The New First Ladies

When Mary Todd Lincoln was in the White House she used to hold seances.  Everyone thought she was a nut case.  Well, here's a better one.  Miyuki Hatoyama, the wife of the new Prime Minister of Japan, has been to Venus.  She says it is very green there.  She also says that Tom Cruise was Japanese in another life and they know each other.  She is waiting to go to Hollywood to meet him, at which point he will greet her with the nonchalant "Hi, it's been a long time"! and then they will make a movie together.  Could I make this up?  It's all true!.

Miyuki Hatoyama

There was a time when being First Lady of anything meant posessing a certain sense of decorum and poise. 
Bess Truman, Bernadette Pompidou, Mamie Eisenhower?  Talk about staying in the background.  Practically invisible.  Now we have a guitar strutting model in the Elysee Palace who used to sleep with Mick Jagger, and a hot, smart, hula hooping mom in the White House.

I tell you - what's this world coming to?  Well I'll tell you - smart women are no longer listening to men.  They are doing their own thing and loving it.  Why didn't we learn this years ago?  When I was young we had to take Home Economics classes.  That's where you learned to make whoopie pies and sew a straight seam.  What they didn't tell you was that you were going to subjugate yourself and become someone else's slave for a good thirty or forty years.  Now that's Home Economics.  I wish I could have gone to Shop class.  At least that way I would know how to run a band saw.  No one had ever washed my socks, or folded my towels.  My sister makes her husband do his own laundry. Brilliant!  And he does it!  I always said my brother-in-law was a saint.

But cooking and sewing aren't enough.   We burden ourselves with pets, other people's children, car pools, baking cookies, hosting the perfect birthday parties, ridding ourselves of fat stomachs, making a fabulous tarte tatin, and bringing home the bacon.

And then they expect us to look good too.  And if we don't they will just go and grab another gullible woman.  Gird your loins ladies.  Grab your swords, put it on the line and say NO!  You'll be amazed at how good it feels.

Are We Having Fun Yet?

Last night I went to two parties.  Lucky me.  At the first one I knew everyone, but hadn't seen them in a long time.  At the second one I knew noone and went around introducing myself to people who were aghast that a stranger should come up and shake their hand.  I thought I was rather sparkling, jovial and happy.  Looking pretty good too, I might add.  Not bad for an old broad.  I think I like this life.

Most people live their lives as part of a twosome.  Bob and Pat, Jim and Sarah, Jane and Mike, Tim and Andrew.  It becomes like a one word description.  For 35 years I was part of that silly convention.  But now I am me.  Just me, with a whole new life ahead of me.  It's taken a long time, but I have shed that other half.  And good riddance to selfish assholes.  Let someone else deal with a dishonest partner.  Not me.

James Brown singing "Sex Machine" loud off Pandora (a fantastic invention, if you don't already know, pandora.com).  My daughter says it's like living in a night club around here.  That's just the way I like it.  Now if there could only be some cute guys offering to buy champagne I would have it made. 

Do we ever grow out of that feeling you get when a handsome man or woman that you are attracted to walks in a room and your head whips around to take a second look?  It happened to me the other day.  Whoa!  Pheramones, chemistry, or just plain sex appeal, it never ceases to amaze me.  It's not unlike that horrifying rush of adrenaline that I feel when I see a child go too close to the edge.

Go ahead.  Take a chance.  Do something that noone would expect you to do.  However, I would advise you not to do anything that Paris Hilton or Lindsay Lohan have done,  They are SO predictable!  Here Paris has broken two rules - no Africans, especially in costume on a set, and do we really need to see your underwear?  I'm sure that the photo was taken on Paris' last trip to the jungle, and who wouldn't bring along a fur stole?  The fact is that Cassava root makes a fabulous anti-cellulite treatment and these lovely ladies are obviously preparing some for her barren thigh.

                                                                         

Now Lindsay is another story.  That poor girl has got some trouble.  Yesterday I heard her father commenting on her new boobs - in prime time!.  Which one is worse? Father or daughter.  Put them both together and you have one dysfunctional family.  I should talk.......

The whole reality TV thing has gone way too far.  Thank God for cable.  All of the main stream networks are creating ever more ridiculous shows.  My favorite recently has been "Dating in the Dark".  I've never watched it but I have seen the commercials where some dude with night vision goggles is watching two people making out in the pitch black.  What is the point?  That you are such a whore that you will kiss someone who is down right ugly?  Or that men are such gullible idiots that they will fondle anything that breathes.

It all comes down to money - the great equalizer.  Money from the advertisers, money for the "contestants", money for the giant flat screen TV, money for the crew...  Making reality TV is cheap!  That's why it's so pervasive.  Bring back Gilligan's Island.  Cheap set, one camera and one bimbo.  A winning combination!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cfR7qxtgCgY&feature=related

Be transported back to another time, when there were no worries, no bills to pay, no children demanding things, nothing but Bob Denver, Jim Backus and Tina Louise.  Those were the days.......

It's Out of Control!!!

This whole Halloween thing has gone way too far. Walking around the neighborhood I saw entire graveyards, trees festooned with orange lights, multiple ghools hanging from porches and ,my favorite, a tacky Italianate sculpture that is now sporting a cape and a mask.

When did this happen? When did Halloween become a money maker for anyone except the candy companies? The big Halloween decoration at my house when I was young was a sheet that was stuffed with leaves, tied with a string and hung in the tree in front of the house about an hour before the doorbell started ringing.  Now there are whole blocks decorated from top to bottom, rivaling Christmas.

After the ceremonial ghost hanging we went inside to blacken corks for the requisite hobo 5 day old beard or commandeered a particular yellow skirt of my mother's, a kerchief, and some earrings and voila! A Gypsy. Today we can't even call them Gypsies, they are Roma. Even the pets are getting into the act.

" 19th hole boys"?

Celebrity costumes are always a hit.  Last year it was Sarah Palin, I suppose this year it will be Richard Heene or the Octo Mom.  Some celebrities don't know when to leave well enough alone.  Octo Mom herself has a costume that she put on for the paprazzi the other day. 

The wombanizer as a pregnant nun.  Almost too good to be true.

My daughter visited one of those pop-up Halloween stores the other day to purchase an angel costume for the 1st grader she babysits.  $38  for one of those bagged costumes!!  What's the matter with a hanger and some cheesecloth?  The child's father thought nothing of it and asked my daughter how much we used to pay for costumes.  PAY?   Are you kidding?  I made a couple of red satin capes one year and they became devils.  In subsequent years they were Little Red Riding Hood, a magician, Superman, and some vague representation of a nasty Dick Cheney.

These days you've got to be careful about being P.C.  No more Indians, either American or Asian, I think pirates are on the cusp.  Even President Obama and Condoleeza Rice are verbotten.  Once I was a flamenco dancer.  Think that Europeans are still OK.  So let's recap.

North Americans - OK

South Americans - not allowed

Europeans - OK

Asians - not allowed

Australians - OK if immigrants (?)

Antarcticans - penguins OK

Africans - never, under any circumstance

So in the end it probably safest to just dress your pet up and walk him or her around the neighborhood. 

                                                                          

Balloon dog .

                                                                       

Brother Leader and Style Guru

And who's the guy tied in a white sheet?

The votes are in and the hands down winner of this week's fashion icon award goes to Libyan President Muammar el-Qaddafi.  There is little narration needed for you, his adoring public, to see that this guy has got STYLE!  I I think he is his own designer, because if a real designer brought some of these clothes into his office I don't think he would see the next day's breakfast.

In his sartorial splendor he puts other world leaders to shame.  It's hard to tell where he gets his cues telling him what to wear for certain occasions.  But there is one accessory that he has all to himself.  He has the world's only armed harem.  It doesn't take a genius to see that these chicas are the ultimate multitaskers.

                                                                                                                                                                                     

                               

                                       

Quite the feminist is our Muammar.  Promoting women and women's rights throughout Libya.  How forward thinking of him to train these crack shots for combat.  One even took a bullet meant for him a few years ago. He's created a feminist paradise where women can have it all - and him too.

When President Qaddafi was in New York last week he traveled with his tent,  being the good Bedouin that he is.  Unfortunately, New York City would not give him a permit to erect it in Central Park, so he called on his good buddy Le Donald, who rented him some real estate on his property in Bedford. NY.  He was right down the street from Martha Stewart, who stopped by with a luscious lemon cream pie and some decorating tips for the tent.  She thought that the tent poles were rather "unsightly" and suggested using some of Muammar's wardrobe for a drapery effect to disguise them.  One of the bodyguards got wind of this scheme and threatened to use Martha as a basting brush until Martha reminded her that she was "down with her homies" and that she had spent time in the Big House and knew a thing or two about tough broads.

                                                                  

Note the stylish camel print on the walls.

One more accessory tip from Muammar.  When he visited Italy in June of this year he pulled the uniform from the back of the tent, supersized the medals and added a photograph pin that depicted Omar al-Muktar, who was hanged by the Italians in 1931.  A nice endearing touch for our friend President Berlusconi.  Of course Berlusconi couldn't object, since Muammar had invited him back to the tent that evening to get to know the bodyguards on a more personal level.

                                                                                

                                                                         

"I'll stop by the tent around 8."

                                                                          

"The September Issue"

Anna & Leon at the Philip Lam show

Most likely to succeed:  Anna Wintour

Class Brain : Grace Coddington

Class Clown: Andre Leon Talley

For those of you who grew up devouring your mother's Vogue Magazine, this is a must see.  Perhaps you have spent countless hours, as I have, going page by page through The Bible with your sister, friends, daughters, imagining that some day you would be able to actually be able to afford that fantastic Valentino suit, or Lacroix dress.  Forget it - it isn't going to happen in this lifetime.  All the thrift store rummaging and making over your grandmother's suits just isn't going to cut it in this rarified world.  My friend, who is an architect, saw the docu-drama with me.  She said that putting the Sept. issue together was not unlike building a house, where there are disagreements, clients and prima donnas to placate.

There was a time when stars were stars, based on their beauty and acting ability.  Take this legend of the silver screen, Julie Christie.  A very classy act.  68 years old!!!!  Tell us Julie, what is your secret you look mahvelous!

  "The September Issue" makes it very clear what we have all fogotten, that there was a time when celebrities did not sell couture.  The pages of Vogue sold couture, and on models whose names you probably didn't know except for Veruschka, and a few others.  Now there was a model.  She was really the world's first super model. and super she was, with legs about 7 feet long and an exotic pout that didn't exist on this side of the Atlantic.  That's when glamour was unattainable for us plebians.  Not only weren't we able to afford it, we couldn't even relate to the people who were wearing it.  Twiggy???  Knock-offs didn't exist. There was no H&M, no Forever 21 or anything like it.  If you wanted it, you bought it, or you made it.   I went through a period in 9th and 10th grade when I made a pair of pants every weekend so I could have something new to wear to the dance at the church.  That's when I wasn't wearing a Marimekko dress with white fishnets and clogs.  That was just after I got over the go-go boots and tank dresses.  About the same time as the paper dress.  I wore one to a dance one night and after two or three hours of doing the frug and the swim it just fell apart from perspiration.  I had to call for a ride home, or get detention for indecency. 

Now who do we have to look up to as our fashion icons.  Madonna, looking like she just left a garage sale on the West Side?  Little Kim, complete with holster and Cranshaw melons in her bra?  There's got to be a happy medium somewhere.  "The September Issue" won't give you all of the answers, but at least it will give you a hint at how our small minds are manipulated into thinking that pink goes with red.

The Pope Wears Prada

Say what you will about the Catholic Church, the head honcho is turning out to be the style icon of Vatican City.  He reportedly favors Prada shoes and Gucci sunglasses.  Here he is in his favorite red Prada loafers.  He is also bringing back some retro papal vetements including a fur trimmed cap called a caumaro that was last seen in St. Peter's Square a few centuries ago.  It has also been reported that he found a cape in the back of the papal costume department, red, trimmed with ermine, that is waiting for the right occasion to pull out.

Also today, Sarah Silverman has posted a video with a brilliant concept to feed the world - sell the Vatican!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3bObItmxAGc



How simple, generous, and fun would that be?  Can you imagine what they could get for the condos with balconies?  No more starving children, just Silvio Berlusconi and his latest pre-pubescent charmer watching his TV stations in the former papal chambers.

Here is the Prime Minister with the condo board trying to convince them that the young things revolving in and out of the second floor chambers are his neices.  Cardinal Bertoni (the one with the skull cap)  is thrilled with his good luck.  It's been such a long time since there were young nubile girls showing their stuff in the Vatican.  The usual motley crew usually wears wimples and has their eyes downcast.  When the girls are not flashing the crowd from the balcony they can be found with the Prime Minister at his retreat, where clothing is stricktly optional.  Come on, this is Italia.  Hair plugs, facelifts, aren't they all part of La Dolce Vita, and isn't that what Silvio is there to represent.  Hey, this is a hard job, setting the style for the rest of the country.  La Bella Figura!!

Our intrepid reporters, Mr. Ram and Mrs. Ewe have managed to infiltrate the party disguised as a Loro Piana cashmere sweater and coat.  Here's what they have to report:

Q: What do they serve for refreshments there at the villa?
Mrs. Ewe:  Well, I was rather unwhelmed by the choice of beverages.  Lemonade, Perrier (not even San Pellegrino) and some lousy Charles Shaw merlot.
Q: How about the food?
Mr. Ewe: Well, after the nice shrimp cocktail (it was on one of those Costco platters) they actually served baby lamb chops!  I think I recognized my Italian cousin Bernardo and his sister Nicoletta.  They always had a lot of fat.  They get that from their father Giambattista, who swears by the Alpine grasses.
Q: How about the guests?
Mrs. Ewe:  Well, they loved my sweater.  Who wouldn't ? Lora only makes her garments from the finest cashmeres.  I'm kind of thinking about keeping up this appearance.  There were lots of attractive, busty, young women and a couple of guys in Speedos who kept snapping each others suits.  As a matter of fact, I saw Sr. Berlusconi  behind the bushes with them a couple of times, doing things that they usually accuse us sheep of indulging in!
Thank you Mr. Ram and Mrs. Ewe.  I suppose you'll be heading home to Iceland now.
Mr. Ram:  Well, yes, but only to pack a carry on bag.  Now that I've seen Roma, you're not going to keep me back at the lava dome!  We'll be baaaaaaack!

Say what???

In the Incredible But True department, which is just down the hall on the left, is this photo, courtesy of my friend, comedian Joey Villagomez.  Now I love the Dollar Store, but steak???? That's taking the saving money thing way too far.  Very scary.

Next up from the creative types in the Incredible But True Dept. is this photo of La Michelle in her best hula hoop form.  I wonder if they gave her one of those weighted ones, which make all of the difference when you are going for the record.  They say she made 142 revolutions.   I won the hula hoop contest at our office Christmas Party a couple of years ago, but I cheated, I did it around my neck.

Now I ask you, would you have ever seen Laura Bush or Betty Ford out there on the lawn, not only hooping it up, but also clapping and thoroughly enjoying herself.  What does all of this mean for the rest of America?

Walk down the street in any American city.  The slovenliness and girth of most American women is astounding.  How can they be so rotund? The news recently has been full of stories and statistics about how uphappy women are and how they do all of the work of childraising, housework, homework, cooking, etc. AND they hold down full time jobs. Just managing a household with children should be enough to make most of us drop a few lbs.  Did we really need a Time Magazine poll to tell us this?  Men have definitely received the most benefit from the sexual revolution of the '70s and '80s.  They haven't changed a bit!  They still play golf for eight hours on the weekend, still leave their socks on the floor, still are clueless about children's schedules, and still pretend they don't know where the laundry detergent is kept. 

And yet they still won't pass ERA.  This image is from my favorite artist in the universe, Susan Baker, of Truro, MA.  As you can see, it was done in 1988.   Not much change there.  Ah, those were the days, marching down Michigan Ave. with LaDonna Harris, Gloria Steinham and Betty Freidan leading the parade of thosands of outraged women.  NO RESULT.  If we put Susan's slogan into practice, things would change lightning fast!

Yet, here is La Michelle.  Beautiful, smart, poised, with the belt going on at all times around that fabulous body.  She even has the girls make their own beds.  They seem like happy and well adjusted children despite the pressure of living in the White House.  I hope that some of her healthy eating prose does rub off on the American women who are killing themselves each time they put a Double Whopper with cheese in their mouths.  "Hey, can ya SuperSize it"?

Beauty and the Beast

Beauty need not be expensive. A little imagination can take your food, your clothes, your hair, and almost anything else to stylish heights. Take this simple salad in the never used martini glasses your sister gave your husband for Christmas 10 years ago. When I had my yard sale a few weeks ago I realized that I was selling things that could have been made into any number of eye pleasing delicacies.

Here is the mundane Bento Box. A staple of Japanese cuisine since the 14th century. Look what's in it. Some pasta shells, some edamame, some salami, maybe cheese, an egg. A perfect lunch! How tres chic to show up at the office and eat that at your desk. Your co-workers will be jealous, amazed, and generally won't know what to make of you. The bento boxes themselves are available in any large Asian market or on line. Almost makes you want to diet. Besides, sushi rolls are now available in most American supermarkets. As long as you don't buy ones with raw fish they will keep for a couple of days in the refrigerator. I was recently in a small rural town in Massachusetts, where my mother insists on shopping at the local Price Chopper, because she can get .10 - .20 off a gallon of gas if she buys enough Stouffer's Macaroni and Cheese. Even there there was a Japanese woman making fresh sushi. Add a roll to your bento box and stick it in the fridge. A cheap and beautiful lunch.

Now for the Beast. Last night I was on my way to a meeting and found myself with some time to kill so I stopped into the Sears store that was next door. I freely admit that other than appliances, I have never shopped at Sears. In fact the appliance dept. even has a separate entrance so I never saw the hideous and over priced clothing that they carry. I think most of it was designed by the same guy who designs the vacuum cleaners. They had horrible looking print blouses for $50, when the saps who were shopping there could have just walked across the parking lot and found something stylish and well made at Marshall's for $16.99.

I briefly considered telling them about Marshall's or at least posting some signage, but common sense got the better of me (a rare occurrence). Beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder, but some eyes need corrective lenses.

All eyes on the bust for fall...

Now for the look that will knock them off their feet at your next job interview. Talk about getting noticed! This from Fall Louis Vuitton. Their eyes will definitely be on your bust - that is if you have one. The jacket looks reminiscent of one I have in the attic that I will need to dig out. Large shoulders, shapeless and long. Definitely not what is in my current use closet. I'm not really sure I want to see it again, but one must suffer for fashion. The bra and bust issue is less easily corrected. I saw Suzanne Sommers on the Today show this morning. She got the thigh thing down, but you could probably use the Thigh Master in your arms. If not, do what someone I know does and just wear three bras at once!

I talked last week about the new showing from Rodarte. This from the sisters Mulleavey. Everyone has a terrible old leather jacket in the back of the closet. Or a black leather pencil skirt from when they were a size 0 (when was that exactly). Why not cut them up and add them to a pair of existing black leather boots or little black dress. Voila! Louis Vuitton. Well, not exactly, but from a distance perhaps. A hot glue gun with a delicate hand is indispensable here. Watch out for the fabric that you are adhering the leather to. It may just melt under the heat of the glue. And forget about ever washing or dry cleaning the item again.

Halloween is just around the corner. If you don't want to sacrifice something in your attic, get thee to the thrift store. Make a test outfit. You'll find all kinds of leather pieces that noone can fit into anymore. A dominatrix look is always a hit at parties. Remember when Suzie wore the dominatrix costume on "Curb Your Enthusiasm"? Larry made Cheryl wear a burka.

Speaking of "Curb". Last night's episode was definitely the best one of this season. Larry dates two women in wheelchairs at the same time and one makes reference to the fact that they always hang out with Steven Hawking. Very, very, bad Larry, but very funny.

Mr. Bill Cunningham vs. M. Karl Lagerfeld

This romp in the hay has been joyously reported today by Bill Cunningham, the "On The Street" reporter at the NY Times. It depicts the recent Chanel show in Paris for which Mr., Lagerfeld built a barn in the Grand Palais. Only Mr. Cunningham calls it a "bahn" and each Sunday he transports me back to the Boston of my childhood. When I need a "fix" of New England I can always count on Bill Cunningham.

Not only is he usually right on about what he sees on the streets, spotting trends and absurdity, but he does it with panache and just the right touch of tongue in cheek. At eighty years old he rides his bike around New York City reporting on a different subject in a narrated slide show every week. It could be cute young men on their way to work with no socks on, absurd women's shoes, a color focus or rain gear. But I always come away with a much better sense of what to wear than I get out of the pages of Vogue, where they would have me in a full length Little Red Riding Hood cape and 6 in. crocodile booties, with some La Perla underneath. Not really practical.

Take today's "On The Street". Cunningham focused not on the Chanel show going on inside the Grand Palais, but instead on the totally chic Parisians who turned out at 10:30 to gain entrance to the show. One of the trends he spotted was removable organza cuffs tied with ribbons over beautiful black suits. I think I'll try to make some. Some years ago I bought some purple fur cuffs in Milan, which I still wear with black sweaters. I don't know why the trend was not more wide spread, but they still serve me well.

My daughter introduced me to a web site today - esty.com. It's where you can buy and sell handmade merchandise very easily. I've been trying to think of something to put up there, being a crafty, do it yourself, kind of gal, and once again Mr. Cunningham, you have come through with the answer. Merci beaucoup!

Isn't Family Grand?

Morticia Addams had it right. She is seated, beautiful, calm and collected at all times, while around her swirls this mass of insanity. Do you remember the episode when she asked some visitors "Do you mind if I smoke?" Then her chair started smoking. I try to be cool, calm and collected when the almost ex husband comes over and pretends that everything is OK and we are a perfect little family. But last night when I told him it was time for him to go home he looked a little confused.

My daughters and grand daughter are all here for the weekend and last night Ostrich Man decided that he was going to cook dinner for us and a couple of their friends. It really was an hysterical evening. Lots of reminiscing. The things they did when they were younger.... my personal favorite game was "Orphanage on the Appalachian Trail", combining camping out, building small fires, and creating a woeful existence in the orphanage. Then there was the game of "China", consisting of climbing over the stone wall (The Great Wall) and hiding out from marauders behind my neighbor's garage.

Of course these games had nothing compared to the one my sister and I used to play in our tree house, affectionately known as the "Pirate's Captain's Club". I'm not quite sure where that name came from but it obviously combined our love for pirates with some superiority complex. Where were the Barbies we were supposed to be playing with? They just weren't our thing.

Then one day two mean boys, Charlie and Alan, came and knocked it down. The Pirate's Captain's weren't so brave that day, hiding in the porch instead of brandishing our swords at them. I know lots of mean boys these days and I'm a lot braver now. Where's my saber???

City of Glittering Lights

Wouldn't this be a fantastic use of some of the less hospitable parts of the Chicago River. Only in Paris would they build these two glowing orbs, each with their own mutiplexes, cafes and outdoor terraces. Daley Lite has never been shy about stealing ideas from other cities, especially when they are prominent Sister Cities. You remember the hanging baskets of flowers, his beloved wrought iron fences, and now our very own Promenade Plantee (already given the much less romantic name Bloomington Trail). Can the public bikes be far behind?

I love creative urban architecture. Rem Koolhaus' tunnel that encases the elevated train tracks that bisect IIT is brilliant. Yes, they cost a little more money but they are crowd pleasers. That's why I really hope that Calatrava gets his spire built. Anyone can put up an ugly Trump Tower - but a spire curving up touch the clouds and even break through them would truly please all of the ground and air travelers.

The just completed Olympic bid was wildly expensive to pull off. I know that there were millions of corporate dollars already committed, should we have won. Why not use some of it to give us more Jaume Plensa - like fountains, and another Cloudgate. The the European IOC members who thought that Chicago wasn't "romantic" enough would have to be quiet. Or instead, just make sure that every child living in this ridiculouly sloganed - city of neighborhoods - has food to eat. Now that would make headlines!!!

Mummy's New Friend

June Bent is aboard the S.S. Willows and she has recently been awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor. She was (and is) a WASP. A member of the Women's Airforce Service Pilots, who flew bomber missions during WWII. How much better can it be? A WASP delegation, consisting of women bomber pilots and members of St. Mark's congregation.

Mummy has had dinner with her the past couple of nights. It just gets better and better on board the ship. It used to be that she had the stories to tell, but now here comes June. What a world of difference. Forget telling about your daughter's exploits - here's a woman who dropped bombs - and not the F bomb that I dropped recently. I want to be on the ship!!!!!! A world of fantastic women who all own unbelievable antiques and can afford to cruise about unenbumbered by the horrible men who were once in their lives.

That's My Boy!

I am so scared every time I watch him do this. But he is really good and I keep reminding him to put the velcro on his knees. HEELS DOWN. That used to be a joke, but now it is for real and he exists in this unreal world of beautiful horses and beautiful people. The people whose bags and t-shirts he used to collect are now his pals. And still a great young man. I wish that he was joining all of us in Chicago next weekend. But he lives in another world. Not our world.

Our world looks sunny when there is a farmer's market in the park and we can get tamales for $1. My dear friend and old neighbor came this morning and we planned to have breakfast at the New/Old Alps. There was a 1/2 hour wait! Are you kidding me? Instead we joked around with the community and then went to the Golden Nugget. I've lived here for 21 years and have only been there once. Now I know why. It was terrible, but it was packed with people living normal lives, coming home from church, taking a stroll on a great day, meeting their friends and neighbors, - just living. I intend to do more of that. But first I have to unclog the vacuum cleaner, wash the bathroom floor, and figure out what to make for dinner......

A day at Versailles would be great. A la hameau!!! (and the hats can't be beat)!

Beauty is in the mind.....

Which one is more beautiful? Karen Black or Clothilde Arroyo? I vote for Clothilde but only since I gave her a micro loan through Kiva. What a fantastic hat. Couldn't get away with that on Irving Park Road.

But Karen Black is fabulous for other reasons. I just watched "Easy Rider". The tripping scene is amazing. Dennis Hopper is so great and Peter Fonda is SO cute. Too bad that they did not have Clothilde for that scene in the graveyard.

Kiva is a site for micro loans that you can make for men and women who are trying to get by on subsistance wages in the third world. I have made a total of 7 loans in the past two years and each one of them has been paid off in full. For a mere $25 you can help a laundress in Azerbajan, a fish salesman in Ghanna, a consotrium of charcoal saleswomen in Kenya, a farmer in Samoa... It is the best $25 you will ever spend and you will get it back and be able to loan it to someone else. What a concept!

Go now! KIVA.ORG You won't regret it.

Fashion and Baseball.

Blogger: Riches To Rags - Manage Posts: "Fashion and Baseball



A Rod has got it going on. One of the few major league players who still wear the knickers and socks. Why would they wear their pajama pants to work? That's what all the yahoo players who wear their long pants look like. I ADORE this look. When Iworked for the Cubs it was all the rage. Now the players have decided that they need to wear baggy long pants. Terrible look!

Now we hear that there is new neckwear that has taken hold. Made by a company called Phiten (pronounced Fightin'} it is made of nylon, polyester and tatanium. It is supppsed to promote a greater flow of energy in the body. A greater flow could easily be obtained by showing off that cute tush in these knickers.

Although I am a life long Red Sox fan I can't really hope for them to make it in the World Series since NONE of the players have the gumption to wear the fantastic style that we long for! Who are their wives anyway? Don't they have any say in how their fit, adorable, muscular husbands look? Take it to the dump!

I generally loathe sports on TV. Hockey is the worst. The puck fies around so fast and the guys are so padded up that you can't appreciate them. Baseball is OK, especially during the play offs. Now I am generally a Yankee hater, being a Red Sox fan, but any time A Rod comes to bat I can't help but get happy. Who cares about his drug use? He looks GOOD.

What Makes a Happy Marriage?

We are supposed to have a freeze tonight. I guess that this year I will be trying to stay warm without the benefit of a man's flabby stomach nestling into my back. Do all men do this? Then that nasty hand creeps around to hold your breast. Just go back to sleep!!!

Why do we put up with all of this? Certainly not for the unwavering support and comfort that we all crave. The lucky ones get that from some cute guy they met at the dump. The dump is fantastic. If you are lucky enough to live in a rural town where you have a dump, try hitting it first thing in the morning when it opens. All of the trained husbands are there, dressed up, ready to go to work, but there they are with the smelly diapers and vegetable rinds. Nothing turns me on more than a man with a full plastic bag in his hands.

Santa: Do you know my address?

The Cupcake Car was revealed this week as one of Neiman Marcus' must have Christmas gifts, and here is the Jolly Old Man himself delivering it. Beats the Oscar Mayer Weiner Mobile that for many years I coveted.

I have moved on to bigger and better things and wish I could have a way to show them off. I just had a meeting with my attorney, who really admired my sweater. I was proud to say that the Family Thrift store had done it again. Marc Jacobs cashmere. Now she wants me to take her there. Do you think I could get something off of my retainer?

There's something about that hunt, that run for the great stuff that makes it so much more satisfying than walking into Bloomingdale's and getting something off the rack. Anyone can do that. In order to dress yourself from the thrift store you really have to have an eye and an imagination. Looking at the Paris shows this week I have become something of a cynic. The Dries Van Noten shredded fabric is so declasse. (accent egu needed). We don't want to look like tramps. We want to look like stylish beautiful women for whom the recession is someone else's problem. Take a pinch of daring, a good look at the shows in Paris, and get theyself some cootie garages. (It helps if you are 30, too).

Music is the best. It can really take you away from the horrible, mundane trivia that rules our lives. Also helps to have a great headpiece. See photo of my niece Aba wearing a truly fantastic chartreuse piece with shells at the bottom. Unfortunately, it seems to be missing. The men must have taken it. The photo was taken on the helm of the pilot house at Vantage Point. One of the greatest spots on earth.

One day we will all be together and laughing and having fun. But not today.

My mail lady, Gabriella, gave me a big hug today and asked about the For Sale sign in front of my house. I had to tell her why it was there and it made me sad. So music is bringing me back. Frank and " Fly me to the Moon" Let me see what life is like on Jupiter and Mars........

S.S. Willows

The deed is done. Mummy is safely aboard the S.S. Willows. This fantastic retirement community is just like being on a cruise ship except everybody has really big staterooms. Everyone is SO nice. Everyone wants to help. Everyone can afford to be there. Talk about a lack of diversity! But that's the way she likes it.

The question is what are we going to do when we get to be ninety? Social Security will probably have all but disappeared, our 401 k's will be worth nothing, our stocks will have tanked, and we won't be able to sell our houses. So once again Mr. Ram and Mrs. Ewe come out on top. Fantastic view, unlimited food, great fur coats, and no worries.

Q: What are your retirement plans?

Mr. Ram: Me and the missus plan to stay right here and live off the land. I told the young 'uns that they shouldn't leave for the big city, but Vik does have Wi-Fi. That's something we don't have here and they seem to like being able to keep track of their relatives who are going to slaughter.

Q: If you could go on a cruise ship, say the S.S. Willows, would that suit you?

Mrs. Ewe: I sure would like to get this fur done. I haven't had a trim since Easter. You know how they like their Easter lambs to be all pretty. I hear they even do some in butter! I think they do those kinds of things on cruise ships.

Q: Yes, they do - and anything else you could want. Kind of makes me want to be 65 and wealthy. Do you have any savings?

Mr. Ram: Yes, we put some grass away for the winter over by the lava dome. In terms of cash, we are kind of short, but yahoos come by and want to take our picture and we oblige, but ask for at least 10 kroner. Don't we look good?

Q: You look fabulous darlings. Is there any way we can get in on this gig?

Mrs. Ewe: Sorry, but you just haven't got the legs.