Anne Hathaway: Is It Live Or Is It Memorex?

DAHLINGS -



Sorry for the dated title, but to be honest, nothing else came quite as close to the mark. In my inbox this afternoon was a promo for Anne Hathaway's cover for Vogue. I am always fascinated by how photo-retouchers are able to turn real women into strange wax replicas of themselves. (I am also fascinated how real women can turn themselves into strange wax replicas, pace Courteney Cox).





Herewith are the photos:

Naturally, my favorite cover line is the one about "Natural Beauty That Delivers." Vogue would not know natural beauty if they tripped over it on their way to the loo.



I mean, really. Of course every thin young actress since 1975 has had to pose as Audrey Hepburn as Holly Golightly. One thinks it's a clause in their contracts.

But that is not my point. Most of us are aware how heavily manipulated the images are that bombard us daily. However, did you know that a special CGI artist was employed on Sex And The City II to fill in the lack of flesh of Sarah Jessica Parker's bony hands? (My source is quite reliable.) Before the inevitable onslaught of comments accusing me of being negative about extreme thinness, I am writing this about ALL actresses and actors of all sizes and ages.

There are far too many stories of that nature. In this digital age, it is truly an outrage that virtually no public image is the image of what is actually there.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

The 2010 Academy Awards Worst Dressed

DAHLINGS -

Now that I have brought you the Best Dressed, it's time for my choices for the 2010 Academy Awards Worst Dressed. There were so many choices. The trends for this award show were strapless dresses and ruffles, ruffles and more ruffles. Very few one-shoulder gowns, which was refreshing. So here they are.

We begin with the hands-down winner for not only the ugliest dress, but the ugliest hairdo (the photos do not do it justice: imagine three huge blonde balloons fastened to the back of the head) and the most over-exercised shoulders.

SARAH JESSICA PARKER

Not to sound like Little Blond Man on cable, but oh, the humanity! The metal breastplate, the back metal breastplate, the butt jewelry...where does it end? No wonder Matthew Broderick looked so uncomfortable all evening. Who wants to be seen with a Chrysler hood ornament? And how did she sit down without that big lump of metal sticking into her butt? Is she trying to channel 60s Barbra Streisand? (Who, by the way, has had a face lift that has left her with such tight skin that if you shake her hand, she nods.) This was Chanel Couture.

This probably means that Sarah won't be making me custom scented soap anymore. Sorry, dahling, but one must tell the truth.

However, there was a close runner-up:

DIANE KRUGER

What is with that shredded toilet paper skirt? That Victorian black bordello trim? Jaws dropped as she made her way down the red carpet, and not in a good way. Is this a vintage 1890s salvaged gown where they cut away the rotted parts? No, it is Chanel once again. The grinding sound you hear is Coco Chanel rotating in her grave.

The rest, is no particular order, are:

CHARLIZE THERON

What was she thinking? "My breasts are so small that I must make everyone notice how tiny they are"? "Nobody cares that I'm here so I'm going to wear a REALLY UGLY DRESS so I get photographed and talked about. I NEED PUBLICITY, PEOPLE!" Actually, the more I look at this Christian Dior mess, the more it looks as though a lilac-colored alien being is reaching its lobster-like claws around her chest.

SANDRA BULLOCK

It certainly was thrifty of her to dash into David's Bridal that morning and find this on the sale rack.

SAMANTHA HARRIS

Another member of the overworked-out crowd, why TV personality Samantha Harris chose this ill-fitting gown with its confusing neckline eludes me. I think she may be suffering from Charlize Theron syndrome: NOTICE ME, DAMMIT!

AMANDA SEYFRIED

The young actress managed to find an Armani Prive' dress that did the opposite: erased her personality. One must confess, the plethora of actresses wearing updos and slicked back hair got awfully tiresome, as seen here.

BOBBLEHEAD GIRL

This is the gaunt woman who works alongside Little Blond Man, critiquing the fashions as they come down the runway. They had to pleat her chest to give her cleavage. God, if only women like this would wear sleeves! The world would be a better place.

DEMI MOORE

As has been noted, it was raining at the Academy Awards that night. Poor Demi Moore and her Atelier Versace gown obviously got caught in a downpour, judging from the sad drowned ruffles and the disheveled hair. I hope she was toweled down shortly after this photograph was taken.

KRISTEN STEWART

Her hunched posture and scowl certainly did not add to the fact that this Monique Lhuillier dress is simply too old for her. Maybe that's why she was scowling? "Mooom, I want to wear Custo Barcelona!"

MILEY CYRUS

Speaking of hunched posture, Miley managed to maintain this uncomfortable and unflattering pose all evening. Perhaps her backless longline bra was too short? She borrowed both the dress and the hairdo from her grandmother, it seems. (However, next to her mother, Miley looked like a beacon of good taste.) One suspects her father encouraged her to wear this outfit.

TOO MUCH DRESS

This had to be a separate category all its own, because so many actresses chose enormous gowns that, in some cases, caused tragedy (to be described below). No, zombie Nicole Kidman was not roaming backstage, looking for brains to eat.

ZOE SALDANA

Where to start? The strange tissue paper flamenco styling that looks as though the purple had vomited out the bottom of the skirt? The hideous color pallette? The strange, unflattering bodice? The little tiny head at the top of this mess? Oh, well, if you wanted B-picture drama on the red carpet, this was your gown. By Givenchy, no less.

RACHEL McADAMS

Actually, it's rather charming that Ms. McAdams made her dress herself, tie-dying the cloth and then basting it together. She got carried away with the skirt, however. Ms. McAdams gets that way sometimes.

JENNIFER LOPEZ

My first thought upon seeing this Armani Prive' gown was that Jennifer Lopez was trying to make her husband Marc Anthony even more inconspicuous. Why does he bother to leave the house anymore? My second thought was that the piece sticking out of the ice pink bodice could easily be snapped off. And that perhaps the entire dress was made from that thin foamboard children play with in first grade. Fortunately, in case something like that happened, she was carrying a huge pink handkerchief attached to her hip to clean up any mess.

VERA FARMIGA

And she looked so beautiful in Up In The Air. This is the tragedy I alluded to above: another actress devoured by her own dress. Shortly after she left the Academy stage, screams were heard coming from the ladies room. Witnesses who rushed in have reported that Farmiga was gone. There was only a huge heap of ruffles on the tiled floor. Another senseless couture tragedy.

So there you have it. Please feel free to comment, agree or disagree. But remember; I am always right.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Susan Boyle, the Scottish Nightingale With A Beauty All Her Own

DAHLINGS -

Your faithful correspondent must confess, she was astounded by Susan Boyle's spectacular performance on Britain's Got Talent. It was not because she was "funny-looking." In fact I found her gold lace dress quite attractive and vintage-esque. It was not because she was "plump," as some would put it. The eyebrows could perhaps do with a good plucking, but women in England are not as obsessed with appearance as we Americans.

However, television generally demands that its performers, particularly female, be as perfectly bland as peas in a pod, and Susan Boyle was anything but bland from the moment she walked on the stage.

Moreover she committed television's cardinal sin: she looked like an ordinary person, someone you would pass on the street without glancing twice. Unless you were her friend or a relative. (Only on commercials is that allowed, it seems.)

The vast majority of our population is like that. But our media chooses to tell us otherwise. In fact it pummels us with airbrushed photos and commercials of gorgeous celebrities, anorexically thin women--you don't think television is retouched the way Photoshop retouches magazine covers? Have you ever noticed that my dear friend Sarah Jessica Parker is not only in soft focus while hustling Garnier Nutrisse, the large mole on her chin is mysteriously absent?

We are surrounded by ways to sell us an unreachable perfection. But Susan Boyle gives the the lie to all of that by being an ordinary, beautiful, imperfect curvy woman.



Young, attractive members of the audience were shown on camera snickering before she sang, but once she sang, they were at her feet.

You can watch it by clicking on the title of this particular entry, in fact.

It is a rather long clip, but quite worth it! It has become an Internet sensation, in fact.

One hopes that all of the lookalike melisma-belting wannabes on countless talent shows learn from this that true ability knows no age limit and does not necessarily look like Taylor Swift.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

The Oscar's Best Dressed 2009!

DAHLINGS -

Naturally by now I've seen all of the other Best and Worst Dressed lists, and I refuse to be swayed by the opinions of others. Here is your faithful correspondent's list of Oscar's Best Dressed, as the common folk like to phrase it.

TINA FEY

She may not be a movie star (yet), but this young woman led the pack by a mile in a classic retro-styled silver glamour gown that fit perfectly and reminded one of a brunette Carole Lombard. Brava, diva! Please let me know who made this dress!

QUEEN LATIFAH

As I wrote earlier, the Queen ruled in deep, rich blue crystal-trimmed Georges Chakra.

JENNIFER ANISTON

She confounded the Brangelina crowd by appearing healthy and happy in Valentino Couture, accompanied by companion Josh Mayer (who had made a side-splitting appearance on the final Conan O'Brian programme).

Take that, tabloids!

VIOLA DAVIS

I am astonished that Reem Acra could actually make such a stunning dress for a curvaceous actress. Dazzling, glamorous, MOVIE STAR!

MERYL STREEP

An actress in the prime of life in a perfectly draped matte gray dress by Ferretti. Good taste personified.

MELISSA LEO

This may seem like an unusual choice, but as with the Worst Dressed, in a sea of safety, she chose to dress with individuality. In this case, it worked. Melissa's copper-colored dropwaist gown complimented both her hair and skin.

(Note: the night before, she won the Independent Spirit Award in a lovely flowing gown--but then, almost everyone looked far better at the Independent Spirit Awards.)

It may seem like a short list, but your faithful correspondent feels that she has made her opinions known in previous posts (and to be honest, menswear does not interest me in the least).

Off for a long, hot scented bath. I do worry that after these critiques, my dear friend Sarah Jessica Parker will cease making me her special secret scented soap! But one must be true to oneself, ne c'est pas?

Speaking of which, for another excellently unbiased look at what the red carpet had to offer to true tomatoes and cherry tomatoes, read The Three Tomatoes Red Carpet Review! http://www.thethreetomatoes.com/reviews.html.

I'm certain Sarah Jessica Parker won't be making special scented soap for them, but it did make me laugh!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Lana Turner Gives Me A Warning...

DAHLINGS –

Let me tell you a story.

A few nights ago, I was lying abed, in my usual wisp of chiffon, a scented candle made by Sarah Jessica Parker burning near the bed. Bucky was in his little dog bed, making soft woofing noises, presumably chasing a one-foot-high Andre Leon Talley in his dreams. I was in that mystic state between sleep and waking.

And then I heard someone softly calling my name. Thinking my assistant had locked herself in the armoire or some such, my eyes snapped open and I said, “WHAT DO YOU WANT?”

Standing before me, as beautiful as ever, was my dear dead friend Lana Turner!

She was in her spangled costume from “Dancing Co-Ed,” back in her red-haired days, and gazing at me with a disapproving smile on her lovely young face.

“Lana, dahling! How nice to see you, and without even a medium around!” I cried, sitting up. Bucky looked up, blinked, and went back to sleep. Dogs are overly pragmatic sometimes, if you ask moi.

“Oh, honey, I had to come. I’ve been watching you for a while.”

“Moi? Whatever for?”

Lana hesitated, and then said, “The way you treat your help. I mean, when I was alive I was plenty temperamental, and I fired my fair share of folks. But you—you’ve got to slow down! Soon you’ll simply run out of hired help! Even prisoners on work release wouldn’t work for you.”

I drew myself up, gathering my wisp around me. “I hardly think my attitude towards the idiots I hire is your business, my dear Mademoiselle Turner. After all, things have changed since your time. People don’t know their place.”

She shrugged her shoulders, sparkling slightly. “There’s something I learned about where I’ve been, honey. It’s called karma. Or as we used to say, what goes around, comes around. And oh, boy, do you have it coming around! When I was first at Metro, and I wasn’t a star, they worked me like a dog. School, acting lessons, dancing lessons, publicity—I didn’t have a minute free. That’s what you’re doing to your staff, and they don’t get to be movie stars in return like I did.”

“Merde,” I retorted.

Lana threw up her hands. “Okay, don’t listen. But you’ll see what I mean, if you know what I mean. See ya round the séance table!”

And with that she vanished. But I was later to learn exactly what she meant.

To be continued –

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

As Ever, Gracious In Defeat...

Dahlings -

And the winner of The Great Pose Off is. . . Fred. The polls do not lie.

(Although there have been some rumors that the poll was rigged by jealous vintage sellers out to sabotage my burgeoning modeling career. Don't let anyone know you heard it from me.)

However, in truly gentlemanly fashion, Fred pronounced that we are "co-winners"!

Because, after all, The Great Pose Off was my brainchild. And because we brought so much joy with our little contest to the great unwashed out there in Ebay-land. In fact, one seller, who goes by the ID of majickal_moon* created a picture of Fred and me with the Great Pose Off Trophy:



(I admit that I do not expect this to do me any good where A Dress A Day is concerned. But one cannot have everything.)

Fred has won my admiration, which is not easy. I admire very few people, among them President Clinton and Dita Von Tease, for the wonderful way she takes care of her poor handicapped husband. And of course my dear dead friend Lana Turner, who offered to pose for me, until I had to break it to her that generally speaking, dead people do not photograph well. They go all ectomorphic or protoplasmic or whatever that word is for "gray and foggy."

In the meantime, to business. For the discriminating buyer, I have some delightful items in my shop.

Soft Brown Faux Fur Coat, New With Tags, size 3X:

SOLD

Satin Wrap Robe, size 8X, in gold, red and burgundy:



Long Blue Stretch Velvet Dress, 3X, and Vintage Milk Glass Bead Matinee Necklace:

DRESS: SOLD
NECKLACE: In My Store

I must hie myself off to bed, after taking a hot scented bath (using the fragrance specially created for me by wee Sarah Jessica Parker). I wish you all a good night.

Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky The Wonderdog

*One suspects this ID has something to do with dancing naked at night, hmmm?

Rummy, We Hardly Knew Ye...Rumsfeld's Departure

Dahlings -

I'm still recovering from that wild post-election party I went to. A conga line of Democrats, the Republicans hiding in the library, puffing cigars and grumbling...it was such fun!

But one has to atone for one's sins, so today I am drinking green tea for its antioxidants and eating chocolate, because...well, because.

And now Donald Rumsfeld has stepped down. That image always makes me imagine someone stepping off a wooden apple box in the middle of a meadow, I don't know why. I'm not up to any Deep Thoughts myself, but I received the most charming note today from a stricken reader, poor fellow.

Dear Ms. Hoardmeister -

I've written to you because I thought you would understand my problem. I've always had problems with men. My last boyfriend was Morgan. Morgan was…well, he was special. Tall, handsome, and always on top. That’s what I need. Once I touched his bunghole, he didn’t speak to me for three days!

I know, I know, too much information, but that’s me, in my head, out my mouth. Finally I cried and asked him to forgive me, and then everything was all right. Until Morgan dumped me for a hot Asian waiter at the Saigon Grill. That used to be our place. Men like Morgan, they do what they want. Men like me, I do what they want, what can I say?

I'm writing to you, Ms. Hoardmeister, because I’m in love. I really am. But I can’t tell anybody. It’s like when I was growing up. Being gay was “the love that dare not speak its name.” Well, it’s worse.

I’m in love… with a… Republican.

Please don't hate me. This is the real thing, I can tell from the way I feel when I see him on CNN. I was killing time in Borders Bookstore, and I picked up a copy of Rumsfeld: A Personal Portrait, by Midge Decter. I thought I’d have myself a good snicker. But the word she used to describe him was: manliness. And oh, yes, those photos of him in a college-wrestling outfit--I’d like to be underneath him on a mat!

I had to buy the book, Ms. Hoardmeister. I made sure they put it in a bag. He’s my dream man: Donald Rumsfeld: the ex-Secretary of Defense. I can tell he’s a top.

I never watched the news, but I became a CNN junkie, just waiting for Donny to come on. Those teeth, that smile…I don’t call him Rummy like other folk, I call him Donny. It’s my pet name.

I fantasize about our perfect evening together. Donny would pick me up at my hotel in a big limo, and then he’d take me out for dinner at the Capital Grill. That’s up there in DC. He’d probably drink something real sophisticated, and I’d have a pina colada. And we’d have the best table. Everybody would be looking at us and talking about what’s going on. His wife knows he’s gay. But you gotta be careful about the media. Even they get tired of writing about Brangelina! Donny’s got two butch lesbian bodyguards, they are so interesting, they used to have to guard the Bush twins. But that got to be too much nightlife so they asked to switch.

He’d order for me, and he’d remember what I like. Donny wouldn’t even have to look at the menu. Because he’d care so much. He’d order me a hamburger, and he knows I don’t like American cheese, he’d remember I like goat cheese, it’s real sweet. (Most people from the South don’t like goat cheese.) We’d have a nice long dinner. He’d tell me all about his plans for the war, whichever war it was, there’s so many going on all the time. It’s hard to keep up!

Donny would confide in me how stupid President Bush is and how crazy-making it is to try to get Dubya to understand a single thing. Even with pictures. One problem is that Dubya is irrelevant, you know what I mean? Who listens to him any more? Now he’s trying to ban gay marriage. The whole world going to hell in a hand basket and Dubya wants to ban gay marriage. That’s the problem in Iraq; all those crazy gay couples blowing up US troops. Please. Well, at least Dubya said he’s the “Decider” when it came to Donny and all those generals. The “Decider.” Sounds like a character in a bad video game, doesn’t it?

Donny would say he won’t go hunting with Dick Cheney, ‘cause once that ole guy has a shotgun and a couple of Stella Artois in ‘im, you better look out! Donny calls him “Deadeye Dick.”

After dinner, we wouldn’t have dessert at the Capital Grill. ‘Cause it’s kinda bright and noisy. We’d go somewhere dark with a candle. Dessert and coffee. Something fruity, ‘cause with all the kissing that’s gonna happen, you wanna eat something clean. Like lemon sorbet at a wedding. ‘Cause you don’t want to feel all full when you have Donald Rumsfeld lying on top of you.

And we’d go back to my hotel, and I don’t have to tell you what would happen next. Other than that would be lots and lots of explosions. Oh, that night would absolutely nuclear. In a good way. He has totally occupied my heart. He’d invade me again and again, but I wouldn't ever want him to pull out.

And now it's all over, and he's leaving the government. I am heartbroken. I can only hope his replacement is suitably butch.

Thanks so much for listening! I feel so much better. Kisses!

Poor, sweet boy, such an innocent. I can't answer for the replacement's masculinity, but I hope he is a suitable match. I know what unrequited love feels like all too well, although in my case it wasn't for a man, it was for a Vionnet snatched up by an unfeeling witch with no feel for true quality. It haunts me to this day.

Oh, dear, I am completely fatigued. Off to take a hot scented bath using my specially hand-made soap by Sarah Jessica Parker.

Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the Wonderdog

Tiny Sarah Jessica Parker's Soap

Dahlings,

I had the most EXCRUCIATING adventure yesterday! But I am still trembling, and ever so fatigued, so the telling of my escape will have to wait until later today.

For now I have to have my maid draw a hot bath (no, not with a pencil, you hooligans), and soak in the tub with my custom-made lavender fragranced soap that Sarah Jessica Parker created just for moi...it had a little SJP monogram on it, until it got washed off.

Sarah's a lovely little person, very little, in fact she frequently gets lost when she stands behind Salma Hayek or Anna Nicole Smith in crowds. But with Anna Nicole, who wouldn't? Not that I should speak ill of one of my sisters in bosomhood. But Anna Nicole is even more common than my assistant, and that is saying something.



Until later, dahlings -

Elisa and Bucky The Wonderdog