in his pants. There may be some friends that he shares nectar with; although I can not quite picture it being hidden in a brown paper sack. He is friendly and benevolent but does not care to guide our every move. He simply likes to create a stir with his farmer matches. He loves the explosive star patterns, likes to watch the flames and gasses that are created by the red and blue sections, and is somewhat disappointed when the wooden section finally burns out.

He knows that he will need to re-light his pipe in a few minutes and also knows that the residue of the last match will have to take care of itself. He doesn’t know that we are riding on one of the smallest cinders and that we treat the last burning ember of the striking ember as the center of our system. Time to him is irrelevant. Time to us is in light-years.

We have made such a big thing out of someone lighting a pipe. It is really very simple. We do not know (and will never know) where the beginning and end is. It is not really our beginning or our end; they are His matches and His pipe. So therefore the creative act of lighting farmer matches goes on. The center of the sphere of sparks is everywhere yet nowhere. The length of time for a match to exhaust itself is both future and past (of which neither really exist). Yet we continue to attempt to identify the past through something we call history and the future through something we call science.

It is just an old man lighting his pipe.

© Copyright – Waldo Tomosky

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Waldo has a lot more where the came from over at his blog, so please check it out!

Sincerely,

{theEye}

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Boy Scout Style Now!

With the ‘coming’ Apocalypse, or just the change of season, any man could benifit from the skills shared by the Boy Scouts of America (BSA). Even a pocket knife could be enough to save your hide.  Nothing compares to the skills and trades of these wilderness boys, who abide by their own strict moral code. We must admit our love of scarves, so you may understand our intrigue with the uniform of a Scout.

As families moved to settling America, many organizations began forming across the country to help raise children in the changing world. Since its founding in 1901, more than 110 million americans have been members of the Scouts. BSA had two notable predecessors in the United States: the Woodcraft Indians started by Ernest Thompson Seton in 1902 and the Sons of Daniel Boone founded by Daniel Carter Beard in 1905 in Cincinnati, Ohio.

In 1907, British General Robert Baden-Powell founded the Scouting movement in England using elements of Seton’s works among other influences. Several small local Scouting programs for boys started independently in the U.S., soon after, many of these programs merged with the BSA.

Militant style.  Cool boyish attitude. Scarves and swagger. These boys got the moves like jaggar. Go for a clean look and save tradition. Boots and pressed shorts, with a crisp collar and red scarf can keep that look true to the Scouts mission if your feelin’ fresh. Or do your own thing and add some personal flaire, use an ignigmatic pattern or print in a scarf, don’t worry about colour, as long as you keep that insinuation of camping in a uniform with a boyish quality, everybody will look toward with as their Saviour.

Of course a world with all boys and grown men seems unquestionably controversial, and it has proved to be over history. Declared in Scout Oath and Law, the boys are obligated to be ‘morally straight and clean in thought, word, and deed’ to discourage homosexuality, and girl’s are not allowed to join at youth level, but could volunteer as leaders as older women, so not to obliterate a woman’s influence all together. When a member of any organization, one must expect a certain conduct required. The BSA contends that these policies are essential in its mission in the traditional programs to instill in young people the values of the Scout Oath and Law.

Scout Oath:
On my honor, I will do my best
To do my duty to God and my country;
To obey the Scout Law;
To help other people at all times;
To keep myself physically strong, mentally awake and morally straight.

Scout Law:
A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.

Scout Motto:
Be Prepared

Scout Slogan:
Do a good turn daily

Outdoor Code:
As an American, I will do my best, to be clean in my outdoor manners, to be careful with fire, to be considerate in the outdoors, and to be conservation minded

We understand the sentiment of the Boy Scouts of America, and wish more people complied with some of the codes of conduct. Being more courteous and cheerful, and always safe with fire. Let’s all take a nod from these fella’s and be considerate of our outdoors, and feel confidant in standing up for our values and goals! You won’t need badge, just get out today and be kind to someone, and be part of something larger than yourself.

Will you be gettin’ out there, whether it’s down the street or into the woods to do a good turn??
-The Eye

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