Archive for the ‘A Soupçon of Je Ne Sais Quois’ Category
Thanks for the Mammaries
After six glorious years, your dear, old Auntie Fashion will be relocating to this web address. Visit soon and visit often!
Back to Reality
Well, I’m back from Las Vegas. I’ve actually been back for a few days, but it takes me a while to pull myself together after a trip to Sin City. Highlights of my stay at the MGM Grand include getting tracked down at the slot machines by a VIP Casino Host who wanted to introduce herself to my high-rolling friend Tatie-Pie, and getting my entire bill comped because I spent too much in the casino. Whoops! It got even more ridiculous when I got home and found an email in my inbox telling me that they would send a limousine for me the next time I visited. They know a sucker when they see one!
I didn’t spend the entire time gambling, though. I drank a lot, too. I can’t wait to get to the gym this morning to work off some of this bloat. Surviving on the maraschino cherries the waitresses plop into my Mai Tais is not a weight-management strategy that I’d recommend, although the supplementary fiber kept me from regularly pulling up to the trough at the buffet like many of my fellow gamblers. Jeez, there are a lot of fat people in Vegas!
On that note, the town has really become nightlife central. I know this because every evening around nine o’clock an army of fat girls in short, strapless dresses from the Bebe outlet store would march through the MGM on their way to Hakkasan, a huge nightclub. I’d watch them from my slot machine, tugging up their sausage casing-like bodices as they tromped down the aisles in sky-high heels that made them pitch forward like gorillas with lower-back problems.
Now I don’t care what anyone wants to look like: if that’s your shtick, the more power to you. It just reminds me of how inelegant Las Vegas has become. I was in the casino when a bride walked by in her full regalia, accompanied by her groom and two people in baggy cargo shorts and rumpled T-shirts. My friend Tatie-Pie leaned over to me and whispered “So nice of her family to dress up.” Oh, that made me laugh! But then I looked at Tatie-Pie, sitting there with her cute haircut, a simple black dress that she had bought at Ann Taylor earlier that day, her lovely Bottega Veneta bag (yes, that’s a little overkill, but you get my point, right?), and I said to myself “It really doesn’t take that much effort, does it?”
I suppose that I should be grateful that not everyone knows how to dress, or iron, or bathe. It makes people like me look all the more elegant and sophisticated. I was really dumbfounded when the casino offered me limousine service because I don’t believe that I’m a high roller — I didn’t spend that much money! But I guess when the casino hosts are given the choice of having more skanks looking to score in the hotel, or more people who wear pants, it’s lucky for me that they always choose the latter.
Vacation!
Guess who is spending St. Patrick’s Day in Las Vegas? That’s right — me!
I normally don’t go out of my way to celebrate the holiday, but for some reason it feels like a lucky day to me this year; all the signs are there! I’m staying at the MGM Grand which was also known as “The Emerald City” when it first opened. It’s also the casino where I won a pile of money playing my favorite slot machine, Enchanted Unicorn, which incidentally has a Celtic there. Plus, I’m going with my friend Tatie Pie, and everyone knows how the Irish love their potatoes. And she’s not only a heavy drinker, but also a heavy smoker. If “Angela’s Ashes” was a fragrance, it would smell just like her!
Anyway, I won’t be blogging for the next week. I might have time to get in another post about “Big Brother Canada” later today, but that’s about it. I’ll be back next Thursday or Friday to share stories of how I found my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. See you then!
Distractions . . .
I hate having to apologize for being a bad blogger, but I’m going to do it again.
I’ve been distracted and upset for the past couple of weeks. My poor, old cat Buttercup went to kitty heaven right in the middle of the Milan shows. That’s why I barely got around to reviewing them. When I was finally able to get into the Paris shows, I didn’t really have the time to watch most of them. Once I did get the time, I brought home a new cat from the shelter who has been distracting me by acting like a four-month old kitten.
Meet Bluebell. I thought I was being entirely original when I gave her that name, but I just discovered that Geri Halliwell has a daughter named Bluebell. Anyway, Bluebell is a charcoal gray kitty with phantom tabby stripes and a little silver on her nose and her toes. It’s a really lovely color and it reminds me that I’ve seen a lot of gray on the runways. As the fashion world’s most-enduring muse, my endorsement of this lovely shade of gray means that it’s going to be huge this fall!
In nine more days, I’ll be off on my regular pilgrimage to Las Vegas, and my blog will be neglected once again. Oh well! Maybe I’ll hit the jackpot and be able to make this a full-time job. For the moment, though, all these distractions in my life have me doing almost everything but blogging. That’s just the way it goes sometimes.
Haider Ackermann F/W 2014
Okay, I’m going to break free from my Three Word Runway Review format once again to discuss what I don’t like about Haider Ackermann.
First, however, I would like to mention that I do admire the designer very much. Each season he does something new to present his very distinct style in a new light. I was worried that he might be a one-trick pony when he had his breakthrough season a few years back. I didn’t need to be worried; he continues to impress me.
Yet he has a tendency to make his models look masculine by cutting his clothes to diminish the curve of their hips — and these are women who barely possess hips in the first place. The photo I posted above is probably the “curviest” look in the designer’s latest collection.
I adore gender-bending in fashion, but I don’t like this. Just look back at a few of his fashion shows and you’ll discover that this isn’t all in my head. The guy has a bit of problem accepting that women are shaped like women. They don’t need to wear a belt high on their waist to prove that they have hips because they already do have hips.
Cacharel F/W 2014
I’m going to break free from my Three Word Runway Review format for a moment to mention that this Cacharel look book is the funniest thing I’ve seen all season. Whoever took the photos is a genius!
Paris When It Fizzles
Your old Auntie Fashion had a terribly stressful week last week. As a result, I wasn’t really blogging much about Milan Fashion Week, and now Paris has arrived and my enthusiasm for the event has already fizzled out. I’ve got other things on my mind. Still, I was able to click through a couple of shows just a moment ago and let me just say this: Dries Van Noten F/W 2014 was the prettiest Prada collection I’ve ever seen.
Anyway, now I’m completely distracted by my upcoming trip to Las Vegas in mid-March and the return of many of my beloved reality TV programs that debuted late because of the Winter Olympics. Maybe I’ll get around to reviewing some more fashion shows, and maybe I won’t. All I know is that much of the stress I’ve been feeling has been managed by a few extra trips to the gym, and I’m looking better than ever. Yes, there is a Zob!
Breaking News: I liked the Marc Jacobs show . . .
As one of those sort of people who has a difficult time saying “No,” I guess I should be able to forgive that same character flaw in others. For that reason, I’m going to apologize to Marc Jacobs aka the Evil AntiZob for all the terrible things I’ve said about him in the past. I believe that he’s actually displaying the talent he’s been know to have now that he’s focused on his own label. Without a half-dozen side projects in the works, he’s put on New York Fashion Week’s best show.
Still, I can’t like him in principle yet because he’s an Aries. In fact, as I’m writing this post I am compelled to burn the Adidas track pants that I’m wearing simply because he’s wearing the same pants in this photo.
Baby steps . . . just keep taking baby steps . . .
Auntie Fashion 
