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 Holly Golightly didn't tread softly at all when it came to gulping down the booze.
If you, too, awake on the first day of 2008 with the mean reds, I have a foolproof plan for taming them. First, rent "Breakfast at Tiffany's" because it's fun, witty and unbearably easy on the eyes.
Then, prepare my favorite tipple: a banana milkshake. It's a proven remedy for the worst Champers O.D. aftermath. The potassium and magnesium in the bananas will restore your depleted levels and the honey will up your sugar paucity. The milk should soothe the tummy too.
The Holly Gone Too Far Banana Milkshake:
1 pint of cold milk
1 scoop of vanilla ice cream
1 banana
1 tablespoon of honey
Put all ingredients into a blender, cover your ears, and puree like a banshee.
Serves two. (Or one person who drank enough liquor for two.)
Favorite Holly Golightly quote:
Paul Varjak: "Holly, you're drunk."
Holly Golightly: "True."
Cheers, darling. Happy New Year!
Photo credits: Paramount
 Ah, remember the good old days? Warren Beatty called up Jack Nicholson and they hatched a plan to ring in the New Year with plenty of booze, broads and cigarettes. The only money that exchanged hands probably paid for cocktail onions and swizzle sticks.
Nowadays, celebrities don't get off the couch on Dec. 31 without the lure of a paycheck. Come Monday night, it's reported that Paris and Nicky Hilton will be paid $500,000 just to stand around and pout at LAX club in Las Vegas. Meanwhile, Ashlee Simpson and her beau Pete Wentz will make $150,000 to host festivities at the Shore Club in Miami. Then, there's Pam Anderson pocketing over  $100,000 to show off her assets at Pure in Vegas. (Last year, Brit pulled in $350,000 for her stint as guest of honor at Pure. See, left)
I'm not sure whom I pity more: the celebs who pimp themselves out like blow-up dolls on the last night of the year. Or the people who pay upwards of $100 to be a guest at these parties and catch a glimpse of Paris' ankle. Clearly, the lineup I mentioned bears little distinction when compared with great actors. But these days, getting paid to hawk water or speak at a charity event or wear a designer gown is common practice. The declasse trend gives new meaning to the term, "Auld Lang Syne."
Photo credits: Beatty, Getty Images; Britney, WireImage
 Having interviewed a style editor about gift giving, I got to thinking about my own holiday wish list. What do I really want? God, just thinking about it reminds me of post-college conversations with my parents, lame sessions with guidance counselors and the upraised eyebrows of assorted therapists I have seen in my lifetime.
This year, my husband and I have eschewed a present swap without really discussing it much at all. We're getting our place professionally painted next week, and so our walls are getting wrapped -- in a way. Plus, we buy each other little gifts -- like an old Cat Stevens album from Amoeba or a pulp fiction detective novel -- all the time. I know that he bought me a book at Taschen the other day because he hip-checked me out of the shop in Beverly Hills.
I, on the other hand, eyed some monogrammed cuff links for him, but didn't follow through. I also contemplated a vintage camera, a membership to a comic book of the month club (I don't even know if one exists, but it should) and a cookbook for him. He recently made baked chicken with great success and I need to act on the Iron Chef-high before he reverts back to saying, "What's wrong with hot tuna and noodles?"
Not exchanging gifts is actually a great present in itself. In my past, a gift from a man I was dating -- or engaged to -- carried too much gravitas. If a man gave me slippers, I found them to be utterly unromantic and therefore, deemed our relationship "lustless." If a man bought me jewelry, it just didn't sparkle enough (or, I sheepishly admit, cost enough). Unwrapping a present, for me, was like reaching inside his chest to weigh his heart. Invariably, it was always a few ounces short.
 This year, my husband and I will probably take a walk at some point on Christmas and cook dinner early and then drink some great wine and play Guitar Hero in our underwear. The tree -- already drying up and jettisoning needles everywhere -- will stand without a bounty of wrapped loot beneath it. My husband's heart will remain unscathed.
Having said that, I do have a wish list. It's fun to think about what you want in the abstract, without the pressure of expectation. For years, I have coveted the work of local artist Kim McCarty, and her watercolor series of boys and girls has always awed me. In their faces, seemingly both reticent and eager to please, I see myself wanting and not wanting to be bothered. I think I apply that same dichotomy of desire to gifts. Not this year, though.
Credit: Kim McCarty paintings, kimmccarty.net
 I am not obsessed with PETA or the ongoing debate over the ethics of wearing fur. But I have to say that Mary J. Blige and Patti Labelle have outdone themselves in thumbing their noses at animal activists. Here's a quote from Blige, from last January, when she told PETA, in essence, to shove it:
"Those PETA people don’t want to mess with me, they don’t want to throw paint on my coat because it’s not just going to be throwing paint. It’s going to be Mary in the news the next day, you know what I mean?"
I know what she means. I suspect that Blige could maim a polar bear with her bare hands. PETA had better steer clear of her.
Photo credit: WireImage
 In researching Brigitte Bardot for my cat eye post, I came across photos of her as a brunette and the power of blonde struck me.
Hence, I will post -- every now and again -- on "Before they were blonde." I begin with Klum, who was born with a cocoa-hued mane and modeled as a brunette in her native Germany for a while.
But it was "hitting the bottle" (of peroxide) that vaulted her career into supermodel orbit.
Here's her quote about what a difference some bleach makes:
"Going blonde is like buying yourself a light bulb!"
This week in the paper, I wrote about a new trend here in L.A. in which blondes get dark roots painted on to look like they haven't bothered to go to the salon. It's a rather uproarious trend.
Read it here.
Photo credits: Vogue; Bravo.com
 When it comes to bestowing presents, New York style editor Allison Reynolds wins the blue ribbon. Her wit, imagination and bull-dogged pursuit of the most unique offerings has garnered her a reputation and countless invites to birthday parties.
In addition to freelancing as a market editor for magazines, she has put together gift guides for Harper's Bazaar, People magazine and Bravo.com. Here's her take on how to win the coveted trophy for best gift giver.
Describe your style as a gift giver: "I imagine I am a cross between
 Maria Callas and Dennis the Menace, a diva with a case of hyperactivity. "Darling it’s Hermes. Open it, open it!"
What is the best present you ever received? Why?
"Keeping a theme… as of late I enjoyed tickets to the Metropolitan Opera’s showing of Anthony Minghella’s 'Madame Butterfly.' It was a mesmerizing performance and I am thrilled I saw it. Now I know the story of 'Madame Butterfly.' "
Worst gift you ever gave someone?
"Whew, being a confidently cruel and vindictive glamour puss, I don’t get to do it enough.  Lately, I’d say it would be a calculator shaped like a carton of eggs. It’s called the egg-ulator. That was sort of bitchy and regift-y…"
What's the biggest mistake people make when giving gifts?
"They give things THEY want. No no no. One must look at the receiver and give them something that suits their style, soul and sassy self."
If your sister-in-law has atrocious taste, do you indulge it and buy her a sequined toilet seat cover?
"Hell no! No sequined seat covers. No Precious Moment figurines. Stop the insanity. Your job is now to imbue some good taste. Act as a taste wizard/superhero. Wear the cape and shield when you give her a cashmere throw or a coffee table book on “Style”… Do it!"
 Name your top three online sources for unique
gifts:
Momastore.com
Dashwoodbooks.com
Hableconstruction.com
Better books: Taschen or Rizzoli?
"I’d say Rizzoli. I’m a little stiff. Although the Ralph Lauren book nearly did me in… egads. Now I am into a little Cali publishing house called Ammo who have a picture book on Hunter S. Thompson’s antics called 'Gonzo.' I likey."
How much should you spend on a hostess gift?
"$50 seems civilized."
Give us your top three picks for last-minute gifts that  won't bludgeon your bank account.
"Amaryllis in a beautiful terra cotta potty.
A crazy expensive toothpaste like Marvis. No one’s going to buy that for themselves. A little oral decadence and you’re out $15, tops.
Or a carton of clementines.
Oh I could go on and on…."
Photo credits: Reynolds, private collection; Callas, Bruno Rosi; Menace, Hank Ketcham; eggulator, Fredflare.com; "Peter Beard," Dashwood Books; "Gonzo," Ammo.
 Page Six today reports that Kim Cattrall doesn't want blood on her hands for wearing all those furs and carrying skins (thanks to designer Nancy Gonzalez) in the new "Sex and the City" movie. OK, a girl has to make a living. But wouldn't Cattrall be more effective if she refused to wear fur or carry an exotic skin bag in her role as Samantha? Even worse, the item says that Cattrall -- who is "adamantly against fur" -- will donate all the luxury merchandise back to PETA after the shoot.
What will they do with it? PETA will mark the furs and skins with a red X and give them to homeless people. Is there anything more absurd and degrading than making indigent folks wear some sort of sucky scarlet letter? Will a lizard skin blazer really keep a guy on the street warm? How stupid, hypocritical and humiliating.
Photo credits: Cattrall, Wire Image; homeless woman, Life
 In today's WWD, an article takes a close look at the outcome of an aborted awards season. As you know, the writers are on strike and plan to picket outside the Golden Globes at the Beverly Hills Hilton hotel on Jan. 13. Organizers may smartly decide to eschew the red carpet and fanfare to convince actors -- leery of crossing the line -- to come out for the show.
(At left, Barbra Streisand at the Oscars in 1969, wearing Arnold Scaasi. Nice buns, Babs!)
If so, no red carpet means no fashion parade. In the WWD story, designers like Donna Karan and Stefano Gabbana are quoted on the economics of the red carpet. Yes, it befits them financially to have Scarlett Johansson or Gwyneth Paltrow sashay down the press line in one of their gowns.
But it is Roberto Cavalli's realistic take on the proceedings that I prefer. Cavalli says: "It's true that Oscars bring us a lot of work, but personally I've always taken it as pure fun. Without any doubt, getting stuff on the red carpet propels a brand in the realm of dreams. However, to be honest, it's the ego, the designer's own vanity that really gets flattered by being featured on the red carpet and that is not easy to quantify."
(Celine Dion didn't know if she was coming or going in this pant suit by John Galliano for Dior in 1999, right.)
Ah, Cavalli has nailed it. It is truly about ego. After all, women in Kansas -- or Oceanside, for that matter -- don't rush out to buy a Gucci frock just because Nicole Kidman wears Gucci to the Globes. They may buy an entry into the brand, like a pair of sunglasses or a wallet, but even that is iffy. (In all fairness, Cavalli dresses more of the Grammy crowd than the Oscar crowd, so he isn't exactly losing business if the award shows  must not go on.)
(Cher wore this Bob Mackie ostrich-feather headdress (which reportedly weighed 50 pounds) to the Oscars in 1986 to protest the dress code memo that went out to nominees and members.)
So much hype has been paid to the red carpet and who's wearing whom. Of course, the fixation with fashion for the show dates back to the days when Edith Head dressed the likes of Grace Kelly for the Academy Awards. But still, would it be such a bad thing to have the show focus on talent, rather than fashion taste? Very few actresses even dress themselves these days, so their red carpet get-ups are really more of a reflection of a stylist's choices or even an endorsement contract with a designer.
Then again, the ceremonies have become so long and boring and canned that the red carpet highlights stick in my mind as the most memorable moments.
Here's a novel idea: How about we hold the Globes and the Oscars on the red carpet? That way, the writers can come too.
Photo credits: Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences
 At the New York premiere of "The Great Debaters," director Denzel Washington showed up sans necktie. Fine, D. You're an auteur and you don't conform to society's idea of a well-dressed man.
But, you should know that only prisoners, nerds and Mexican gangsters wear their shirts buttoned to their chins.
Might I suggest this Robert Godley blue geometric tie ($115) from Barneys, which I know that you could pull off like no other man. The electric color is muted by the masculine design.
You don't have to tell me that you wouldn't be caught dead wearing a tie festooned with lime green whales a-spouting or laughing dachshunds. Believe me, Mr. Washington, I get it.
Photo credits: WireImage; Barneys
 Maybe. Maybe not.
Clearly, more kids means more movie ticket sales -- somewhere, down the road. And isn't it odd that a baby has replaced the YSL Muse bag as the latest accessory in Hollywood?
Jamie Lynn Spears, 16, may be the youngest starlet to join the gestation team, but she joins a congo line of young, famous bellies.
Plus, the aggressive marketing team behind "Juno" at Fox Searchlight will stop at nothing to promote their feel-good -- even through the morning sickness -- movie about an elfin pregnant teen.
And is it just a coincidence that the CDC released a study that reported that teen pregnancy is up for the first time in 14 years? Here are the specifics: Between 2005 and 2006, the birth rate for girls 15 to 19 rose 3%, from 40.5 births per 1,000 in 2005 to 41.9 births per 1,000 in 2006.
Look, I haven't done any surveys -- or even polled girls at the mall -- but I think the pregnancy boom in Hollywood has affected middle America. It's not hard to imagine a teen girl deciding to have a baby when her heroes -- Christina Aguilera, Jessica Alba and Nicole Richie -- are all making motherhood look sexy and frankly, easy.
You may scoff, but I have interviewed teens and they look up to Nicole Richie, unbelievably enough. And when you see a picture of your idol -- though she may be years older -- and she's talking about how excited she is to have a baby in an interview, it is duly noted.
As for the effect on Hollywood, I seriously think a teen pregnancy witch hunt could hurt "Juno" when it comes time for award season. Agree?
Photo credits: Fox Searchlight; MGM
 Forget Mommy and me outfits. If that odd and insufferable trend of mothers and daughters wearing similar designer duds wasn't bad enough, we now have doggy and me. Kim Cattrall -- on the set of the "Sex and the City" movie -- was spotted carrying a Nancy Gonzalez handbag and a leash and collar for her pup designed by Gonzalez too. Then, there's the issue of the matching yellow sheaths. Too much.
Even scarier, Woozie Wear offers matching sweaters, rain coats, and T-shirts for dogs and their owners. Can somebody please call the ASPCA? I mean, come on. Is it fair to assume that your pet has no individuality or fashion flair? Not to mention the fact that those horizontal stripes only make that Yorkie on the right look more squat.
Good dogs, bad trend.
Photo credits: New Line; Woozie Wear
 Belstaff, the Italian-based but originally English designer of upscale rugged wear and motorcycle garb, outfitted Steve McQueen back in the day in its Trialmaster jacket. Toughies Marlon Brando and James Dean were fans too.
Since then, everyone from Tom Cruise (in the "Mission Impossible" movies) to Will Smith (in "I Am Legend:) has donned the sturdy, retro leather or nylon jackets to assume tough guy status. The designer's push in Hollywood has been more aggressive than a bully in a schoolyard. Nicole Kidman wore one in 'The Interpretor'; Scarlett  Johansson sported one in 'Match Point.'
Not only are these jackets mighty cool, but they have a patented PCM or "phase change" fabric that adjusts with your body temperature. I dig the Trialmaster Excelsior jacket (right, about $500) in nylon. The retro touches like a belted waist and Nehru-like collar make it stand out. Plus, I, too, want to look Steve McQueen.
photo credits: McQueen, McQueen's Machines; The Great Escape, Columbia; Belstaff
 Okay, minxes. I promised to deliver a how-to on the Brigitte Bardot cat eye and I will not disappoint. But please remember that creating a look takes time and practice. Did Bardot perfect her signature style overnight? Probably not.
I certainly didn't. I have been staring at my mug in the mirror all weekend and working on my technique. I have a trash can filled with blackened cotton swabs and a few empty bottles of Syrah.
Moving on...
What you will need: 1. A steady hand. Don't even think about trying this at home if you're jacked up on coffee or in a rush. Take deep breaths and relax.
 2. Black eyeliner. I like this Guerlain Divinora Eye-liner ($32, sephora.com) because it looks so elegant and the brush is needle sharp. Liquids rule. Pencils suck, by the way, and smudge.
 Gel eyeliners are easier for the newbie. Bobbi Brown's Long-Wear gel is smudge-proof and waterproof, ($19; bobbibrown.com). You will need a brush -- of course -- and I like a bent brush like this one from Smashbox ($20). That way, you can draw a line with more ease.
3. A neutral eyeshadow -- peach or taupe. You don't want to add color to the lid or diffuse the cat eye by blending.
 4. Tried and true mascara. A cat eye without the proper fringe is like a plate of linguini and no fork. Just bad news. Every makeup artist I have ever interviewed swears by this Maybelline Great Lash.
Let's do it:
Step one: Brush the neutral shadow on entire lid. Blend this color from your lids softly up to your brow bone, as your base shadow. You may want to add a bit of subtle shimmer under the arch of your eyebrow.
Step two: Starting on the inside of the eye, trace the black liquid eyeliner right along your upper lash line with a steady hand. The line should be ultra-fine. The only way to create a thicker line is to go  back and add another right next to the first one. By doing this, you already have a straight line to follow. (It helps to gently pull the lid out to create a straight lash line.)
Notice that Bardot went ape with the liner, on both upper and lower lash lines. I imagine she went back and drew line after line to get a thickness that ain't easy to pull off. You should start thin and add gradually. It's like using spice. Go easy, tiger.
Step three: You want to flip the line upwards at the end toward the temple. This is a very retro look and you can go more subtle and still get some oomph. See Angelina Jolie's subtle wing, right. I advise applying the liner on the UPPER line only, at first. It's more sophisticated. Would it kill that woman to smile? At the outer corner, flick your eyeliner brush upwards and outwards. Be sure to taper it instead of making it a thick, squarish line.
  Step four: Add a boatload of mascara to TOP LASHES ONLY. I am talking like two, maybe even three coats. You might want to either add a few false eyelashes to the outer lashes OR just add more mascara there. The longer the lashes at the outer end, the more of a cat eye you get.
CHECK OUT THESE BEFORE AND AFTER PHOTOS. CLEARLY, BARDOT OWES HER CAREER AND SEX APPEAL TO MESSY BLONDE BEDROOM HAIR AND GALLONS OF EYELINER.
Step five: Clean up any smudges or wayward lines with a damp Q-tip. Be sure that the wings match in shape and size on each eye. Done? Wink at your reflection and go break some hearts.
Photo credits: Jolie, WireImage; makeup, Sephora.com; Bardot, BrigitteBardot.com.
Dear readers,
I do a manners column in print, but figured I would also post here so we can perhaps get a discussion going. Do you curse your #$@% off at work? I definitely do. In fact, I find that I am profane often without even thinking about it, as in "Let's make some F--ing coffee" or "My weekend was utter shi+."
It's ugly and vulgar -- but I love to curse. For me, it's rewarding in its repugnance and its aural violence. A loud curse is like punching a pillow or throwing a plate.
I also love to give the bird, but that merits another discussion entirely. Technique, timing, etc.
So, back to the manners column. And I know that many of you are wondering how I can claim to be a lover of "good manners" while I curse like a dude on death row. More on my definition of etiquette on another post.
Anyway, I recently received a letter from someone who is offended by all the profanity in her workplace at a movie studio and she sought advice. Here's what I had to say: Q: I'm not a total prude or anything, but I work at a movie studio next to an assistant who curses nonstop. He throws the F-word left and right under his breath and then says,"Sorry, guys!" My boss thinks it's funny, but he doesn't have to listen to it all day. One day I asked him to say "fudge" instead, and he laughed and told me to "Fudge off!" I don't want to go to human resources because everyone will know it was me who complained. How can I get him to clean up his act?
--
Dear A.M.,
Fiddlesticks, baby. You're climbing the wrong darn ladder. Hollywood loves profanity, especially the F-word. Like many of this town's most powerful men, it's short and decisive. Even the more towering of titans cuss like convicts. Producer Scott Rudin has been known to string more than a dozen variations on the F-bomb into one insult. Harvey Weinstein prefers to use it conversationally, even cordially -- as in, "How the F was your honeymoon?" And always one for compromise, Lynda Obst reportedly cultivated a reputation for ending creative tussles with, "We'll do it my F-ing way."
 If that's not disappointing enough, there's more incentive for your colleague to bleep. A recent study conducted at University of East Anglia in England found that profanity in the office promotes solidarity. The researchers explained that swearing can be a "relief mechanism" and prevent "primitive physical aggression." Meaning, your colleague could be hog-tying you with his headset if it weren't for all that cathartic cursing. They also discovered that women use expletives in the workplace nearly as much as men.
As for approaching HR, I wouldn't advise it unless your co-worker is harassing you personally. "Fudge off" doesn't really cut it either. Your best bet is to see if there is any way for you to switch to a cube that is farther away from Mr. Foul Mouth, or ask your direct boss if he can ask the guy to curb his tongue. Tell him that those random expletives interfere with your calls to important people (producers, screenwriters, or directors), who might mistakenly assume that they're being called %$#@s and *&^%s. Your boss won't find that funny at all.
Lastly, you might think about a career shift to a more wholesome field, like hip-hop. Both rappers Chamillionaire and Master P are now making profanity-free music. Dang!
 Congrats to Julie Christie on her Golden Globe nomination for "Away From Her." The actress has always been a sound style icon, especially in her role as a swinging '60s glamour puss in "Darling." But it's the iconic vision of her in a Cossack hat in "Doctor Zhivago" that typically comes to mind. You can get the look -- in faux mink-- with this Russian hat at Sport Chalet, ($38). Who else, besides me, needs one for Sundance?
 There will be blood.
PETA has taken on the Olsen twins for using fur in their fashion line with a campaign titled "The Trollsen Twins."
If you go to PETA's website, you can dress up "Hairy Kate" or "Trashley" in bloodied fur shoes, hats and miniskirts.Think animated Barbie dolls -- with lots of blood.
It's not only foul, but incredibly juvenile -- and I, too, am against wearing fur. PETA needs a new marketing maven. In the meantime, Sharon Stone, who just announced that she will design her own line of furs, had better watch her back.
Photo credits: PETA; Stone, Reuters
WWD reports here that sales of white briefs in the U.K. have jumped 50% since it was announced that David Beckham would be the face of Emporio Armani underwear. Sales of the actual line of men's lingerie by Armani rose 30%. I find it pretty amazing that David Beckham holds such sway over Brit laddies shopping for undies.
Especially since a study done by University of Bath this past March predicted that Beckham's appeal as an endorser would wane as consumers tired of seeing famous mugs attached to certain brands. "With so many new releases, manufacturers are running the risk that consumers will become increasingly confused and frustrated by the never-ending choice of celebrity endorsed products," said a senior analyst.
Armani was smart to snag someone so famous and willing to strip down to his skivvies. I am sure that if George Clooney posed in boxers and black socks by Calvin Klein, a lot of dudes would find those very shorts in their Christmas stockings this year. Photo credits: Beckham, Armani; Clooney, Splash
 Variety contacted Golden Globe nominees yesterday to get their reactions. My fave? Ryan Gosling, who said:
"I was in a bed when I got this screaming, crying call from my sister. I thought something terrible had happened. Then my mother called and it was even worse. Eventually I deciphered the news. It was great that they were excited but I didn't know why they were so hysterical. They just see [gift] bags and swag rooms in their future."
Photo credit: GQ
And so begins a new weekly feature on All The Rage, in which we learn moderation from a celebrity. They get paid to look good. They must have some decent advice, right? This tasty tidbit from Dame Elizabeth Taylor comes from a NY Times interview in May of 1986.
 ''You have to try to get your head at the right place,'' Miss Taylor said. ''Where you can make it click. Without that inner click it doesn't matter how many fad diets you go on.''
Miss Taylor said she now keeps her weight down by eating carefully but always allowing herself one day a week to ''pig out.''
She elaborated: ''Fried chicken. Mashed potatoes. With lots of gravy. Lima beans. Corn. Chocolate cake of some kind. But then the next two days you really have to watch it.''
She added, ''It's not like alcohol. Life on a total diet for the rest of one's life would be totally depressing.''
Photo credit: Liz, Getty Images; Chicken, worldofstock.com; cake, Copenhagenbakery.com
 Of course, Faye Dunaway would just yawn about another round of nominations and the preliminary fanfare and those misshapen, rabid journalists with their sad, prying questions.
And all that effort for just a short, bald guy who can't even buy a gal dinner or ferry her off to a private island to catch a sunset?
 Ever wonder what it was that Bill Murray whispered to Scarlett Johansson in the final scene of "Lost in Translation"? Of course, you did. The scuttlebutt around Hollywood was that Scarlett wasn't very well liked on the set. Sofia Coppola did not thank her when she won an Independent Spirit Award. Did Bill whisper something nice or nasty? Press here to find out, as some techno-wizards have somehow recovered the sound.
Spolier alert: It is incredibly anti-climactic.
photo credit: Focus
A great story in today's NY Times looks at how pet owners perceive their dogs as actual offspring and afford them privileges associated with humans. I recently met a vintner who had three vets for his Lab. Has your dog been to Mozza yet? -- photo: Getty Images
 Marc Jacobs' annnual holiday party in NY is about as close to Truman Capote's black and white party as fetes come these days. He demands that everyone wear a costume (no entry, otherwise) and shuts the doors definitively at a certain time. Kind of ironic for a man who's chronically late with his fashion shows, but, hey, he's buying the Moet and jumbo shrimp so he makes the rules.
This year, Jacobs decided to make a political statement about unitards, circulation-compromising denim and overzealous labias. His costume? A camel toe in protest of itself? The theme was Arabian Nights. Clearly, if nothing else, this costume prevented the sober designer from sneaking to the bar--or bathroom--to drink or drug. Though a hammered camel toe always works.
photo credit: Getty
People. This is my very first brush with live blogging. Luckily, I am on glass numero uno of vino. Laugh with me. Cry with me. Bear with me.
9:56: They are recapping the last moments of last week, when Heidi says "You're out." Poor Chris. I already miss the big bear in the Hawaiian shirt. Aloha, Auf Weidersehen.
10:00: It's starting. Sweet P's bangs are high maintenance. Oh dear. A pimple in his nose?
10:02: The models are middle-aged women who have lost boatloads of weight. I am jealous. Kind of glad Chris is gone. This might have been painful for him. Christian says "This is so not me at all." What he means is: "Even women who were once fat repulse me."
10:05: Steve got the wedding dress. He is so OUT this week. Who wants to bet me?
10:08: Christian definitely has issues with women who aren't 19 and rail thin and gorgeous. Steve is not very upbeat -- he would make a lousy bridesmaid. I LOVE Elisa because she's so positive and upbeat. Kind of like a Prozac hidden in a gummi bear - yum!
10:10: There is SO much attention on Steve. He will either soar or sink. I am nervous about Jack and his possible staph infection. The fact that he is HIV positive makes it very scary. Notice that Victorya does not seem very concerned.
10:12: Tim Gunn has taken Jack aside. Jack is leaving. Very sad. I wonder if everyone feels like they have to cry? Not Victorya.
 10:19: Chris is back. Holy %$@#! I don't think anyone is really threatened by him though. Do you? I like how he is chatting about his diet history. Steven is bombing with that black sheath.
10:21: Tim is such a marionette. I love his stern side. He doesn't look convinced that Elisa can make it happen. Steve is dead meat.
AT THIS POINT LAST NIGHT, MY LAP TOP CRASHED. But I managed to correctly predict that Steve was going home. FYI: He's probably back home in Chicago.
I think Chris' days are numbered if he keeps sending Disney costumes down the runway. And Elisa -- a friend of mine, actually -- may be too esoteric and ethereal for mass market Project Runway. I hope Jack recovers and comes back.
 The festive shopkeepers on Melrose Boulevard--between Westbourne and La Cienega--have banded together to offer 20% off all merchandise on Thursday night, between 6:00 p.m. and 9:00. Hit erotic emporium Coco de Mer (for racy stocking stuffers), RetroSpecs, Alpha, Soolip, and others for savings.
Refreshments and treats will be served and you can visit the Naughty Santa's Grotto for a salacious snap shot with St. Nick. Is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? Ho!
Sounds like the perfect antidote to the Grove.
First, it was reported that Suri Cruise had custom lasts made by shoe designer Christian Louboutin so that she could order $500 footwear on demand. Yesterday, we got an e-mail from the publicist at Joe's jeans to let us know that Suri has been spotted in the Alps, wearing $74 stretch denim. (Joe's even makes skinny jeans for kids.)
Does anyone really care that Suri wears a certain
brand of designer jean? Or that her Burberry dress probably costs more than a laptop?
Yes, indeed. In fact, Us Weekly recently put Suri on the cover and even catalogued her wardrobe. Oh and there happens to be countless blogs devoted to celebrity offspring and their fashion choices -- like Babyrazzi.com, celebritybabyclothes.com, and celebritybabyscoop.com. If ever there was a sign that the cultural apocalypse is at hand, that may be it.
 Selfishly,
I can't wait until Suri starts investing in real estate and private islands. Maybe she could buy my two-bedroom condo in West Hollywood and I will blog about it on celebritybabyrealestate.com.
photo credits: Holmes and Cruise, Splash; Suri, Bauer-Griffin.
 David Beckham is the new face of Emporio Armani underwear and this prelim shot by Marcus Piggott and Mert Alas has everyone's panties in a twist. It's not very imaginative or playful--but the lighting of Beckham's rib cage is quite stunning. Like the reflection of a ripple on a lake.
What's funny to me is that Calvin Klein approached the soccer star in February of 2006 to model for his CK line. At the time, British papers reported that Beckham spent about $1,700 a month on CK underwear because he never wore the same pair twice. Apparently, Posh did the shopping and just marched up to counters with piles of briefs. That kind of excess makes them so despicable. Even more annoying is the fact that Becks will make $40 milllion for his three year contract with Armani.
Frankly, I prefer this 1977 ad campaign by Jockey in which athletes looked slightly
goofy and awkward.
The copy read: "Take away their uniforms and who are they." Clearly, Pete Rose is hairy, a bit stocky and in desperate need of a hair cut. Somehow, I don't think that Rose threw out his groovy briefs after one wearing. He probably made like $300 back then too.
photo credits: Beckham, Armani; Rose, Jockey.
This little French bulldog puppy--named Mighty Louis--shows amazing restraint, as a pair of Christian Louboutins try to seduce him.
Here's a tip from doglogic.com for preventing your pup from feasting on your footwear:
You, as the owner, must accept responsibility to teach the dog what to chew on. But remember that it's easier (and more pleasant) to reward your dog frequently, rather than punish him frequently! This means removing valuable or important items from his reach. Either put those things away or keep the dog confined when you are not watching him. Deterrents like Grannick's Bitter Apple Taste Deterrent or Tabasco sauce can be helpful in reducing destructive chewing, but they aren't a cure for destructive chewing and shouldn't replace good supervision.
Got a tip for keeping Fido from chewing on a stiletto? Bark below.
photo credit: Tim Palen
 Never mind the fact that Kate Moss looks like she murdered ten skunks and the abominable snow man for her Fendi fur coat. Even more haughty is her style choice beneath the anti-PETA outerwear: a freaking leotard. Pairing a black Danskin with tights, high boots and a belt does not make it a dress.
But Moss isn't the only lady who thinks the world is her Swan Lake stage. Beyonce performed in Addis Ababa last month wearing a taupe leotard with an attached spangled capelet. It's very Ice Capades-cum-middle school tap dance recital, don't you think?
Lindsay Lohan, on the other hand, likes to accessorize her leotard with dated fashion ephemera. Last October for Halloween, she sported this white stretchy suit with leggings and sweat bands and a garter belt and fingerless lace gloves. It's very
 Madonna meets Jane Fonda meets a New Jersey teen bride, with a sprinkling of Walt Frazier for good measure.
I understand how stars could easily become distracted when getting ready. The phone rings or someone hands you a stiff Scotch on the rocks and the next thing you know, you're exiting a limo sans pants or skirt.
The one upside to '80s dancewear as everyday get up is that you needn't worry about panty flashes or pesky bra straps showing.
photo credits: Moss, Bauer-Griffin; Beyonce, Reuters; Lohan, Splash.
 Dear Daniel Day Lewis,
Some may scoff,
others will titter. 
My guess?
They are all just bitter.
For that plaid,
we are all so glad.
Bold and heady,
You roar like Helen Reddy.
You went where few dared,
except for
Mr. E=MC, squared.
GENIUS.
photo credits: Wire Image; Princeton University.
 Uggs, much like Pamela Lee Anderson, will never fade away. On Fashionflock.com,  designer Stacy Johnson reports that she fought on ebay to win a pair of crocheted black Uggs. Both Lindsay Lohan and Nicole Richie have been spotted in the knit verison, which may be the strongest strain of the dying Uggs species. I have to admit that they are cute in a homespun slipper way. Perfect for plane travel.
Be sure to also check out Johnson's Missoni-inspired knit designs, like this cowl neck pullover, $168.
The photographers, Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott, also collaborated with Marc Jacobs on Visionaire 52, a limited edition ($375) devoted to the human form. Packaged in a gold Louis Vuitton valise, the sumptuous tome features subjects like Drew Barrymore, Stella McCartney, super models, and Jennifer Lopez. Check out the interior here at Visionaireworld.com.
 Bang it up, baby
Keira Knightley is the latest starlet to transform her look with blunt bangs that graze her eyebrows. Katie Holmes and Christina Ricci are also sporting the style, which is severe and youthful -- think Anna Wintour meets Lulu Brooks. It definitely adds polish, but those bangs are a bitch to get straight if you have any wave in your tresses at all.
Care to wear Samantha's panties?
WWD reports that "Sex and the City" has partnered with Italian lingerie designer Cosabella to release a line of undies and bras named for each character. The line hits stores next April. I suspect that Miranda's namesake lingerie will see the least sales.
Wino + Bardot = Coco
At the "Paris-Londres" fashion show last week, Karl Lagerfeld payed homage to Amy Winehouse and Brigitte Bardot with mile-high messy beehives and wayward eyeliner, reports Suzy Menkes in the IHT. Read about the "Gothic crosses and gilded lace gloves" and the London cabs emblazoned with Chanel logos. It wasn't so long ago that Lindsay Lohan was the kaiser's muse du jour at Chanel's cruise show here in L.A. Is it that designers have no interest in starlets who hit rehab and clean up their acts?
Photo credits: Keira, AP and Globe; Chanel runway look, catwalking.com.
 Are Carrie Bradshaw and co. the new "Golden Girls"? Yikes! Just imagine Bea Arthur in a bustier, drunk on Cosmos.
"AGING sucks," announces author Charla Krupp in the introduction of her new book, "How Not to Look Old." She goes on to list her anatomical pet peeves -- including age spots and spider veins -- and I get it. She had me at chin hair. But then I read on and see that Krupp doesn't want to carp about it, like I do, for a few paragraphs. On Page 2, she outlines her boomer manifesto for 40-plus women: an attack on aging that includes "Y&H" (younger and hipper) concepts to replace "OL" (old lady) habits.
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Holly Golightly didn't tread softly at all when it came to gulping down the booze. 
