Review: House, 8x12, "Chase" vs. God

DAHLINGS -

The plot of “Chase” can be summed up in one phrase: boy gets nun; boy sleeps with nun; God gets nun.

Watching this knowing that the show has been cancelled fills one with an odd combination of sadness and relief. The slackness of tone gives one the impression the writers were already looking for new jobs.

Like “Wilson” and “5 to 9”, “Chase” focuses on a single character. Jesse Spencer is one of the strongest actors in the cast, but he’s working with weak material. The episode attempts to tackle the subject of faith from a different angle than House’s impenetrable atheism. Chase was sent to seminary school, as has been mentioned over the years. The reason for his leaving? Crisis of faith? Disillusionment? No, being a horny teenage boy and having an affair with the groundskeeper’s wife. We’ve been waiting eight seasons for this?

Naturally, Almost-Nun is a blonde babe, like the “asexual” woman a few episodes back. Your faithful correspondent is not certain whether she is a noviate or a postulant, but honestly, who cares? She is going full-on Catholic, becoming a cloistered Carmelite nun, forbidden to speak, and presumably, stop dying her hair blonde and wearing underwire bras.

Chase and Blonde Not-Virgin-Mary have a number of dreary conversations about faith. These are eerily similar to the debates House had in “Unfaithful” or countless other episodes where he stumbled across some poor sap who believed in God.

If Chase is not sure he wants to return to PPTH, why is he hanging around? He’s on crutches from being stabbed in the heart last week (don’t ask). Somehow being stabbed in the heart doesn’t seem to have slowed Chase down. Including the inevitable scene where Chase and Not-Virgin-Mary tumble into bed and make sweet, sweet love. He even opens the tiny bandage for a reason that escapes me and we get to see the near-fatal, traumatic…pencil-sized wound.

After Wilson donated part of his liver to a friend in “Wilson”, he winced whenever he moved. Even after he left the hospital. But it clearly doesn’t impair Chase from cavorting with Not-Virgin-Mary.



"So, do you like to swing?"

But God has Other Plans for Not-Virgin-Mary. Post-coital in Chase’s bed, her neck swells up. She’s rushed off to PPTH for surgery! Which Chase performs! Huh? Hadn’t he decided he didn’t work there anymore? Did I miss something?

Not-Virgin-Mary has a vision during surgery that God is calling her. Somehow one night of sweet, sweet love has convinced Chase he loves her. But no. She’s going to put on the habit and leave our corrupt world behind. I’d care if they had bothered to give Not-Virgin-Mary a personality, but the writers forgot. They were too busy writing YET ANOTHER PRANK WAR, this time between House and Taub. Although it was a pleasure to see Taub without those dreadful twins, the prank war…it’s so tedious that describing it will set off my narcolepsy.

"Ha! I win!"

Chase goes weeping to House, who gives him a fatherly talk about Chase reassessing his life after his mistakes. No, don’t ask me what that means. It didn’t stop Chase in Season Two when he killed a patient in “The Mistake.” (Maybe he reassessed his life that time during the commercial breaks?) Perhaps one of my darling readers can explain the to me in the comments.

The upside of all of this is that Adams and Park have virtually nothing to do. The downside is that Wilson appears for a blink-and-you’ll-miss-him scene.

Feel free to respond in the comments. And yes, the show was canceled. All the talk of “deciding to come to an end” sounds suspiciously like public relations hooey. Let’s hope the series finale leaves the cast alive—most of them, anyway. When you comment, remember, I am always right.

Ciao,
Elisa & Fletcher

Taking A Partial Hiatus...

DAHLINGS -

After giving the matter much thought, your faithful correspondent shall be taking a partial hiatus from her blog-thing. There shall still be recapping television shows, perhaps reviewing some films, and as always, writing about plus-size issues.

Please do not worry that this means anything significant. Merely that if I can't be as fabulous as necessary, I need to slow down.

I am not able to attend Mercedes Benz Fashion Week this year, so there will be no coverage. It is strongly suggested that you read one of the fine blogs listed on the right.

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher

How Planned Parenthood Saved Me

In the wake of the Komen Foundation's baffling decision to stop funding Planned Parenthood, I decided to reprint this entry from May 2011.

DAHLINGS -

I do not dwell in the past, but the battles over the reproductive rights of women compel me to reveal a few pertinent facts. Planned Parenthood was the only resource when I was a young woman--a young, upper-middle class woman with a good education and family background--that helped women of every class and nationality, in confidence.Today Planned Parenthood is so often presented (not always transparently) as a program that is targeted at minorities and encourages promiscuity.

THAT IS SO IDIOTIC THAT IT DEFIES BELIEF!

Ahem.

It is not a matter of pro-life/pro-choice, it is a matter of WOMAN CONTROLLING THEIR REPRODUCTIVE DESTINIES RATHER THAN THEIR REPRODUCTIVE SYSTEMS CONTROLLING THEM. It is about women's health, not only abortion. Contraception, family planning, prenatal care.

What, in God's name, is so hard to understand about that? Oh, pardonnez moi, 95% of the politicians voting to cut funding are male. It's not going to have an impact on their day to day lives. ONLY ALL OF THE WOMEN IN THEIR CONSTITUENCY!!!As the Reverend Debra Haffner writes: "Access to maternal health care, contraception and family planning services can and should be available to all women, regardless of nationality, geography, economic status or other factors. "http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rev-debra-haffner/celebrate-mothers-locally_b_858048.html

I am not used to being outraged, dear readers, but this is simply too much to bear. My story, in brief. When I was a young woman, I was extremely attractive to the opposite sex. (Thank goodness some things never change.)

As my dear darling Mama had taught me, I was religious about birth control. I never had unprotected sex.

At 21, I missed several periods. I was panicked. I couldn't tell anyone. I was afraid to tell my ob/gyn. Partly because I was 21 and things like this were not supposed to happen to moi.

Pregnancy happened to careless, low-class women. Never to moi.

The only option was to go to the Planned Parenthood clinic in New York City, although I lived outside the city at the time. I was examined, and the doctor told me the most beautiful words in the world:"You're not pregnant."

The burden fell off my shoulders, and I resumed my life, both practical and romantic. Again, I was religious about birth control. Perhaps my taste in partners was occasionally lacking, but not my protection of myself. It happened again. This time with all of the symptoms that went along with being enciente. I was still young, unmarried, with absolutely no desire for children. What could have gone wrong? I was so careful!

Again, I sought out Planned Parenthood. Again, it was a false alarm. Faithful readers, if an abortion had been called for either time, I would have had one in a heartbeat. I was far too young, far too inexperienced, with no interest in having a child. I would have been a terrible mother. Je ne regrette rien. It happened once again, in the weeks before my marriage. We knew we couldn't afford to have a baby. My fiance was in school. Abortion was our only option. We were devastated, but it would have been the only feasible choice. Again, Planned Parenthood. Again, a false alarm.

Years later I researched a novel (yes, your faithful correspondent has some skeletons in her past, including some unpublished novels) about a young woman whose father is an abortionist, circa 1916. The lack of women's choices in those days, both in love and in work, fascinated me. (Also I adored the clothes, a major component in writing an historical novel. At least for moi.)For research, I went to the Planned Parenthood main office and archives. These were in the days before the loonies started destroying the material--although it had just started.

Over the weeks I read dozens of articles, personal stories, medical journals, etc. All described the horror of life before accessible birth control. Back alley abortions, suicide, women chained in unhappy marriages, women literally unable to STOP having children whether they wanted to or not. Millions of unwanted children raised by miserable or cold, uncaring mothers. Fathers trapped in jobs because they had so many mouths to feed.

"Down With The Abortion Clause" Kathe Kollwitz,1924


THERE WAS NO CHOICE. AT ALL. UNLESS YOU WANTED TO RISK DEATH.

Or join a convent, but that seems a tad extreme, don't you think? Some members of the government dream of going back to that happy time! There is more to say upon the topic, but I shall save it for another entry. Dear readers, do not let the government slash Planned Parenthood funding. They help prevent more unwanted children coming into the world and the women without the money or too frightened to get the help they need.

Ciao,

Elisa & Fletcher


P.S. I still use birth control conscientiously. And recommend that my readers do the same. Planned Parenthood is an excellent resource.

A Valentine's Day Special From Leading Lady Bras

DAHLINGS -

Far be it from me to withhold the gift of uplift to my fellow larger lovelies! Today I received the following press release:

This Valentine's Day We're Sharing the LOVE from the Intimates, Out

LEADING LADY wants women everywhere to slip into "sexy" with a new bra and a perfect fit to enhance their curves!

New fans can Like us on Facebook for an introductory 10% discount code. All of our fans can Tweet "I LOVE @LeadingLadyBras" TODAY and on VALENTINE'S DAY and receive a 10% discount code. The codes can be used at our e-boutique during the entire month of February. So go on -- Spread the word, Share the Love!

Promotion codes are good for one per person. Cannot be combined with any other coupon offers. Discount applied at check out. Expires 02/29/12

***************************
Disclaimer: your faithful correspondent has "road-tested" two Leading Lady bras, size 42DD. This bra was lovely and gave excellent support and (most important) projection:




Scalloped Lace Underwire Bra

















The other bra was, simply, the largest bra I have ever worn. Not in bra size, but in size. The neckline almost reached my collarbone. It fit well, but let us say, that it is not exactly this writer's preferred look. A woman who feels she needs maximum support would undoubtedly find this more to her taste.









Molded Seamless Wirefree Bra












I urge you to go to their website and browse their extensive selection of full-figure and nursing bras. You shall be pleasantly surprised.

Ciao,
Elisa

New Daily Format, Dahlings!

DAHLINGS -

After much agonizing, I made an Important Decision. Instead of waiting between posts, I shall post a diary entry every day. Do not fret. Here will still be articles, polemic, rants, fashion, all written in my inimitable style. However, I have decided that life's petty pace should be documented.

I am writing this at my fabulous oceanfront mansion (featured in Architectural Digest). Outside the window is blowing, seagulls are flying, the ocean is...well, oceaning or whatever it does. My phone is turned off, and I am about to plow through a mountain of press releases inviting me to various unexciting events. However, it is so nice to be wanted.

Ciao,
Elisa

Hitler Finds Out That House And Cuddy Broke Up

DAHLINGS

I'm only starting to crawl out of my cave, forgive me. Every time I look around my luxurious Art Deco office, I remember Bucky having accidents there. As I stroll around its rooms, I remember Bucky biting people (most infamously, Andre Leon Talley).

But most of all, I recall the loving companionship he provided at all times and so much more. It has been impossible to be as...well...superficial as this blog-thing requires. Entirely too many Deep Thoughts have been running through my head.

So, I apologize for this being the first entry after my "hiatus," but it made me laugh more than anything else has in a while.

Ciao,
Elisa...

Beauty From The Past: Real Women, Real Stars

DAHLINGS -

I hope you had a delicious Thanksgiving!

A dear friend sent me a link to this. It is possibly one of the EARLIEST uses of color film extant. Shot in 1922, this is a test of Kodachrome film by Kodak.

It lets you see the natural beauty of the women, how they wore their clothes and hair, how they moved their bodies. If some of it seems self-conscious, that is natural, since they being told what to do and how to move by a person behind the camera. The blonde at the end is the 1920s star Mae Murray who had an extremely popular look among women: the bobbed hair and "bee-stung" lips (lips painted into small cupids bows).

Here is some information supplied by a faithful reader:

"In these newly preserved tests, made in 1922 at the Paragon Studios in Fort Lee, New Jersey, actress Mae Murray appears almost translucent, her flesh a pale white that is reminiscent of perfectly sculpted marble, enhanced with touches of color to her lips, eyes, and hair. She is joined by actress Hope Hampton modeling costumes from The Light in the Dark (1922), which contained the first commercial use of Two-Color Kodachrome in a feature film. Ziegfeld Follies actress Mary Eaton and an unidentified woman and child also appear."

The clothes are what the stylish young lady wore in 1922. Vintage lovers, take note! Watch and enjoy!



Along the same lines is this promotional film, also starring young actresses of the time.




And finally, from 1913 we have the reigning beauty of the 1890s, LILLIAN RUSSELL! She was past her prime, but ten years before she had been the reigning beauty of the day. Her voluptuous proportions were the ideal of the 1890s, later revived by Mae West.







Another benefit of watching old films is that you can see what earlier definitions of "beautiful bodies" were. For instance, look at Clark Gable shirtless, or the chorus girls in any Busby Berkeley musical. Speaking of the latter, a male escort and I were viewing "Golddiggers of 1933." When the camera zoomed in for a close-up of the legendary Ginger Rogers, he exclaimed, "she has brown teeth!" No, she had natural teeth. Something that has not existed in Hollywood for many years.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, DAHLINGS!

DAHLINGS -

I am writing from an undisclosed location in the Mediterranean, attending Thanksgiving with a number of fabulous and not-so-fabulous people. For which I am truly grateful, particularly because I am far better dressed than almost any of them.

While the various dishes (turkey, braised eel, loin of wildebeest, roasted boar--the boar was flown in and sacrificed during the cocktail hour--most entertaining) are being prepared, your faithful correspondent thought she would share a few celebrity tidbits. After all, most celebrities are sitting in high-end restaurants, while their publicists send out releases claiming "they are enjoying Thanksgiving with family and friends." As Lindsay Lohan call tell you, most celebrities have neither family nor friends.

Tidbit #1

Shakira Caine, Michael's wife, snorts when she laughs.

Tidbit #2

If you stand on a chair and look straight down at Elton John's head, his scalp is a most peculiar shade.

Tidbit #3

Real Housewives should not be invited to parties where hard liquor, or even food, is served. One well-known Housewife ate a hearty breakfast, then promptly threw it up in a lavishly tiled bathroom. Gold fixtures don't make it any less disgusting, particularly when you are the next person to use the facilities.

Tidbit #4

Ben Affleck is a flasher. But oh, what a flash.

Tidbit #5

Colin Farrell uses Just For Men. (Yes, I admit, I look in the bedroom wastebaskets. It's part of my job.)

Tidbit #6

Gwyneth Paltrow's favorite pre-bedtime ritual is a large glass of straight Jack Daniels and a single mini-eclair.

That's all for now. It's 7 pm here and I hear a martini calling my name.

Have a very happy Thanksgiving, my darling readers and Twitter-followers, and remember I love you all. As long as I don't have to touch you.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Full Figured Fashion Week Is Approaching!

DAHLINGS -

Your faithful correspondent is delighted to announce that she will be one of the participants in Full Figured Fashion Week this summer! Here is the press release:

A Roundup of the Plus Size Fashion Blogger Elite: The Curvy Collective for Full Figured Fashion Week™
New York, NY (May, 01 2010)-

Plus-size fashion continues to be hotly debated, and helping to lead this charge is a dynamic group of the plus size community’s leading fashion bloggers- The Curvy Collective. Created to capture, expose, and share up-to-the-minute news for Full Figured Fashion Week ™, The Curvy Collective fashions a network of bloggers to leverage their blogs and social media platforms to facilitate the latest news.

Curvy Collective co-founders, Marie Leggette of The Curvy Fashionista and Johara Tucker, of Luvin’ My Curves, launched the collective last Spring of 2009 with the inception of Full Figured Fashion Week ™.

Back for a second year, the leading plus size fashion blogs joining the Curvy Collective include: The Curvy Fashionista, Luvin’ My Curves, A Curvy Girl’s Guide to Style, Diary of a Mad Fashionista, Fatshionista , Full Figure Plus, Life Size Radio, Musings of a Fatshionista, Madison Plus, The Big Girl Blog, Stylish Maven, and Daily Venus Divas.

The Curvy Collective will also facilitate a Full Figured Fashion Week™ panel discussion: “The State of the Curvy Community” being held at Hotel Penn on Friday, June 18th, from 4 –6:00PM. Moderated by Sharon Quinn, panelists will address the climate of plus size in the media, the progress, challenges, and successes of the curvy community.

For all press inquiries please regarding The Curvy Collective, please contact press@fffweek.com . For more information on Full Figured Fashion Week, please visit their official website at Full Figured Fashion Week ™. http://www.fffweek.com/

***********
Dahlings, it is going to be the event of the season! Keep watching my blog-thing for more exciting announcements!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

Tim Gunn Is The King of All Media!

DAHLINGS -

For more than a week, my horrific excuse for a computer has been RIDDLED with viruses, malware (whatever that is) and various other crazy-making things. I have been unable to read my email, get on Twitter, respond to press releases, etc. etc. For a woman who prides herself on being in the forefront of fashion's elite, I am humbled before the sheer evil of Windows.

However, while I collect what is left of my senses, I thought I would share with you one of the delightful post-episode commentaries by my BFF, Tim Gunn. This was posted a few minutes ago, and I hope you enjoy it. It is his commentary post-episode 12.




One can only hope it works. Otherwise, the screams will be hearable all the way down to the East Village.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

We Interrupt This Blog...

DAHLINGS -

Once again, the demands of LIFE, such as it is, has interfered with my ability to bring you my discerning take on all things important.

However, I promise, within the week:

1) An essay on Season Seven of Project Runway (it is Seven, isn't it??)

2) Two entries wrapping up Fashion Week from last month, with pictures.

Until then, I'm off to yet another fashion event...no rest for the weary...or is it wicked? Doesn't matter.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Chris March Has A New Book!

DAHLINGS -

My wonderful Chris March, my absolutely favorite Project Runway contestant ever (oh, dear, I sound twelve years old) has put together a coffee table book of outrageous photographs! It's called "I Heart Chris March," and it chronicles twenty-five years of his costume and fashion design. With, as Chris says in the accompanying interview, "Many, many embarassing pictures of me". Since I love a good drag queen, I don't find the pictures embarassing at all.

Some of the fun that is waiting between softcovers!

The utterly adorable Chris March (in leopard, of course)

AND the forward is written by my BFF from Fashion Week, Tim Gunn! This is a fantastic present for your friend who didn't get what they want for Christmas, bear fanciers, drag lovers, costume designers, in face just about everyone (even those closeted members of the Christian Right).

One of my favorite designs from Project Runway was the avant-garde challenge, co-designed by Chris and Christian Siriano:


Chris March has an absolutely fabulous career. His clients include Madonna, John Epperson, Joe Boxer and Tyra Banks, to name just a few. Here is a delightful interview he did for TV Guide:

http://www.tvguide.com/News/VIDEO-Runways-Chris-1013224.aspx

To buy a copy of I Heart Chris March, go to

http://www.chrismarchdesign.com/ilovechrismarch/

You won't find it in your local chain bookstore. While you are on the site, take a leisurely browse. Then order the book.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Plus Size Pretties For New Year's Eve!

DAHLINGS -

Happy Boxing Day! (And no, I don't know what it means, either.) New Year's Eve and other winter festivities are bearing down on us, so I felt I simply MUST let you know of some lovely plus-size and smaller pieces to take you into 2010 in glamorous style. There are price points for everyone who is reading this.

First of all, the Coat-A-Rama sale is still going on at my store at (ugh) Ebay. There are some ultra-glam coats up, even if the photos do not always do them justice!

A vintage red sheer striped evening coat with rhinestone buttons, XXL:


This glam vintage matelasse gold raincoat, which can be worn in the evening, M:


A 1970s vintage metallic silver leather spy girl coat for the Emma Peel in you, L:


For the femme on a budget, there are evening gowns and evening separates:

For the Stevie Nicks lover, a 1970s floral dress with sheer batwing sleeves, XXL. Add a shawl and start twirling!


From Venezia Jeans, a gray satin silver skirt in rich folds, drawstring waist, size 14-20:


A gorgeous strapless gown by Michaelangelo, with beading, a lilac underdress,and a tulle crinoline! Size 14.


This navy satin gown has a chiffon draped top, and cascading chiffon ruffles, also size 14.


This sensational glittery tunic to light up your winter nights, size 8X


From the 1960s, this vintage custom-made brocade dress in silver, copper and other metallics, size XL Tall:


There is so much more in my shop, so why don't you stop by and take a look around? You won't be disappointed. And if you are, well, that's your fault.

http://stores.ebay.com/Elisas-Bodacious-House-of-Style

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Pardon My Absence...

DAHLINGS -

My deepest apologies, but at time life gets in the way of the most important things, i.e. this blog-thing. I will be back as soon as possible. In the meantime, I wanted to allay any worries about my whereabouts.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Fashion Week: I'm in WWD for Upstaging Kathy Griffin!

DAHLINGS -

Your faithful correspondent has occasionally been trailed by the paparazzi, but nothing prepared me for the BARRAGE of flashbulbs when I entered the Isaac Mizrahi show! I know I looked divine, and perhaps the press was simply tired of photographing reality stars and socialites. And I managed to tick off Miss Kathy Griffin, as you can read in this article from Womens Wear Daily:
http://www.wwd.com/fashion-news/fashion-scoops/front-row-at-isaac-mizrahi-2296454?gnewsid=96cc6888862f317b7fe2926d5f43c089#/wwd

Do have a look. I have not seen any pictures of that event, but I'm sure they will be popping up soon.

And I have to take back my strong words about French documentary filmmakers. They found me on Thursday afternoon. I was interviewed at length for an upcoming Sundance Channel special on the Academy Awards red carpet...it seems that few people at Fashion Week were willing to actually express an opinion. You know moi, dahlings, I always express my opinions.

The Mizrahi show was beautiful, entertaining, and even quite funny at times. Quite a bit like your faithful correspondent. More later.

Here I am, approximately nine hours later, after the Tommy Hilfiger show.

For details of all of the fabulous outfits I wore during Fashion Week, with copious photos and information on where to buy them, please do take a look at http://diaryofamadfashionistafashionweek.blogspot.com/

You'll enjoy it immensely, I promise you!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Fashion Week: Custo Barcelona Does Fringe And More Fringe

DAHLINGS:

As you might have guessed by now, I am not what you would call a “club kid,” so perhaps I am not the target demographic for the Custo Barcelona men's and women's show on Sunday night in the Tent.

The music was a floor-shaking David Bowie remix, with “Dream Genie” heavily featured. This was apropos, as a few of the outfits looked like cheap I Dream of Jeannie knockoffs. Designer Custo Dalmau likes to call his fabric “yarns,” which translated into endless bathing suits with brightly colored crochet-look ponchos over them. There was more fringe on that runway than a herd of 1960s go-go dancers. Go ahead and call it texture if you like.




The male models were all exceedingly handsome, if handicapped by their clothes. There was one interesting suit in a mottled pattern:


One poor juvenile had to wear an outfit with fringed sleeves and wide fringed gaucho pants that reminded one of nothing so much as a maraca player in a 1930s Spanish musical. And I am by no means a fan of the newest trend of male clam diggers, as dear darling Mama used to call those strange mid-calf pants (as distinct in style from cropped pants or flood pants in that they have no inherent style).

During a lull in the day’s activities, an IMG employee remarked to your faithful correspondent that she has never seen the models as thin as they are this year. Given that they normally look like they had been released from Auschwitz hours before the shows that is quite a statement. But it is true; some of the models’ thighs, seen close, are absolutely painful to see.

Backstage, before I was trapped next to the diminutive Mr. Dalmau (cf. my earlier post) I watched the male models being posed ala New Kids On The Block; they were quite adorable in their own clothes, if a tad on the underfed side. This sign hung by the entry to the runway:



Now at least I know why models never smile...take a look at the sign on the right side. However, the rest of it is quite inspirational, in a vapid sort of way.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Random Musings On Fashion Week S/S 2010

DAHLINGS –

I have a few moments to sit quietly at home, sipping a cappuccino. Bucky is in my lap; he's been in a deep funk because I have left him at home this time. In February, his lunging at Anna Wintour was not to be tolerated. Bad enough he's already bitten Andre Leon Talley! (Search this blog for the entire story.) I've been musing over the first four days of New York Fashion Week.

THE AUDIENCE

Cathy Horyn wrote a brilliant front-page article in The New York Times on Friday, about high fashion falling to earth. As much as your dutiful correspondent adores the shows, one has to ask oneself at this time: is it worth it?

On the one hand, the spectacle, the showmanship, the exquisite workmanship of some of the clothes is simply breathtaking. Some garments have brought tears to my eyes for their sheer beauty. Some outfits have made me wonder what drugs the designer was consuming when he created them.

On the other hand, the voracity of the media is one thing. But observing the same voracity in the eyes of desperate “people of the moment” and want-to-be “people of the moment” is another thing altogether.

For instance, last night, backstage at the Custo Barcelona show I was SQUASHED between Mr. Dalmau, who is tiny, dozens of PYTs and show-crashers. Some of them leaned back on my capacious bosom as if it was an armchair. (One knows they have an exaggerated sense of entitlement, but my breasts are not included, thank you very much.) Somehow one simply could not escape being next to Mr. Dalmau; the crowd simply carried me across the dressing room.

Moi, trapped behind Custo Dalmau (and holding onto a dress rack for dear life)

My face was also pinned by the back of a television camera. When I howled, the swine of a cameraman was completely unapologetic. If it had been Tori Spelling, who was at the Christian Siriano show, he would have been groveling. God knows she probably wouldn’t have even felt it through the Botox and the heavy makeup.

Backstage Tori glued herself to poor Christian’s side until he grabbed his bodyguard and ran out of the room. True story, dahlings.

My dear friend funkoma wrote a blog post on a related topic, “To Be Young, Pretty And Stupid.” http://funkomavintage.blogspot.com/2009/09/oh-to-be-young-pretty-and-stupid.html/

The shining exceptions to this behavior, besides my wonderful on-site assistant Bella Fierce, have been the darling Tim Gunn (who remembered me, causing a girlish blush to rise to my cheeks), the ever-gracious Fern Mallis, Marc Bouwer, Jack Mackenroth, Christopher Straub, and many of the bloggers I have been fortunate to meet this time at the rodeo.

Tim Gunn Greets His Public

THE UTTER LACK OF FOOD

It should not come as a surprise that, in addition to the paramedics outside the tents with crash carts of Ensure and methamphetamines, there is no food served inside the tents. Free cocktails abound, as does some sponsor's water, Muscle Milk (blech) Coke and Diet Coke, and “mocktails” served up at the Fashion Week juice bar by Belgian restaurant Rouge Tomate, prepared by Rouge Tomate’s mixologist, Rainlove Lampariello. I have no responsibility for the person's name, but let me tell you, the drinks are actually quite delicious. The lemonade with cucumber and mint was an absolute lifesaver before getting back on line for a show. (Your faithful correspondent holds off on the liquor until after the shows are over...one must keep a clear head.)

However, backstage at the Vivienne Tam show, there was an array of goodies. I was so surprised, I photographed them. Then I grabbed a goat cheese sandwich and broke the symmetry of the display.

REMARKS AND RESPONSES

Overheard at the Wednesday night Saks Fifth Avenue celebration: “Saks is a legend," gushed Rachel Zoe. "You come to New York, and this is where you go! It's been around forever, and it's one-stop shopping. Plus, it's Saks! It's Saks Fifth Avenue.”

Stylist Philip Block on clients with bad taste: “I’ll dress them, but they’re not to give me any credit on the red carpet!”

Tim Gunn after the Christian Siriano show: “I feel like a proud papa!”

Half the people one stood next to, usually to a bored, footsore security guard: “Don’t you know who I AM?” Invariable response: nothing. They hear it all day.

Almost any designer save Marc Bouwer when I ask, “Would you ever consider designing for a woman my size?” Invariable response: a frozen stare, and then a few gulps.

That’s all for now. I’m off to prepare myself for my interview with Frazer Harrison, celebrity photographer, so I need to write out a list of rude questions.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Sulking Wonderdog



All photographs Elisa DeCarlo

Dear God, It's Fashion Week Spring 2010!

DAHLINGS -

And so it begins! Smithie, my office assistant, has been sobbing for two days trying to arrange my schedule.

OH, SHUT UP, SMITHIE! TAKE A DEXTROAMPHETAMINE AND STOP MAKING THOSE WHINING NOISES! YOU'RE NOT THE ONE WHO HAS TO WEAR HIGH HEELS ALL DAY!

It's almost impossible to get good help these days. However, I will be assisted in my on-site labors by Bella Fierce, the creator of the blog http://www.biggurlfashion.blogspot.com/ ! We met for lunch earlier this week, and her table manners were impeccable, as was her outfit. I breathed a sigh of relief. (Your faithful correspondent has even written down her name, a rare honor.) Do take a look at her blog, she is creative, and truly "fierce" (a word learned recently here.)

Every day this week I will be presenting a special feature, "Where To Buy My Look," so that you have a slight chance to look as fabulous as I do. You simply go over to "The Mad Fashionista Takes Fashion Week" to see photos of moi in my full splendor!

Later I will even be doing video "streaming" I believe it is called, so that you can envy me even more as I interview the people inside the tents and give my commentary directly to you, without interference from this idiot sitting at my desk.

I do not mean moi. I am lounging in my Marcel Dufrene Art Deco armchair sipping a cup of extra-strong cappucino and nibbling on a croissant. Can't have crumbs getting on the keyboard. Bucky is in my satin-clad lap, trying to bite the croissant out of my hand, but so far I have managed to--

BUCKY! NO! GIVE THAT BACK!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Jessica Gottlieb Can Dish It Out, But She Can't Take It

DAHLINGS -

My idle reference to bitch-slapping Jessica Gottlieb has gotten the "Mommy Blogger" (whatever that is) into quite a stew! The reference was due to her recent blogpost, "Fat Acceptance Is Bullshit." Need I say more? (I refrain from such vulgar language--it is a barrier to intelligent discourse. Of course "bitch-slapping" is rather declasse', but I was fatigued.)

It's worth it to go on Twitter to see her foaming at the mouth over little old moi. I'm quite flattered, really. Ms. Gottlieb not only called me a variety of names, she even posted a link to my last blog post so that people could bear witness to what "the troll" wrote about her. Even if it was only a passing reference in my blog post devoted to PETA. Apparently, she's that important.

In her post, Ms. Gottlieb wrote:

I’m tired of hearing people equating obesity with race, hence the discrimination.
I can’t carry my 7 year old on my back all day long and still have a good quality day. He’s 50 pounds or so. Many of you “fat acceptance” bloggers have lots more than 50 pounds on you. Stop pretending it’s okay. You are dying and some of you are killing your kids. That has me irate.
It’s got to suck to be morbidly obese. I can’t imagine laboring to get out of bed, oh, wait I can, you see I was HUGE when I was pregnant. It’s not a way to live your life.
...fat acceptance is kinda like cancer acceptance. You’re killing yourself and you sound like an asshole when you talk about it.

from: "Fat Acceptance Is Bullshit" at http://jessicagottlieb.com**

And then she's surprised when a plus-sized person takes offense?? Methinks she doth protest too much. In a previous post she admitted she's not a size 4, that she's a curvy woman with some "goo," whatever that means. For "goo," read "serious body issues."

It's ridiculous to have to write this, but here we go: I believe in limiting the consumption of fat and sugar for children. I do not eat fast food. I do not believe in gastric bypasses for teenagers, any more than I believe in breast implants for those too young to vote. However, like any normal person, I take great pleasure in eating delicious well-prepared healthy food (and the occasionally unhealthy food). And I love my body. It's strong, it works well, and it certainly has an excellent capacity for sexual enjoyment.

Ms. Gottlieb has indicated on her blog that I am a coward and a bully, and that until I apologize, she has nothing but contempt for me. Since she already has contempt for my body, she might as well have contempt for my point of view. Personally, I'm flattered my opinion means so much to her.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

** Edited to Add: Ms. Gottlieb tweeted that I cut and pasted without attribution. I'm beginning to believe this woman has a serious problem. Doesn't she have better things to do with her time, like, say, making sport of blind people?

Now Cintra Wilson Knows How It Feels To Be Fat

DAHLINGS -

Poor Cintra Wilson. Since writing her cruel, snide review of J.C. Penney for The New York Times a few days ago, the Internet has been roiling with rage. Directed at her, for the most part. (If you need more information, please read my previous entry.)

She apologized on her blog three times, first mentioning she'd interviewed Beth Ditto ("Some of my best friends are fat people!"), then telling her readers to get the knot out of their panties. When neither of those apologies assuaged anyone, the Times apparently ordered her to take a big-girl pill (pun intended) and issue a radiantly insincere apology:

Because of my personal beliefs as a Buddhist, I very much regret that my JC Penney article in the Times caused any wounded feelings whatsoever, particularly to people who already feel they take more than their share of abuse from our very shallow and ridiculous society.

Your faithful correspondent admits to her lack of knowledge about Buddhism. It's something to do with not owning anything and staring into space while uttering profound aphorisms, I think. Because of my personal beliefs as an atheist, I very much regret that Ms. Wilson, as an abusive member of our shallow and ridiculous society, writes for The New York Times.

As does nearly everyone else with a keyboard, apparently. The blogosphere is filled with rants; everything from calling Ms. Wilson a horse-faced crack whore to calling her critics fat slobs in sweat pants who drive up the cost of health care.

One hastens to add that I have written neither of these things. I prefer civilized discourse. Although yes, I have contributed to the discussion on a number of blogs.

What fascinates me, because I am the center of my universe, is the amount of hate mail I have received since my previous entry. Since I have been dictating this blog-thing for three years or more, I have long since become inured to being called a "fat twat", a "retard", a "stoopid snob who dont know anthing"[sic]. Perhaps I should have published the comments I have received, since they have veered quite far from the standard insults I receive.

Two commenters are convinced I am actually a man.
One commenter said I was robbing Mr. Blackwell's grave. I still don't know what that means. Should I be offended or proud?
Three commenters wrote [paraphrasing] that I should shut my fat hole up/stuff my mouth with food and write about something I know something about.

In a way, I actually feel bad for Ms. Wilson. Now she's having a double-sized portion (again, pun intended) of how most plus-sized women feel treated by society all of the time. Especially by the fashion establishment and the media.

Her mistake was to publish an article in The New York Times that was the equivalent of those signs one sees in taverns of the the more sordid sort: "No Fat Chicks".

I promise to move on to happier topics, such as the lovely holiday line coming soon from Silhouettes!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog