London, United Kingdom
"In 1950 out of sheer necessity, my husband Mr. Harold Morris and myself went into business as Industrial Clothing Specialists. 
Gloverall of London were the first clothiers to make the traditional Military and Naval Duffle coats available to civilians … In the 1950-60’s the Gloverall Duffle became a sartorial Symbol of Social Renegades. Angry young men, art students, and Beatniks favoured the Duffle coat.” — Excerpt from the Gloverall Story.
We had the honor of collaborating with the eternal English clothier for our Ace x Gloverall Duffle Coat — an update on a true British classic. It’s a thing of beauty, and you can find it here. 

London, United Kingdom

"In 1950 out of sheer necessity, my husband Mr. Harold Morris and myself went into business as Industrial Clothing Specialists. 

Gloverall of London were the first clothiers to make the traditional Military and Naval Duffle coats available to civilians … In the 1950-60’s the Gloverall Duffle became a sartorial Symbol of Social Renegades. Angry young men, art students, and Beatniks favoured the Duffle coat.” — Excerpt from the Gloverall Story.

We had the honor of collaborating with the eternal English clothier for our Ace x Gloverall Duffle Coat — an update on a true British classic. It’s a thing of beauty, and you can find it here


January 10, 1949
The vinyl record was born today. Pick out a good one and play it loud. 

January 10, 1949

The vinyl record was born today. 
Pick out a good one and play it loud. 


After all a cup is really only a small plate with its collar up.

A Technicolor study of English pottery, the skill of the potter and the modern mechanized factories of the legendary Wedgwood, hosted by British Council Film.


Today is a very, very good birthday.

Today is a very, very good birthday.


“There were many patients in these asylums who were probably not unlike friends you and I have now.”
Time capsules in the form of forgotten suitcases from the Willard Asylum for the Chronic Insane in New York State from 1910 to 1960, photographed by Jon Crispin. The mysteries therein illustrate the neglected and essentially denied humanity of many of that era’s (and sadly this era’s) mentally ill. Of course, in the early, mid and even late 20th century, you could be deemed mentally ill if you were gay, politically dissident, a midwife, an herbalist, or just unusual — and who isn’t at least one of those things? For now, their identities are concealed by the state even from living relatives, but we have bobbins and photobooth pictures and guns and pills and bells to which to listen carefully.
You can see more photos and stories about patients at Collector’s Weekly. The full collection is preserved in the New York State Museum's permanent collection, and is currently on view at San Francisco’s Exploratorium through April 2014, in an installation that explores the ‘changing face of normal.’

“There were many patients in these asylums who were probably not unlike friends you and I have now.”

Time capsules in the form of forgotten suitcases from the Willard Asylum for the Chronic Insane in New York State from 1910 to 1960, photographed by Jon Crispin. The mysteries therein illustrate the neglected and essentially denied humanity of many of that era’s (and sadly this era’s) mentally ill. Of course, in the early, mid and even late 20th century, you could be deemed mentally ill if you were gay, politically dissident, a midwife, an herbalist, or just unusual — and who isn’t at least one of those things? For now, their identities are concealed by the state even from living relatives, but we have bobbins and photobooth pictures and guns and pills and bells to which to listen carefully.

You can see more photos and stories about patients at Collector’s Weekly. The full collection is preserved in the New York State Museum's permanent collection, and is currently on view at San Francisco’s Exploratorium through April 2014, in an installation that explores the ‘changing face of normal.’


You can’t overestimate how exciting it was to be openly gay in San Francisco in the 1970s. I mean, Stonewall had happened in 1969, gay civil rights legislation was passing in different states, and, you know, for the first time you could love openly and not be considered sick, not be arrested. It was a very exciting, heady time…
Alysia Abbott writes about growing up with her gay dad in SF in the 70s in her new book Fairyland: A Memoir of My Father. As a millenium of civil rights struggles whirs into action before our very eyes — nascent advances are made, fundamental victories are threatened — it’s good to take a close look at those who brought us this far by demanding the right to be themselves.

You can’t overestimate how exciting it was to be openly gay in San Francisco in the 1970s. I mean, Stonewall had happened in 1969, gay civil rights legislation was passing in different states, and, you know, for the first time you could love openly and not be considered sick, not be arrested. It was a very exciting, heady time…

Alysia Abbott writes about growing up with her gay dad in SF in the 70s in her new book Fairyland: A Memoir of My Father. As a millenium of civil rights struggles whirs into action before our very eyes — nascent advances are made, fundamental victories are threatened — it’s good to take a close look at those who brought us this far by demanding the right to be themselves.

Fairyland Memoir

Fairyland Memoir


A gifted sculptor, Florida-born Augusta Savage fought poverty, racism and sexism to become a prominent figure in the Harlem Renaissance, the period of African-American cultural outpouring in New York City during the 1920s and ’30s. Her extraordinary talent opened many doors that led to her becoming one of the most influential teachers of her time and a strong voice for civil rights for African-Americans.
Born in Florida in 1892, she was the seventh of fourteen children born to Edward and Cornelia Fells. As a child, Fells exhibited a talent and a passion for sculpting small objects using red clay she found in her neighborhood. The habit often got her into trouble with her father, a part-time minister, who regarded his child’s handiwork as “graven images” outlawed by the Bible’s 10 Commandments.
Pictured here, The Harp, Ms. Savage’s legendary sculpture based on Lift Every Voice and Sing by James Weldon Johnson.
Read more about Augusta on this incredible blog about the history of slavery in the US, and watch a stock footage clip of Ms. Savage working in her studio.

A gifted sculptor, Florida-born Augusta Savage fought poverty, racism and sexism to become a prominent figure in the Harlem Renaissance, the period of African-American cultural outpouring in New York City during the 1920s and ’30s. Her extraordinary talent opened many doors that led to her becoming one of the most influential teachers of her time and a strong voice for civil rights for African-Americans.

Born in Florida in 1892, she was the seventh of fourteen children born to Edward and Cornelia Fells. As a child, Fells exhibited a talent and a passion for sculpting small objects using red clay she found in her neighborhood. The habit often got her into trouble with her father, a part-time minister, who regarded his child’s handiwork as “graven images” outlawed by the Bible’s 10 Commandments.

Pictured here, The Harp, Ms. Savage’s legendary sculpture based on Lift Every Voice and Sing by James Weldon Johnson.

Read more about Augusta on this incredible blog about the history of slavery in the US, and watch a stock footage clip of Ms. Savage working in her studio.


To kickoff our LGBTQ pride celebrations this June, we’re exhibiting Current Issues: The Gay Blade Vol. 1, No. 1-6, 1969 in the gallery space at Ace Hotel New York. First published in October of 1969 as a single-sheet, hand-distributed newsletter appearing in gay bars around D.C., it’s the longest-running LGBTQ paper in the United States, still running as The Washington Blade and named by the Times as “one of the most influential publications written for a gay audience.” In its early issues, we find reports on civil rights issues and police harassment, roommate and job referral services, invitations to community dinners, legal advice and classifieds ads. Grown from the vitality and perseverance of queer culture and community, The Gay Blade helped citizens organize in their struggle for equality, while both supporting and documenting the mundanities of everyday life and survival.
To see the full selection of early issues, and read more about the Blade (unrelated to Zorro), stop by the gallery and pick up your own copy of our handmade zine featuring some of our favorite issues.
Stay tuned for more on pride this month here.

To kickoff our LGBTQ pride celebrations this June, we’re exhibiting Current Issues: The Gay Blade Vol. 1, No. 1-6, 1969 in the gallery space at Ace Hotel New York. First published in October of 1969 as a single-sheet, hand-distributed newsletter appearing in gay bars around D.C., it’s the longest-running LGBTQ paper in the United States, still running as The Washington Blade and named by the Times as “one of the most influential publications written for a gay audience.” In its early issues, we find reports on civil rights issues and police harassment, roommate and job referral services, invitations to community dinners, legal advice and classifieds ads. Grown from the vitality and perseverance of queer culture and community, The Gay Blade helped citizens organize in their struggle for equality, while both supporting and documenting the mundanities of everyday life and survival.

To see the full selection of early issues, and read more about the Blade (unrelated to Zorro), stop by the gallery and pick up your own copy of our handmade zine featuring some of our favorite issues.

Stay tuned for more on pride this month here.


Vanport was a city of public housing — hastily planned and built — in Multnomah County, Oregon. The second largest town at the time in Oregon, and the largest public housing project in the nation, it was constructed in ‘43 to house workers of the Kaiser Shipyards during wartime, and was home to over 40,000 people, almost half African American. After the war ended, more than half of Vanport’s residents moved on, but many remained and an influx of WWII vets helped the makeshift city hang on.
Dramatically, and without warning, Vanport was roundly destroyed by flood this day 65 years ago when a section of the dike retaining the Columbia River collapsed during a flood. Fifteen people were killed and the city itself was completely underwater by nightfall, leaving all of its inhabitants homeless.
Oregon has a gnarly history of racist housing discrimination, and that legacy lives on today in so many subtle and not-so-subtle ways. At the time that Vanport existed, its cultural, racial and linguistic diversity rivaled that of present-day New York City. It was an anomaly, a firecracker, a happy accident, a big mistake, a setup for disaster, and, predictably, not well-protected by its government. The lack of care and attention paid by the county when Vanport flooded mimics the much-derided bumbles of our federal government when Katrina hit New Orleans.
The city, now vanished, has an incredible and rare history — read up on it today when you have some time, and let us know what you think, or if you were there and you have a story, send it along. For more in-depth reading, swoop up a box set of Oregon History comics by Know Your City (formerly the Dill Pickle Club) — Portland’s Black Panthers, Oregon feminism and the history of Chinatown are yours for the learning.

Vanport was a city of public housing — hastily planned and built — in Multnomah County, Oregon. The second largest town at the time in Oregon, and the largest public housing project in the nation, it was constructed in ‘43 to house workers of the Kaiser Shipyards during wartime, and was home to over 40,000 people, almost half African American. After the war ended, more than half of Vanport’s residents moved on, but many remained and an influx of WWII vets helped the makeshift city hang on.

Dramatically, and without warning, Vanport was roundly destroyed by flood this day 65 years ago when a section of the dike retaining the Columbia River collapsed during a flood. Fifteen people were killed and the city itself was completely underwater by nightfall, leaving all of its inhabitants homeless.

Oregon has a gnarly history of racist housing discrimination, and that legacy lives on today in so many subtle and not-so-subtle ways. At the time that Vanport existed, its cultural, racial and linguistic diversity rivaled that of present-day New York City. It was an anomaly, a firecracker, a happy accident, a big mistake, a setup for disaster, and, predictably, not well-protected by its government. The lack of care and attention paid by the county when Vanport flooded mimics the much-derided bumbles of our federal government when Katrina hit New Orleans.

The city, now vanished, has an incredible and rare history — read up on it today when you have some time, and let us know what you think, or if you were there and you have a story, send it along. For more in-depth reading, swoop up a box set of Oregon History comics by Know Your City (formerly the Dill Pickle Club) — Portland’s Black Panthers, Oregon feminism and the history of Chinatown are yours for the learning.


Abraham Lincolnhis hand and penhe will be good butgod knows When
Long before he was first endorsed for presidency this day in Decatur at the 1860 Illinois Republican State Convention, Abe Lincoln was penning verse in his sum book.

Abraham Lincoln
his hand and pen
he will be good but
god knows When

Long before he was first endorsed for presidency this day in Decatur at the 1860 Illinois Republican State Convention, Abe Lincoln was penning verse in his sum book.


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