Tomorrow: The Paul Lynde Halloween Spectacular!

DAHLING -

Who doesn't love and miss the great Paul Lynde? Whether on Hollywood Squares or Bewitched or any number of television and movies, Lynde was always acerbic and delightful. To most of America he was in the closet. But really. That closet door was wide open. So I simply HAD to run this announcement for all residents of the tri-state area!

Tomorrow at the Pyramid Club:

1984 At The Pyramid Club!

We're ramping up to Halloween with our spooktacular annual screening of THE PAUL LYNDE HALLOWEEN SPECIAL --- with guest stars BETTY WHITE, Florence Henderson, Donny & Marie, and Kiss!

The special will run endlessly together throughout the night! Definitely the campiest and strangest holiday special ever made!



Upstairs, dance all night to your favorite 80’s tunes by Culture Club, George Michael, Cyndi Lauper, Prince, Madonna, Cher, Pet Shop Boys & the rest. Drink specials!

Friday, Nov. 22
1984 at Pyramid
101 Avenue A
21 & over with ID * $8 * www.SpinCycleNYC.com * Doors open at 10 PM

For a synopsis of the special, you can visithttp://dougsploitation.blogspot.com/2008/10/paul-lynde-halloween-special.html

Be there or be hopelessly un-hip.

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

Project Runway on Steroids: The Fashion Show

DAHLINGS -

Now that Bravo has lost "Project Runway," they have seen fit to create, as they say in the fashion business, a knock-off. "The Fashion Show." Oh yes, the trim is different, perhaps the skirt is shorter and the material is definitely cheaper. But the echoes are there, and not to the show's advantage.

It is not meant to be "Project Runway"--there is no Tim Gunn mentoring the designers, the fashions are displayed at the end before a live audience--but of course the spirit of its predecessor hovers over the program. Fifteen designers compete to become the Final Four, with an elimination each week.

By far the best part of the show, IMO, was the runway show. The set is well-designed, and the excitement of a live audience makes it feel almost like we are watching a real fashion show. However, the lack of time spent in the workroom was a problem. Your faithful correspondent watches "Project Runway" to see the designers design, create and execute the challenges, but there was so much hugger-mugger on this show that the workroom barely had a cameo appearance.

It seems that the producers are trying to up the annoyance quotient with the designers, making it easier to root for them to be eliminated: Merlin, winner of the first week's challenge, a squeaky gentleman from Honduras, managed to wear the most irritating headgear since Madonna's appearance at the Metropolitan Museum Costume Gala.

And if he's 38, I'm five feet tall.

Johnny R., who has a topknot and is prone to other annoying things on his head; and Kristin, who has simply settled for annoying hair.


Most of the other designers have yet to display much personality.


Isaac, Kelly, and Fern, oh my!

The two hosts are designer/unable to escape from media personality Isaac Mizrahi and singer Kelly Rowland. Where her fashion credibility lies escapes your faithful correspondent, but she hasn't had a hit single in some time and she's very photogenic. (I think that's about it, so far, unless she has an evil twin side that hasn't come out yet.) Isaac, who I have adored ever since he declared "fat is the new black" two years ago, is amazingly cruel in his comments to the young designers, and almost none of the show outside of the workroom seemed spontaneous. Honestly, I don't know why they bothered to show Isaac and Kelly interacting; it felt as stiff as high school theater. Fern Mallis, at least, is the senior vice president at IMG, which produces Fashion Week.

The challenge was to produce a "must-have" item and design a collection around it, the designers working in teams. But honestly, baggy purple satin harem pants as a "must-have" item?

The other choices were a black bolero jacket, and an extremely tight camel-colored wool tube skirt/dress/sprained ankle bandage.

One hoped that Kristin would get the boot both for that hideous Alice in Wonderland on acid dress and then one wouldn't have to look at her hair again. (She concealed the tube skirt under all of that fuss.)

But, instead, Jonny (without an R)was let go because of his "slutty," amazingly tight dress. He went in the opposite direction and showcased the skirt! When an emaciated model can't fit into something, you know that the designer has an experience problem.

To sum up, the show isn't good, it isn't bad, it's watchable, and like every other competition show on Bravo. At least it's something to watch now that "House" has had its season finale.

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

Met Museum Costume Gala's Worst Dressed 2009

DAHLINGS -

To put it mildly, there was an abundance of riches to choose from at last night's Metropolitan Museum gala for "Model To Muse", a celebration of models in the recent decades of fashion. The worst faux pas did not come from the models, who, for the most part, wear what they're told. No, it was the celebrities who outdid themselves.

Number one, of course, is Madonna. What can one say about this Louis Vuitton Playboy bunny-meets-Dumpster-Diving outfit? Except ugh.

The fingerless gloves and ultra-tight face makes one wonder if she might have been spending too much time with Karl Lagerfeld. What a shame that Madge has reached the age where she has to dress eccentrically to be noticeable (or at least she thinks she does). After all, being number one on all the polls for worst-dressed is better than no press at all, isn't it?

Or is it? Poor deluded soul.

One would think that January Jones in a gold dress would spell red carpet success. However, they would be sadly mistaken.

Not only does it do nothing for her beautiful body, it also looks like something bought out of a catalog.

Molly Sims also bucked the neutral trend and wore gold, but this Dolce & Gabbana 80s-era flashback dress did nothing for her.

As for Rhianna, I will leave the reader to imagine what I would say about her relationship with Chris Brown having something to do with her choice of outfit:

At least she doesn't have to worry about looking too attractive for a change.

Poor Liz Goldwyn! Her new Rodarte gown got absolutely drenched in the heavy rain, and the dye ran all over the place. (You should see the seats of her limousine!)

The most horrible part of the evening was when Shalom Harlow got eaten by her dress, shortly after this photo was taken. It was rather like the hungry plant in "Little Shop of Horrors." By the end of the evening there was nothing left but a large pile of black satin and a fingernail. Shalom, we hardly knew ye.

But wait, there's more! Here is Leighton Meester in a dress that only a crazed designer could love (and the leggings, dear God, the leggings!).

Like Madonna, she is also in Louis Vuitton. What does that fashion house have against women?

Kerry Washington's dress simply baffled me, so it is at the bottom of my list. It's not good, it's not bad, it's just...all over the place.

And once again, the dress is by Louis Vuitton. Does one sense a pattern here?

Finally, not necessarily the worst dressed, but certainly the most frightening: Tyra Banks. She looked like Joan Crawford about to go on a rampage.

Too bad she didn't taken on the dress that ate Shalom Harlow. That would have been a battle to watch!

More later!

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

How Did Jane Austen DO It??

DAHLINGS -

Get your minds out of the gutter at once!

What I mean, of course, is how did she manage to write so many books? How did her BRAIN keep up the sheer stream of creativity??

As you all know, I am currently penning a deathless tome of my own, and let me tell you, it is more than hard work. It is sheer AGONY! If I'd had any sense, I would have hired one of those ghostwriters who penned Madonna's children's books or Ethan Hawke's poetry...

The details, the dialogue, the blank computer screen pulsing like the spectre of DOOM...maybe I should combine a Jane Austen novel with mine, the way that fellow did with the newly published "Pride And Prejudice And Zombies."

Mine could be "A Diary of Sense and Sensibility and Exquisitely Good Taste." Hm, without Zombies, it lacks a certain--panache, shall we say. But if I call it "Diary of A Mad Zombie," that would change the plot SO much.

And to be honest, I have never liked eating brains. Even poached in wine.

Back to lashing the Muse...pray for me!

Ciao,
Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

A Fabulous Party--In Brooklyn, Of All Places!

DAHLINGS -

I am still not quite myself, but nonetheless, I simply could not RESIST when I received the following invitation:



Deb Malkin has dared to open a shop in these troubled economic times, and I say BRAVA! Yes, we sell similar merchandise in some ways, but as I have written before, a rising tide lifts all boats. And the shop is in Brooklyn, where my high heels have barely, if ever, trod. Nevertheless, I gave the order to my limo driver to take me there!

Well, it was quite the evening! Your faithful correspondent usually goes to soirees where Krug is flowing and the male guests are in black tie. However, this was a walk on the wild side if ever there was one! Male guests, when one could spot them, most times turned out to be female.

My wardrobe choice was a cobalt blue suit from the 1960s with a sheared beaver collar dyed to match (it was, after all, 7 degrees outside). As for the more obviously female guests, my beloved readers, they were almost entirely plus sized, and it was an absolute SEA of cleavage! Deb herself was wearing a tartan-trimmed bustier skirt combination that had been custom-made for her, and her bounteous bosom was certainly on show. I brought a hostess gift of eight polyester maxi-dresses...it seemed the only appropriate thing, don't you think?

Being a woman of broad mind and loose morals, I was not thrown for a moment by being probably one of the few heterosexuals there (and as my long-time readers know, I am ready to cross over if it means a particularly lucrative sale). In fact, it was delightful to be surrounded by large, lovely ladies in beautiful clothes from all eras, proudly showing what they had! Take THAT, Karl Lagerfeld!

So I drank sparkling apple juice served by a handsome woman in an impeccable suit and tie, nibbled on some nibbles. One friend who was in attendance was the ever-witty Stephanie Schroeder, my publicist, and our friend Lisa Haas, a playwright. However, they were fatigued and left before the show started.

They missed a treat! There were not enough chairs, but fortunately for moi, my height proves to be an advantage in these situations. Les danseuses were, with one exception, ecydiasts (look it up) from the old school of burlesque. World Famous BOB (not certain why her last name is all caps, but celebrities are funny that way) is called that for a reason...it was as if one was watching Gypsy Rose Lee crossed with The Lady Bunny.

Photo by Sara Macel

There were also go-go dancers of considerable heft, and a belly dancer from Washington, DC who proved that you don't have to be built like Madonna to shake it and not break it. Oh, mon Dieu, did I just write that? One believes one did. Her name is Miasia, and the photo does not do her justice! Her website is http://www.miasia.org/.

Now that I am feeling slightly better, you shall be hearing from me more often.

Ciao,

Elisa & Bucky the Wonderdog

HAPPY NEW YEAR! & Step Aside, Kate Moss!

DAHLINGS -

In the last few minutes of the old year, I must tell you a tale. A tale of courage, a tale of genius, a tale of magnificence. All of it mine, of course.

There is another seller on Ebay, a man who presumes to dress in womens' vintage clothing. I believe this gentleman thinks that he is amusing. Perhaps, in a sordid way. However, my delicate sensibilities were so offended at womens' clothing being thus mistreated, I set out to beat him at his own game.

No, I did not have a sex change.

Instead, I challenged the man to a POSING CONTEST on Ebay, which is going on as I write this. I knew that, even if I am not a professional model, I could outpose this poseur, if you will pardon the pun. Normally I shrink from publicity, unlike, say, that tight-faced pr slut Madonna. But if I was to do this properly, I would have to let the spotlight shine on my creamy white skin.

We chose two forms of vintage auctions. One is called "indie boho emo," which seems to mean "ugly 70s clothes bought at exorbitant prices by teenagers." The other is called "rare couture," which needs no explanation, n'cest pas? In the titles we put the letters GPO, for "Great Pose Off." (I would have preferred something more literate, but one mustn't confuse one's buyers.)

The auctions started in the wee hours of Thursday night, and instantly became phenomenons far beyond what anyone expected (except me).

The reason your faithful correspondent is telling you this is so that you, dahlings, have the opportunity to Vote For Me, because a Vote For Elisa Is A Vote For Vintage In The True Sense.

Here is what you do--go to Ebay, with as many of your Ebay IDs as you care to use, go to the Vintage Clothing Category, and search "GPO" in Womens Vintage Clothing. Or, to make it simpler, you can click on the link to my store, Elisa's Bodacious House of Style, and find my auctions there. On my "About Me" page is a link to the poll, hosted by Trophy Girl Vintage, bless her.

In the spirit of fair play, I should inform you that the man is question sells under the ID shop4youby4me. But I know you will vote for moi.

Because a man in a dress is funny, and that is such an unfair advantage. Strike a blow for women everywhere, and Vote For Me!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Elisa & Bucky The Wonderdog

Chatting With Lana Turner - Plus Today's Fashion Tip!

Dahlings -

Tonight I turn my attention to lighter topics. It's time to start Christmas Shopping for all of your loved ones, and what better place than my store, Elisa's Bounteous House of Style (link at your right)? The Vintage Blowout Sale is still going on, until November 29th. And I am also stocking my store with plenty of goodies for her, him, and the four-legged set. For example:

Patrick Cox black satin evening slippers with rhinestone buckles:


Cunning little Christmas wreath pierced earrings:


Goldtone faux ruby brooch by Monet:


Vintage stunning 50s R&K Originals turquoise wool dress, size Large:


Vintage 60s tan wool Italian cut man's two-piece suit, 42 Long:


And so much more! Yes, it is indeed a great deal of work, but as long as my personal assistant scurries at the sound of my footsteps, it is all getting done.

Which is how it should be, n'cest pas?

This weekend I attended a seance, and who should pop in but my dear dead friend Lana Turner. Lana is such a delight. We sat in the corner and chatted about the recent revelations about the bisexuality of both Katherine Hepburn and her longtime beloved, Spencer Tracy (or "Ol' Granite Face," as Lana calls him). Although it is a trifle unnerving to picture Spencer in a passionate clinch with Jimmy Stewart, as Lana said, "They can say anything about you after you're dead, and I oughta know."

Lana is a trifle envious of today's stars, who can be openly, even annoyingly, gay (Rosie O'Donnell leaps to mind), or bisexual (Madonna, although I doubt whether she notices her bed partners--she is far too busy staring at her ceiling mirror). Lana herself prefers gentlemen, but her daughter is a lesbian and it does not bother Lana in the least. "For one thing, women smell so much better than men," she remarked to me. "Anyway, most women. Some of 'em smell like tuna that's been out of the can too long, if you catch my drift."

If she had been corporeal, I would have patted her hand and agreed. But maybe it's better I didn't. One would have hated to have one's actions misconstrued.

Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky The Wonderdog

TODAY'S FASHION TIP:
"As a seller, I feel black velvet....all velvets, but particularly black.....is the most underrated textile in the vintage world. It indeed is more common, and as dressier items tended to be the ones people held onto, it's more plentiful. But despite that.....it's still the most elegant. Easily accessorized, instantly glamorous. "
Vintage or Bust, the eVintage Society blog

"Haute Cou-Poor" - Thank God It's Friday!

THANK GOD IT’S FRIDAY!

Forgive me for using that unpardonable cliché, dahlings, but it is all too true!

I have spent all week up to my exfoliated elbows in “Haute Cou-Poor,” my program at the Fashion Institute of Technology. My nerves are stretched tighter than Madonna’s face! Sending out invitations to speakers such as Andre Leon Talley, P. Diddy or whatever he’s calling himself these days, Georgina Chapman, and many of my other comperes in fashion. It will do the ‘students’, as we are calling them (for tax reasons) so much good to listen to people who know of what they speak. I say, if we can talk just ONE student out of tattooing their neck, then my job is done.

Of course, there has to be an opening night party. It is to be held at the Beatrice Inn, a tres chic club that was once down on its luck but seems to be on the rebound. Although Courtney Love did hold her book party there—one does hope they cleaned up the stains afterwards. My first choice was the Gramercy Park Hotel. But that is still under construction because Julian Schnabel is just too fussy for words. Slap up some sheetrock, Julian, get the Picassos hung, and c’est fini!

So much to do, so much to DO! The guest list for the party is already ten pages long, and one knows that there will be any number of arrivistes trying to get in by saying they know moi. The doorkeepers shall wear white gloves and be...how can one put this tactfully...brutal if they must.

Meanwhile, my assistant keeps complaining about her workload! The lazy brute always seems to be staring into space when I come into the office, then jerks out of her reverie when I clear my throat.

When last I demanded, “What can you be thinking about,” she answered, “Suicide.” One supposes that is her idea of a joke. Personally, I prefer the dog poo worn on the duck-billed caps back in North Carolina, if you’re going to sink that low for humor. (See my earlier entry about visiting the Dixie Classic Fair.)

You will have to excuse me, I need to go agonize over what I am to wear! I have nothing, NOTHING! Three walk-in closets and not a single rag worthy of the name!

Oh, I've been so distracted, I forgot to report that a lovely gentleman at Michael Kors purchased my vintage faux fur handbag. Look for them to proliferate under the MK name next season!




Grab the hottest styles while you can at my Ebay store.

Vintage 50s Faux Fur Coat With Satin Leopard Lining XL:


Dior Navy Blue High Heeled Pumps, size 11:


And ever so much more!

And to answer the many inquiries as to what I dressed as for Halloween: I dressed as myself, because there is no one more fabulous.

Sincerely,
Elisa and Bucky The Wonderdog