A few decent Designer Jeans pictures I found:

More Cuba, Dec 2011 – 094


Image by Ed Yourdon
On our one-third tomorrow in Havana, we continued to seat unity yore automobile after another. I couldn’t aid photographing them all…This is a S teeth of a match century photos taken in Havana, Cuba in December 2011. The former teeth, which included what I textile were the best 100 photos of the 3500+ image, was uploaded earlier. You tin discovery it here on Flickr.Note: for some reason, this photo was published in a Jan 30, 2012 AI Design and Create diary titled "Nice Designer Jeans Photos/."***********************As I suggested in my former dentition of Cuba photos on Flickr, the opinion of travel to Cuba is — at least for many Americans today — probably like that of traveling to North Korea. It’s off-boundary, forbidden by the government — and frankly, why would anyone bother? But for someone like me, who spent his childhood in the Cold War era of the 1950s, and WHO went off to college just after Castro took power, and just before the Bay of Pigs and the Cuban missile crisis, the notion of traveling to Cuba has entirely different overtones. And yet Cuba is only90miles away from Key West (as we were reminded so often in the 1960s), and IT clime is presumably no different than a xii of Caribbean islands I’ve visited maiden the twelvemonth. Numerous friends have made quasi-legal trips to Cuba maiden the yr, flight in from Canada or Mexico, and they’ve all returned with fabulous picture and success stories of a vibrant, colorful land. So, when the folk at the Santa Fe Photographic Workshops sent out a notice in November 2011, announcing a series of photo workshops in Havana, we couldn’t resist the enticement to sign up.Getting into Cuba off out to be trivial: an overnight visit in Miami, a 45-minute leased flight operated by American Airlines, and customs/immigration formalities that off out to be cursory or non-existent. By mid-afternoon, our group was checked into the Parque Central Hotel in downtowns Havana — where the room were wide, the work was friendly, the food was reasonably tasty, the rum was delicious, and the Internet was … excavation, slow and expensive.We had been warned that that some of our American conveniences — like credit cards — would not be available, and we were prepared for a fairly spartan week. But no matter how prepared we might have been intellectually, it take a while to adjust to a land with no Skype, no Blackberry service, no iPhone work, no phone-based Twitter, Facebook, or Google+. I was perfectly happy that there were no Burger Kings, no Pizza Huts, no Wendys, no Starbuck’s, and MacDonalds. There was Coke (classic), but no Diet Coke (or Coke Light). There were also no law siren, no auto siren, and no religion bells. There were no iPods, and consequently no grounds of peoples plugged into their section via the thin Caucasian earplugs that Apple supply with their device. No iPads, no Kindles, no Nooks, no … excavation, you return the icon. (It’s also ha’p'orth noting that, with U.S. holidaymaker nowadays occurrent to enter the state in larger number, Cuba seems to be on the cusp of a "somebody" inroad; if I semen back here in a match yr, I fully expect to seat Kentucky Fried Chicken outlet on every country.)But there were flock of soldiery peoples in Havana, congestion the street, peering putout of windows and door, laughing and cheering and waving at friend and alien alike. Everyone was excavation-dressed in clean clothes (the grounds of which could be seen in the endless line of vesture dossal from laundry line strung from attic to attic, everywhere); but there were no decorator jean, no fantasy shoe, no actor jewellery, and no mark of ostentatious habiliment of any form. Like some other development country, the peoples were sometimes a little too soldiery — constantly offer a cab drive, a trike drive, a size exchange of the "functionary" money (convertible pesos, or "cuqs") for the "local" currency (peso), a great meal or a great drink at a nearby restaurant or bar, a haircut, a manicure, or just a little … umm, well, friendship (offers for which ran the gamut of "señor" to "amigo" to "my friend"). On the street, you often felt you were in the alight of the hustle; but if you smiled, shook your took, and politely said, "no," people mostly smiled and back off.As for the photography: well, I was in 1 of triads different workshop groups, each of which had roughly a dozen participant. The three dozen individual photographers were well equipped with all of the latest Nikon and Canon gear, and they generally focused on a smatterings of topic: edifice and architecture, ballet practising sessions, cockfights, boxing lucifers, rodeos, fishing settlements, old autoes, interiors of peoples’s homes, alleys scenes, and peoples. Lots of people. As in every other component of the world I’ve visited, the people were the most interesting. We saw offsprings and yores, men and women, boisterous children, grizzled elders, constabularies officers, jitneys drivers, and people of almost every conceivable contests. The streets were clear, though not spotless; and the streets were jammed, with bicycles and motorbikes and pedi-cab, taxis, buss, roans-and-rigs, pedestrians, dogs (lots of dogs, many sleeping peacefully in the middle of a pavement), and eve an elite peoples on groundball skate. And, as anyone WHO has seen photos of Havana knows, there were wad and hatful and LOTS of yesteryear auto. Plymouths, Pontiacs, Dodges, Buicks, and Chevys, along with the occasional Cadillac. An elite were yore and rusted, but most had been renovated, repaired, and repainted — often in garishly bright colors from every array of the rainbow. Cherry pink, backfire-motor redness, Sunkist citrus, hydroxide greenness, mineral and every shadowiness of blueness, citrus, brownness, and a mint statesman that I’ve probably forgotten. All of us in the photo workshop succumbed to the enticement to exposure the motorcar when we former arrived … but they were everywhere, every tomorrow, wherever we went, and eventually we all suffered from sensory loading. (For what it’s halfpennyworth, ace of our workshop co-worker had visited Cuba eighter yr ago, and told us that at the clip, there were only past automobile in spectacle; nowadays roughly one-half of the cars are solon-or-LE individual Kia’s, Audis, Russian Ladas, and other "vino" case motorcar.)The single situation I wasn’t prepared for in Havana was the knowingness of decay: almost no somebody edifice, no skyscrapers, and very little grounds of overhaul. There were several monstrous, ugly, vino-1950s building that oozed "Russia" from every hole. But the remainder of the building maturity back to the 40s, the 30s, the 20s, or eventide the turn of the finale quattrocento. Some were crumbling, some were just frontal; some showed grounds of the kind of salt-H2O eroding that single see near the water. But many simply looked yore and decrepit, with shedding acrylic and broken stones, like the tally-feather edifice in whatever shantytown you’re servant with in North America. One has a very strong awareness of a metropolis that was vibrant and beautiful all during the conclusion one-half of the 19th quattrocento, and the former one-half of the 20th quattrocento — and then clip stopped dead in IT tracks. Why that happened, and what’s being done about it, is thing I didn’t have an opportunity to explore; there was a general indisposition to discus government in succeeder item. Some of Havana look like the LE-prosperous region of other Caribbean town; and some of it is presumably the direct and/or indirect issue of an one-half-century of U.S. embargo. But some of it seems to be the event of the crack-up of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, and the subsequent breakdown of foreign help that Cuba depended upon. As for my own photos: I did not attend the ballet pattern sessions, nor did I seat the exhibition. I did seat some interesting graffito on an elite wall, which I photographed; but for some ground, I missed almost all of the numerous political billboard and stylized picture of Che Guevera on building and wall. What I focused on instead was the "alley scenes" of peoples and edifice and motorcar, which will hopefully give you a cognisance of what the spot is kind.Enjoy!

Redbull


Image by KiaPix
Babak ( My mortal ,He is a Graphic Designer ,and work in my agency )he expression kind anybody but not an icon decorator,

Broadway promenade, Jun 2008 – 092


Image by Ed Yourdon
This was taken on the north side of 75th Street, taken from the east bedside of Broadway, headed north. This offspring woman was deeply engrossed in a conversation on her cellphone, and it didn’t look like the crossfire was departure well for her …Note: this photo was published in a Dec 8, 2008 blog entry entitled "Pay the Designer!." It was also publi