Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Hero: Isabella Rossellini

Hello blogosphere,

I've been preparing this post for a little while because I wanted to do justice to my subject. Isabella Rossellini is beautiful, no duh. She's a wonderful actress with an eclectic career and she was a successful model with a famous Lancome contract and a bazillion Vogue covers to her name. This is not why I'm featuring her. No, Isabella Rossellini gets a whole post to herself not just because she's super stylish but because she is batshit crazy in the acest possible way.


Not in the diva way, unfortunately. This is an old Dolce and Gabbana campaign.

I am always on the lookout for obscure fashion-related literature so when Francine Prose alerted me to Rosellini's autobiography in her neato how-to book "Reading Like a Writer" (books about writing/reading are my porn), I cyber-schlepped over to Amazon Marketplace, paid a teeny £3 fee and lo! "Some of Me" appeared on my doormat two weeks later.



"Some of Me" as any person of substance will, know, is a play on Katherine Hepburn's autobiography "All of Me." It's so called because the author acknowledges, she ain't telling the truth for no-one:

It's a habit of mine to embellish and colour events until I lose sight of what really happened. Even when I was a child my grandmother had to say: "Verita o fantasia?" ---- "Truth or fantast?" If you want to eliminate my grandmother's kindness and to put it more bluntly, I lie. I always did.

Friends, this is the finest celebrity memoir I have ever encountered. Better then that one Groucho Marx tried to ban because he was old and drunk and bitched and libelled up the ying-yang. This book is chock full of glossy photos, famous ex-boyfriends, philosophy and batshit conversations she has with her dead father.

Even the glossy stuff of Rossellini as super-gorgeous model is undercut by humour and a sense of the macabre.



Caption: The first advert where I did not have to use the wax from the undertakers to fix my broken teeth.

Oh god, oh god, I love the beauty industry. And I love Isabella Rossellini even more. On reading in the New York Times about the pristine condition of Lenin's head as preserved by Doctor Sergei Lubov (the doctor was quoted: "If a pathologist looked at samples of skin from Lenin and a fresh corpse, he could not tell which is which, it is so well preserved."), Rossellini cut out the article and sent it Lancome with a note: "Doctor Debov may be of some use to us." But, she adds, I got no response.


Bitch has 28 Vogue covers to her name. 78% have surprised eyes.

And have we even talked about Martin Scorsese and David Lynch? She married Scorsese and dated Lynch for about 7 years. How would we even deal with that in our celebrity-obsessed culture? If it happened today, we'd be forced to refer to them by some awful amalgamation of their names. Scor-bella or Isnch or some shit.


Scorbella


Isnch


I really really have to do a "David Lynch Women" post - there's an insane amount of fashiony stuff to talk about in his films, his collaboration with Christian Louboutin and his latest adverts for Gucci perfumes. Still, this ain't his post, it's Isabella's and that bastard broke her heart. However, h did give her a couple of kick-ass roles in the meantime.

Dorothy in Blue Velvet - the film with "the severed ear in the heart of suburbia" as my A-Level film studies tutors were fond of saying INCESSANTLY



Perdita Durango in Wild At Heart



In addition to all of this eyebrow work, Lynch also gave Rossellini several pieces of his art. This one is my favourite - it's called "How to Assemble a Chicken"



I mean, don't you instinctively warm to a women who lovingly displays a rotted chicken carcass in her home? THAT'S frickin' style in my book.

However, among the many awesome attributes of "Some of Me,' one of the standout chapters concerns Isabella's obsession with insects' sex lives. Truly, I was edu-tained reading about spider masturbation, earthworm self-impregnation and snails that change gender.

"Don't think it was the frequent divorces, the homosexuality, the extra marital affais with the creation of half-brothers and sisters around the world all taking place within my family that forceme into being disrespectful of tradition and adopting unconventional attitudes. My pets helped a great deal. Once you've lived with dogs, cats, rabbits, birds, pig, you've seen it all.... Pets make you face the darkest, most hidden facts of nature. There have been sex crossings, species crossings, even sex with inanimate objects. Spanky, my pig, humped the living room furniture every night."


Isabella with Spanky and his canine companion.

This obsession this the sex lives of animals has taken a completely ace turn recently as Rossellini has just turned director and produced a number of shorts subtitled 'Green Porno' where she stars as a series of insects looking for love. The entire shorts aren't online but you can see an interview with clips here:






If this doesn't convince you that this woman is worthy of worship, then I don't know what to say to you. She dresses as a giant spider and simulates sex with a paper cut-out. What moe do you want? She's fearless, weird, cinema royalty* and she has a sensible haircut. A total out-and-out style hero.

Bug-out, friends,
Becky.


*if I have to tell you she's Ingrid Bergman's daughter, I'll cry.

Tuesday, April 8, 2008

Beauty = Pain = FACT

Hello blogosphere,

Well, I'm finally teething. I hopd it wouln't happen but my wisdom teeth are making a painful bid for daylight. Jeepers, when this happened to my friends, I assumed they were just wusses who couldn't handle pain in my manly fashion but it turns out that the whole shebang is a jaw-in-a-vice experience. Thankfully, I learnt something from my in-bed "America's Next Top Model" youtube marathon - modelling is basically making ouchy faces with fierce eyes. I know this because Tyra descended from the Judging Panel and told me so. You can pop on a red unitard and learn Tyra's lessons for yourself in this clip from the Dance Studio o' Ultimate Wisdom.


Ah! Ah! It hurts so good! And it's not just entertaining - it's science. See how easily I'm able to replicate the results from my very own bedroom:


You see? Sexxy incarnate despite raging gums. And everyone gets a glimpse of my Primark pyjama top. This is why Tyra is our queen.
(I made it b&w for extra klass.)

I can't wait until my herpes sores come through. I'm thinking Inez and Vinoodh or maybe Mert and Marcus will shoot the campaign. I want bling, a fisheye lens and a sparkle caravan. T'will be the fiercest thing you ever did see.

Speaking of the fiercest thing you ever did see, check out fellow fabulous blogger Imelda Matt, working it but hard on Australian TV - here - Kudos for mentioning crack pipes on morning TV, sir/ma'am!

Speaking of crack, I've got some "Make Me a Supermodel" to watch and some painkillers to binge. I'll try and be better and more updatey by tomorrow

Your pal,
Becky

Sunday, March 30, 2008

Trial by Changing Room: Giles for New Look

Hello internet friends,

While Tor holidays in Dexter country (Florida, USA), I am visiting my grandparents in Ashford, Kent. Commonly known as 'Trashford' to discontented teenagers county-wide, I nevertheless view it with rose tinted contact lenses. For one thing, it's got its own tank.


That's WWI right there! In your stupid heritage face, Canterbury!

For another, it is in fair proximity to Bluewater, shopping mall o' American-like proportions and noted favourite of our nation's greatest export: Ms Victoria Beckham. Bluewater is home of every high-end high street shop, designer boutiques and is packed with hilarious mall art. For added value it looks like a space station of the semi-dystopian future.


I've never seen anyone over 30 in there. Just sayin' (10 points + cookies if you know what I'm talking about)

My point, and I do have one, is that Bluewater also houses the oft-dissed 'Gold' Giles Deacon for New Look collection, this year modelled by Agyness Deyn.


I've long been a fan of the Giles Deacon diffusion collection. There's a 1950s sauciness that runs through most of his New Look stuff that I rather enjoy. I also have a huge soft spot for New Look and its sparkly, shiny tickety-tack. I am in the biggest fattest minority on this subject but there it is. So when beloved mother and I pootled up to Bluewater (being a non-driver is tres glam, non?) I was excited to schlep it on upstairs to the changing rooms, ready to brave the sub-tropical temperature engendered by massed teen bodyheat for Sweet Lady Fashion!

Look 1 - Corset Zip Top that I May Have On Backwards



I'm going to charitably say that the hips this top gives me remind me of Jean Paul Gaultier's leather corsets for Hermes. I'm feeling exceptionally generous because I think cheap-looking domanatrixes should exhibit an amicable attitude to life. Still, look at my boobs, right? That's some mighty Marks & Spencer scaffolding at work there. Plus, if I'm always on a backwards angle, it makes me look thin. Life is so much sexier at 45 degrees, people. Grab a protractor and grab some ass, is what I say.



Look 2 - Line-y bondage dress

Y'see, one of the great points in New Look's favour is its democratic approach to sizing. Unlike the Kate Moss @ Topshop debacle, I'm not invited to look in the mirror and feel shame at my non-Mossian jellified, hair-spackled form. In this dress, as denoted by my High Klass modelling 'Rargh' face, I actually feel quite sexy.


Klassy Modelling Face No.34

Look 3 - Flagship Pink




Codename "Exception to the Rule". Even bloggers who hate the Gold colllection have a little crush on this dress. Sherberty pinks and tiny ruffles? Very punk princess. The moment I saw it, I knew it was going to make me look like a coked-up socialite, three months pregnant and in total denial. Which in itself is kind of ace.



Y'see? I love it, my belly loves it - everybody's happy. The little ruffles don't like curves so much and rise up to meet you like little puppy tongues. Fans of my near-constant knicker flashing will enjoy the back shot:



Yes indeed. File it under 'Size 10 or under'. Or embrace the belly and the drunken falling. It's a lifestyle choice thing.


This is my drunk and inconsolable paparazzi look.


Look 4 - White Jeans (Making Elizabeth Hurley Proud)

I have never partaken of this nautical/Notting Hill trend before. However, an endorsement from "The Cheap Date Guide to Style" ("weirdly flattering") and the fact I was feeling a little bit trash, led to the donning of white denim.


To be fair to La Hurley and Cheap Date, paired with my silk M&S tuxedo tunic they do elongate my legs a treat and gave me a different bum entirely. Check it:



However, and almost equally pleasingly, they're totally white-trash pant and buttock revealing with even the slightest bend groundwards. I felt gloriously Jerri Blank in those puppies.




If you're stil looking for the right 47 year old junkie crack-whore to worship as your God, may I humbly suggest
Jerri Blank.

Look 5 - Sequinned Green
Yes the corsage is playing on the wrong side of hideous but like all sequin-y dresses, it was kinda fun and squeezed me into a shiny earthworm shape.



I had fun. And for bonus, the sequins didn't threaten to serrate my Face/Off when I removed the dress.



Look 7 - Corset Top and Frilly Skirt

Okay, the dresses are all fine and good and more unflattering than not. This one, however - I love it. The skirt was all kinds of adorable: 100% Silk with lace inserts. Look how happy I am! I wiggled my bottom like a child.

More and more I began to feel like a slutty cheerleader from a 1987 teen movie. A really bitchy and periphiral one.




People bitch about New Look's trashy vest tops but this one was a soft cotton blend and very long. I enjoyed it way more than I had envisioned.

Go 1987! Woo! Yay! Etc!

If the Gods of Finance were on my side, I would have totally purchased this outfit. Verily, it put hustle in my bustle.


Please concentrate on my sultriness and not on the debris the teenagers before me left in the corner.


Accessories
Nautical Rope Heels
Bit of a cliche this season but I still enjoy the rope feature and giant golden buckle. I was also plesed that the heels didn't instantly cripple my high arches the way most high street shoes do. That said, if they weren't carrying the mild Giles Deacon-ish prestige, I doubt I'd enjoy them much at all - I'm not a fan of stitch embellishments and the heel isn't high enough (it's about 3 inches) to generate the nerdy 'fierce' factor.


Wow -- only one shoe. Wigmore & FabFrocks brings you nothing but the deepest class. You wouldn't believe the amount of black changing room filth I had to Photoshop off my feet.
Jesus wept.

Neon Flats

Bit grim, innit? There's nothing special about these flats except for the colour which, in person,
is bright enough to sting my mother's eyes. The clear PVC rim is a fine showcase for my sweat condensation but little else. Yeuch. Too grimey cheap even for my taste.


Wow. I'm at a loss, even with a heapin' bag of irony at my disposal.

If Giles was doing some kind of multi-accessory transparent Mr. T tribute thing then at least I could understand it. But no. It's just that key. That heavy plastic key. I don't know. I just don't know.

Woo. Not a note to end on. That's depressing on a Joss Whedon level. Let's cheer ourselves up with a bit of rip-off chic:



Whew. Neon green is such balm to the troubled soul. In conclusion, the collection is patchy and much less cohesive than the previous 2 efforts. Still, at heart I am a John Waters trash maven and so some pieces (the bitchy cheerleader ones) really did speak to me.

Speaking of which, if we fattened and ugg'd up Agyness, wouldn't she make the best John Waters character with that bleached hair, black eyebrows and cheap Giles getup?


Divine et al in Pink Flamingos




Cast of Cry Baby

Hey Deyn, eat some pies and call my people. We'll talk.

Love,
Becky.