Swan Song?

O.K., I am the first to admit thumbing my nose at network television, in favor of the off beat fare offered on cable, however, I have my exceptions...Two shows captured my attention like a roadside pile up, "Extreme Makeover", (Beauty, not Home. Is it just me, or does Ty Pennington look like he needs a few weeks at Betty Ford)? and "The Swan". Both had similar premises, taking hopelessly, unattractive, unfashionable, overweight women and re tooling them so they could pass for a reasonably attractive Hostess at a Las Vegas eatery. It was smashing!!!

I never had much patience for the stuff in the middle, but the first and last 10 minutes were riveting. Typically, a contestant would in one surgical session, receive the equivalent of all the reconstruction Cher has endured in a 25 year span.

"Missy's" makeover will include: A brow lift, upper and lower eye lift, rhinoplasty, chin and cheek implants, 14 porcelain veneers, Botox, Restylane, a chemical peel, Lasik eye surgery, hair extensions, a breast lift and silicone implants, a tummy tuck and upper and lower body liposuction. Really??? On "Missy", or a cadaver??? Painfully, swollen and still bandaged like the English Patient, "Missy" would then be put on a rigorous diet and exercise regime. The end game, was to appear in a plunging full length Nolan Miller gown, to the gasping applause of family and friends.

So, wha happind??? Both of these shows, virtually, vanished, despite banner ratings...Did some vocal society form an Ethical Treatment of the Sad and Hopeless, and start a movement? Did the medical profession take umbrage at their peers, for trampling the Hippocratic Oath, "First Do No Harm"? Or, were the networks simply overrun by thousands of hopefuls wishing to be made into completely, different human beings? John becomes Jane??? Sounds like a Holiday special to me.

What do you say girls, should we start a grass roots effort, to lobby the networks for another go? I know a fine spot to do some recruiting...a little slice of Americana called Disney World. They could fill that dance card in fifteen minutes flat. Oh stop tsk tsking...the image of bad perms, bad skin, and 60 oz. soda's is permanently etched in my consciousness and yours too.

xox,
Dd

Brun Moyen

Que habla Espanol? My "Marc Anthony", True Professional Root Touch-Up kit, does. Just Tournez (twist), Agitez shake), and Appliquez (apply)...If only it was that simple. The instructions drove me loca.

Root Touch-Up, is positioning itself as the first, permanent root touch up kit, in a single application unit. NOT TRUE. My sister Loren, turned me on to Revlon's Root Perfect, a few months back. It was perfect too, and now it has vanished. At $3.99 a box, it was also a bahgin. When I started having a hard time finding it, I began hoarding it, ("Madam, there is a 10 per customer limit", alright, the clerk didn't say it, but she thought it). Marc Anthony's version weighs in at a hefty $10.99, nearly 3 times the price. For this much of a gouge, it better banish all signs of grey until after Labor Day.

The RT-U assembly instructions require holding the (short) bottle on a counter, with one hand, while removing the cap clockwise, continuing to hold with one hand, adding the developer, counter clock wise. Finish by twisting on the upper applicator, at a 90 degree angle...and this was the English version. If I wasn't trying to cover my roots, I would have been pulling them out...

In all fairness, I am aware that the hemisphere of my brain, that processes maps, blueprints and instructions, is not all that snappy. I found out the depth of my limitations in the third grade. Periodically, we were administered I.Q. tests...I would be cruising along, until I hit the wall at the word problem section; "Tommy has two dimes and a nickel, Liz has and quarter and four pennies. What time will the Super Chief be arriving at the Cleveland station"? Huh???? No matter how many times I re read those suckers, they never made sense. My solution, with my number 2 pencil, was to craft hidden pictures on the answer sheet, X's, Christmas tree's, etc... My matriculation to Elementary School came as a welcome surprise...No doubt, some blind spot in the system.

So, how did my hair come out? Was I happy with the results??? Not particularly. Though I only left the product on for 10 minutes, my hair came out dense and a shade darker than "Brun Moyen". It also covered more of my highlights, than I would like to sacrifice. Marc Anthony, adios.

What's left for touch up alternatives? For now, I am back to Clairol's Root Kit, Medium Brown...but I promise you, if the price creeps up to $10.99, I am shopping in the men's aisle for "Just for Men, Beards and Moustaches". The instructions are idiot proof. After all... they were written "Just for Men".

xox,
Dd

Meet the Mets

My son is a very cool customer. His calm demeanor, concrete logic and lack of vanity have nothing to do with my gene pool, (though his love of sleeping late, certainly does). He is an athlete, and life revolves around a ball. He observes my hairmakeupclothes obsession with a bemused detachment, but for the life of him, can't fathom why I need to reapply lipstick, to sit on a set of bleachers.

Nothing I have ever accomplished, has ever made a dent on his view of me as anything but a sandwich making chauffeur...until the other day. Tonight, Richards is hosting a fundraiser with the N.Y. Mets, to raise money for the various foundations, their star athlete's support. And I will be there!!! "Really"??? "Yup", I replied coolly. A small smile, a begrudging look of respect...finally, I have arrived, his measure of me, rising a notch.

The whole issue of his being a Met fan has always amused me. His father is a die hard Yankee fan. Most kids simply follow along with their Dad's sport team allegiance. (Yankee fans, tend to be from Westchester, NYC, Brooklyn and the Bronx, Met fans, from Long Island and Queens). His insistence at age 6, to declare undying loyalty to his father's nemesis, was to me adorably independent and to his father, maddening. My bemusement, will no doubt, come back to haunt me, when the kid decides to wed a female Canadian Mountie.

So, I will be attending with a half a dozen Rawling balls to be signed on the "sweet spot". "Do you know where the sweet spot is Mom? "Of course I know where the sweet spot is" I replied indignantly. (Alright, someone will point it out). He is mildly annoyed that I don't know one Carlos from the other and wouldn't have a clue if I was chatting with Johan Santana or David Wright. Jeez, ya think these guys would be in uniform..."Well, polish me up on some stats, so I can talk intelligently with them". My son is visibly paling and wincing at the thought. "Mom, don't even bother talking, just get the balls signed please". Thanks, for the vote of confidence. Anyway, once I pull the crib notes out of my cleavage, the Mets and me will be speaking the universal language...

Here's to a great event and successful fundraiser.

xox,
Dd

Barbi Visits the Barber

Last night was fabulous! One of my favorite clients hosted the Family Centers of Greenwich benefit at their waterside home. The theme was "Fiesta Cuba" and we were truly transported to Havana circa 1940. Frank and Ava would have felt right at home. Best of all, over $800,000 was raised by this hard working committee, for a truly special place. We were honored to be at our host's table and enjoyed every minute.

Getting dressed for events is never a problem, I love it and look forward to it. The challenge is, since I haven't left the house without my hair and make up done since I was in a white lace Maidenform training bra, I don't feel particularly special. Basically, I look the same sniffing a honeydew at Stop 'n Shop as I do at a Black Tie event.

There are only three ways I can notch it up; cleavage, false eyelashes and a good blow out (see Dd photo at right). Check, check for the first two, but the truth is, I am never happy with my hair after someone else blows it dry. I am not disputing that it looks shinier and more finished, if you will, but I end up looking either like Florence Henderson or Jenny McCarthy, too poofed or too straight. Hairdressers love my hair, because it is thick and wavy, they fall into a rapture, but barely notice that their is a face attached to that hank of hair. They are delighted with their handiwork and I pretend to be too, tipping nicely (I think I do, do we ever really know???? Oy!!! The pressure...In my opinion, gratuities should be built in or eliminated). In the meanwhile, I can't wait to get home to tackle it on my own. (I have also gone the updo route twice, with no success either... Bobbie Pins, flying like bullets, out my car window, as I screeched on two wheels out of the parking lot).

Which brings me to tonight's event. We are having a heat wave, so why bother with a blow out? I did my hair this morning and realized that I crossed that threshold when it is too long and has that dated, "Farah" look. I had a zillion errands to do and getting into see my regular hairdresser on a Saturday, short notice was not even worth a phone call. Here's where it gets crazy and I do think the heat had something to do with it...I decided to pop in on Rinaldo...Who is Rinaldo? Rinaldo is my son's barber. In 10 years, the kid has never had a bad haircut. How much could he botch it? "Follow the line and take and inch and half off, please". "While your at it, do you think you can smooth the ends and give me a little height at the crown"? "Sure I can"...and he did.

So how does it look??? Well, I don't exactly know yet. A little short, I am pretty sure. At least I didn't bolt straight to the bathroom. I will let you know...gotta get ready and put those lashes on, fluff the boobs and get dressed. Who knows? Maybe I will look special.

xox,
Dd

All About Yves

Well, I was shocked and saddened to read about Yves St. Laurent's passing this week at age 71...particularly since I thought he already did that. I think I must have confused it with his retirement in 2002. I am la moron.

The extraordinary Yves, took over the House of Dior in 1957, (after Dior's death), at the tender age of 21. For the next 40 plus years, he had a remarkable career, with his partner Pierre Berge. His ideas were true firsts, lovingly remembered by many designers in their collections; Yves made the pea coat and blazer a wardrobe standard, introduced pantsuits and his famous "Le Smoking", women dressed for evening in Tuxedo's. He made safari looks seem tame enough for lunch with the girls and was a master colorist, mixing saffron, purple and teal in exotic satin gowns and beaded confections. Yves globe trotted, and created fantasy clothes inspired by the Russian Ballet and African tribal wear. He translated his love of stark cubism, into chic sheaths worn by his muses, Betty Catroux and Loulou de la Falaise. Yves was the first designer to use a black runway model, the marvelous Pat Cleveland graced the catwalk for many collections, breaking trendsetting new ground. Yves and Pierre Berge changed the direction of french couture forever, by opening their Rive Gauche boutique in Paris in the seventies. This was gorgeous, luxe fashion, made slightly more affordable, because it was "ready-to-wear", versus fit to an individual client. Though fragile, physically and emotionally, Yves St. Laurent was a genius, and his contribution to fashion and business is a memorable legacy.

My first recollections of YSL were though my Auntie Dee. Dee Dee is my Mom's glamorous sister, who wore Pucci, YSL, false eyelashes and Estee Lauder's Youth Dew. She was and still is hilarious, silly, and drop dead chic. She is our version of Auntie Mame and we adore her.

When we were kids, she spoiled us rotten, (in fact, thankfully, she still does). She and my uncle often used to take long cruises. Back in the day, people dressed on ships, and I loved to watch her pack the formal ensembles that she would be wearing to dinner. (Oppose this tragically, to today's shipmate dining companions. All gussied up, might include Gold Toe, over the calf, black ribbed socks, worn with open toed Birkenstock's, walking shorts and a short sleeved "dress shirt". The world is going to hell in a hand basket, whatever the hell this means).

Dee Dee is petite. I wasn't, which for once, was an advantage in my youth. Tall and skinny, somehow her clothes fit me. I remember borrowing a silk patchwork YSL peasant skirt, with a wide belt and off the shoulder blouse, to a black tie Bar Mitzvah at the Pierre. The fact that I was dressed more elegantly than half the women in the room was not lost on me...or them. I was 13 and felt like a million bucks.

Thus began my love affair with Yves. I remember studying his work in Vogue and the Fashion of the Time's magazine, unable to take my eyes off of his beautiful, colorful creations. They mesmerized me...(Too bad I didn't study my algebra as intently).

Recently, I blogged about visiting the Met's Costume Exhibit, Blog.Mode:Addressing Fashion, (April 2nd, "Ambien, Don't Leave Home Without It"). I wrote that of all the fashions exhibited, my hands down favorite, was the daffodil yellow, full length silk evening coat, with a train, designed by Yves and owned by the divine Nan Kempner...It bears asking again, (gosh, I am quoting me)!!! "Who else besides Yves and Nan, could make an exit more breathtaking than an entrance"?

And now I will answer...Absolutely, no one. Yves and Dee Dee, je t'adore.

xox,
Dd

Tried and True

Sometimes you just have to slow down and reflect on the important things in life...good health, first and foremost, a good laugh and a great bronzer...

I am so busy pursuing new products, that things that have served me perfectly well, get shoved down the rabbit hole. I recently revisited four favorites and I am going to do my best to fight my fickle gene and stick with them, (for awhile, anyway). They are as follows:

1) Cover Girl's Lash Exact, (in the purple tube). This product came out nearly two years ago and was heralded because its new, tidy little wand, deposits product neatly and evenly on the lashes. Do not confuse this with their second entrant, Lash Blast, (in the orange tube), with a beefy wand like a turkey drumstick. Lash Exact was and still is a terrific mascara. I am glad we reunited.

2) Clinique's Quickliner for Lips. This liner, stays put, applies smoothly, self sharpens to a nice point and is available in a wide range of natural tones. Unfortunately, I believe, my beloved "pink truffle", was part of a limited promotion and will be out of production. (Anyone want to start petitioning Congress to outlaw this ugly practice)? A gorgeous, nudey-brown-pink that is harder to find than white jeans in the summer. (I am all ears for suggestions)...

3) Bobbi Brown Eye Liner Gel, in Ink. It defines beautifully, doesn't smear, removes handily and you will need new undies before you need to buy more.. This may not be for you if you don't have the steady hands of a neurosurgeon and don't think for a moment, that any 'ol brush in your repertoire will do. Anything short of the proper implement, (Bobbi's $20 fine eyeliner brush), will yield Uncle Fester like results...otherwise, it's perfect.

4) An oldie but a goodie, frequently sited as an editor and user favorite, Guerlain's Terracotta Moisturizing Bronzing Powder. I am an 02 girl, but there are 4 other options, so finding your best match is definitely possible. Nothing comes close to the even, silkiness and rich color this bronzer imparts. I have a zillion limitations (cooking, map reading, remembering Birthday's), but, "Fake Bake", I know and this stuff is da bomb.

Tell me your fave's, but not right away...I might be too tempted to run out and buy them...

xox,
Dd

Brown Eyed Girls

When I was growing up, models, not celebrities, graced the covers of monthly fashion magazines. The lovelies staring back off those pages, set the standard for American beauty; Cheryl Tiegs, Christie Brinkley, Lauren Hutton, Kim Alexis, Lisa Taylor, Shelley Hack, all looked like blond haired, blue eyed, California Girls. I hated them. Month after month, I secretly yearned for a new "it" girl to emerge, but in my image, brunette and brown eyed. Anyone to make me feel less ordinary...a role model, whose eyeliner I could copy...

Fortunately, my sister Loren did not inherit, any of the random sets of blue eyes that exists on both sides of the family. (Sororicide, would certainly have blemished my adolescence). We spent so much time perfecting our eye makeup routines, that our mother nick named and referred to us as the "Westmore's", Bud and Perc. After a time, she finally revealed that the Westmore's, were two well known Hollywood make up artists, renown for their skills. We accepted our new names, with a certain pride.

In those days, I was blessed to have a friend with no curfew and an unlimited house charge at Gilliar's Drug Store, (yes Mother, now you know why I slept out every weekend for 6 years). Gilliar's was a wonderful, old style apothecary, dark burnished woods, wreaking of linseed oil and highly polished brass and glass. In my book, Gilliar's was a slice of heaven. There we wiled away countless hours, trying products from Ultima II, Alexandra de Markoff, Germain Monteil, Borghese, Estee Lauder and Elizabeth Arden. Despite the fact that we were grubby fingered teens, we were treated more like the Mom's, cause we were grubby fingered teens, but we purchased plenty. If Gilliar's was Miss Porter's, I was it's valedictorian.

Along came the 80's and advent of the "Super Models", Christie, Linda, Naomi, (black and still blue eyed) and alas Cindy...Finally, a Brown Eyed Girl!!! So now I know why I ordered her "Meaningful Beauty" skin care kit...sheer loyalty. My kit arrived on Saturday. The 30 day supply. looks like something I would pack for a long weekend...no way could this possibly last a month (you say, "dab" and I say, "douse"). Some of the products smell like day old shitaki oatmeal, but so far, my skin is looking fine and if it wasn't, I might not tell you...Us Brown Eyed Girls, need to stick together...

xox,
Dd

Heads Up on the Heads Up

Of course I had to see S.A.T.C. last night. I never completely trust the soundbite reviews, that accompany most TV and print ads for movies... Bold type, overly hyped, glowing praise authored by someone reporting for the Picayune Gazette in Hopewell Junction, Iowa, in type so small you need a monocle to decipher. I started reading the NY Time's review in the morning. I sensed both a kill joy and and spoil plot review, so I abandoned it mid sentence.

I won't spoil it for you, but I will tell you it was funny, poignant, and not entirely predictable. The stars, girls and clothes were stellar. I am glad they did this in real time, not pretending that the gap of time between the series end and the film didn't exist. The girls are grown up women and they mostly wear it well. Cynthia Nixon, looks never better, and has the most sophisticated of the wardrobes. Carrie's outfits facilitate as usual, between dressed up fab and dressed up mad. Samantha still looks like she has a boner for Thierry Mugler, circa 1986, with her bright hued, steeply shoulder padded suits. Charlotte is all post, post Deb Park Avenue primness, in rotating whistle clean sheath dresses. I loved it all.

The only misstep, is in Marketing 101. SJP chose to make this an R rated film, with some needless, graphic sex. We all know that the preteen set was watching it behind closed doors when it was on HBO. The diluted repeats live on, on network television, for viewing by girls still in their single digits. This movie will be a box office bonanza, but if they notched it down to a PG 13, CW 11 Gossip Girl's version (some of which seem pretty, pretty racy to me), they could have had it all...the men, the Manolo's the martinis and even more money.

Girl Mom's, take heed.

xox,
Dd

"I'll Have What She's Having"....Maybe

Well, of course I got the skinny on S.A.T.C from Linda...the movie is fab and funny, clothes, TO DIE FOR, and all the girls look really, really good. The MOMA party afterwards was a straight man's paradise...women dressed to slither in a shoe fest that did Monsieur's Blahnik and Laboutin proud. I'm over it...kind of.

Moving on to skin care...By now y'all know how much I relish a good infomercial. Same friend Linda and I have been in lockstep over the years with our "must haves". We have dabbled in Sicily, slathered in Perricone, worshipped at the Prevage altar, worshipped at the faux Prevage altar (Do It Yourself compounds from "Skin-Care Essentials' on Ebay), and both still have some favorites left over from our Arbonne Nutrimin C days (Linda loves the eye creme, I am still tethered to the day creme).

Saturday mornings are my favorite time to troll for infomercials (kids today don't know how lucky they are to have this as an option...anyone else remember "Modern Farmer")? A couple of weeks ago, I came close to pulling the trigger on Victoria Principal's "Reclaim". Do I care that she looks like she is being photographed through a tube sock??? The woman's skin looks terrific! Two days later, Linda is thumbing through her kit at work... She likes it, lots, and is having a love fest with the neck creme. I am almost there...but now I can wait for her to get through her 30 Day, (Bottom of the jar guaranteed) trial period for a full report.

This past Saturday, I happened upon Cindy Crawford's, "Resurgence", created in conjunction with famed Parisian Dermatologist Dr. Jean-Louis Serbagh (Madonna's skin Daddy). OHHHHH!!!!... This has potential...my ears are perked and I haven't even had coffee yet. Cindy is a pretty girl, but Dr. JLS involvement is what sold me. I have been reading about his handiwork for years. So, I ordered. And I called, "within the next 18 minutes" and got a bonus and an upgrade to Priority Shipping. (Yah, like this ever expires)...I will be sitting on my front steps waiting for the UPS man with a little gift.

But, uggghhhh!!!! This morning!!! Things were running late in my household, so I woke up to chef breakfast. Hopped back in bed with a cup of coffee and there was Joan Lunden, hawking Dr. Howard Murad's, "Resurgence". Did I jump too fast? Should I be taking my cues from the post menopausal set, or trying to rewind???

Soooooooooo many choices... I got to thinking, "wouldn't "Rewind" be a perfect name for a skin care line"? Somebody must have had the same epiphany... So, I Google it and there it is...Anyone ever hear of Dr. Michelle Copeland? My head is spinning...

xox,
Dd

Grumpy in Greenwich

My friend Linda, who I have known for 25 years, whose career as a Personal Shopper I jump started, dealt me a crushing blow the other day...Linda's husband and I worked our first retail jobs together. He is now a highly placed executive in Fashion Event Marketing. As a result, Linda has entree to some fabulous events, and she is always generous in sharing unique experiences with her friends. Linda broke it to me straight up, mano y mano...she was only able to get two tickets to the "Sex and the City" premiere and I was out . "Really"???, I whined. "Really", she confirmed.

Apparently, tickets are so tight to the premiere at Radio City, that well known extras in the film were getting shut out. (But I'm still not going)??? Linda did the honorable thing, and is taking our other pal, who had the foresight to beat me to it and asked first. All right, I get it, but I am cranky about it, let me assure you.

I pulled myself together enough to give the nod of approval to the fab outfit she is wearing...of course she is dressing up, who wouldn't? Her outfit has got all the star elements: Shoes; ankle strapped Gucci's a la Carrie, top and flutter skirt; Samantha's saucy, sexiness, color; pure Miranda cobalt blue, pedigree; Charlotte in a wisp of WASP via Mr. Lauren. Me? Grasshopper green, with envy.

So girls, have a fabulous time, suck down a few Cosmo's in the limo for me. Take notes if necessary, pictures, whenever possible. I want all the dirt.

And Lin, just for the record...I have dibs on tickets for S.A.T.C. II.

xox,
Dd