The Neverending Fashion Victim

Did anyone besides me think that just maybe Mrs. Wearstler watched The Neverending Story II one too many times??

Let me explain...

What is your Drag Queen name?

Your Drag Queen Name Is:

Connie Lingus

Drag Queen Name Generator

Tacky man or Tacky woman?

This photo was taken at the Grammy's. That should explain it a little at least. Maybe this photo will help...
But seriously, it is Steven Cojocaru. He is a flamboyantly gay fashion critic. He wrote the Red Carpet Diaries. So what in the hell was he doing wearing that hideous jacket at the Grammys??

Also, that haircut does not suit his face. It makes him look like a soccer mom.

A Worthy Patron Saint

I must direct anyone reading this blog with a sense of humor to a wonderful blog full of witty material... Pink Navy

You just have to admire a site that names a woman as fabulous as Diana Vreeland as their patron saint.

This woman is a force not to be reckoned with. Her fabulousness is undeniable. Kay Thompson's character in Funny Face has nothing on this woman. She is glamour, she is fashion, she is a true DIVA.

Here is a very good synopsis on her life and career written by Blair Schulman on Divas-The Site.

"Balenciaga did the most delicious evening clothes. Clothes aren’t delicious any more."

If the Society Diva of yore had a Little Buddy, it might be Jacques Cartier of Cartier, the jeweler to High Society. If these same Divas had a Number One Dinner Invite, they would definitely nominate Wallis, the Duchess of Windsor as the guest who can out-dress the rest. But if there were one person to whom they could all turn to as the last word in style, it would certainly be Diana Vreeland. Mrs. Vreeland was the beginning and the end in all things chic. Her persona and dictums were not to be overlooked or ignored.

Rather than a mere silver spoon, some Divas were born with an entire set of platinum cutlery in their mouths, thereby failing to grasp the meaning of overkill. Outsized, gilt-edged and studded with enough bibelots to blind the Sun King, some of these women have taken their diamond-encrusted, mink-trimmed coals to Newcastle and created a big, sooty mess. Women of lesser means and lesser taste often took their cue from the very, very rich to believe that more is more. It is why someone like Diana Vreeland was able to exist. She bridged the gap between tacky and hideous to create that splendiferous hallowed ground called chic. Whether or not one could learn it, or had to be born with it, is still heavily debated. No matter, there emerged a symbol for looking good in this world and how could you not respect a woman who summed up style with the mere words, "Elegance is refusal?" Any pretense attributed to her stylish imprimatur is purely coincidental.

"The best thing about London is Paris."

Never one for humble aspirations, DV, as she was often referred to, hit the ground running. Born in Paris to British parents she never even spoke English until her family moved to New York at the start of World War I. Diana studied ballet and likely got a feel for fluidity in movement, a hallmark of style. In 1924, she married banker Thomas Reed Vreeland and eventually had two children. The Reed Vreelands were not rich at all, but were socially connected, called "good goods" and welcomed in the best homes. For a time they lived in Albany, New York, then moved to Paris in 1935. A bright, educated couple, the two were avid readers and grasped an understanding of the world at large. "… and Reed and I would read things together out loud, which was marvelous. That was the charm of it - when you've heard the word, it means so much more than if you've only seen it."

Upon her return to the United States in 1937 she began work as a fashion editor for Harper’s Bazaar. At the time, the fashion industry was a gathering storm of greatness. Schiaparelli, Chanel, Mainbocher and Charles James, to name a few, were all leaving their mark in the world of haute couture. Employment at the magazines was acceptable for ladies of gentle birth who wanted to have careers before heading into brilliant marriages. Babe Paley, Doris Duke and Slim Keith all worked at Harper’s Bazaar at one time or another, offering their style and perspective to the magazine. Not to mention their unique ability to be among the rare few who could actually afford the designs of these magnificent couturiers.

"Pink is the navy blue of India."

Better than everyone, DV understood change and how we now lived in a visual age. As with life itself, one must recreate a certain dis-unity, angular poses, hands and feet being what they are – movement, a surprise at the ready and isn’t that what life is but a menagerie of surprise?

She inspired everyone from debutantes to drag queens with her mark on fashion. Or perhaps it was the other way around. With her heavily rouged cheekbones, mile-long lashes and red lacquer everywhere - trademarks that identified her for decades - one could imagine they were in the presence of a modern Watteau, reality presented to the viewer with a gentle caress. In terms of her personal style, Diana loved simple elegant clothing with splashy accessories. Exotic jewelry, hats and wonderful shoes were among her favorite fashion items.

Not all descriptions of her looks were generous, however, someone once described her having the face of a wooden drug-store Indian. But her clothing was the essence of chic – a simple dress, properly accessorized, one outstanding object that explained everything, not twenty expensive baubles that meant nothing.

"She makes the smallest detail important." Andy Warhol

At Harper’s Diana soon began changing the way fashion was reported to the public. Instead of simply reporting the styles and trends of fashion, Diana began to create, to motivate and popularize, certain objects, attitudes and ideas. She did this with her legendary observations, comments, wit and humor, keeping the American public - always wanting more. Readers began to learn of DV’s stratospheric thinking with her column, "Why Don’t You?" Such suggestions as "Cut up your old ermine wrap into a bathrobe!" and ‘Why don’t you wash your child’s hair in champagne?" were typical offerings. While not always the most practical advice, she made for good copy and struck a chord with the American woman who saw that the rules of good taste were bendable, as long as you did it with style.

She became fashion director two years later and stayed at the magazine until 1963, when she moved to Vogue. On one occasion during a fashion layout, Diana was informed that a phrase, "windbreaker" was already copyrighted. She rushed into the copy room and demanded, "Quick, what's another word for breaking wind?" On another occasion she created a two-page layout of a nude female lying face down in the sand, her derriere covered in a large black straw hat. The caption read, "Spend the summer under a big black sailor."

"Never fear being vulgar, just boring"

Her ability to spot talent brought us some of fashions’ best-known faces. She discovered Lauren Hutton in the 1960’s who went on to become one of the most photographed models, ever. She appeared on the cover of Vogue 25 times. And there is Iman's recollection of her first meeting with Mrs. Vreeland. "She put a bony hand under my chin, realigned my head to a profile position and pronounced: "Now, that's a neck!"

Even the décor of her apartment on Park Avenue had the air of invention. Armed with the thought "Garden in Hell," she and famed decorator Billy Baldwin created a hideaway completely decorated in lacquer reds with scarlet colored floral wall coverings, memorabilia and books. In the center of her living room was a bright red sofa piled high with an impressive collection of cushions, gilded mirrors and picture frames and delicate wall moldings.

With all that magic emanating from this one woman, one might think it could go on forever. Sadly though, without any fanfare at all, the chief of Conde Nast Publications, Si Newhouse, fired her in 1971. There was never a reasonable explanation of her termination. Either way, it was a heartbreaking mistake and a cruel response to a woman who devoted her life to style. Apparently the company had a history of letting people go without actually firing them directly – passive-aggressive business to the nth degree.

An evenhanded moment came when Mr. Newhouse found himself across a desk with Diana Vreeland staring at him. Though Newhouse had one of his flunkies let Vreeland know her services were no longer required, Vreeland apparently wished to hear the news from Si himself. After a long silence, Newhouse apparently found the courage and the words to let Vreeland go -- but was spooked by nightmares for some time afterward. It was a fierce moment in Ms. Vreelands professional life – a final chance to retain a shred of dignity which had been so callously ripped away.

One man’s discard is another man’s treasure and soon Diana was named a special consultant to the Costume Institute at the Metropolitan Museum. As special consultant from 1973 to 1989, she organized with the staff of the Costume Institute a series of highly popular exhibitions, including "The World of Balenciaga" (1973), "Romantic and Glamorous Hollywood Design" (1974), "The Glory of Russian Costume" (1976), and "Vanity Fair: A Treasure Trove of the Costume Institute" (1977). Her cache and knowledge can now be experienced by a broader audience. This world-renown appreciation is best shown as the Costume Institute Ball has become the hottest social ticket in town.

"Without emotion there is no beauty."

It is terrible to end with her death as someone like Diana Vreeland doesn’t merely die, but in 1989 she did leave this world for another - doing fabulous things with fluffy clouds and harps, no doubt.

Queens of the Parade

Scarlett Johansson led a parade of students including young men dressed in drag to receive Harvard University's irreverent Hasty Pudding Theatricals award yesterday.

As if she needed to ender herself to me any more, she got to lead a parade of fabulous drag queens! Lucky heiffer.

Project Runway Season 2, Episode 1

My Take:

Living up the the talent in season 1 was never going to be easy. However, our contestants actually had an idea what to expect so it should be a little easier for them, right? Well, you certainly wouldn't think so from the results we saw. These designers had 8 days, as well as a very defined task before them. The results underwhelmed me.

I think some designers have a hard time expressing in one look their aesthetic, and doing it well. I will grant you that Muslin is not the absolute best fabric to work with. Most designers use it solely to establish fit for garments. It is a cheap fabric and it can be hard to make Muslin look good. But is it too much to ask that a top designer be able to pull it off?

Well, here is my take on the matter:

Who should have won:

Nick

Who should have gone home:

Lupe

Marla

Most of the outfits were very basic, which was to be expected given the materials for the exercise, but there was some good work. But it has to be said it's a good thing these designers picked up their game because if we had remained at this level of talent the whole season, I would have been pissed.

Heart Disease Month and Valentine's Day Cakes

February is full of hearts! Not only do we celebrate Valentine's Day in February, but also Heart Disease month. This issue is one very close to me, as I have lost my Grandfather and son to Heart Disease. I myself have a form of heart disease affecting the valves of my heart.

In response, I have always found this cause to be a great one. Heart disease is the number 1 killer of women in this country. Over 350,000 women are taken from us each year.

This year to help raise money, all proceeds from my cakes this month are going to be donated to the American Heart Association. I always make a donation on February 26, which happens to be the birthday of both my Grandfather and my son who were taken because of this.

Here is an example of some of the cakes I have been selling. So far, as of today I have raised over $500. I usually sell a plate of petit fours like this for around $35.

Valentine's Day is a great generator of orders, and the "heart" theme allows me to get my message across along with my cakes. This cake above is an ice cream cake made with homemade ice cream and dark chocolate hearts and decorations.

The cake above is made with chocolate ganache and "Whoppers" for decorations. I have sold probably 5 of these cakes alone.

The cake above is the cake I made for my daughter's Valentine's Day party at school.

The cake above has been my best seller so far, selling 15 cakes. The chocolates on top are homemade as well as the cake itself.

I made many variations on this cake this year, in different colors and different themes upon request. I think in total I have sold probably 40 cakes and 32 petit fours. I would like to thank all of my friends and relatives who lent a hand and a kitchen when needed.

I still have Mardi Gras to go!!

In the meantime, for those of you reading this blog (no I don't ship cakes) there is something I would like to ask of all of you. Go to http://www.heartforwomen.org and send a letter to your Congress representative asking them to cosponsor the HEART for Women Act.

Also, for those of you that can, please go to http://donate.americanheart.org and give a donation to the American Heart Association. You can make your donation a Memorial or a Tribute, as well as give a general donation.

Again this is a very personal plea and I would like to thank you all in advance for any assistance you can offer in advance.

My Valentines Present

I just had to show it off...

Feminazis go away!

I got in trouble this weekend. No big surprise huh? I was cashing out at a bar that is a favorite hangout of mine on the weekends Friday night. It was taking a while. I am friends with the staff. I got a little impatient, and in my drunken state, I yelled (just as it got quiet, incidentally) "Who has to get a blow job so I can pay my tab and get the hell out of here??" and a lady shot me a nasty look and sniffed that it was sluts like me that gave women a bad name.

Well excuse the hell out of me. Now normally I would have just laughed at her and found my ride and left. But not this time. She could have called me a slut 2 years ago and I would have brushed it off. But I am in a monogamous relationship, I have NEVER cheated on a boyfriend, fiance or husband in my life, and if anyone in my house is getting any at the moment, I sure as hell don't know about it and I'm sure to be pissed when I find out.

So I asked this woman what her problem is and why she had to be such a bitch etc... She said that "people like me" offended her. I assume she meant women who had gotten some since the new millenium rang in.

So being the curious imp I am, I asked her if she could enlighten me as to what kind of person I am, since she has known me all of half a second. And here is what she said....

She said that I am the type of woman who has no respect for myself and through my actions and words command no respect for myself. Furthermore, that my actions and words set the women around me back, making us all look like sluts depending on men to get them through life.

I basically said it sounded like bitter lemons and that I hoped she got laid before that chip on her shoulder got ay bigger.

At that point my girlfriends caught on to what was going on and I let them all rip her a few new holes. I was busy paying my tab and looking for my ride.

But Saturday while I was conversing with my girlfriends about that crazy bitch in the bar, it got to me a little more than it should. I am so sick of people that are dissatisfied with their lives taking it out on everyone else. It especially makes me sick when women do it and wrap it in the cloak of Feminism.

I think Feminism in its purest form is a good thing. Women and Men should have equal rights and social responsibilities. Good theory and I couldn't agree more. But to say that women (like me in the bar) should have a higer social responsibility (like not saying "blow job" in public I guess) just because it might make the other women look bad is bullshit. Even if I was the biggest whore in the world, how does what I do affect the Nancy Reagan wannabe next to me?

Grouping women into one massive group is stupid. It is stereotyping and completely invalid.

Why can't we all celebrate all of our differences, strengths, and even weaknesses?

I need a Hero

Okay... now, this man of the week is a good one.

Gerry (Gerard) Butler has an undeniable sex appeal that any can see. But oh, how many layers there are to this man. He has a voice that can bring you to tears if you ever get the wonderful chance to hear him sing in person. He is a great and modest guy, and probably most notably, he is a real life hero.

While shooting Mrs. Brown, he saved a little boy from drowning. He was given an award for it and everything. He was on a break visiting his mother (who lived close to the set they were shooting on that day) and he rescued a boy from the river nearby who was drowning.

He is from Scotland, went to University to be a lawyer and is close with his mother. Which translates into, he has a sexy accent, he is educated, and he has respect for women.
Swoon...

He has acted in several stage plays, including Trainspotting. He has been seen in the films Mrs. Brown, Tomorrow Never Dies, Tomb Raider, Beowulf, The Phantom of the Opera, and was rumored to have been a close contender for the role of James Bond in Casino Royale.

Pass me a Diet Coke

Remember those infamous Diet Coke commercials with the women working in the high rise drooling over a really hot construction worker? Well, my place of work is currently being expanded, and the paltry choice of construction workers on site has me wishing for Lucky Vanous, the man who was THE hot construction worker in that commercial.

But he has more to his name than the Diet Coke commercials... He had a cameo in Will and Grace as an EMT, He did a stint on All my Children, and he has his own workout video... which he directed himself.

Am I trying to justify ogling this man by listing his accomplishments? Maybe. I do like my men a little smarter than bricks. But he's just so... PURTY... Let's just look at him for a while, shall we?

*sigh*

Cake Highlight

Here is a cake that I did for a friend of mine having a 40th birthday party. It is devils food cake with white icing, covered in marshmallow fondant, painted with icing colors. The bow is made out of fondant died black. I used black frosting for the border of the cake and for the border of the bow to cover the fact I rolled my fondant too thick.

Rain. Eew.

Today is a fine example of why I could not live in Ireland any longer than I did. Rain. I really do not like having to go to work, run errands, etc... in rain. It wreaks havoc on my hair, makeup and wardrobe. And it generally darkens my spirit. I'm not as quick to laugh or make a joke. I just get into the doldrums whenever it rains.

Don't get me wrong, rain isn't always bad. I love nothing more than to curl up on my plush sofa with a magazine or book, or girlie movie and let it pour. A fire would be a nice addition if I had a fireplace. But a cup of hot cocoa will suffice in a pinch.

I have a hard time understanding women that don't mind getting out in the rain. I rarely feel like this when trudging through 3-inch deep puddles walking from my car to work:

But more often feel like this by the time I get home...
Maybe the sun will come back tomorrow...