the tale of millicent mole, mademoiselle c and more.

darlings

the thing with having-been-ill-previously is that one is Always sort of looking sideways (in an attractive way, not cross-eyed) or behind one (and not in a swively head way – metaphorically speaking) to see if There is Something Else on the Horizon.

of course the Plus Side – and there is one – is that one is also Terribly Grateful for one’s Good Health at this very moment.

but when one is shown into yet another room in drab beige decor and told to “put this on and tie it up at the back” one does a Little Sigh.

af8ff0d0246e11e3a28422000a1f8f08_7we didn’t like to ask what That contraption was for – thank goodness it wasn’t used on who-we-are-in-RL – she doesn’t like things like that.

what she does like are silver sparkly shoes.

a762afe0246b11e3a45b22000a9e06cb_7

so we persuaded her to wear them to the hospital and the other people in the waiting room Enjoyed them too and gave her a little smile which is Rather reassuring in times of stress.

why were we there?

Millicent Mole(s).

due to the fair skin and irish parentage of who-we-are-in-RL (and the fact that during the 70s one didn’t know about sunscreen for children *looktocamera*) Several (actually FIVE) Millicent Mole(s) have been removed in years gone past (1998, 2004 and 2012 if you’d like to know – in three cities which is actually terribly glamorous – London, Los Angeles and Manhattan).

luckily none of them had “C” powers when examined on a white (was it white?) Slab in the Lab.

the lady doctor (so Modern, as William would say) looked all over us with a contraption that appeared to have a green neon light emitting diode with a very highly concentrated magnifying glass – it was ever so much fun (and no, we didn’t giggle, we were very pleasant and stayed quiet until it was all over).

but we did notice that we felt a little lost afterwards while waiting for the Verdict.

“we’ll monitor That One”

“right-o”

and that was it, for now.

and we left and went back to enjoying memories of the walk yesterday in Beverly Hills.

what’s that?

oh yes.

there were Roses and sunlight kisses on stone and ironwork gates and a tinkling fountain and celebrities behind closed doors reading scurrilous Jackie Collins novels and trying to work out if Mr. X was their agent or their manager or god forbid, their ex-husband.

or so we i m a g i n e.

one never (quite) knows.

although we have been inside some of these Beverly Hills mansions but they keep the Jackie Collins with the pages turned down in a secret drawer upstairs in the boudoir.

02ed8de423ea11e39ac422000ab69bcc_77500b14823ec11e3b08f22000aeb410c_77130fe5e23ee11e3a9ad22000a1fb3f4_77a75007823e911e392eb22000a1fbd89_7

*sighs*

isn’t it beautiful here?

can we share something with you?

it’s not necessarily personal – we’re just sort of shy to do so –

you’re most kind.

thank you.

well.

here’s the thing.

we were SO LOOKING FORWARD TO THIS MOVIE:

Carine-Roitfeld-Mademoiselle-C-Posterif you’re not familiar with the lady in question (you need to say “question” in a french/russian accent to be absolutely correct here) – Carine Roitfeld is Editor of CR and was the grande dame at Paris Vogue prior to setting out her own shingle.

what could go wrong with a documentary like this? Fashion! Beautiful People! Tom Ford! Paris! Milan! Magazines! Photographers! Models!

well.

(pauses)

and we say this with love (considering the last day job).

Putting out a magazine is only drama for those putting out the magazine.

it does *not* a documentary make.

and also, there’s nothing clever about attempting to show the reality of what-it-is-like-in-fashion.

people don’t want reality.

diana-vreeland-6

they want the aching pulsating dream of sensuous nights in bronze skin with a silk sheet somewhere naughty in morocco with a photographer arriving on the morning plane, the models in some discotheque down by the beach messing up their hair, the production manager’s gone AWOL and the Editor has collapsed in her room in floods of tears and has to be sedated by the local doctor.

glamour, love.

that’s what they want.

and everything delicious well-lit – not Cinéma vérité, darlings. 

no. no. no. no. no. and thrice no.

you know the one person who understood this perfectly throughout the Entire Documentary, don’t you?

yes.

Karl.

now he was magnificent.

6a00d8341c301153ef01156fc3a413970c-450wiin a slightly dark and sinister way.

which is perfect.

the Ozwald Boateng screening.

the day started beautifully – some light reading, taking notes and some ideas for book number 2 (oh yes, we have Lots of Ideas and, Rather excitingly, our contract with the Publisher – blush – has an Option for Book 2 so we thought we’d go ahead and write one).

we then spent time with our Correspondence – thank you letters, introductions and “We’d love to meet as we have an opinion on your – insert here – and would love to help, if we can, before we Move to L.A” type. And yes, we’ve become Quite Obsessed by the new stamps and ink pad (this is the car we drive, in our head).

en route to doing something Rather Important, we stopped and drank a skim latte and admired the crisp Fall (and freezing) sky.

it’s good to have a moment to pause and smile, don’t you think?

at Salon Musa we enjoyed the company of the Very Talented staff (who are all defiantly chic and slim and Japanese and all wearing what-looks-like-Rick-Owens-leather-ensembles).

and then carried on into town to a screening (we adore a screening).

before we tell you about the screening, we’ll just finish up with the photographs while we remember….

there was a chandelier (#weadoreachandelier) at one Place of Business (and art)

and a long conversation about our latest device (the Galaxy Note, in case you’re curious and yes, we love it – we had many a Palm reverie from 1998 PDA-life, actually) over egg roll at a chinese place in the Village.

so – back to the screening.

Ozwald Boateng is interviewed by the (esteemed) BBC here.

and he makes some very good points.

our take on the documentary is this – the scope of a man’s life cannot be summed up in a good headline (although god knows we’ve tried).

Ozwald’s life (the past twelve years of it – while he was being filmed) has been yes, full of drama (and unbearable heartache) and some extraordinary Success and some dastardly bad fortune – not necessarily in that order. It is unclear whether the documentary is meant to give us more of a philosophical view of Success/Failure Love/Disaster Career/Family (we feel sure that it was Someone Clever in Marketing who came up with the “every dream has a price” because it’s not true – one isn’t given gifts just to wait for the sky to fall – but hey, we weren’t trying to see a documentary at Cannes this year either, and they were).

Is anyone’s life a parable, an allegory, a Tale of Some Import?

No.

It’s a Life.

And Ozwald has done some rather Splendid things with it, especially in Africa (and good god, his SUITS are divine – the colours/colors/shades, the CUTTING, the line, the view of masculinity – the wanting to dress Men like Men, not like children – ahem – his view of Americans, not ours, darlings).

But back to Africa.

Do see the documentary if it comes to a Netflix near you. For a couple of reasons. One is the fashion shows (especially, oh – wow – YES – Givenchy in Paris and the promo shot in CHINA).

but mostly to see how Ozwald – flawed and beautiful – like a caged lion – pacing and preening and Trying to Change Things – gets the great and the good of African American Men in Hollywood (a press conference that makes one sit up and weep) and makes a difference in Ghana.

the moment where he stands inside the holding cell where slaves waited before going through the doors and onto the ships to god-knows-where they did not know what Fate would bring – he stands there – his beautiful head bowed from his great height of 6ft 4 – and is completely still.

the whole documentary is worth it for this (and the bit in CHINA and the fashion show in Paris).

but mostly that bit.

that bit we will take to our grave.

a wonderful day.

and there was a chandelier.

it couldn’t get much better.

but we know it just will – isn’t that delicious?

 

bill blass – the clothes, the mordant wit, the genius for life (and decor)

good morning, darlings

did you sleep well?

was it warm enough? did you see the other continental quilt/soft_blanket/textiles-inspired-by-Sissinghurst in the wardrobe/closet/receptacle?

coffee?

milk, sugar, cream – a side of salted caramels?

chef is making pancakes – do you do syrup or are we strictly half-a-grapefruit today, love?

we’d be the Loveliest host if you were visiting.

once we had a house (actually a 4 bedroom apartment in the airy upper floors of a Very Tall building in London – my, how times have changed……) where there was a study for us each and a spare room and Many people came to stay (there were two bathrooms – both startlingly 1960s still in decor and blindingly white but with Lovely accessories from the bathing department at somewhere chic like Liberty of London, we believe).

 

we did enjoy breakfasts with guests on the small terrace with Treated (england – damp – rain) Outdoor furniture from somewhere like Heals (since 1810) or a Conran contraption in sturdy teak with fine lines that was built for a Tall man (which we’re Not) and so we could happily curl into its strong back and pull our knees up to our chin and balance a coffee cup on top while still looking at the View and dreaming of a future in America – where, of course, we write to you from Now – isn’t that GLORIAous?.

in our hostess duties (which often we were just too overwrought to do very well – we were, after all, Young and Inexperienced) we were very much inspired by Bill Blass.

yes.

who better, darlings?

 

terribly arch and-witty.

 

 

achingly Chic.

Oh! darlings – couldn’t you imagine walking through his house in Connecticut with a handful of raw cashews, a grenadine with fizzy Italian water and picking up a book about architecture in the late 18th century and spending an entire afternoon with Bill on the soft smooth chaise, gossiping wildly about Goings On on the Upper East Side?

the urbane genius –

(sadly we Never met him before he passed through the veil that separates this world from the next but sometimes we are Sure he finds a spare terminal in the celestial lending library and logs on, late at night, and might Occasionally type our address just to shake his head and have a small deep chuckle at our sheer nerve at talking about him)

so powerfully There in his stance – and aren’t those models Magnificent?

but the greatest thing about Bill Blass – for us – is the book he left – for it is the words and ideas and amusements and poignancy (heavily hidden behind a take it or leave-it attitude from the no nonsense Indiana upbringing) of a man who got sick and finally decided to look at his legacy – what he believed (or didn’t) – how he got where he was, by then, and what It All Was For (if anything).

of course we identify (the you-know-what experience) but it such a Moving Book (and very funny and sometimes quite almost snort-through-the-nose naughty revelations about Some People) and beautifully co-written with the fabulous fashion empress Cathy Horyn who – today – writes tweets-like-haiku – So Modern (as William would say)

 

 

so – in no particular order (as they lie on TV because Everyone knows that’s the First thing you ask for in a Contract – Above the Title or first-on-the-stiff-paper-card at the Academy Awards, love) – our moments-of-Blass:

In this stiff-upper-lip wholesomeness there was surely somewhere a budding genius for avoiding anything unpleasant or ugly (what else am I to make of a drawing I did at the age of six showing a butler serving drinks in a Manhattan penthouse, other than, perhaps, an advanced knowledge of where the better customers lodged?)
Bare Blass P. 3

have you EVER seen anyone wear a denim jacket (or is that moleskine or finely woven cord?) so insouciantly? genius.

Needless to say, I’ve had a lot of time to think about the people in my life and the people who are no longer here. My father, of course. And my reach has widened. This has been the strange, unexpected blessing of a disease that would have killed me if I had not, for once, let my friends into my life. It has made me more open.
Bare Blass P. 15

I’m often asked how I got to know so many people, especially when I was first coming along in the early fifties and didn’t have any social connections to speak of. The answer was simple: I was interested in what they had to say.
Bare Blass P. 50

back to this ad again for a second for some deeper background information (well, deeper is a relative word, we gave absolutely none before, darlings ;-)

this ad was written by the GREAT Jane Trahey (whom we shall we covering shortly as we simply adore her mordant wit and genius too) to highlight the awful practice of copying.

here is her full text:

They can’t knock off Bill Blass.
Seventh Avenue gets away with murder. Somebody creates a hot design and bang, before he even gets it in the stores they knock it off. That’s why Bill Blass got himself some protection. The protection of exclusive fabrics nobody else can have. Of subtle nuances or cut, of shaping and draping. Of thousands of details so tiny nobody but Bill Blass even knows they’re there. Next time you want something knockout that won’t be knocked off, get yourself some protection. Invest in Bill Blass.

her use of words and phrasing and meaning is just divine, isn’t it? so inspiring.

and the way she set up Her Own Agency – sigh – a dream – one of white walls, swingy chairs, a hot pink background to some huge print (perhaps a Norman Parkinson 1950 or a Swinging London shot later on – but no later than 1967) –

so sorry – we digress – again.

Bill Blass.

ok.

more quotes?

are you enjoying this?

we are.

One day I was in my boutique in Bonwit’s and I saw this black lady in her cloth coat and worn shoes. She looked like somebody’s cook. Not a salesman would wait on her. All these grand fags and they were all fussing over whatever celebrities were there. So I went over to the lady and I said, “Miss Fitzgerald, can I help you?” She said, “Yeah, I’m closing tonight at the Waldorf and I want twenty six blazers, twenty-six pairs of pants, twenty-six shirts, and twenty-six ties. Do you think you can get someone to help me?” I said, “I think I can,” and I went over to one of the salesmen. I said, “Get your ass over there, you son of a bitch. That’s Ella Fitzgerald and she’ll give you the biggest order you’ve had all week.” She wanted the clothes as gifts for the guys in her orchestra, but nobody knew who she was.

some stronger language than we Usually allow in teamgloria but Oh! isn’t he Splendid the way he Sorts it All Out?

we admire that.

PAT BUCKLEY: Bill and I had a thing that we would do two or three times a year. It took the planning of D-Day. We’d see five movies a day. We’d start out at nine o’clock in the morning to catch the ten o’clock show. Very often we’d catch lunch from an umbrella cart on the corner. Then we’d drag ourselves home around midnight. It was so much fun and we’d laugh ourselves sick.

isn’t that utterly delicious?

hmmm.

we’ve done three (maybe four during jet lag/sleeplessness when we popped on a DVD in the early hours) movies in a day……..might be time, soon, to try a Ms. Buckley and Mr. Bass day-out. divine.

which umbrella cart did they get their hot dogs from?

and was it safer to eat a cart-bought-hot-dog in 1979?

probably.

it always looked so Possible in Woody Allen movies.

Back to Blass – he is most generous in the book with witty asides – like this one:

Mention of Truman brings to mind the late and hilarious Patrick O’Higgins, a half-French, half-Irish journalist who was secretary to Helena Rubenstein. He was working on a book about her life when Truman came out with In Cold Blood. Patrick wanted to call her book In Cold Cream. Miss Rubenstein was not amused. But I’d hate for it to get away.
Bare Blass P.110

another naughty insider moment?

bien sur, cheri.

In 1975, I went to China at the invitation of the Chinese government. Halston had been their first choice. But when the Chinese emissaries came to see him in New York, he kept his dark glasses on. I guess that was considered very bad manners, and a very bad omen. They thought Halston was the devil. So they said, “He won’t do.” I was next on the list.
Bare Blass P.119

we feel an illustrative shot here might help give texture to the anecdote and we found this great shot (isn’t the interweb a helpful place?)

 

WAIT!

go back to the search results a moment darlings……

LOOK!

there – the clearly-Instagram-ed-shot bottom left (near the Plaza) – that’s from teamgloria!

that’s the first time that’s happened – blimey.

seen-by-google (without doing any Dark Art of the SEO consultancy-ness – how amusing.)

gosh.

the post was from January 19, 2012: and it is called “7.50AM: talk of Courrèges and dreaming of Halston.”

yes.

we can see why Google liked it.

that was a Very special morning.

and we do believe we talked about Bill Blass during that breakfast because the esteemed personage who had taken us to drink coffee and chat was a Fashion Executive from years-gone-by who had known Blass.

hmmm.

you see – there are no coincidences if one lives a big and glorious life.

it does appear to be some sort of cosmic celestial and Rather amusingly splendid pattern emerging.

this (very early example of our collage – pre-decoupage-days) notebook (Nancy Mitford probably shuddered at the word notebook but it was indeed a book-for-recording-notes) is a pre-teamgloria-workbook where we were trying to Sort Out Our Head and inventory ideas and what-went-wrong and how we’d like to Live in the future.

The Californians call this “inner work” which is just a delightful expression – in New York people would ask “Oh yeah, who’s your Internist? We know this great guy up at Kettering. We could call him for you.” because people in New York are always offering to call doctors for you, that they know. It’s a “social capital thing” apparently. We find it a tiny bit disconcerting.

The English of course would greet you with a slightly worrying expression but then, after a few glasses of the potent liquid, slyly slip over to you and start to pry details on what this inner work is, because, they’re sort of fascinated but couldn’t possible admit to it.

Other friends from Other lands would light incense and ask the ancestors to clear away the bad karma.

Being teamgloria, of course, and being Widely Travel(l)ed –

we do it all.

The point of this rather rambling moment is just to draw your attention to the picture of Bill Blass to the left.

because when a dog loves you That Much you must be a truly lovely person.

last anecdote: the middle picture is Cher’s house in Malibu and yes, there is a Cher moment coming up: we were once on a date in Los Angeles – nope, you’re not getting any details apart from this one: Our date picked up their cellphone – we were driving, not they at the time, thank goodness, and said “Oh, it’s CHER, I better get it.” We tried not to crash the car and look sort of nonchalant as we turned Left on Laurel but it was impossible not to eavesdrop – Cher has a Very distinctive voice……….yes, darlings, We Have Lived many lives.

the final words must belong to Bill.

here’s his recipe for meat loaf:

1 cup chopped celery, I cup chopped onion, 2 pounds ground sirloin, 1/2 pound ground pork, 1/2 pound ground veal, (ask your butcher to grind the meats fresh) 1/2 cup minced parsley, 1 1/2 cups fresh bread crumbs, 1 egg beaten with 1 tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce, salt and pepper, pinch of thyme and marjoram, 1 12-ounce bottle Heinz Chili Sauce, 5 strips bacon.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Saute celery and onion in butter. Combine with the meats, parsley, bread crumbs, and egg with Worcestershire sauce, add seasonings, and form loaf. Top with chili sauce and then bacon. Bake 1 hour. Remove from oven and rest – not you, silly, the meat loaf.

serves six.

Bare Blass P.168

thank you Bill Blass.

waving from manhattan to wherever you are.

 

 

 

 

 

 

the new york playlist.

so it’s 2.56 AM in new york and we’re doing what many other people are probably doing Right Now – making a mixtape, darlings – waiting for dawn to come up (the sun, not a delivery person with late-night-chinese-order but that Did occur to us too)

can’t sleep.

music helps.

we even joined this new fangled (to us) website that allows one to create a list and share them…..isn’t that delightful?

just in case the instructions didn’t quite work (or there’s a geo-blocking for our friends outside of the Tri-State Area) – here’s the list.

if it sounds familiar that’s because we probably texted you (if we know you in RL) a little while ago – we were making a new york “app” but it needed more functionality and we’ll “re-visit” the concept when we have Left for the West and have more time.

although if we have any more sleepless nights, time is something we clearly have on our hands.

#sigh

oops.

nearly forgot – here’s the list!*

1. Arthur’s Theme: Christopher Cross

2. Walk on the Wild Side: Lou Reed

3. Gloria: Patti Smith

4. 1999: Prince

5. Movin’ Out (Anthony’s Song): Billy Joel

6. Get Into The Groove: Madonna

7. Sunday Morning: Velvet Underground

8. The Only LIving Boy in New York: Simon and Garfunkel

9. Everybody’s Talkin: Fred Neil

10. Let The River Run: New Texas

11. Take the A Train: Duke Ellington

12. Rapture: Blondie

13. Life During Wartime: Talking Heads

14. New York Minute: Don Henley

15. Autumn in New York: Charlie Parker

16. Hot In the City: Billy Idol

17. New York New York: Liza

18. Fashion: David Bowie

*the cool tracks are from our cooler friends – the Liza is All Ours, love.

the event of the cute shoes

darlings – we were at a special event representing our Day Job

so must stay silent on as to

where

and

why

and

how

But oh – the duo-tone Chic was delicious ;)

20120208-163334.jpg

20120208-163345.jpg

20120208-163352.jpg

we even managed to sneak in a moment of reflection (much desired, recently) at Pastis.

20120208-163511.jpg

20120208-163517.jpg

and as we walked home, to get changed for this evening’s festivities, it started to snow.

greenwich village looked very 19th century as the skies darkened and snowflakes settled onto our agnes b hat.

20120208-163720.jpg

the Paris of fashion insiders #update!

This just in! The terribly Chic author responded to our email so you can buy your own copy here……

Paris
Just returned from a Deeply interesting talk at McNally Jackson 20120124-213902.jpg20120124-213908.jpg20120124-213914.jpg
But by Far the most exciting discovery of the evening was a divine book we purchased that was self-published and self-printed by someone anonymous and especially glamorous on the print a book machine at McNally Jackson.

Look!

20120124-214235.jpg20120124-214241.jpg
The author reveals nothing but an email address: guide.Paris(at)aol.com

The illustrator is Caroline andrieu at untitled07

Genius.

Sadly no blog or ebook link to download……..of course we shall send this page to the delicious author and ask him/her/undecided_gender_de_season and see if we can update you…….we Need this on the iTouch pour Paris, cheri.

This just in: voila! To buy click here!

20120124-214633.jpg

terribly TriBeCa and a glorious tradeshow @capsuleshow #capsuleNY

yesterday was MLK day in the USA #respect and so we had the day Off from the Day job and did something a Little Different.

we went Fashion. as the Americans might say. Or, to quote a brit – we trolleyed our way to a tradeshow. And it was fascinating.

20120117-070848.jpg

20120117-070831.jpg

20120117-070805.jpg
Such deliciously beautiful people of both – actually all genders if you get our drift. And the divine sight of seeing mid-40 something Japanese designers speaking fluent Italian – que glam!

The show is called capsule.

And appears in Other capital cities around the world.

We may well visit them All.

We felt Very much at home with the international fashion Set. Quelle chic.

So chic, in fact, that we walked south (in the Freezing wind) and went all terribly TriBeCa for brunch with New Friends at Robert DeNiro’s place.

Not his actual apartment, darling. But his hotel. The Greenwich Hotel.

Very Monastery luxe, non?

And then – just now – before we head out into the biting winds in Tuesday – a lovely telephone call from Abroad.

We do love having friends in Foreign lands.

20120117-080406.jpg

20120117-070751.jpg

20120117-080727.jpg

20120117-080255.jpg

YSL: trauma, drama and haute couture.

the drama, the trauma, the couture, the houses, the art – l’amour fou indeed.

what a wonderful piece of art – about so many pieces of art. truly glorious. some may say at what cost – and yet, how could they possibly know how it felt to be YSL.

here is how he described it: “Every man needs aesthetic phantoms in order to exist,” Mr. Saint Laurent said at the announcement of his retirement. “I have known fear and the terrors of solitude. I have known those fair-weather friends we call tranquilizers and drugs. I have known the prison of depression and the confinement of hospital. But one day, I was able to come through all of that, dazzled yet sober.”