Category: Humor

Fashion: What The Hell Happened?

models

Paris Fashion Week is two weeks over and the supermodels have scattered to the various All-You-Can-Eat breadstick bistros to fuel up for the next round — so it’s safe to ask a few rhetorical questions.

When did fashion models get so angry?
Back in the day, models were pouty, sulky, sullen and even vague (who wouldn’t be, on a diet of coffee and cigarettes?) and we liked them that way.  Oddly enough, disinterested crack addict used to be considered sexy.  These days, they all look like they’re grinding their teeth and just praying for an opportunity to jump down off the runway and kick the bejesus out of somebody.  They’re like a really skinny motorcycle gang.  The last time the world saw this much pent-up hostility, Hitler invaded Poland.

Who wears those clothes?
I’m not talking about size nothing VS real women of the world — unrealistic body image expectations have been done to death.  I’m talking about a woman’s inalienable right to sit down.  Harnessed into some of that industrial-strength crap, it’s a wonder they can even blink their eyes.

Is there something schizophrenically wrong with a society which is totally obsessed with breasts but demands its professional clotheshorses don’t have any?
No doubt, and there’s probably years of therapy involved in there somewhere.

Why is Haute Couture synonymous with hideous?
I’m from an age when Oscar, Yves and Coco actually liked women.  They made clothes for them that looked nice, that fit, and, for the most part, were wearable to weddings, funerals, birthdays and other social occasions.  I have no idea where or when women actually wear the rag bags they’re sewing up these days.  Exorcisms?  Barbie has a better wardrobe, for God’s sake!

Why are fashion commentators so damn bitchy? [Oops!]
It was Richard Blackwell and his Worst Dressed List that started this trend sometime in the last century, and Joan Rivers turned it into an art form.  They both made mountains of money and now everybody’s doing it.  But it’s been more than 50 years, folks.  Could we move on?

And finally, why does a heterosexual, grey haired old guy like me even care?
Gimme a break! Fashion Week is fun.

Celebrities: Gone and Forgotten

musician-664432_1280Have you ever wondered what happens to flash-in-the pan celebs?  You know the ones.  They’re all over the media for what seems like forever, and then, one morning you wake up and they’re either dragging their ass through some second-rate reality TV program or they’ve pulled a total Houdini and are off the radar entirely.  Where do they go?

The poster boy for this phenom is, of course, Macaulay Culkin.  In the early 90s, you simply couldn’t get away from the little brat.  Then suddenly, mid-decade, he disappeared.  Personally, I think puberty caught up with him and, since faux precocious was his only talent, he was out of a job.  In 2005, he resurfaced to explain a series of close encounters with Michael Jackson; in 2006 he wrote a book nobody’s bought, read or heard of; and in 2013, he ate a pizza.  That’s pretty much it.

I’ll bet if I said Nayda Suleman you’d have no idea who I was talking about.  Surprise!  It’s Octomom, that baby-making machine of 2009.  Since pumping out more than half a basketball team, six years ago, Suleman the Magnificent has gone on to do all the usual mom stuff: bitch about the kids, declare bankruptcy, go on Welfare, deny it, admit it, go on Oprah (twice) make a porno movie, deny it, admit it and check herself into Rehab.  Makes most new moms look downright lazy, don’t it?  Frankly, Octomom didn’t disappear so much as wear out her welcome.  But the weird thing is, in this entire media storm, nobody ever mentioned Octodad.

I don’t know where Crocs have gone, and, honestly, I don’t care.

Like Cinderella, Monica Lewinsky parlayed a simple party dress into an entire career.  Although the jury’s still out on whether Ms Lewinsky is enjoying her happily-ever-after, or not.  Ever since she and President Bill were inappropriate together, Monica has played an elaborate game of hide-and-seek with the media, popping up at odd times to remind people how terrible it is to be a pop culture celeb.  America’s Favorite Kiss-and-Tell has also made a ton of money.  (One million dollars from Barbara Walters, alone!)  These days, she’s involved in TED Talks…. (TED Talks?  Man, have those people gone downhill!)

Back in 2010/2011, Julian Assange was the bad boy of the week, WikiLeaks was the cause de jour and governments were getting in line to prosecute the guy.  Pretty good for an Australian whose only talent is sneaky.  They even made a movie about him: The Fifth Estate (which, BTW, was so godawful even The Cumberbatch couldn’t save.)  But what a difference a year makes!  Rather than face the music, when the lawyers started circling, Assange (just like that smarmy tattletale from high school) ran for cover behind the legal gates of the Ecuadorian Embassy.  Wait a minute!  The champion of free speech is hiding WHERE?  Anyway, despite the irony, he’s been there ever since.

Unless you’ve been living on Neptune, you’ve heard of Psy.  In 2012, he came storming out of South Korea and Gangnam Style became Asia’s most contagious export since the Black Plague.  It was the first video to exceed a billion hits on YouTube, and Psy generated so much media power he was able to bring MC Hammer back from the dead.  What’s he doing now?  No idea, but chances are good he’s spending a lot of time chillin with Right Said Fred, Bobby McFerrin and the Starlight Vocal Band at the One-Hit-Wonder Retirement Centre.

Nothing prepared the world for Paris Hilton.  She wasn’t the first celeb to become famous for being famous, but she certainly was the skankiest.  In 2003, when she “accidently” released a sex tape on the Internet to promote her TV show The Simple Life the media practically wet its pants.  From then on, the paparazzi have followed Paris like French pigs hunting truffles.  Not bad for a woman who has one expression — vapid.  Finally outnumbered by the Kardashians, she was kicked to the curb in 2007 and has remained there ever since, although she was recently spotted in Vegas faking orgasms for a dollar a toss at Thunder From Down Under.

How the mighty have fallen!

St. Patrick’s Day Trivia — II

pub-483944_1280It takes more than a green t-shirt and a belly full of beer to make you Irish on St. Patrick’s Day.  Well, no.  Actually, it doesn’t.  However, if you want to appear to be more than just a Liam-come-lately to the party, you need to know a little bit about the Emerald Isle.  Here are a few quick and dirties to help you out:

“I’ll Take You Home Again, Kathleen,” that great Irish ballad, was written in Indiana by Thomas Westendorf, a German-American (whose wife’s name, BTW, was Jennie.)

The O’Connell Bridge across the River Liffey is the only bridge in Europe that’s wider than it is long.

The windmills in Ireland turn clockwise, which is exactly the opposite of the way they turn everyplace else on the planet.

What’s the difference between Bono and God?  God doesn’t walk around acting as if he’s Bono.

There are two official languages in Ireland: English and Irish.  Most stuff is bilingual and everybody speaks English, but if you act like a jackass, especially in the West Country, you might find yourself facing a solid wall of no comprendo Gaelic.  Just sayin’.

The Guinness Book of World Records holds the Guinness World Record for books most often stolen from public libraries.

In Dublin, between 6 pm Friday and 3 am Monday, approximately 10,000 pints of beer are consumed — every hour.

The remains of St Valentine (who isn’t a saint, anymore)are in Ireland.  You can visit the shrine at Whitefriar Street Church in Dublin.

And speaking of saints, Saint Patrick isn’t one.  There is no evidence that St. Patrick was ever canonized.

And, hold on to your shillelagh: Saint Patrick wasn’t even Irish!  In fact, chances are good, he was — OMG — English.

A word to the wise though: don’t go spouting those last two nuggets of knowledge promiscuously around the pub.  It just might put the ire in your Irish friends — permanently.  As my great uncle used to say, “You never want to give a Celt an opportunity to hate you.”  Sound advice.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day.