Archive | February 2007

The End of Oscar Night, and Off To Party!

(Note – I am transcribing this from Miss DeCarlo’s notes. It’s late and I want to go home, but if this isn’t fresh and crisp and published tomorrow, I will be put through the tortures of the damned. The Devil doesn’t wear Prada, she wears wisps of chiffon. You didn’t hear it from me.)

Oh, dear, that naughty Chris Noth! My gown is all mussed, my glorious blonde hair flattened, but it was worth it! I snap my fingers at George Clooney! He doesn’t know what he’s missing.

Speaking of missing, we seem to have missed quite a few categories, since they’re just finishing up the Dead People segment. Oh, well, I don’t think anyone important died or I would have heard of it. Chris, dahling, would you be a dear boy and get me another mojito? Thank you!

Hmmmm..Helen Mirren won Best Actress. That scrumptious Christian Lacroix dress…the woman is agelessly hot. Lovely breasts. Oh, dear, I sound like Oprah Winfrey.

Look at that ridiculous getup she wore to the Oscars. Not quite in the Sally Kirkland league, but heading in that general direction.

Oh, my, Forrest Whittaker won Best Actor. Everybody knew he would, but poor Peter O’ Toole. He was so wonderful in “Venus”, if rather hard to look at in close-up. And what is with Mr. Whittaker’s eye? For all of his career I have been wondering when he is going to have that strange eyelid of his fixed. But perhaps it’s like that huge mole on that Creole singer’s forehead…it has mystical powers or some such.

Darling Marty Scorsese! He is such a divine man, so small and yet so wonderfully talented. I grip Chris’s hand hard and squeeze, for I am feeling quite happy and a bit tipsy. I should have eaten something besides one piece of rumaki, but this dress is very tight and Oscar (the designer, not the statue) didn’t have time to let it out.

And now “The Departed” won. My God, is that actually Diane Keaton? In that lovely black ensemble? Someone must have mugged her backstage and forcibly changed her clothes, she never looks decent on awards shows. My, what a tiny waist! It almost makes up for having to look at Jack Nicholson and his huge cueball head.

The only nominee I saw was “Little Miss Sunshine,” which I adored, although between you and moi, Eddie Murphy should have gotten Best Supporting Actor. The Norbit curse and all that, you know.

Chris is beckoning that it is time to move on to the next shindig…Good night, dahlings!

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Oscar Night Marches On!

(Note – this is being transcribed by me, Miss DeCarlo’s personal assistant…she threw her Blackberry into the office early this afternoon when she got in, and went straight to bed. If I knock on the door I could get severely hurt. I need a new job…)

DAHLINGS

Next stop, the Entertainment Weekly magazine party at Elaine’s! Now THIS is a soiree! I fit right in. My favorite film critic, Lisa Schwarzbaum, is sitting in the last remnant of lap Harvey Weinstein still has. Can you say ‘conflict of interest’?”

Half the casts of all of the various permutations of “Law and Order” are here…of course, I forgot that they film in our dear city. And there is Liev Schrieber, whose Hamlet I am still trying to forget…wasn’t he supposed to be at the New York magazine party?

Dear God, I look up at the television monitor to see Randy Newman and James Taylor. Sweet Geezer James always sounds exactly the same, whether he’s singing ‘Fire and Rain’ or Randy’s latest piece of Oscar dreck…time for another cocktail, pronto.

There’s Chris Noth…be still, my heart (and other parts of my anatomy). He’s sitting with one of the hundreds of cast members of “Law and Order.”

But our eyes lock, and we move across the crowded room toward each other. It is almost as good as meeting George Clooney. A girl can’t have everything, but this is pretty darn close. We watch the monitor as Emily Blunt and Anne Hathaway present Best Costume Design. I think it’s rather silly to have extras in the clothes rather than mannequins, and, looking at the corgi onstage, reflect on just how badly Bucky would behave under the circumstances. (Peeing on the Queen would be so low class.)

“Marie Antoinette”?? Is the Academy mad? They will always go for the foo-foo and ruffles over the more sophisticated and realistic designs. My personal choice was ‘Dreamgirls,’ it brought back so many childhood memories. Not that anyone I knew dressed like that, but I did see them from the limousine window.

I am sorry, but I like Anne Hathaway’s dress. I realize that I am in a distinct minority.

Chris Noth smells wonderful…it’s quite distracting… (leave that part out, you idiot!)

Every time Ellen Degeneres comes on, she’s got one another ugly outfit (she needs Melissa Etheridge’s stylist, if not Melissa’s make-up person, who made her look like a plastic punk rocker), and somehow seems to leave a hole in the screen. Yes, she’s being all shucks-folks-I’m-just-happy-to-be-here. But that is how Rosie O’Donnell used to behave at the Tony Awards, and look how that turned out!

Thank goodness for Jerry Seinfeld…he’s funnier in eight minutes than poor Ellen has been all evening. Part of it is that he could not care less. He doesn’t need the money or the exposure–wait, I think we have our perfect next Oscar host! Just please, please don’t bring back Whoopi Goldberg, or I might have to get a restraining order against the Academy.

Oh, it’s time for the “Dreamgirls” song montage! And doesn’t Jennifer Hudson look PERFECTLY MAGNIFICENT in that sparkling red dress? You go, girlfriend, as the young people say! Beyoncehas abandoned that mint green monstrosity for some sort of flowing thing, but unfortunately she still has the stage presence of an apple. She can howl like she was on “American Idol” as much as she wants to, but it doesn’t make her any less of a Mocha Diva Barbie. Ah, and there’s that third girl they made look so goofy in the movie…she obviously laid down the law to the costumer, because she is working some serious bling in that dress. But it’s Jennifer all the way. She and Queen Latifah…women with actual BREASTS on the Oscars…oh, and of course Helen Mirren.

Excuse me…Chris wants to have a word in my shell-pink ear…

Oscar Night, continued…

(Note: this is being transcribed by me, Miss DeCarlo’s personal assistant, from the notes she’s sending me, so please forgive any discontinuity. Please, or she’ll be so mad, and I need this job.)

Dahlings –

I have arrived at the Spotted Pig for the New York magazine party, and there is not much doing. There’s Mark Green in the corner, chatting up the ever-hilarious Andy Borowitz. This is a very dressed-down crowd. Hmmph. Off to find the television monitor and a cocktail…I can make my own fun.

Oh, my darling friend Andre Leon Talley is on! But WHAT is that thing he has got Jennifer Hudson wearing? That–that reptilian jacket thing! The dress is a lovely draped Oscar de la Renta brown dress on a lovely brown woman, but off with that jacket! Andre, dahling, what were you THINKING? We have to have a serious chat before you come to “Haute Cou-Poor” to give your lecture on “How Much Is Too Much: The Aesthetics of Bling.”

Finally, the show is beginning…I was in fear that Mark Green would want to talk to me about the environment.

What is that Ellen DeGeneres is wearing? My guess she still wishes Johnny Carson were hosting the show, because she is wearing one of his old outfits, right down to the white shoes.

Oh, dear, she is dull. Get off, dear.

What was that musical interlude about? A gospel choir marches offstage and nothing happens? Conan, where are you when we need you?

Oh good Lord, there’s Nicole in that hideous red Balenciaga thing, even worse from a distance. She simply cannot move her face! This is beyond Botox, dahlings, a surgeon must have cut a nerve. I need another cocktail. Perhaps a mojito this time.

JACK NICHOLSONthe man has shaved his head! It looks like a huge pale basketball! It’s as big as Ted Kennedy’s, without the hair! I can’t help but think of Daddy Warbucks. Jack, Jack, has your famous cool finally deserted you?

PILOBULOUS? Weren’t they something you inflicted on your children back in the 1960s in the name of arts and education? Wonderful. Shadow puppets. Something tells me Ellen thought of them. Happy childhood memories and all that. Cheery people annoy me. At least the rest of the crowd in the restaurant is hooting derisively as well.

I need to be with other fabulous people. Back to the limousine…

It’s Oscar Night, Dear God In Heaven…

(Note…this is being transcribed by me, Elisa’s assistant, from notes she is messaging over, so please forgive any discontinuity. She is going to a variety of parties in Manhattan tonight, but I have to stay here and work…I hate my life…)

DAHLINGS –

I am on my way to the first of MANY fabulous parties in Manhattan, and my limo has a computer in the back, so I have it turned to the TV Guide channel for the moment…

My GOD, what has happened to Joan Rivers? She looks like the Bride of Wildenstein! Please, somebody chloroform the woman! Didn’t she once have a face? And that fur shrug…what sort of rasberry polyester animal was killed for that? Must change channel…must…

Ah, Ryan Seacrest, the hardest working drone in show business. There’s Cameron Diaz, in a dress made entirely of paper dinner napkins. From the neck up, she looks like Burt Lancaster playing an Native American in an old Western…those light eyes and that strange tan and that hair…poor dear can never get it right…

ACCCCK!!! PATRICIA FIELD!!!! NOOOOOO!

This CANNOT be the woman who designed those glorious costumes for “The Devil Wears Prada”! Not this ancient Rita Hayworth wanna-be with dyed purple red hair, too-tight strapless red spangled dress, and those baggy old arms and neck! I am all for aging gracefully, but two words…matching wrap! Also, do not stand next to two stunning young actresses when being interviewed. She should have made sure to stand next to Forrest Whittaker. I love Emily Blunt’s sparkling blue strapless gown. Young women today have no idea how to wear strapless gowns, or for that matter, how they should be fitted. The usual trend is for the dress to cut straight across the top, too tightly, so that what little flesh they have above the breasts bulges out when they walk. What would Rita have said?

No one notices Sascha Baron Cohen’s fiancee, but let me inform you that she is wearing a green satin dress that way a strapless dress is MEANT to be worn! Heart-shaped front, lots of decolletage, and firm upper support. Now I know why I loved “Borat.”

Oh my GOD…Nicole, what are you THINKING? I’ve always thought redheads look good in red, but that pale coloring, black mascara, blonde straightened hair, do not work with that hideous dress. She looks like a tube of red lipstick with a goiter!

George Clooney…sigh…need one say more? He makes me want to fly out to Los Angeles this minute and smother him in my properly fitted bosom. I am wearing that spectacular Oscar de la Renta you saw in my earlier blog, my mahogany mink and high-heeled matching fabric pumps, the same as the dress. Because of the unfortunate size of my feet (the only thing about myself I regret) they had to be custom made, but what’s money, if not to be spent?

Penelope Cruz may have a face like a foot, but her Atelier Versace blush pink gown is simply smashing. Now, if only they could transplant her head… I’m firmly in the minority on this one, but I like Kelly Preston’s leopard print gown. As least someone isn’t killing themselves to look piss-elegant, as the saying goes. Pardon my language. Besides, she’s married to that human cream bun John Travolta, so she should get her kicks where she can.

I’m at my first stop…to be continued…

(tape clicks off)

More On Haute Cou-Poor! Plus Today’s Fashion Tip!

DAHLINGS –

I have barely a moment, but I thought I’d dash into the office, where my idiot of an assistant has been making transatlantic phone calls for me (thank GOD for this Internet thing!).

OKAY, YOU LUMP, START TYPING! I’M DICTATING! AND DON’T GIVE ME THAT LOOK, YOU! NOT WITH THAT CHEAP MAYBELLINE EYESHADOW ON!

As if I didn’t know…ahem.

Even though I have been terribly, terribly busy with Mercedez-Benz Fashion Week, the Westminster Dog Show, “Haute Cou-Poor,” my program at FIT, has begun, and we had a simply SPLENDID opening party at the Beatrice Inn! Until you have seen Andre Leon Talley with a champagne bucket upside down on his head, you cannot say you have lived. Again, more later. I did want to let you all know that I haven’t forgotten you, even though I do for long periods for long time. After all, I am a very busy, fabulous woman and one must parcel out one’s mental energy.

An aside: I have received news that that terrible woman who shares my name is opening a show of some kind, called “Pointless Rebellion,” down on the Lower East Side (shudder) in some firetrap. You can go to http://www.myspace.com/pointlessrebelliontheshow if you feel so inclined. The nerve of some people. I have asked her to consider changing her name, but she simply refuses.

Later,
Elisa and Bucky the Wonderdog

Today’s Fashion Tip:
Clip Earrings Make A Comeback
The New York Times wrote in January about the return of button clip earrings, a style last popular in the late 1960s. Lucky’s March issue also mentioned them. This trend is a boon to people like my grandma, who never pierced her ears and who’s been increasingly frustrated with the limited options for the non-pierced.
From “She’s A Betty” (link at right)

Happy Valentine’s Day, Dahlings!! And VBO!

Ah, the world is filled with love today! An absolute overabundance of love, and chocolate, and roses…starting one’s day with some champagne certainly puts one in an amiable mood, I must say. My guest for the night surprised me with breakfast in bed (and surprised the maid, too, I’m afraid–she didn’t realize he had stayed).

In any event, I had a wonderful time at the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. So many people I know there, and dog people are simply not as…well, what’s the word…insane as people in the fashion industry. Few are. They have their strange quirks (I still don’t understand backcombing a shitzu) but all in all, quite soignee.

Before I change for dinner, I simply have to let you know that over on Ebay, the great leveler of the populace, there is a Vintage Blowout Sale–a rather common name for a special event. For one week, vintage sellers (including moi) offer their wares at a mere pittance. So if you have any sense at all, you’ll get yourself over there and snatch up some marvelous vintage bargains. Thank goodness I don’t do this for the money! Here are some of the lovely things I’m offering:

1950s Black Satin Beaded Clutch Bag

1970s Genuine Lynx and Cashmere Hat
IN STORAGE

1960s Zip-Front Polka Dot Dress, XL

1970s Black Sequined Disco Cap

SOLD

Ciao,
Elisa and Bucky the Wonderdog

Back To My Fabulous Life…

Dahlings –

To recover from Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week, I spent yesterday lounging in the tub, and had a deep tissue massage, manicure and pedicure. Bucky also got a manicure, although on black nails it’s hard to find the right color, and he simply hates red. So I chose a dark glowing purple. I refused to answer the constantly ringing phone and without my assistant there, I locked the office. Let them all wait, say I.

The next two days will be spent at the Westminster Kennel Club dog show. Unfortunately Bucky cannot go with me, poor dear. I would carry him in my Gucci custom-made dog carrier. But once he got a sniff of the other dogs, well, let’s just say some purebred show dog muzzle confirmation would be irreparably damaged.

It will be such a pleasure to watch animals who are well-fed, even if they cannot eat chocolate either. Off I go!

Ciao until next time,
Elisa and Bucky the Wonderdog