Archive for March 2010
I suppose I should have included “SPOILER ALERT” in the headline above, but it’s too late — you’ve already seen what Tyra will be wearing to panel on tonight’s episode of “America’s Next Top Model.”
I’m enjoying this jumpsuit-themed season. I’ve been looking back at Tyra’s panel wardrobe over the previous thirteen cycles of ANTM, and I have to say that this cycle is already a close second place to my all-time favorite cycle, when Tyra went through her now-legendary “Disco Pirate” phase.
Anyway, I’ve been going through the photo archives on the CW site, compulsively collecting photos of Tyra, much like the way that my friend Rusty collects Marie Osmond’s dolls. I’m hoping to run a round-robin contest to allow my readers to vote for their all-time favorite panel outfit. Stay tuned for more.
PETA’s Sexiest Vegetarian Next Door contest wraps up in a few minutes, and I didn’t even know it existed! By the time I cast my vote, I’ll be unable to help the lovely Nicole Angela get a boob up on her competition. Had I known about this competition earlier, I would have been campaigning vigorously for the Queens resident. She’s one part Snooki, one part Pamela Anderson and one part personal floation device.
Maybe next year, Nicole Angela. Maybe next year . . .
Shirley Jones (center)
Happy birthday, Shirley Jones. I think I love you, so what am so afraid of?
Everyone who reads this blog knows that I’m into astrology, yet I don’t really spend a lot of time discussing the topic much. But yesterday was such a weird day that I had to share it with you, my adoring fans.
I devoted a few too many bitter pages on this blog to “Fashion File Host Hunt” and the subsequent cancellation of “Fashion File.” I hadn’t heard much about Adrian Mainella since the show tanked, and I was surprised yesterday to read that he’s designing for a furs with Izzy Camilleri for a line called IZMA. I didn’t blame Mainella personally when “Fashion File” bit the big one, and I tried to avoid making personal attacks against the winner of “Host Hunt.” But if there’s one surefire way to get on my bad side it’s this: Become a fur designer. I don’t care how “green” and “sustainable” your line is. Everyone who copies it will be torturing animals. It’s barbaric in any guise. Adrian Mainella, now I don’t like you.
Just a few hours after that, I ran into an old friend who actually produced my TV pilot that I figured would be my ace-in-the-hole at my own “Host Hunt” audition. I figured that if someone like that was willing to take a chance on me, then the “Host Hunt” producers would see something, too. I was wrong. Anyway, my old friend and I reconnected and talked about a new project.
Not long afterward, I got a weird comment on my blog directed to “Host Hunt” finalist Henrietta Southam. It was from a childhood friend of Southam’s mother from Norway who was trying to reconnect with her old friend. I became a fan and a friend of Henrietta during the broadcast of “Host Hunt,” where she lost to Mainella. I emailed her and set the reunion in motion. That wouldn’t have happened if I had never blogged about her.
Within a couple of hours, these three incidents occured. It was all sort of weird, and a little too weird to seem like a coincidence. I feel as if fate is trying to pull me in a different direction than I was headed. Between my wretched experience at “Teen Vogue” and my rejection at the hands of the producers of “Fashion File Host Hunt,” I felt like I needed to turn my back on the world of fashion. This blog brought me back to fashion, and now I’m seeing some events from my past in a clearer light.
Maybe this is where I belong. I might make fun of my own “insider” status here on Auntie Fashion, but the truth is that I’ve always been a fashion outsider. Still, for the last couple of months I’ve felt as if the cosmos were about to hand me a key. Yesterday’s string of coincidences just confirmed that feeling. Weird!
Stop the presses! Ricky Martin is gay!
Although this news won’t come as a surprise to most of us, it will be truly devastating to Tatie-Pie Susko, the evil sister of Moose Jaw Fashion Week muse Marjie Withajay. Although Tatie-Pie is married to west-coast donut magnate Rojando, she’s spent the last decade or so pining over the pop star and dreaming of the day when Martin would rescue her from her drab, humdrum life. Meanwhile, Marjie’s been peeling potatoes and washing the skid marks out of Rojando’s underpants, waiting for a moment when Tatie-Pie would became distracted, eager to escape from the shackles of her cruel oppressor.
That moment has arrived. Run Marjie — run like the wind! Moose Jaw is calling you, and this may be your only chance to get away. Run!
Happy birthday, MC Hammer. I think I saw this pattern in Christophe Decarnin’s back pocket.
Happy birthday, Jill Goodacre. For old time’s sake, I’d love to see you, Stephanie Seymour and Frederique on the Victoria’s Secret runway someday. It had better be soon, too. Otherwise they’ll be attaching angel’s wings to your walkers . . .