Not A Very Merry Christmas

DAHLINGS -

This is the first Christmas I have spent without my beloved Bucky. Every year I would post a greeting from the two of us. This evening my eye fell upon it in a file and I wept. I am weeping now. The loss of this dog has been more of a blow that your faithful correspondent could have comprehended. Much of the first half of 2011 was spent mired in grief. (If you think this prose is a tad purple, tough.)

After the death of a loved one, there is the dreaded firsts: first birthday, first anniversary, first Thanksgiving, and now, the first Christmas.

Fletcher is sweet, albeit as neurotic as as a boxcar of Baldwins. But of course it's not the same. It can't be the same. I love him, but you cannot compare months to years.

Next month will be the anniversary of Bucky's death. If you don't hear much from me, that's why. Reviews of "House" might be the only things I write in this blog-thing.

Then again, I could post one sentence or picture a day, and pretend this is Tumblr.

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and whatever it is Buddhists do at this time of the year.

Elisa

A Small Meditation on Grief

DAHLINGS -

Yesterday would have been the ninth anniversary of the day that Bucky the Wonderdog came into my life. He died mid-January, and I have been dreading June 27 for weeks. As I anticipated, I spent much of the day in tears, which Fletcher the puppy was hard-put to understand.

There have been a great many losses this year. As you know, I do not divulge personal details about myself. Unless it is about my sex life or my great beauty.

Grief has taken its toll on me, and on this blog. I have failed my readers by failing to provide content, letting slip my part in the zeitgeist. In part it is because I cannot care about the usual matters that obsess moi. Rien enlève le chagrin. Interests and people will snatch one away for a short period, but then that’s over and it’s mourning in America. (Or at least New York.)

On Twitter I can be as carefree as I want, in 140 characters. An entire entry does not have to be composed. I don’t seem to be able to do that right now. There are many topics I wish to write about. The New York Senate bill legalizing gay marriage filled me with joy, as did attending the Gay Pride Parade. I wanted to snatch off half of the drag queens’ outfits. There is no such thing as too much sparkle.

Leo has been no help. He has this damn cat he lost in childhood and if I so much as mention Bucky he bursts into tears and isn’t good for anything the rest of the day.

I could say the same for myself. Here in front of my monitor, I sit, crushed, uninspired, sad.
But, as Scarlett O’Hara said, “tomorrow is another day.” Or rather, Margaret Mitchell did, but let’s not confuse the young ones.

Ciao,
Elisa sans Bucky the Wonderdog

Bucky The Wonderdog, In Remembrance

Bucky in his leather phase

Bucky unwillingly modeling his new raincoat

Bucky watching me pack

Bucky demanding love, as always.

Bucky The Wonderdog, Rest In Peace

DAHLINGS -


I shall keep this short. Bucky the Wonderdog, after having a series of health problems, including chronic bronchitis and an enlarged heart, died of heart failure early Monday morning, January 16th. He could no longer breathe, and so my beloved dog was euthanized in my arms.


You shall not be hearing from me for a while. I am beyond devastated. He was my closest companion for over eight years, and died too young at the age of nine.







Rest in peace, my beloved.

Ciao,
Elisa sans Bucky the Wonderdog

I Needed To Post SOMETHING Before the New Year!

DAHLINGS -

I am utterly ashamed of myself, but the holidays have proven happily overwhelming, so I have not paid the attention I should to this blog-thing. To make it up to all of my faithful readers, I herewith give you The Agonizing Death Of An Insect:





If only Bucky the Wonderdog knew how to do that...or perhaps operate a video camera...

Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the Wonderdog

Merry, Merry Christmas, Dahlings!

The Mad Fashionista Has Returned

DAHLINGS -

This will only be a short entry. Suffice to say that the last few weeks have been quite frustrating.
My cough was so severe that I could not even dictate to my assistant (the office moron, not my fabulous New York Fashion Week assistant!). Then, she claimed to be sick herself, and has not returned. So once again, I must contact the employment agency. What is wrong with all of them? I do my best to exercise nobless oblige, but to no avail.

In coming days, I shall finish posting my belated thoughts on New York Fashion Week, and other, more current events. But for now I must ring for the maid. My prescription cough medicine awaits.

This brings the wishes that all who are reading this are in good health, and wishing me a speedy recovery.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog*

*Who has been a major consolation in my time of need, unlike others.

Happy Thanksgiving!

DAHLINGS -

It is that time of the year in which we pay tribute to all we are grateful for. I am not above that sort of thing, so here are some of the things I am grateful for:

1. Bucky the Wonderdog
2. My striking beauty
3. My gorgeous blonde hair
4. My plush figure and lovely legs
5. My high intelligence and keen perception
6. House, MD
7. Fashion and Fashion History
8. Red dresses
9. Oscar de la Renta
10. Silk chiffon
11. Croissants
12. Mojitos
13. Caviar
14. An assistant who doesn't balk at signing a confidentiality agreement
15. A staff that can actually do their jobs with a smidgen of competence (a pipe dream, I'm afraid)
16. My hordes of friends
17. My hordes of enemies (keeps life interesting)
18. Hats
19. All food except green beans

May you all have a wonderful holiday weekend, surrounded by as few relatives as possible. Personally, your faithful correspondent is going to stuff herself until she's ready to explode, and NEVER say, "Oh dear Lord, I need to go on a diet!"

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

I'm In The New York Daily News, Dahlings!

DAHLINGS -

Today's New York Daily News has an article about people who want to be on reality television, including moi. (It is my dream to have a makeover show called "You Have No Taste!") Here is a link to the Internet version:

http://tinyurl.com/yhx5ccl

It has a lovely photo of your faithful correspondent, but the full newspaper article has a full-length shot of yours truly, along with Bucky the Wonderdog! (Sorry for the poor quality, but newspaper has a way of scanning badly. As does my assistant.)



Enjoy!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Happy Independence Day!

DAHLINGS -


As I sit here, slathered in sunscreen, gazing out at the water from the deck of my beautiful (featured in Architectural Digest) oceanfront mansion, Bucky lying nearby under a protective canopy, I am deeply grateful to be an American. Yes, an American who speaks fluent French and feels at home in almost any country except Wales (it's COLD there), but an American nonetheless.


If I may wax patriotic for a moment, I must pay tribute to those who fought and died so that we do not have the Queen on our money.

And it is a pleasure to at last have the possibility of optimism about our beloved country. If I become any more patriotic than that, it will raise Deep Thoughts, which give me the dickens of a headache.



Suffice to say I have a house full of guests from the fashion industry, who even now are laying about my garden in gin-and-tonic induced stupors. (Fortunately, there are enough beach chairs.)


I wonder what the poor people are doing? Oh, yes, they're cleaning my driveway, preparing luncheon and making up the beds. One might say I am creating jobs--are you listening, President Obama?


Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Fashion Week Fall 2009 Trims The Fat But Not The Big Macs!

DAHLINGS –

What a week, vénérable mes lecteurs, what a week! On Wednesday your faithful correspondent attended a luncheon at Bergdorf Goodman (one of my beloved childhood department stores…dear darling Mama used to let me play at the fine jewelry counters because she knew how I cherished sparkly things).


The occasion was for the House of Dior, with several top executives there. If you have been following this blog with half an eye, you know my vast love for Dior! The lobster plates and champagne were courtesy of Dior executive Delphine Arnault-Gancia. It was attended by the typical pack of undernourished socialites and a model or two. Thank God I did not have to sit next to Tinsley Mortimer.


Photo of Delphine Arnault-Gancia and Jim Gold
copyright Patrick McMullan


(J'ai presque écrit socialistes, mais c'est le contraire, n'est-ce pas?) I wore a red velvet vintage Dior “spider hat” in honor of the occasion. Lovely how in this dreadful economy we can still look forward to the Dior Spring Line!

Speaking of the appalling economy, Fashion Week Fall 2009 has scaled back to an unprecedented level: fewer runway shows, and top designer names opting for “presentations” instead. It is something like putting live models in department store windows or something like that. They have to freeze in place for hours while fashion editors pluck at them. (cf. my post of January 26 2007 ‘Dead Brazilian Models: A Suggestion’.)

The most shocking development to your faithful correspondent was that menswear designer Duckie Brown has inked a deal with (ugh) McDonalds—speaking of places where never a model has been seen actually eating—holding the food does not count—to produce the show and have a “Mc-Cafe” backstage. So instead of snubbing the fruit bowls, the models can snub Chicken McNuggets. Well, one supposes that when you’re simply not used to ingesting food, an apple is the same thing as a Quarter Pounder With Cheese.

The star power in the front rows has also been considerably dimmed, if my experience is anything to go by. Where hast thou gone, Ashton and Demi? And why are you not missed?

Friday night I passed on the AMFAR benefit (one had quite enough of that sort of thing in Washington, thank you) to go to the actual Mercedes Benz opening party, held at Shang at the Thompson LES. Other than being extremely noisy, it was quite fun. I spotted Christian Siriano (one swears he would easily fit into Bucky’s Gucci dog carrier!).



One dearly wanted to thank the little imp for not being overly snarky on the Golden Globes Fashion Wrap-Up Show. Christian has strong opinions, but not the pure mean streak that many of the other commentators have. That might be because Christian actually has a functional talent in the real world…oh, dear, did I just write that? Mes plus sincères excuses. (Debbie Matenopolous’s dress on that show still baffles me…two, two, two necklines in one!)

Fern Mallis graciously took the stage to thank us all for being there. Things being what they are these days, she should have been grateful anyone was there. Nothing against Fern personally, of course. After all, she is the only woman who is allowed to look faintly normal at Fashion Week, presumably because it is her baby.

Photo of Fern Mallis copyright Patrick McMullan

A very loud band, The Virgins, took the stage, and I hied myself to my limo, along with a handsome waiter I’d met. I think his name might be Jose, or Julio, I can never remember these things. He was gone before daylight, which was the important thing.

There will be a great deal later, including reviews of the shows, but I have been far too busy and I must get some rest. Tomorrow: how Yigal Azrouel rocked my world, and ever so much more!

Here's hoping you all had a joyous Valentine's Day!

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

I'm Featured On The Specialist Auctions Blog!

DAHLINGS -

Specialist Auctions, the United Kingdom-based site where I have one of my shops, has a special entry by yours truly today. There is also a breathtaking picture of Bucky the Wonderdog, working his special magic of cuteness that has kept me from killing him despite all of the biting.

Here is the link:

http://specialistauctions.blogspot.com/2009/02/delightful-plus-size-pieces-at-my.html

Do have a look, and happy shopping!

ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

More Plus Size Pretties For the Manhattan Vintage Show!

DAHLINGS -

It is absolutely FRANTIC here, I tell you! I've had to cancel all of my social engagements (Ashley Tisdale broke down in tears, poor thing, and Barbara Walters was extremely ungracious about my not attending her dinner party. Perhaps I will send Rosie O'Donnell in my stead.)

The Manhattan Vintage Show opens this coming Friday, October 10th, and if you love vintage, you will be a fool to miss it!

Here are some more vintage lovelies I have in store for you at my booth, The Mad Fashionista's Plus Size Boutique!

A 1963 gold silk jacket dress with flocked velvet roses, size XL. This was originally designed as a wedding dress for an older bride:



A beautiful boiled wool jacket by Reinalter, with the most cunning big silver buttons:



And for now, a GORGEOUS mink-lined raincoat, custom-made by Weisberg in size XXL. Not only is it lined with gorgeous, soft mahogany mink, it has mink lapels and cuffs. But that's not all--the lining zips out so that you can wear it as a lightweight yet stylish coat! Modern size 16/18/20:



Please bear in mind that my mannequin, Bodicea, is six feet tall and a plus-sized full-figured size 16. Almost as beautiful as I am, although not quite.

For those that have asked, Bucky the Wonderdog will not be in attendance; the insurance risk is too great. If he bites Hamish Bowles, well...one shudders to think.

Next up, hats, hats and more hats!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Fashion Week 2009 Wrap Up, Dahlings!

DAHLINGS –

I am simply wrung out, exhausted, barely able to move. I am dictating this blog-thing to my assistant while getting a foot message and pedicure (there is another masseuse giving Bucky a full-body message…the poor little dog had been banged around in so many different bags by frantic crowds! I do hope she remembers to put a muzzle on my darling before she paints his nails).

Because of my extreme weariness I shall simply give some thumbnail descriptions of various shows I visited during the past week. First of all, Diane von Furstenberg’s show was delightful, the dresses flowing, airy and comfortable. And many of the models were SMILING! Mon dieu! How refreshing! (Methinks Diane has found a man to have sex with, unlike her husband?) DVF even created a way to conceal Coco Rocha:



Brava, Diva!

As regular readers know, Marc Jacobs is not one of my favorite designers. However, one must reluctantly admit that his collection was…yes, I can say it…marvelous. Over the top, colorful, but so well-edited and with a sense of humor. It was at the Armory, and actually started on time! Last time spectators had to wait hours, and then MJ went ballistic, as they say, in the newspapers no less. One must do some reconsidering.



I am not usually a woman who is wrong, but in this case, I won’t say I have been wrong, but I will say that I have reconsidered. It was one of the best collections of the week. Cathy Horyn of the New York Times mentioned, that in this year of women in elections, perhaps some of Jacobs’s outfits were referencing turn-of-the-century suffragettes. Of that, I can only approve. And Cathy is simply one of the best, if not the best, fashion interpreters out there today.

Out of sheer curiosity, I would have gone to Michael Kors’s show, but participating in the New York Reality Television School the night before (how ironic!) left me reluctant to leave my bed until the Oscar de le Renta show.

And of course, your faithful correspondent was in the front row, across from the luminous Jennifer Lopez, who for some reason was wearing a black strapless ball gown for early afternoon (I mean, there are photo ops and there are photo ops, but really.) and Rachel Zoe. About the latter, my lips are sealed, friend-snatcher. Of course I wore Oscar from head to foot (well, not foot, because I have to have my shoes custom made, but I had managed to color coordinate my stilettos). So that I wouldn’t look too—I despise the phrase—“matchy matchy”, I carried a Louis Vuitton carrier for Bucky and a bright yellow Toblerone, extra large. One of those bars can get one through an entire day, provided one also brings a Red Bull or two. Yes, I do get a bit snappish at times—

WHY ARE YOU ROLLING YOUR EYES? WHAT AM I PAYING YOU FOR, YOU IDIOTIC SWINE? GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY FEET AT ONCE! GET OUT! NO, LEAVE YOUR ASSISTANT HERE! BUCKY'S TOES HAVE NOT BEEN PAINTED YET!

Ahem. Je ne souffrent pas des imbéciles heureux.

Absolutely beautiful, dahlings. One can always count on Oscar to deliver the goods.
And while we are at it, compare Oscar's swimsuit to Yigal's

Francisco Costa’s collection for Calvin Klein seemed a wee bit bizarre to your faithful correspondent, but he was going for an “architectural” look. For those of you who criticize moi for suggesting many of the models might have Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome, Serena Williams and Tyra Banks were in the audience… what a relief to see “real” women!

Christian Siriano executed a marvelous collection. He is truly growing as a designer, even though he’s almost as small in person as Bucky. (Seeing him stand next to my ex-friend Andre Leon Talley is seeing Mutt and Jeff personified, pardon the antique reference.)

As for the Project Runway show, my lips are sealed. You’ll simply have to wait, dahlings.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

The Met "Superheroes" Gala - Meet The Heroes and Villains!

Dahlings –

The annual gala for the Metropolitan Museum’s Costume Institute happened recently, and of course, your faithful correspondent was in attendance! (There would have been hell to pay had I not!)

The theme was “Superheroes”, those mythic comic book heroes and heroines in leotards and capes, among other strange fetishistic clothing. No one appreciates a well-built man in Spandex more than moi, but it did seem an oddly petit-bourgeois choice for a costume installation.

However my idol, Anna Wintour, rose to the challenge, in a silver two-piece Chanel costume modeled after "Storm," a character in something called X-Men. I can only assume Storm has something to do with ram's horns.



Most of the guests opted to dress in rather ordinary glamour-carpet gowns, to the disappointment of yours truly. I hoped for a parade of capes, gloves, golden boots, not the usual E! blue plate specials. (For the record, I was in a red satin gown with a matching capelet, gold stiletto heels, and gold gloves, with clutch to match. Bucky accompanied me in a red harness with a little red satin cape with a gold "B" on it. So cute--although he did try to bite Coco Rocha when she bent down to pet him. How does that dog know?)

The absolute worst-dressed women of the evening, however, were the designers themselves. Here is a trio that, if they were Super-Villains, would be called The Hags From Hades, with the power to transform dresses into shapeless, hideous sacks with a wave of their tape measures:




Vera Wang, Donna Karan, Anna Sui

My personal votes for the best dressed woman were polar opposites, but they radiated their own unique style. First we have Sarah Silverman, in her secret identity as Sarabeth, 50s Cutie:



Yes, I know some critics thought she merely looked like a sober version of Amy Winehouse, but since there is no such animal, I cannot agree.

Next we have super heroine Naomi Watts as Queen Lateetha, whose battle cry is “Let There Be Light!” and instantly one’s teeth are blindingly white. She only uses her powers for good.



More later on the many crimes against fashion that were committed before we sat down to dinner in the Temple of Dendur, but I shall leave you with a lovely look at the man with whom I spent the night of the Academy Awards last year, Chris Noth...sigh...who needs George Clooney? (Who was also co-hosting the evening and looking rather drawn, if I may say so.)



Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog