One Of My Favorite Blogs

After 6 years of blogging, I decided to write up some of my all time favorite blogs. Blogs so unique and different, so outstanding that they humble me with their creativity.

I love fashion. I have since the moment my mother bought me my first fur hat when I was 16. And lied to my father about it.

Tavi Gevinson started blogging when she was 11 (WHAT?) and was invited to New York Fashion Week when she was only 13. (YOU'RE KILLING ME LARRY) She was partly the inspiration for a Rodarte clothing line for Target and if you know Rodarte, those sisters know fashion. In September 2010 Gevinson was named a "Vogueista" by Vogue Italia. I'm guessing that's a pretty good deal when you're 14 years old. At 14 I appeared in my 9th grade talent show, where I wrote, starred in and directed a skit based entirely around toilet paper.

Vogue Italia did not attend.

Tavi was clearly born in the wrong decade as she regularly channels Brigitte Bardot from the 50's and hippies from the 60's, like in this picture above.

She's got a website for teenagers, named Rookie, after her blog, Style Rookie. Some days she deconstructs movies like The Virgin Suicides or Bye Bye Birdie on her blog via photos and her massive collection of odd items and clothing, carefully curated from thrift stores. There are often special appearances from her incredibly artistic friends like Petra, who took this picture.

One day this year I sent Tavi some pictures of pillowcases from the designer Oleg Cassini, who famously dressed Jacqueline Kennedy while she was in the White House. The linens belong to my mother but I hijacked them after my parents divorced. The cotton is so soft it makes me weep for when quality was king, not profit. They're from the 1960's and have colors in them you don't see on sheets these days. I was surprised to hear back from Tavi, a lovely, polite email thanking me for thinking of her and sending along the photos.

Those blues and oranges pull at the strings of my artistic heart. And brown!! When it was called brown!! And not chocolate.

I miss brown.

The Girl With No Forehead Hair

Mom was going through her files and found a large one filled with letters from me. She kept the letters but mailed me the things she found inside them. I'm fairly certain I enclosed a hundred dollar bill in each of the 240,000 letters I sent her over a lifetime but she begs to differ.

I have no idea when I sent her this but she was in Paris at the time and I was living in Washington D.C. I was in the experimental stages of figuring out how to spell my name as you can see from the SUSY. I wonder if I sent her any 4 leaf clovers that said, "FROM THE NEIGHBOR'S YARD ACROSS THE STREET, THE ONES WE DON'T LIKE. Picked by Susie!"



This photo landed me in the office of a big commercial agent in New York. I walked in and the first thing he said was "Oh dear."

I can still feel my heart sink to my stomach from that day.

"Your picture led me to believe that you'd be a perfect character actress and I was so excited because I knew you'd get lots of work. However, in person, you're not funny looking at all. You're actually too pretty to be a character actress but YOU'RE NOT PRETTY ENOUGH TO BE THE STAR."

You know how some critiques stick in your head forever?

I have no idea where this picture was taken. I'm wearing a long black leather coat that my sister bought me in Istanbul, Turkey. I also have no other pictures that would give me a clue so...welcome to Long Coat Black Leather Suzy.


This is one of the only pictures of me where I don't have bangs. Again, NO IDEA where it was taken or where I was at the time. I want to say it was taken in Paris because after I left San Francisco I showed up in Paris with a very short hairdo. So this might have been the growing out phase?

That pin on my right lapel, a little diamonique star, left as you're looking at the photo, was given to me by the heroin addict that was my boyfriend in San Francisco. I didn't know that he'd stolen it from his mother until I wore it to her house one day and she informed me it was hers. I immediately removed it and offered it back to her but she wouldn't accept it. I told her that her son had given me other pieces and described them and they were all hers. Her son was such a troubled person that I believe she was just happy he had someone in his life who loved him. I still have the pin, and the other pieces, all from the 1940's.

Many years later he went to prison.

Looking back at pictures, the first thing I do is assess my hair. Long Coat Black Leather Suzy hadn't started bleaching her hair yet so the ash blond looks dark and goes with my coat. The Oh Dear Suzy had curled her stick straight uncurlable hair and the result was that both sides looked so different that the photographer suggested I put one side up so that it wouldn't be so obvious. Meanwhile, back at Obvious Ranch, it's SO OBVIOUS.

Forehead Free Suzy doesn't even look like me. When it first tumbled out of the envelope I wondered who it was. I see my Russian grandfather in that photo and later pictures of my mother, but to me it looks like someone else. Someone who could be the star of the show IF SHE DAMN WELL PLEASED.

May We All Dress This Fabulously When We're Older

UPDATE: The lady in the red and black dress with matching red and black hat, Zelda Kaplan, died yesterday. She was 95. We should all look so good when we go...

I'm crazy mad for this film. Courtesy of Advanced Style.

http://www.youtube.com/embed/nWKTfqivbRQ

"I'm between 50 and death."

"Up until 80 you lie, after 80 you brag."

How Cool Are These Shoes?

How badly do you want to paint the soles of these shoes and pace back and forth in front of The White House?

Picture courtesy of Advanced Style.

I've Either Got My Mouth Open Or My Eyes Shut

This is my Dad's mother and me at their home in Illinois. My grandmother was probably thinking "Doesn't this child ever shut up?" 

And no, I never shut up.



As you can see I was made for a life in show business because when the camera is on me, I close my eyes. I love this picture of me and my Dad because it shows I was a fashionista even when I was a little girl.

The Apartment I Shared With Mick Jagger

While packing up my current apartment I came across a picture that reminded me of my first apartment.

I was desperate and crashing with my friend Henry, who lived in Berkeley. He woke up one night and found me sitting at a desk naked, playing solitaire. The actual solitaire, with playing cards. I'd forgotten he lived there. So he drove me into San Francisco and I found a place on Ellis Street, below Polk.

The apartment was a furnished studio, on the ground floor. $110. a month. A stone cold drunk lived on one side of me and often knocked on my door in the middle of the night so he could crawl through one of my windows out to the fire escape and into his own apartment. Upstairs were a bunch of transvestites who used to push Seconals under my door so I could sleep at night.

I had this giant poster of Mick Jagger on my wall.  My friend Albert, a guy I went to school with in Paris and also a friend of Henry's, was visiting the States one year and took this picture. I used to keep the photo in a frame and every single person who saw it thought it was really me talking to Mick. The fact that he's on a stage singing and I'm standing in front of hanging beads didn't register with anyone. Also? That whole two dimensional thing.
I remember my shirt. It was black and had tiny red and black sparkles on it. I'm loaded down with all my Indian jewelry and wearing a hand-tooled belt I bought in Corsica.

Now I can't fit into that belt unless I wear it as a thigh tourniquet. Which could totally happen if someone happened to sever my femoral artery by accident and the belt was lying nearby.

This was the apartment I left after I found the heroin addict in bed with my gay hairdresser Eugene.

I abandoned my Calvin Klein sheets and the forest green hanging beads. And Mick Jagger.

The landlord was upset I was leaving. He offered to lower my rent to $100 because he said I was the best tenant he'd ever had.

I'm pretty sure I was, too.

My Mother Still Talks To Me Like This

As I pack furiously, I pick through the millions of memories lining the walls and cabinets of this apartment. I've stopped to re-read some journals, a habit I picked up last summer. Inside each one is a lost treasure from my past. Faded, pressed roses from a Dominican boy named Frankie who I was absolutely nuts about, snapshots that I hadn't deemed worthy of a photo album, business cards, invites to weddings and parties. A ticket stub to see Raquel Welch in concert.

All rammed inside pages and pages of the torment that is a journal. It took me years to figure out that the reason all my journals read like Dostoevsky was because I never wrote in them when I was happy.

One of the treasures I found was this typewritten letter to my father. It's faded and yellowed and after folding and unfolding, it's ripped across the middle. I discovered it in my father's belongings after he died. He'd kept every letter, every card that both my sister and I sent him over the years. This one jumped out at me and I brought it home 10 years ago and stuffed it in an old journal from the time I moved to Paris. I had left San Francisco after a very failed love affair with a man who turned out to be a heroin addict and who I found spooning in bed with my gay male hairdresser slash good friend Eugene.

This is a letter I wrote my father soon after I arrived.
This excerpt sums up the relationship I've had with my mother my entire life.

 ("...living with mom is just not possible. from the moment i arrived she has found things wrong with me. my eyebrows are too thin, i am too thin, i use too much toilet paper...")

Yes, I know that's funny. Thanks for enjoying my pain.

Here's a photo from the cruise to the Bahamas that my Dad took me on when I left San Francisco, to get my mind off the Being Dumped By A Heroin Addict Who's Really Gay thing. I arrived in Paris looking like this. Minus the cruise ship.

I was anorexic. On my right arm is a silver bracelet that I wore over my elbow. For those of you unfamiliar with bracelet etiquette, below the elbow is where most people wear them. 

And look, I'm smoking a cigarette!! Marlboros, in the red box. 

I would kill to still have those sunglasses. KILL KILL KILL. The purse is an old lady cloth one that I found in a thrift store. It's hilarious that after all these years my shopping habits haven't changed a bit. I still covet the things that others have tossed aside. The Greek cross around my neck was lent to my sister, who gave it to one of her boyfriends. She had brought it back from a trip to Mykonos, Greece and gave it to me as a gift. Years later, as an act of contrition, she got me another one on a trip to Cabo, but it was all shiny and silver and small AND NOT FROM GREECE.

Girls are dumb.

I still use too much toilet paper.

End of chat.

Ex-Boyfriends And Small Dogs Are Both Mental

This picture was taken back in the early 80's, here in California. I had been invited to an ex-boyfriend's house to meet his new girlfriend because men actually think that's something their ex-girlfriends want to do.

And I did.

A chance to judge, to mock, to talk about it later with anyone I could get on the phone, are you kidding me? WHEN DO WE LEAVE?

I was in town from New York and had my dog Kiko with me. My ex had always preferred the dog to me so what else is new.

Kiko loved anything that was as small as he was and breathed. He almost lost his eyes millions of times because he could not resist a cat. Even when they hissed at him, bared their teeth and lifted a paw to strike, Kiko would just look at me plaintively. He was like that kid at the park who can't find anyone to play with.

So we're at the ex's and someone had a baby with them. A tiny, breathing baby. So naturally Kiko went over to say hello.

I interrupt this broadcast for breaking 80's fashion news.

See the inset below of my sister's foot in those white shoes? (The actual picture is the last one in this post) Those sandals were from Giorgio of Beverly Hills. At the time they cost $198, which means they would cost about $895 today. I was with Lindy when she bought them, days before the visit with my ex, and Giorgio's, like many great boutiques, served champagne to their customers as they shopped. Alcohol and shopping go really well together. As do bankruptcy and a low FICO score.I remembered that Lindy had eventually grown tired of the shoes and given them to me. She also did this with an actor named Jack Scalia. As you can see, he was much cuter than the shoes.

It's hard to visualize but those little oval things popping up from the shoe were gold leaves. I emailed Lindy the pictures and asked her if she remembered the shoes. This is what she wrote back:

Of course I remember those shoes!!!! I just forgot that I had given them to you. You're right- they were from Giorgio's because in those days I only shopped in Beverly Hills, had a maid, had facials every ten seconds and full-served my gas tank! Those WERE the days. Did I mention that I had membership to about 1700 gyms and did Karen Voight's class every day which cost more that gym membership anywhere in L.A. in those days?

I only started saving $ when I realized that I wasn't going to live forever.

This is the difference between us. I'm not going to live forever so I double-up on my shopping. This might explain why my sister is richer than I am. But I'll be better dressed in the casket. Stop groaning, you know you were thinking the same thing.

Anyway, end of fashion news, back to the baby and Kiko. The baby, like a cat, was not amused by my dog and started pounding on his head. Babies are mean.

Third Wednesday Shoe Giveaway!

First of all, I'm the Funny Not Slutty of the week. Because I talk about all the plastic surgery I've had. What other blogger is stupid brave enough to do that?

While you're over there snickering about my former face, join their network of women in comedy.

This week I'm giving away a pair of Steve Madden patent leather lime green slip-ons. There's a zipper across the top because I'm a big fan of zippers.
See? Acrylic Zipper-Encased black bracelet, Target $12.95. (Why don't they open a Target in my apartment?) I love Steve Madden shoes** and although I only wore these two or three times, I especially loved them as I like things that are different. I don't like to blend in. I use Beige as a swear word.

Leave a comment saying you want the shoes, along with your email, no links please. Or you can find my email under my profile on the sidebar and send me your email. How many more times can I work the word email into this paragraph? Apparently one more time.

On top of not being able to wear my 4 inch heels, I can't wear any heel that is too thin. I have my ankle surgery to blame for all this and it's not a big problem and I hate to even complain about something so small but if I wasn't whining and bitching, you wouldn't even be reading this blog.

Admit it, you know that's true.

You have until 6 pm Thursday July 8th to enter. I'll use a randomizer to choose the winner and announce it a few minutes after 6. You have one week to claim your prize. Good luck!

End of chat.

**(The marks you see on the inside of the right shoe are just the camera.)

Second Pair Of Shoes Giveaway!

Free to a good home!

I have an identical pair of Westies in camel with a wooden heel, 8M. I think I may have worn them twice, probably once, as the sole is lightly scuffed but the rest of the shoe is pristine. The instep of the left one appears dirty but it's not. It looks that way because I suck at taking color pictures.

Same deal as before. Leave a comment and MENTION you want the shoes. The contest is open until 6 pm Thursday.

Leave your email in the comments if you don't know how to enable it in your blog platform. If there's no email you can't be entered as I'm not going to chase you down on your blog. I'm lazy, remember?

Check back on Thursday after 6 for the winner. You have one week to claim your prize.

And The Winner Of The First Wednesday Shoe Giveaway Is

You read that title right. The first winner. I've decided to give away shoes for the next three Wednesdays. I'm not going to wear them and I'm tired of seeing them languish in the closet eating me out of house and home.

Which p.s. is one of the most ridiculous sayings in the English language. Aren't house and home the same thing? Or how about Niecy Nash saying "Hand over foot" on Clean House when the expression is "Hand over fist?" Or how about the ridiculous Butt Naked instead of the actual phrase, Buck Naked? I know, I know, shut up and deal.

And yes, I watch Clean House. Now you shut up and deal.

There were a total of 16 entries, out of 27 comments total, for the black and white Westies.

I listed them in the order in which they were left. Then I set up a randomizer and the lucky winner is number 9, Amberdawn! (Send me your snail mail; my email is in my profile. Also? I really want to call you Deltadawn and dear God in heaven I hope you're old enough to get that reference)

But there are 3 more Wednesdays of free shoes during which time the shipping and handling will probably wipe me out but don't worry your pretty little heads about that since I AM RICH. (Affirmation of the day)

And if you win a pair, you cannot enter again because I'm a big fat meanie.

I've always believed that the more you give, the better you feel. So if you're in a position to give, please do. Take those shoes and turn them into a thousand pairs of shoes. Start a school in Africa to teach deserving shoes that can't afford a decent education. Send those shoes to BP with a note: Kick your own fucking asses, morons.

Your friend,

Oprah Winfrey

A Shoe Giveaway! UPDATED

I forgot to make a cutoff time/date for the shoes. My body's up but my brain has remained in bed. ANYWAY, I'll cut it off at 6pm Thursday June 24th.

Right before my ankle surgery I bought these shoes. I didn't know I needed the surgery or I wouldn't have bought them. They're black and white with a silver circle on the thicker strap.

They're made by Westies, size 8M and I have no idea why the picture below looks so weird.

They have a 4 inch heel and as you can see, they've never been worn. Thanks ankle!

I'm giving them away. If you want them, leave me a comment telling me you want them. If you leave a comment that doesn't mention that you WANT the shoes I will assume you don't want them.

I will have one of those randomizer things pick the winner (assuming there's more than 2 requests) but it's only fair to tell you I have no idea how that randomizer works or where to get one or why I even bother to get up in the morning.

Already this giveaway is more complicated than I planned. You have one week to claim your prize!

End of chat.

Well This Is Embarrassing

Remember when I posted those pictures of my jewelry drawers? Sitting right above those drawers was this, my pearl collection from my many productive years of deep sea diving.

This tableau sits above those drawers and I forgot to take a picture of it because I forgot about them.

This reminds me of the months after my ankle surgery back in 2008. I didn't put on underwear because it wouldn't go over my huge cast. So I went commando for months. Then when I finally did go back to wearing thongs I forgot I had one on and peed through it.

And for those who are curious, I did not find the Titanic in any of my dives.

A mind is a terrible thing to waste. Trust me; I know.

I Have No Reason To Buy More Jewelry

Ever.

Seriously, ever.

I'm not kidding. No reason.

At all. None.

Maybe just these two rings.

I need help.

When I'm 88

If I was a millionaire, and oh GOD I'm sooooooooo close, I would buy homes and decorate them all day and then fly to Milan and Paris every weekend to shop for clothes. Some lucky billionaire out there is missing an opportunity of a lifetime to have his fortune wiped out because HE HASN'T MET ME YET.

When I'm 88, as is Iris Apfel, below, I hope to God I throw caution to the closets and end up half as fashionable. This is the woman who launched one of the most persistent fashion trends of this century. Keep reading.

In the 1940s, a young girl named Iris hounded the owner of a Wisconsin Army & Navy store until he finally ordered her a pair of boy-sized denims. Her intent was to wear them with a turban and large hoop earrings. Such was an early milestone in the career of a fashion visionary and muse who quite possibly launched a trend in women’s fashion — jeans — that now represents a 10 billion dollar industry yearly in the U.S. alone.

With a personal style the New York Times described as 'controlled flamboyance,' (when I first read this I thought it said 'flatulence' and I was impressed) this New York society figure and co-founder of the legendary textile design company, Old World Weavers, has traveled the world inspiring fashion designers such as Ralph Rucci, Jason Wu and Isaac Mizrahi. She recently appeared at the top of Vanity Fair’s international best-dressed list and is featured in print ads for Coach.

Elements of Style According to Iris Apfel:

1. Never take yourself or an outfit too seriously.
2. Visit the animal kingdom.
3. Consider the clergy.
4. Travel widely.
5. Go high and low.
6. Don’t fret about your age.
7. Don’t be afraid to stop traffic.

Cirque Du Shoeleil # 5

Shocking, another pair of Steve Maddens in lime green patent leather with a zipper across the top. I guess in case you need more air when you're walking in slingbacks.

These are a pair of Italian Belos, which are made out of lambskin and are buttery soft to the touch.

And to Tommy James, who thinks I've alienated my all male readers with my shoes, then Tommy my friend, you know nothing about blogs. If I had a list of all the retarded Favs that people post on their blogs, the list would wrap around the Universe 50 zillion times. Toys, games, hand-knit socks, flowers, puppets, kid's toys, kid's pictures, animals in Christmas costumes (!), spoon collections, sex paraphernalia, homemade birthday cakes, trees in bloom, long country roads, cakes that went awry, build-a-bears and last but not least memes, then you would do what you do at your house, change the channel. And while we're at it, for God's sakes, update your site once a year. So I can make fun of it more.

End of Shoes Du Soleil.

Steve Madden Shoes Steve Madden

Cirque Du Shoeleil # 4

These are yet another pair of Steve Maddens, in black and white tweed. The last time I wore them was at the Because We're Not Dead Yet Party last April. I was in so much pain by the end of the evening that I took them off and walked around in my black stockings, which tore and ran and basically made me look like a homeless woman. That was the last time I ever wore heels. Sob.
I liked these boots because I knew no one would wear them but me, which is how I buy most of accessories. I remember the last time I wore them I was in line waiting to vote for some initiatives or something, maybe to legalize prostitution?

End of chat.

Steve Madden Shoes Steve Madden

Cirque Du Shoeleil # 3

These Ann Kleins are some of my favs. I used to wear them with some Armani Exchange pants that buttoned up the back leg, a Juicy Couture scarf, and a mid-leg camel coat. I was wearing all of that plus an angora hat when I picked up my mother at LAX one time. As I bent to kiss her she jumped back."Mom?"
"Oh my God, it's you? I thought you were a model!"

First off, what models does she know? And second off, that was the best compliment I ever got from her in my entire life and it wasn't even really intended for me. Because, you know, she didn't think it was me. Because of her raging narcissism she never mentioned that outfit again but did repeat year after year how fabulously dressed the Air France flight attendants thought she was.

End of chat.

Cirque Du Shoeleil # 2

These are my favorite jean boots. They're made out of starched denim and you can see the ridges near the tops where I've worn them so much that they've developed permanent indentations. The design is made out of very tiny silver beads. I bought them over 4 years ago, long before people were wearing wedges and I got a lot of weird looks when I used to wear them. Passive-aggressive compliments like "Wow, those boots are really interrrresting." Believe it or not they're super comfortable. I know they look purplish-bluish in the picture but they're denim blue.

A pair of Steve Madden cheetah ponies with a 2" heel. I love pony fur, I think I have four pair of them. I've lost count of how many Steve Maddens I own.
End of chat.

Steve Madden Shoes Steve Madden

Cirque Du Shoeleil # 1

Men never understand why women need so many pairs of shoes. Shoes are to us what football is to them. Guys can watch three games back to back or four games on two screens and there's no point in trying to explain it to us. Men love football. We love shoes. So if you're unlucky enough to be trapped with a guy who says "You have enough shoes" try responding with "Well, then you've watched enough football." I've shut up two men with that line.

All this week I'm posting pictures of the shoes from my Cirque du Shoeleil™ collection. They're the ones I've missed the most while my ankle has been disintegrating. All of the circus toys pictured belonged to my dad when he was a boy.

This is a pair of Steve Maddens. They're grey suede with black leather. The cut-out on the top near the toe is a heart and it's surrounded by little silver beads, also found all over the black leather part of the shoe.

These are a pair of bebe's which are a little whorish. Not surprisingly, men really love them. Especially if I wear them while they're watching football.

End of chat.

Steve Madden Shoes Steve Madden