Tomorrow Andy and I are finally going to see Black Swan. I’ve been looking forward to seeing this movie for a long time, and I only hope it doesn’t suffer the same fate as Tom Ford’s A Single Man - an excellent movie slightly marred for my viewing by excessive accolades prior to seeing it. I’ve purposely kept myself away from much of the Black Swan press just so I can see it with an unbiased, hype-free point of view, but I’m afraid it’s too late as some of the visuals are just too stunning for me not to want to love it from the get-go. And as most of my life goes, the more I want to love something, the less it seems it wants to be loved by me.

But this has been a year filled with Swan Lake (as evidenced here and here), so it’s a fitting end whether loved or not. Besides, I’ve been in deep-like with Natalie Portman since The Professional, and her performance here is said to be a revelation.

{The above photo is of a Crate & Barrel couch – the Petrie sofa - which is under serious contemplation…}

I don’t know if it’s the sunny sitcoms of the sixties (I just sat through a few Bewitched episodes on DVD at Andy’s urging), or Charlie’s house in A Single Man (the lemon tree walk-through, the half-circle couch – how could she be so unhappy?), or the stylish goings-on of Mad Men, but I’ve finally come around to appreciating and enjoying the retro-modern feel of 50s/60s furniture fashion. Andy has longed for a couch in such a style, but I’ve resisted because they just didn’t look comfortable. (Odd, as I’ve always embraced style over function.)

There’s no easy way to pinpoint or explain such shifts in style preference, and it used to drive Andy crazy that I was so changeable, but he’s learned to accept it. My style shifting is far less drastic than it once was (there was a time when my bathroom had a new coat of paint every other month, and my comforter changed with the seasons) but I still get antsy when things get stagnant.

Which brings us to the next new thing in our home: a couch. I’d love to see a simple make-over of the family room in 60’s modern style, centered around a low, tufted couch in Tiffany blue, and for once I think it might intersect with Andy’s taste. That would mean redoing most of the room, however, except for the coffee table, and we’re in no position to do so, but I’m always at my best when planning ahead – and a dream can become a wonderful goal.

{Above is exactly what I’m looking for, albeit in a different color. This version is available from Mitchell Gold + Bob Williams and is called the “Dexter” – which also happens to be one of Andy’s favorite shows, but I’m guessing it’s prohibitively expensive – I’ll find out for sure this weekend in Boston.}

Ever since Tom Ford wore a knit tie to the premiere of A Single Man (see above and below), I’ve been looking for that particular accessory to go on sale, and it finally did this past weekend. I picked up two, because when I’m really excited about something, I tend to go overboard.

What struck me most about Mr. Ford’s choice was the fact that he usually prefers an open shirt, sans-tie, to show off his chest hair.

In his case it works (in most others it doesn’t: See Simon Cowell).

I’m not sure how I feel about his insistence on trying to make these sunglasses work, and would rather he lose them, and everything for that matter, in favor of a simple towel for snapping.

(For those smart cookies who think this is just an excuse to post a salacious photo of my hero/idol Tom Ford naked, you may retain your cookie designation.)

Andy and I saw ‘A Single Man’ last night. If I were asked if I liked it immediately after it ended, I would have said no, it was disappointing. However, like many great movies (and some amazing songs) it has since haunted my head, and I find little remnants of it replaying themselves in my mind, lending a resonance and fullness that I hadn’t noticed upon my first viewing.

It was most moving when it showed how the relationship between the male lead and his partner of sixteen years was more real and profound than most of the marriages around them, yet how isolating and alone it became in a time when being gay meant being invisible.

In an age where we still have to fight for gay marriage, where ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell’ will likely be on the books for the next few years, and where a gay kiss can’t be shown during the Superbowl, I wonder how much has actually changed.

All I know is that I’m grateful that Andy is with me, and I can’t - and would never want to  - imagine a life without him.