Mixed reviews

Drinking material

Today at lunchtime downtown they were giving out free samples of Coca-Cola Blak (warning: cheezy audio). I'd been a little curious about the stuff – Coke and coffee? Mixed together? Could be genius, could be disaster – but not enough to pay for it, so of course I accepted one for the sake of science.

My first impression was that it tasted like coffee-flavored candy. I like coffee-flavored candy, but I don't think I've ever consumed 8 ounces of it at a time. It didn't remind me of Coke at all, except that it's carbonated. I'm not generally a huge fan of sweet drinks, and this stuff is very very sweet. That's why, when I glanced at the nutrition information, I was surprised to learn one bottle has only 45 calories. A closer look at the contents answers the question: High Fructose Corn Syrup is (of course) the second ingredient, but it's also followed further down by Aspartame and Acesulfame Potassium. Jeez, why not add a smidgen of Pestilence just to get all four horsemen of the apocalypse into your trendy new beverage? This might be the unhealthiest substance on the planet. Shortly after finishing the drink, I noticed a vague throbbing sensation in the middle of my head and idly wondered how many (or rather how few) of these I'd have to down before I began hallucinating.

A neat thing about Coca-Cola Blak, however, is that it comes in a glass bottle. I wasn't expecting that. It's shrink-wrapped in a plastic label, but once you peel that off you've got a classic 8-ounce Coke bottle. It's clear instead of green and lacks any printing, but for those of us on the lookout for craft supplies, those are bonus features.

My verdict: Tastes good for an occasional treat, but you may regret drinking it. Container is a class act – but you might be better off digging through the garbage if you want to collect them.

Reading material

I picked up the premiere issue of Adorn magazine the other day. It was everything I expected…which isn't entirely a good thing.

My first disappointment – I can't really call it a letdown – was opening it to the very first page and seeing an ad for sneaker paint. (Go see Art School Confidential. Right now. Trust me.) The magazine bills itself as "the crafty girl's guide to embellishing life". Its focus is very much on adding ornament and decoration to stuff you've bought, rather than on creating things. Well, of course, what do you expect from a publication called "Adorn"?

I recognized a couple of contributors' names – people making it big on the web craft circuit. Good for them. Congratulations.

The format is smaller than a standard magazine, but I quickly got sensory overload looking at it. The trimmings added to everything. The big fuzzy textured oversized accessories. The festivities of kitschy festive kitsch and the self-conscious rock-n-roll themed projects. The bright, bright, BRIGHT colors everywhere. I've left the house at times sporting just one or two of these recommended looks, and by the time I get out in public I've had a keen awareness of oh my god everyone's staring at me because I look like a fucking clown. I want to warn young, impressionable readers to back away from the magazine. Take a class in pattern drafting or screenprinting or something. Cardboard stencils and spray paint will not make a respectable imitation of a designer original garment.

And then there are the associations my mind makes with the title. Adorn. Dorn. Adorno. Adorno. But maybe that's just me.

When I heard there was a new craft magazine coming out, I hoped for something that would bring a new level of quality craftsmanship into the mainstream. But I wasn't holding my breath. Much more likely was what we got: Lowest-common-denominator, beginner-level jumping on the "crafts are trendy" bandwagon. Which – don't get me wrong – has its place and its significant target audience. Lots of people will get lots of good ideas from Adorn, and more power to them.

Will I buy the next issue? Of course I will. Because I am a total sucker for these things.