Auntie Fashion

I received the most illuminating comment today from Tawdry Hepburn, whom I blogged about in my last post.  Since my recollection of my own history is spotty at best since the spirit of Zob vacated my personage, I’ve chosen to accept Miss Hepburn’s account of Zob’s Portland connection.  Rather than posting this comment on the comments page, I’ve decided it’s worth of it’s own blog entry.

Here’s what she wrote:

A little known fact: Zob appeared, much like the Virgin Mary, in a park in Portland in roughly 1951. Zob came to intercede on behalf of the fashion atrocities being committed for a century in this backwater burg, and warn against the future.
Zob showed the few chosen that only Zob can make Birkenstocks with socks fierce, that showering and shaving will NOT take your soul, and that patchouli should be used in minute amounts of a perfume, not as a single note to bathe in. Unfortunately, Zob’s audience was a small band of gay-affiliated women and their hairdressers, so Zob’s message did take a very long time to come to fruition. My Grandmother was one of these lucky souls – she claims I was born with the Mark of Zob, as I could walk in heels and pick out Chanel while still a toddler, even while being raised in the most granola, anti-fashion household. Praise be Zob!

Well if that doesn’t explain it all, I don’t know what does.  Now if I only had a photo of the Mark of Zob.  I bet it’s like a scarlet pimpernel, only fierce!

Tawdry, you are truly a friend of Zob.

Ceri Marsh

Ceri Marsh is the editor in chief of FASHION magazine.  I guess you could say that she’s Canada’s answer to Anna Wintour, only no one has written a scathing roman à clef about her . . . yet!

Ceri graciously submitted to an interview with Auntie Fashion earlier today.  In between margaritas and martinis (we were drinking our way through the alphabet, as is the custom when we go out) I asked Ceri the tough questions that no other reporter has been bold enough to ask.

Auntie Fashion: How is Zob currently influencing the editorial direction of FASHION magazine?

Ceri Marsh: As you can imagine, the team at FASHION considers Zob in everything they do. I can’t tell you how many editorial discussions end with, “Yeah, it’s fabulous, but would Zob like it?” In fact, some of the younger editors congratulate each other on a job well done by exclaiming, “That is so Zob!”

Auntie Fashion: Since I was the last mortal vessel that Zob chose to inhabit, would you consider putting me on the cover of an upcoming issue?

Ceri Marsh: Zob on a cover? Done. My only concern is that FASHION couldn’t afford the kind of international crew a celeb like Zob typically demands. I’ve heard that she’ll only shoot with Craig McDean and demands Pat McGrath and Sam McNight as her makeup and hair team. Come on, we’re the best-read magazine in Canada but we are a Canadian title with modest Canadian budgets…. Mind you, the news stand sales we could expect with a Zob cover would probably compensate for the Zob price tag.

Auntie Fashion: If you had to choose between a weekend in Paris with Jean Paul Gaultier, or a bus trip to Moose Jaw Fashion Week 2012, which would you choose?

Ceri Marsh: A what trip? I only take taxis and I’m afraid of the woods so it would have to be Paris for me. Bounjour, Jean Paul!

Henrietta Southam (upper center)

When Fashion File Host Hunt revealed its cast, I saw Henrietta Southam’s name on the list and immediately thought “What a ridiculous example of stunt casting!”  Auntie Fashion has been around long enough to know how much weight the Southam name carries in Canada.  I presumed that Ms. Southam was put on the show simply because her family name gave her credence as a socialite: They figured that she was the kind of woman who could walk backstage at a fashion show and fit in with the beautiful people.  At first glance, I assumed the same thing, too.

Then the show premiered.  Henrietta entered the studio in an adorable fedora and I said to myself “Ooh!  I love a broad who can wear a hat!”  On the second episode, she crushed the competition during a quiz of past and present fashion knowledge, spelling “fedora” correctly along the way (unlike a certain someone).  Suddenly she was legitimate competitor.  I was rooting for her to win.

Unfortunately, the producers weren’t going to let that happen.  During a subsequent challenge, Southam made a crucial error.  She thought that Fashion File was looking for a reporter when they were really just looking for someone to schmooze with the crowd.  A source close to the show told me that she offended the designers of Bustle and Bustle when she didn’t blow smoke up their asses as required.

Southam threw in the towel after that incident.  She knew that the producers weren’t going to let her win, so she gave up on FFHH.  Who could blame her?

In retrospect, it appears that she left a sinking ship.  A little voice inside her head must have been urging her to go.  I’m sure that it was the voice of Zob.  Zob works in mysterious ways, speaking to the truly gorgeous when they are in need.  And when I look at Henrietta Southam, I know that she has been blessed by Zob.  You don’t get to be that fabulous without a little divine intervention.

Simon Doonan

I had the pleasure of interviewing Simon Doonan about his book “Eccentric Glamour: Creating an Insanely More Fabulous You.”  Rather than giving that book the glowing review it so richly deserves here on my blog, I’ve decided to sell my review to a newspaper syndicate.  Auntie Fashion needs a new pair of shoes, and she’s been shopping at Bottega Veneta again.

Nevertheless, I felt terrible leaving my faithful readers out of the loop, so I urged Simon to answer a few questions for my blog, as well.  He graciously consented to my demands, but only after I promised to bear his children.  Men — they’re all the same!

Auntie Fashion: How and when did you first meet Prunella Crudsworth, aka Zob?

Simon Doonan: I first met her right after she was discovered.  She was smoldering with arrogance and self confidence.  “You look great!” I said, wanting her to like me.  “What makes you think I give a flying f**k what you think, you horrible gnome!”  Being insulted by Zob was like being air-kissed by Naomi or Linda. I was high on it for weeks.

Auntie Fashion: Did you immediately know that she was possessed by the spirit of Zob: The essence of fashion itself?

Simon Doonan: Everything about her screamed couture — even when she was huffing glue.

Auntie Fashion: How has knowing Zob changed your life?

Simon Doonan: Knowing Zob has taught me that some people are just more fabulous than others.  Zob is more fabulous than everyone.  Next to her I felt like a creepy weasel turd.

Auntie Fashion: In your book “Eccentric Glamour” you describe three types of eccentrics: The Gypsy, The Socialite and the Existentialist.  Did it blow your mind to see all three types embodied in one fabulous woman at the same time?

Simon Doonan: Totally!  Zob is not a supermodel, she is a giga-model.

Auntie Fashion: With the Zobpocalypse looming, do you have any advice for the style-challenged so that they don’t end up spending the rest of eternity getting spray-on tans, fake boobs and cheap, acrylic hair extensions?

Simon Doonan: Zob may be an egomaniac, and a bitch, but she would never doing anything fake.  Keep it real girls!  Zob it!

I wasn’t really sure what to make of this book when I first discovered it.  While I was inhabited by the spirit of Zob, I didn’t need to look to the stars for the answers to life’s mysteries.  But once her spirit deserted my body, I became profoundly aware of my own mortality and I needed some spiritual guidance.  So I did what any woman would do: I turned to the astrology column of Cosmopolitan.

I didn’t find the answers there, but I found a pleasant diversion.  Not long after that, I discovered the complete works of Jackie Stallone and began studying the zodiac enthusiastically.  However, it wasn’t until I met the author of Cosmically Chic that I knew the role astrology would play in the Zobpocalypse.

I was sure that I needed to meet Greg Polkosnik when I first realized that he managed to have a book about contemporary fashion published without mentioning Marc Jacobs once.  It was as if he had some special power against the Evil AntiZob.

I’ll admit that I was surprised by his appearance.  Greg is a strapping, athletic man (unlike your typical fashionista who eschews the gym, preferring the transformative powers of cosmetic surgery, prescription drugs and spray-on tans to an active lifestyle and healthy living).

Aside from his wholesome good-looks, Greg is also uncannily aware of the evil that pervades the fashion world.  I soon had him casting charts for me as I grew more and more eager to understand who was working for Zob, and who was working against Zob.  The truth, it seems, is written in the stars.

Nowadays, the two of us are inseparable.  He has become my friend and my spiritual advisor.  You can expect to read more about him in future posts.  As an oracle who can decipher the language of the immortal, he will stand valiantly by my side as I await the return of Zob.

While in her mortal form, Zob had several close friends and confidantes.  I’d like to use this section of my blog to introduce them to you.

I have to admit that I wasn’t terribly fond of Jeanne Beker or Fashion Television when the show premiered in the 80s.  Almost a quarter of century later, I’ve started to see what Zob saw in Jeanne.

I guess it took me a while to look beyond her size-thirteen feet and to appreciate the crusty old bag for who she is.  I had been such a huge fan of Tim Blanks and Fashion File, and I really didn’t give Jeanne a chance.

When Fashion File lost Tim Blanks to style.com, I was forced to watch Fashion Television again because I couldn’t bring myself to watch Adrian Mainella stare vapidly into the camera while pretending to have a point of view.  It was during that time that I realized how great Jeanne Beker had become at her job.  I said to myself “Who cares about those rumors that she slept her way to the top?  I love this broad!”

Fashion Television also has become a lot better over the years.  Segues into the world of art and architecture no longer take up valuable screen time that can be better utilized by interviewing a sixteen-year-old Estonian model about the rigors of her career.  Interviews with the international press seem to be more candid and more likely to offend.  And Jeanne herself appears to be an essential, beloved part of the business.

This brings me to my point: With age comes wisdom.  To me, Jeanne Beker seemed to be a pretender to the throne when Fashion Television began.  Twenty-three years later she wears the crown like she was born to be the queen.  Zob saw it in her all along.  I’ll admit it — now I see it, too.