she's gotta have it

Exfoliation

2010-06-26T22:33:00.002-05:00

Exfoliation is to a skin regimen, what flossing is to tooth care. Essential, and increasingly important as one ages, but also easy to skip. I've been more theory than practice, but now as I'm in my thirties I find myself missing that youthful glow. In my twenties, a quick rub with a face cloth was usually all I needed, but now it's time for a slightly stronger remedy.

For my face, I'm using Clinique's 7 Day scrub. I have light Irish skin, the kind that wrinkles like a sheet of paper, so it's plenty strong enough for now. I had a good old scrub this morning, as part of my new (hopefully) weekly routine. It left my skin soft and glowing. Although new skin cells continue to form, the sloughing off of old cells starts to slow down as we age. In this heat, I've noticed that my skin's been looking less than stellar. The exfoliation seems to have brought a little bit of my glow back and left my skin feeling smooth.

For my body, I am going hard core. I dug my bath gloves out of my sock drawer, where they've been living for the past few years. I bought them at the Body Shop. They're quite small but stretchy and made of some rough material. I put them on in the shower; and, after getting them wet, I put a dollop of body wash on the palm of one. After rubbing my hands together to get a bit of a lather going, I start to scrub from my neck all the way down to my toes. It's amazingly effective. I don't do it every day, just 2-3 times a week. I used to use Body Shop's Peppermint Cooling Pumice Foot Scrub all over. It left my skin lovely, soft and sweet smelling, but the tubs were small and rather expensive. I think the bath gloves are a better way to go, although I am still searching for my ideal body wash. All of the creamy stuff isn't really my thing. I was hoping to find something with grapefruit. Aveeno has one with rosemary and lemongrass, but it doesn't pack quite the punch I was hoping for. Looks like I will have to go back to the Body Shop. The grapefruit shower gel has a great snappy scent.

All in all, my skin's in pretty good shape, and I know I'm lucky that only a few tweaks are needed now and then.

Angelina Jolie invited you to join Facebook...

2010-06-14T11:24:00.002-05:00

I had not one but two invitations from Mlle Jolie in my spam filter this Monday morning. How different my weekend might have been if only said invites had been received earlier. Such is life.

Worst Idea Ever

2010-06-09T22:11:00.004-05:00

Sex is awesome and everyone should be invited to the party. Whether it's for two or more, so long as things stay safe, consensual and fun, please go and be joyous. But OMG these sex tapes have to stop. Seriously. What's next?

Post Secret Pick

2010-06-06T22:08:00.000-05:00

Yikes!!!

Counting the days . . .

2010-05-30T22:48:00.002-05:00

June 13. Can't wait!

A few months ago, I introduced my book club to the joys of the Sookie Stackhouse mysteries. They were a tad too racy for some of the 'ladies', but most people got into the spirit. When my friend went to buy the book, another customer started talking about the HBO series. Apparently this woman got very excited and started rambling on about vampire porn. I would venture a guess that she's a fan!

Joy!

2010-05-07T19:16:00.002-05:00

Found a link on Jezebel to these great pictures. I'm not a dancer, but I wish I were. Check out more of the photos here.

Fake

2010-04-29T22:30:00.001-05:00

This isn't a real secret; it's an art project.

Nostalgia

2010-04-28T12:31:00.004-05:00

Yesterday's analysis of a 1986 issue of Elle over on Jezebel has made me realise how much I miss the 80s. We were fiercer and a lot more fun back then. It wasn't all cheesy pop music and acid wash jeans, there were also big dreams and the belief you could make anything happen. I loved the who do it yourself ethos of the era. It wasn't just about greed or consumerism.

Love & Rossdale Trysts

2010-04-27T12:37:00.001-05:00

I sniggered a bit when I heard the news about Courtney Love's alleged hook up with Gavin Rossdale. And it's not just straight up schadenfreude either. Although I do find Ms Stefani adorable in many ways--her determination and joie de vivre are two of her most winning characteristics--there is also an aspect of her character that I find insufferable. In the press, she's been quite deliberate in cultivating an image at odds with the rock and roll lifestyle. She's the one drinking green tea while all the boys in her band are banging the Gwen wannabees backstage at the show. Shall we all pause for a moment and consider how fucking meta this is? Not to mention the irony? And, of course, she is quick to remind us that she's only had like two boyfriends ever in her whole life. Courtney Love seems like a breath of fresh air in comparison. I hate the fucked up logic that equates so-called chastity with femininity. It's like honouring someone's bullemia, because it keeps them looking pretty. Courtney may be deeply flawed, but at least she's human and honest. That being said, I have no time for her lack of parenting skills.

Treme

2010-04-25T23:24:00.001-05:00

I am loving the new series Treme. There hasn't been much buzz about it, which is worrying. It's got good story lines and dozens of great little moments--strippers are moving in--that illuminate not only life in crisis but also life in general. And its refreshing to see actors rather than the plastic androids who seem to inhabit many of the network dramas. And I'm starting to feel some of the love I had for Khandi Alexander when she was on News Radio. I don't know wtf she was doing, performance-wise on Miami Vice. Finally, I think that Davis' character, played by Steven Zahn, makes a compelling argument for the soul patch, regardless of what the lady mags might say.

The Hell Much Music Hath Spawned

2010-04-07T12:25:00.003-05:00

The soporific Laurie Brown is guest hosting on Q this week. She is simply appalling. The last time she filled in for Gomeshi, she completely botched an interview with David Sedaris. Sedaris did his best. He kept lobbing conversational soft balls at her, but she failed to return any of them. It was brutal, and I suspect Ms Brown will feature in some wicked short story in the future.

Cider

2010-02-24T19:32:00.002-06:00

Cider makes me mean. I drink more than two and I am a foul-tempered drunk. No idea why. Speaking of cider, how great is the word scrumpy? Scrumpy. It sounds kind of sexy.

Lands End Canvas

2010-02-20T10:58:00.000-06:00

One of the dowdiest online retailers has come over all hipster-ish in recent months. I was looking for a canvas tote and discovered the company's newest venture called Canvas. It looks like they're usual stuff, made for smaller models, carefully styled and shot on location in Williamsburg. What's next? Shots from LATFH in khakis?

Whatever Happened to SMG?

2010-02-17T20:50:00.001-06:00

I was a huge fan of Buffy in the 90s and though the star would go on to big things. I caught one of her movies, Simply Irresistible, and wondered if her success might not have more to do with Joss Whedon than natural talent. It seems that many of the actresses--except perhaps Alyson Hannigan--he works with seem to thrive in his series but wilt without him.

Post Secret

2010-02-14T22:45:00.002-06:00

Not to sound overly harsh, but we all know this woman, and it is never a secret who she's baking for. Office romances are crap. And so are shows about office romances. The quiet genius of Gervais' sitcom is as of yet undiscovered by me. I have ample opportunity to suffer aholes in my real life. Why should I devote part of my entertainment hours?

Matt & Nat: Nin

2010-02-04T20:05:00.002-06:00

I was doing a little on-line browsing and came across this little number. I adore it: great shape.

Christmas is Over

2010-02-03T19:30:00.001-06:00

It's February. Why are there still Christmas decorations up on the light standards around my home town? And why the f*ck do my neighbours turn on their lights every night? Seriously.

40 over 40

2010-02-02T21:47:00.006-06:00

Apparently, forty percent of men over 40 experience some form of erectile dysfunction. What a lot I have to look forward to . . . . This piece of information puts the motivations of cougars in a whole new perspective. It seems the only sensible approach.

Chipotle

2010-02-01T21:28:00.000-06:00

I'm really digging on chipotle, but this dip that I've found tastes a lot like cigarette smoke. Still oddly tasty. What gives?

Post Secret: My Fave this Week

2010-01-31T21:56:00.000-06:00

PostSecret rules.

Charlaine Harris

2009-12-29T21:38:00.000-06:00

This Christmas I spent the season with the fam. Of course that meant it was necessary to find ways to amuse myself. I have been devouring everything and anything Charlaine Harris has written. I raced through the Sookie Stackhouse series so quickly I nearly gave myself vertigo. She's a great plotter and love the sexiness of the series. I've been having dreams about some of Ms Stackhouse's paramours, and, no, not the obvious ones. She's genius.

Being Erica

2009-12-09T21:35:00.002-06:00

How awesome is CBC's Being Erica? I adore Erin Karpluk. And the wardrobe is fabulous. I never knew that Toronto cold be so glamourous!

Birthday Sluts

2009-11-28T09:48:00.003-06:00

Birthday Sluts

Posted using ShareThis

Holy hotness. What a gift for a hungover Saturday morning. Found this over at dlisted and had to share. MK knows how to brighten any girl/gay's day.

Holidays

2009-11-27T12:53:00.001-06:00

Am feeling dread about the holidays. My job has started sucking and one of my payments for freelance work just bounced. Not the kind of stress I need.

Still Stitching and Bitching

2009-11-21T08:51:00.003-06:00

I am working away on four different scarves for my sibling's family. At the moment, they are living down south, but soon they will be returning to the frosty north. I thought it would be fun--for the kids at least--to knit up a little reminder of what's to come. I've been trawling the yarn shops for the best colours and textures. There is one amazing place near me. I have relied on Michael's for a few other things. Not very exciting, but they do have some good cotton and merino yarns.

Brightest Star in the Sky

2009-11-19T20:14:00.003-06:00

Marian Keyes truly is a god among women. Her latest book, The Brightest Star in the Sky, has me curled up in bed and devouring every page. She writes such lovely busy crazy sentences. There are a number of intertwined stories. Each character is hugely likable, although each is different in their own way. I love the risk she's taken by adopting a slightly magical element to the narrative.

Update: I finished reading this last night. The last few chapters had me in floods of tears, but in the best possible way.

This is why the olds should stop having sex

2009-11-10T11:00:00.006-06:00

I came across this story in one of my favourite blogs. Michael K. has named the hapless lovers from Cornell b-school as the hot sluts of the day. Their exchange, which can be read in full here, is totally cringe worthy. I will never be able to look at a blue thong without thinking of seasoning sauce. And that is not a good thing.

BTW epic fail for the tech guy. Hitting BCC all is a rookie mistake. Clearly, he was sending these missives to his personal email account as a souvenir or spank material for afters. Or maybe he just wanted to get caught? Hugely embarassing for both and their families, but if you're going to play you better be ready to pay.

Secret Diary of a Call Girl

2009-11-01T23:10:00.004-06:00

What better way to spend a sleepy Sunday than catching up with a favourite series? Although I saw a few episodes when it first came out, I missed most of television's take on the 'Belle du Jour' blog turned novel. I adore Billie Piper. Wouldn't have guessed that, but she is completely winsome. Not so much a tart with a heart but rather a consummate professional. I have been taking notes. The actors are lovely and refreshingly un-botoxed. Must confess they do look a full decade older than their US counterparts. And it was refreshing to see an imperfect teeth bleaching jobs. It looks like the actress who plays Bambi can only afford to get the front four done. I spotted a very yellow-ish eye tooth on an episode from Season 2.

Blue Sky Thinking

2009-10-31T10:54:00.005-05:00

I picked one of these bad boys up at Costco this week, and I am v impressed with the results so far. It may be psychosomatic, but I feel much zippier. A Harvard study indicates the blue light is more effective than traditional therapies. The Philips goLITE BLU is cheaper (with the limited-time discount) and more compact than any other I've found. I've been using while on the computer during the day. I am going to try it out as an 'alarm clock', and see how it works. Anything the beat the winter blahs!

Update: I am mildly addicted to this light. It's made a huge difference to my mood. Every morning, I trudge down to my office to switch on the light and bask in its glow for 20 minutes. I wasn't able to work out how to use it as an alarm clock. One needs to be careful though in placing it a good distance away. I had it too close to my face for the first few days, and I did notice some problems with my eyes. Follow the directions, and you'll be fine. Highly recommended!

HBO True Blood Marathon

2009-10-30T23:03:00.002-05:00

It's taken me some time to warm to HBO's True Blood. I am a huge fan of Alan Ball's oeuvre, but I haven't been able to get into his latest series. It's the southern accents. I blame Anna Paquin. I adore her, but her talent don't stretch to the Louisiana border. I finally got over it by starting at the beginning. Am seriously in love with the actor who play Eric. Who the fuck isn't really?

MAC Staff Rock

2009-10-29T21:01:00.002-05:00

I went to make a purchase the other day at my local MAC counter, but before stopping there I went to another department store cosmetic counter. And let's just say I was underwhelmed by the level of service I got. It was a completely different story at MAC. The staff is knowledgeable and efficient. Kudos to the company for their focus on service. I am a fan.

Coming Full Circle

2009-10-28T12:05:00.004-05:00

After making the rounds of various skin care ranges--highs: Clairins (lovely but it didn't really seem to do anything); lows: Aveeno Active Naturals (made me spout countless zits), I am heading back to the Clinique counter to stock up on its 3-Steps. I do wish the Dramatically Different moisturizer was a touch richer, especially for winter use, but I am looking forward to using the cleansing bar. It really does the trick. And I think its time to start using the turnaround lotion.

ROYKSOPP by Matt & Natt

2009-10-27T20:55:00.001-05:00

The covetousness I feel when looking at this bag is cancelled out by its virtue. I love Matt & Nat's vegan handbags. Since I've stopped eating meat, I have found myself repulsed by leather. I just can't get over the fact that its ripped from the flesh of a living thing. Gross and bad in equal measures. Real suede is the worst though. It almost looks like goosebumps.

Bamboo is the New Green Tea

2009-10-19T19:29:00.002-05:00

Quel bizarre hairdo. Is this beehive meant to inspire confidence in the product? It looks like they wrapped hair extensions around a piece of foam

Being Erica

2009-08-12T21:30:00.000-05:00

How awesome is CBC's Being Erica? I =3 Erin Karpluk. The clothes are absolutely fab.

Guys w'iPhones

2009-07-28T13:28:00.003-05:00

From a purely anthropological perspective, the site dedicated to self-portraits snapped by a cross-section of young men--everything from muscle marys to twinks--is fascinating. I love the intersection between the branded object and the self. It's long been accepted that brands, like apple et al, have positioned themselves as either extensions of the personality or proof of individuality. This phenomena takes it to another level.

Nic Cage

2009-07-26T20:47:00.004-05:00

This past few weeks have been all about work, so I decided to take today off. I'vewatched three movies on cable so far, two of them featuring Nicholas Cage in the cast. what ever happened to him? He was so gorgeous to me when I was in my teens. The first movie I saw him in was Valley Girl. I loved his edginess. The cast for "Peggy Sue" is amazing--Joan Allen, Jim Carey, Helen Hunt--but then it was directed by Coppola. It must be so amazing to have been a part of one of his projects. Nepotism has mixed results: why does Coppola persist in his belief that his daughter can act? Even as a teen, she was wooden and unconvincing.Valley Girl was appalling. It's amazing the sorts of things that mange to get made. A quick look on IMDB of the various working titles suggest that the script underwent a number of different incarnations. What struck me is how the fashions--largely preppy--were so incredibly concealing. Everyone was dressed in layers of things that obscured their bodies. It's a sharp contrast to the crop tops and low cut jeans of the period that followed.

Jezebel Reveal

2009-07-21T21:38:00.005-05:00

I wasn't surprised when Kiwi Jenna Sauers was revealed as the author of the v. good Tatiana the Anonymous Model posts on Jezebel. Perhaps I should rephrase that . . . I wasn't surprised when a relative outsider was the woman responsible for the trenchant commentary and observations. Kiwis, like Canucks and members of those countries who live their lives in the shadow of super power, develop a more critical sensibility as they are constantly bombarded by messages or media that need to be reinterpreted. Living in the shadow of the US means that I watch a lot of films and television developed for a very different cultural sensibility. I'm a lot more critical watching this stuff than I would be otherwise.

Green Tea v. Tea Tree

2009-06-20T07:30:00.000-05:00

These ingredients have become as ubiquitous as jojoba oil was in the 80's. But I've noticed green tea and tea tree oil turning up in the most unlikely places. While searching for a life-friendly nail hardener, i.e. one that is formaldehyde-free, I found one with green tea extracts. And of course cosmetic companies have been pouring tea tree oil into everything from shampoo to face cream for ages now. Personally, I love it for healing spots and cuts, but the smell doesn't do anything for me. I was surprised to hear that some studies have linked the use of tea tree oil to an increased risk of infection and, somewhat alarmingly, gynecomastia in young boys.

Vodka: Fail

2009-06-15T23:52:00.000-05:00

Is this possible a 2009 thing? I just can't tolerate vodka. It seems kinda 90s.

Does anyone read magazines any more?

2009-06-14T22:08:00.000-05:00

Is it just me, or does anyone read magazines anymore? When I was teen, magazines were an important part of my daily diet. I read everything I could get my hands on, voraciously and indiscriminately. Obvs. new media has steadily encroached steadily on print media's territory, but I still see racks of magazines every time I go to the drug store or the market. However, I rarely see anyone purchasing them.

The closest I get to reading mags these days is either at the salon or on the web. Jezebel's deconstruction of the ladymags is especially fine.

Natural Toothpaste

2009-05-21T14:02:00.000-05:00

It's been a few months since I made the switch to a more natural brand of toothpaste, and I must admit I'm a fan. I used Colgate for years, but now I am sickened by the sweetness of it. The stuff I'm using now is by Tom's of Maine. It contains silica, which tastes a bit like a sealant. I haven't tasted it before, but if you've smelled the sealer they use on windows, you know what I mean.

Come, Armageddon! Come!

2009-05-01T20:33:00.002-05:00

Everyday is like Sunday with swine flu.

Cover Girl Lip Stain

2009-04-17T18:06:00.001-05:00

Initially, I thought this product was brilliant but after a few weeks, I ended up tossing the tube in the trash. It dried my lips out and the colour was a bit odd. I have reverted to my two-step method: a MAC lip liner and some balm. PS: Just checked the colour match on the website, and it looks like I may have picked the wrong colour for my complexion. Oops

Billy Boob Thornton

2009-04-08T20:26:00.000-05:00

God, this man was an ass. It was absolutely excruciating to listen to and made me briefly sympathize with his former love interests. I don't often have the occasion to pity Hollywood actresses, but today my heart went out to Jolie, Dern, et al. This man is a bully plain and simple. Take it from one who has been there. Men like this need to be placed in isolation where they are unable to inflict themselves on anyone. Bastards!

Oscar Fatigue

2009-02-23T13:08:00.003-06:00

Am I the only one who doesn't care? I switched off the broadcast long before the big winners were announced last night and was utterly unimpressed with the wins. Except for Milk, of course. That deserved everything it got and more. It's really the only film that seems mildly relevant in this post-America era. It was nice to see Phoebe Cates out and about though.

Recessionista

2009-01-15T19:15:00.001-06:00

The recession sucks to be frank. I have contemplated the following: baking, cooking, shopping my own closet, recycling, thrift store shopping, ebay, and even arts and crafts. To date, the only homemade project I've had a hand in is amateur porn, but I'm confident that with a little time and patience I'll be whipping up toilet roll covers in no time.

Oprah Cover

2009-01-03T11:23:00.002-06:00

I know it's not the cover, but it shows Oprah lighter than she's been in an awfully long time. Personally, I am sick of the debate surrounding the subject and wish she'd just embrace the journey. 'What happened' isn't the question I would ask. More like 'shit happens' and you try again.

In Treatment

2008-12-15T21:00:00.001-06:00

While flying south for the hols, I made an amazing discovery via the onboard entertainment service. In Treatment is every bit as compelling as the pundits proclaim. I watched three eps on the way down. It was very nearly the highlight of my holidays! Cannot wait until these are released on DVD, as I am either morally opposed to bootlegs or too inept to download them. It's 60/40.

Le Divorce

2008-10-16T13:01:00.000-05:00

While it was neither unexpected or of any relevance to my daily existence, I was nevertheless saddened to hear of the divorce between M & R. I suppose we all have a never-ending parade of tabloid features, insider revelations and thoughtful analysis to look forward to. Plus the coverage of whomever they date next. Sigh.

Tina Fey Book Deal

2008-10-07T20:32:00.006-05:00

While listening to CNN, I learnt that Tina Fey has been offered 5 mill for a 'humorous work of non-fiction'. Will this be the oughties' Seinlanguage or something altogether better? Only time will tell, when it is undoubtedly released just in time for the holidays. Apologies for the obvious gam shot stolen from the Bust shoot. But did you know, that body was built by Weight Watchers? Yes, it's true. You can take the girl out the suburbs, but you can't take the suburbs out of the girl.

SATC DVD Release

2008-09-23T19:38:00.002-05:00

While chopping veg for din with the tv on, I saw the ad promoting the upcoming release of the SATC dvd and felt a sudden urge to: first, wildly overspend; and second, drink something pink. Quelle Pavlovian response, n'est ce pas?

Sham Marriages

2008-09-15T23:50:00.002-05:00

Marriages of convenience abound both on and off the tabloid radar. Many people have their suspicions about the male halves of these unions; however, I wonder if it is only the boys who have something to hide. Wouldn't it be something if Jordan/Katie was the one with something to hide? Lately when I'm watching their reality show, I am keeping half an eye peeled for Ms Price's butch lover.

hot coffee

2008-09-02T12:18:00.003-05:00

For reasons I have never fully understood or even explored, I prefer to drink coffee that's been made by someone else. Since I have been at the cabin for three days, I have, of course, been drinking my own brew. This is not to say that I don't know how to make a good cup or lack any of the necessary equipment or ingredients. The way I feel about drinking my own coffee is the way many people feel about self-stimulation: it's okay and it certainly gets the job done, but it's usually much nicer if you can get someone else involved.

Helen Cocaine Mirren

2008-08-31T23:13:00.005-05:00

Whoever said wisdom comes with age didn't know Helen Mirren. She has the emotional depth and intellectual gravitas of a geriatric Paris Hilton. She is a complete narcissist. This article reminded me of exactly why I loathe her.

Gay Until Graduation

2008-08-18T15:43:00.004-05:00

Although I haven't been following the controversy too closely, it seems that young Miss Perry has stirred up the gays, the chattering classes and even her parents. Since I first heard the song, I've had a love/hate relationship with it. I love the catchy tune, but I hate the incredibly stupid lyrics. It's the same old media stunt, perfected by Madonna and repeated endlessly ever since. Ultimately, as far as trenchant social commentary goes, "I Kissed a Girl" belongs to the same category as "Papa Don't Preach". Having seen the video, it becomes obvious that Perry is simply ticking all the white girl experimenting boxes. It was one tired cliche after another: soft porn, lipstick lesbian fantasies, pillow fights, and a yummy brother waiting in bed at home. This decade is turning out to be so fucking boring. The kind of sexuality that used to represent a sense of danger, of bravery, of difference, has now been assimilated and airbrushed by mainstream media. Crap like this makes celibacy look interesting.

Derek Alexander Must-Have

2008-08-17T19:23:00.004-05:00

While shopping with my mom this weekend, I spotted this item from Derek Alexander. It's a double-sided credit card holder with snapping straps to keep everything in place. It's gorgeous in red, less so in the pictured combination. Hugely inventive and practical too.

Desperately Seeking Susan

2008-08-16T23:54:00.000-05:00

It's Madonna's birthday, so the music channels are dedicating their programming to her madgesty. I'm watching her first major-release film and remembering all the reasons why I liked Madam M when I was younger. She was funny. The film itself was very good. I love the goofball comedy and girls-on-top conclusion. When I watched Roberta rescue Susan by smashing the bottle on the mob guy's head, I knew there was a different sensibility informing this film than any I had seen previously. Madonna brought me to an awareness of independent film. Not a bad thing, I suppose.

Asking for Flowers

2008-08-13T10:53:00.005-05:00

Although it was released a few months ago, I haven't really had a chance to get into Kathleen Edwards new album. It is country-alt perfection, packed with biting lyrics and clever melodies. I especially like the title track. She's certainly matured as an artist but lost none of her wistfulness. Just more proof that Canada is not only the home of brilliant comedians but also talented singer-songwriters. Am hugely into Canadian music now, including the retro stuff. I loaded up a bunch of really earnest early Randy Bachman stuff. It's solid.

Space Bags

2008-08-04T23:16:00.003-05:00

I've been watching too much cable and am hankering after all kinds of new inventions and time-saving devices. Making pasta on the stove is a lot of work! Yes, I would like to treat my acne in three easy steps. And, of course, I want to stop wasting money on paper towels. But more than anything, I would like to shrink my winter sweaters down into little plastic pancakes, so I have three times the storage space.

Life with My Sister Madonna

2008-08-03T11:37:00.001-05:00

Have been looking forward to this book since its release but only managed to pick up a copy this weekend at Costco. Raced through the book at a sickening pace and discovered the following:

1. Sucessfuly couching one's prose exclusively in the present tense is v. difficult and should not be undertaken by amateurs or journo hacks.

2. Mr. Ciccone's journey toward self-actualization has yet to truly begin.

3. Ditto his therapeutic adventures.

4. Bish plz, you brought this on yourself! You know she's no good for you. Just walk away.

Harsh words aside, it was a good read and the author sounded like he was not only good fun but hugely talented as well.

Reviews: Guardian, Times, NY Post

The Fame Formula

2008-07-28T14:07:00.006-05:00

Apparently, a statistical formula has been developed to explain the trajectory of fame. Using the career paths of slebs such as Jade Goody and Paris Hilton, researchers have determined that fame is fleeting with an average lifespan of 15 months. After that point, constant reinvention is needed to keep the public engaged. That goes a long way in explaining the staying power of Jordan aka Katie Price.

Source: Guardian

Exes

2008-07-19T11:46:00.001-05:00

Remembrance of flings past

What happened when Tanya Gold tried to track down her ex-boyfriends?
Tanya Gold
Saturday July 19, 2008

Guardian
A month ago, I decided to go out and find all my ex-boyfriends, to see what has happened to them, and to conduct a live-action autopsy of our relationships. I was so excited: I would have an excuse to ring them all up and stalk them. I'm back! I'm a journalist! And, contrary to the expectations of everyone who knew me before I stopped drinking six years ago, I am alive!

There are 15 I remember, and 10 I can name. First there is David, whom I knew when I was 13. I used to stand at parties drinking vodka, like a small Judy Garland, drooling at his Aryan blondness. Google gave me his phone number, at a law firm in the City. "It's an interesting idea... can I call you back?" he said. He never did.

Oliver, whom I dated at Oxford, actually screamed at the suggestion. "No! No! No! I don't want to do that. Don't ask me again. Ever." So how about Alan? He blacked my eye at university because I was sleeping with his friend. He whispered down the phone that he never wants to talk about Oxford again. Small twinges of guilt began to seep into my jolly game. Had I hurt these men?

I will have to dive deeper, deeper than I want to. So I look for Adam on the internet, and within a week we are lunching at a cafe. I met Adam when I was 14 and gadding around town with a would-be party girl called Amanda, who was terribly embarrassed about the fact that her father was a taxi driver. I was terribly embarrassed that my father was a dentist. So we got on. One night in a pub in Camden, we bumped into Adam.

He was 19 and tall and gaunt and looked as if he had escaped from a hospice. I thought he was cool because he smoked pot and lived in Muswell Hill, so I mooned around after him. I was from Norbiton - a satellite of Kingston upon Thames, a satellite of a satellite - and I was an outcast at school because I was afflicted by the Four Social Horsemen of the Apocalypse: fat, needy, Jewish and top of the class.

Adam would sit in his squat - all the furniture was made of cardboard boxes, decorated with cans of Tennent's, and strange men with beards wafted in and out - and read philosophy. I used to give him blow jobs while thinking about the plot riffs in Jilly Cooper novels. He appeared to dislike me, yet he was always prepared to stick his hand up the ra-ra skirt I'd stolen from Miss Selfridge. I had the impression that he was too drugged to ask me to leave.

I stand outside the cafe, peering at every passerby, thinking, "Is it him?" I remember very well those sad little journeys to Muswell Hill. It always seemed to be raining. I used to get the bus to Richmond and then the train to that exotic, half-imagined destination, north London. We would, for some reason, get into a bath with no water in it, and touch each other. We didn't have sex, because I was too young. The only thing I remember him saying to me was when I turned up with a bunch of flowers for him: "You are the bringer of dead roses." He started to avoid me, and I got the message.

He was so thin when I knew him, and now - as he walks towards me - he's stocky. He has a beautiful face, except he still has no lips. I feel a glow of covetousness; I still want him to want me. (Did he ever really want me?) I half get up to kiss him, but I can't get up further because the table is jammed between us. We sit down. "You look beautiful," he tells me.

"I remember our relationship very well. Lots of oral sex," he says. And I think, "Yuck. Sleazy." He starts to tell me that he runs a software business and he made £3,000 last week. He says he is married to a woman he describes as "unique".

When did we last see each other? He tells me a story I had forgotten. Years later, I had rung him up, and we'd gone to the pub, eaten Thai food and got pissed. At that time, I was a drinking alcoholic. Then we went back to his house to have sex for the first time. Afterwards, as we lay in bed, he said, in the flat drawl of a genuine sadist, "I'm marrying my girlfriend."

I talk to him, listen to him, and I realise that I never knew anything about him. I had no idea who he was. I just took this man and threw all my fantasies on to him; me paint, he wall.

"At that time, I was doing loads of cocaine," he says. "That's why I was so thin. At one point I was down to eight stone." He looks at me, half-closes his eyes and, as if he is seriously wondering, asks why we never got together. Because you showed no interest in me? "Well, I was on a lot of drugs..." And he opens his eyes. "Your party trick was pissing me off, so I would tell you to fuck off," he murmurs. "That's all you were interested in."

Then he says, "I'm not going to tell my wife I'm here." He gives me a shifty, conniving look. Is he...?

I am surprised, but I am always surprised when somebody wants to have sex with me; I usually assume men take off my clothes because they are looking for my wallet. I smirk. You're not coming back to my flat, Adam. "Yes, I am. Let's go."

We walk in the park, then go to a gallery. We are behaving like teenagers, trying to impress each other, and we are almost angry at each other for being so excited. We are on a date, and it is much more fun than it used to be, because we are not in a damp squat infested by cardboard furniture and strange bearded men.

He walks me to the tube and I clutch his shoulders and hug him. He bends his head and gives me a slightly slimy kiss on the mouth. "When can I call you without being a stalker?" he asks. I feel triumphant. My 14-year-old has beaten his 19-year-old to a pulp; somewhere, my Miss Selfridge skirt is cheering.

Another day, another ghost. I met Matthew at school when I was eight and he was 10. I thought he was wonderful because he was the only one of the older boys who talked to me. Then we lost touch until I bumped into him at a station when I was 16. He had become beautiful: half-Irish, half-black, perfectly symmetrical features. "Come to my house tomorrow night," he said.

He lived in a house on Richmond Hill. All I really remember now was that I was desperate to lose my virginity. I must have told him that before adding, coquettishly, that I would never, never have sex with him. "Let's watch TV instead," he said.

We smoked dope, listened to music and drank hot chocolate with cream. Within a few weeks, the virginity was dead. I was the most terrible faker. I went, "Ah, ooh, ah, ooh, ooh." Then he told me, in passing, that he was in love with a boy called Henry. We split up not long after because he was sleeping with half the street: man, woman or postbox.

One night, at a party, I met the boy he loved - Henry. He looked like the hero of High School Musical. I sat and whined about how badly Matthew had treated me. This was only foreplay: I was wooing him. The fact it would hurt Matthew made me want him more.

When I called Matthew to brag that I had shagged Henry, he fell for me. It was a sign of respect. For a year, we spent all our time together. He was very affectionate and he swept me up into a narcissistic fantasy of himself. I was his girlfriend, but he still liked sleeping with other people. We began to have threesomes. I came from the most boring background in the world and this seemed thrilling.

And now he is walking towards me in Euston station. He is 36, but still looks 12. In an Indian restaurant, he tells me he worked as a fundraiser for a major political party and is now a consultant. He is married to a man. So you're gay, I say, chewing a piece of naan bread. "Bisexual," he says. "I kissed a girl 10 years ago."

How did it end between Matthew and me? One night his friend Ian came round for a threesome, and Ian and I sloped off together. The next day, Matthew got his older brother to scream down the phone: "Fuck off, you're so boring!"

"I know I hurt you," he says, "but I was just a kid. If I wasn't gay, I think I would have liked to have made a life with you." I goggle at him, and ask what he didn't like about me. "Your vicious desire to be miserable was very annoying," he says laconically. "And the way you seduced men I wanted to sleep with - that was very, very annoying." He laughs. He has to go to work. We part with a hug. It feels uncomplicated, and warm. I was not to hit real misery until I returned to the heterosexuals - and to the men I knew when I was drinking.

And so on to Jon. I met him in the college bar in Oxford during freshers' week in 1994. He was sitting on his own with a bright red bassoon in his lap, looking angry. So I went back to his room and slept with him. We had sex intermittently for two years. He was very distant. We would lie in bed smoking a post-shag fag and he would say, "I'm going for a run now." And then run away.

Memories come to me in patches of fog. My drinking became alcoholic the week I met Jon, and the story of our relationship is the story of the growing sickness.

I stand outside the station in Cornwall waiting for him. He runs a sheet music shop called Kershaw Music, he told me on the phone. He is married and has a three-year-old daughter called Emily. I feel nervous: he remembers things about me that I do not. He arrives in a big, battered Mercedes and greets me jovially. We go and sit on the beach and stare out to sea.

Jon always said he nearly failed his finals because of me. What did you see in me, Jon? Do you remember I had my first blackout outside your door when you wouldn't let me in? You had to call the porter to remove me. Looking at the ocean, he says, "I thought I would be able to have sex with you. You were available." He doesn't say it callously, just matter-of-factly.

Why did he keep sleeping with me? He sighs. "I thought things would be different. I would think, 'This time Tanya is not going to behave in a crazed manner.' And you always did. After a while, you seemed very calm again, so I would sleep with you again. You were so persistent. You just knocked on the door until I opened it. I think the record was about an hour and a half. You were a bit like the Terminator."

He says it ended because he "finally realised that every time I slept with you, it unleashed a torrent of emotion that couldn't really be stopped by anyone, least of all me." He turns to me, and says, blinking through his glasses, "I am trying to make this sound nonjudgmental, but I think it is tragic that you would quite like to be married but you spend an awful lot of your time going in the other direction. But" - is this a shrug of guilt? - "we had fun, didn't we?"

I am sitting and looking at him, and thinking that I still want him. I want to kiss him. While we are being photographed, I roll on top of him. He takes it well, smiles, and pushes me off. "You'd have to work jolly hard to get me into bed now," he says.

He takes me to the shop to meet Jacqueline, his wife. She is small and slim, with short, brown hair. She seems unfazed about the article, very relaxed, and friendly. He has married the opposite of me. I find I feel no jealousy towards her, although I do feel a little towards his daughter, Emily, who sits in a cardboard box playing with a roll of toilet paper. He is wonderfully tender towards her. He drives me to the station, and waits on the platform to wave goodbye.

The sadness is growing, but I keep going. When I was 23 and drinking a bottle of vodka a day, I started having an affair with Nat, an enormously fat trust-fund boy. He was a kindly Jewish prince, who would purr, "You think you want to go around drinking, but really you want to marry me." I used to get drunk in his kitchen and try to make his lunch, drunkenly stabbing vegetables until he took away the knife. But I was looking for an abuser. I drank more and more and got angrier and angrier. One night I remember driving with him. It was raining over Cricklewood. I said, "Do you love me?" Nat stared at the road and said, "No." I ran out of the car on Mill Lane and never spoke to him again.

Last week, I emailed him and he rang me later that day. I was surprised by what he said. "I think about you all the time. I wanted to ring your mother and ask her how you were so many times, but I was so worried she would have to say, 'Tanya is dead.' "

Would you see me again? "I am desperately nervous about seeing you because I am worried I will fall in love with you again," he says. Nat always was a specialist in yearning. He is not interested in going out with women; he prefers to sit and yearn, and be despised. I don't like this; he is too like me.

He says he won't see me, but he starts ringing two or three times a day, and very late at night, as if the past 10 years never happened. This annoys me - I work now! Why don't you? He whispers into the phone in a way that feels very pornographic. He whispers, "I still masturbate over you. Do you remember the sex?" I try to whisper filth back but my fanny isn't in it.

I stop taking his calls.

I turn instead to the final man on my list. I met Tony at the conference of a minor and quite mad political party in 2004. I went outside and I saw this desiccated thing lying on the pavement, smoking.

Tony looked like no one I have ever seen. He was Rice Krispie-coloured; he had wide-spaced, green eyes, a large mouth and the most awful teeth rotting inside it. He was wearing an opera cloak and a monocle. I sat down next to him. He had a ridiculously posh, drawling voice, like a Disney villain.

He explained he was a writer - thrillers, non-fiction. Before I knew it, I was going to find a cheap hotel with this older man, his outfit flapping in the wind, as if he was a big, needy bat. The next morning we went out for breakfast, then sat in the gallery at the conference and held hands.

He began to ring me every day, sent long, romantic emails, and eventually lured me to his house in the country, a wonky old place that stank of tobacco.

We began to see each other all the time. I bought nice bedding and roast chickens and flowers every Friday night. We watched French movies and read novels. He got up in the morning and wrote poetry, ash from his roll-ups falling on to the carpet in a little pile. All he seemed to eat was meat, like a snake.

At the beginning of our relationship, he told me he went to orgies, and hinted that he wanted me to join him. I knew I couldn't do it: it would send me crashing into bottles of vodka. So I didn't. But he spoke to the depraved part of me.

Now, suddenly, he is standing at the door to my flat, as charming and sweet as ever. "Hello, Mary Poppins," he says. "I am here for a spot of deja spew." He sits down and I immediately just want to touch him. Why? I feel that if you cut him open, you would find maggots. But I still want him. My maggots want to mate with his maggots. My maggots are lonely. So I lay my head in his lap; he pulls my hair, and sighs. "Unfinished business."

He says, "You've put on weight." And within minutes, the black chemistry is back, and I find myself saying, "Move in with me, Tony. Stay." I think I am insane as I say it. He might be the love of my life. I just don't have much of a life.

And then he starts telling me an anecdote and I remember why it ended. "I was at a party last year where I saw a young girl dressed as Miss Muffet get fucked by 16 people."

On Christmas Eve, I arrived after a long train journey and was unpacking when I found a Polaroid of a naked woman on the dresser. She was lying on bedding that I had bought for him. I walked out and never came back.

We hold hands. Then I stroke his face, which still feels very soft, kiss his neck, and chuck him out.

And I weep. I have been meeting younger versions of myself. And I can see a pattern with a clarity that I never did before. It's out of my memory and on a page now: I am drawn to men who can't - or won't - reciprocate my feelings. I am a loser-cruiser. I am Carrie Bradshaw with an axe in her head.

So I call the man I have been referring to as "my boyfriend" for six months. He isn't really my boyfriend, of course; he is like the rest. He is living in Fulham with somebody else, the mother of his infant son. I say, I cannot see you any more. One day you are going to ring me up and tell me your girlfriend is pregnant again, and you will come round and tell me how much money you are spending on nappies. Then you will shag me, and I will hold your head and want to pull it off.

I do not want this, I say. Can I go and at least try to find Mr-Let's-Go-To-Ikea-And-Have-A-Child? Shall I try the Jewish guy in IT with the giant jaw? My mother's friend's cousin who is a solicitor? Perhaps with some more therapy...? He sighs down the phone. "I wish you'd go out with someone normal," he says. "Do you think you can?"

Pomegranates

2008-07-12T14:35:00.003-05:00

For the past few weeks, I have been wallowing in the comforts of girl-tv. The channel in question is called Cosmo, and it features amongst other things movies starring Julia Roberts, Colin Firth, Sandra Bullock and repeats of such uber-feminist gems such as Sex and the City, Charmed and Veronica Mars. It's completely addictive. And advertisements are awesome. It's clear who they're targeting. Women in need of the most technologically advanced pregnancy tests, wholewheat pasta and pomegranates. Pomegranates in everything: not just bevvies but hair dye and chewing gum. C'est fou!

Do you know if you misspell the name of the fruit, as I just did, your google query will bring up links explaining how to eat one? It may be have ascended to power food status, but the pomegranate still manages to leave people in the midwest slightly baffled. And that is awesome too.

Image: slashfoods.com

Cityfile

2008-07-07T23:54:00.005-05:00

Cityfile is the most compulsively readable encyclopedia site I have come across in a long time. Brash and highly personal, this site chronicles New York's most notable citizens, while making a few pointed exceptions. Julia Allison, anyone?

Will London earn its own file anytime in the future? Let's hope.

Tangerine Dream

2008-07-06T21:26:00.008-05:00

This evening I caught the promo for Mama Mia!, and my first thought was, 'Why is the girl from Big Love orange?' Upon closer inspection, I noticed the tangerine plague seemed to have spread to the rest of the cast. Meryl Streep, Colin Firth and Pierce Brosnan all looked like they'd been hit by the orange stick. In a rather uneven manner. Although I've always subscribed to the school of 'pale and interesting', I must confess that all this Mystic Tanning has me nostalgic for a good old-fashioned biscuity tan. The kind one would get, oh, I don't know, say in Greece.

Seriously, why isn't Lindsay Lohan starring in this?

Update: Saw the film and thought it was a giggle. A bit tough going at times but ultimately uplifting. Since AbFab went off the air, there's been a real dearth of perimenopausal women cavorting in sequins.

Summer Fruit

2008-07-02T12:42:00.003-05:00

Summer, I adore. Not only for the warm weather and sunshine, but also the longer days and shorter nights. The best part, however, has to be the fresh produce. I have been simply living on tomato sandwiches the past few days. Is there anything better than a vine-ripened tomato between two slices of bread? A bowl of dark cherries, perhaps. Yum.

Good Vibrations

2008-06-23T15:20:00.005-05:00

There is a new development in mascara. Two top end lines, Lancome and Estee Lauder, are introducing vibrating mascara applicators. Yes, for those of us who are too lazy to wriggle the applicator back and forth, technology finally provides an answer to our prayers. There is some science behind it, i.e. the movement puts more product on the lash, but it seems like yet another marketing scheme. I'm surprised no one has tried putting a clock on the tube . . . Forgive my cynicism. Finding the perfect mascara has been a lifelong endeavour. And I am not convinced that battery power is the answer.

This photo was ripped from an amazing tutorial I found on the Team Sugar blog, which explains how to recreate Marilyn Monroe's iconic look.

Update: At the moment, Voluminous Naturale is rocking my lash world. It goes on like a dream and comes off easily. No smudges. Perfection.

hello vélo

2008-06-10T13:11:00.004-05:00

Rising fuel prices have made me reconsider my preferred form of transportation. While I am lucky enough to own an extremely efficient vehicle, the bicycle is becoming a lot more attractive. Especially since speculation is rife that the oil market is being manipulated. I hate ugly greed, especially when perpetrated by corporations at the expense of the working classes. This seemingly leftist comment may seem out of character for a self-confessed consumer; however, I would argue that rising fuel costs mean that the average person's disposable income will continue to dwindle. Forget about buying cute shoes, one might be making serious compromises at the grocery store. Viva le marché libre. Or some such thing.

Porn for Women

2008-06-07T15:54:00.003-05:00

This is a great book that always makes me giggle. There is something hugely seductive about the sight of handsome men being helpful around the house. These women are genius!

Be Reckless

2008-06-06T21:14:00.005-05:00

At some point, I stopped feeling reassured by the valediction 'take care' and started feeling annoyed. It seems so sanctimonious, as if one is in need of being cautious. It seems to me a better way to sign off is: 'be reckless'. It definitely sounds like more fun.

SATC

2008-05-29T17:00:00.003-05:00

It's difficult to pick just one, but I think my favourite SATC episode of all time has to be from Season 3 when the girls go to LA and Carrie hooks up with Vince Vaugn's character. Not only does it feature Mr Sunshine but also a cameo from the incomparable Carrie Fisher. And it makes an interesting statement about the consumer culture of the late 1990s, in particular the status accessory, which in this instance is a faux Fendi bag.

Ice Ice, Baby

2008-05-20T20:27:00.000-05:00

Sometimes it seems like I'm the only one in the house who knows the recipe for ice. If it weren't for me refilling the trays, there would be no chilled goodness when it comes time to mix cocktails. Mmmm . . . cocktails

Matt

2008-04-28T15:17:00.000-05:00

I miss you so much.

The Drugs Don't Work

2008-02-26T11:33:00.006-06:00

Research conducted at Harvard has found that fresh flowers can reduce anxiety and depression. According to the study, the presence of flowers in the home had a positive effect on the subjects' feelings and attitudes, leading to greater compassion, increased energy and fewer feelings of anxiety and depression. Which is good news, since a new report published today asserts that Prozac and other SSRIs don't work. Speaking of Prozac, I wonder what Elizabeth Wurtzel thought when she read the report? I guess it doesn't make her look like a total chump. The research did concede that Prozac et al could still help the seriously depressed. The report recommends that drugs should be prescribed only if all other avenues, such as counselling, have failed.

Making Love Work

2008-02-13T08:54:00.001-06:00

The secret to keeping two lovers: divide up the duties

Linda Blair
Wednesday February 13, 2008

Guardian

Just imagine it. A younger lover to fulfil all your physical desires and another, more mature and settled partner to share your domestic bliss, even take delight in running the home and in raising your offspring. Doesn't that sound ideal?

Tilda Swinton, 47, who appeared at the Baftas on Sunday with artist Sandro Kopp, 29, recently said of her partner, 68-year-old director and artist John Byrne, "We ostensibly live in the same house, but I travel the world with another delightful painter. The arrangement is just so sane."

A moment's sober reflection brings you to the conclusion that "ideal" is exactly what this is. Surely, no one can be truly content to stay at home while their partner enjoys lust and leisure elsewhere? Surely, a stay-at-home partner must feel jealous?

Not according to Byrne, who has told reporters: "We're amicably living together in the same house, under the same roof. It's extraordinary. We love each other too, in an extraordinary way."

Human beings are remarkable for their diversity, and that includes the vast range of relationships we can create and maintain. And the most important ingredient in any relationship is a good matching of needs. That is, the sum total of everyone's needs must be met within the relationship. This is a rarity within any relationship - almost never does one person meet all the needs of their partner. Most of us either simply accept that some of our needs will go unmet, or we fulfil them - usually, the less controversial ones - outside our primary relationship.

But another way to resolve this mismatch is to fulfil some of your desires with one person, and the rest with someone else, ensuring that all parties are aware of, and happy with, this arrangement.

An important factor in a successful tripartite setup - as indeed in any more conventional relationship - is open and honest communication. Any secrets in this often delicate arrangement have the potential to create a sense of betrayal that can damage the relationship at least as much as the pain of jealousy. And speaking of jealousy, it has no place in a happy tripartite relationship. Jealousy is about possession, and not wanting to share.

In summary, then, for anyone thinking of entering into and maintaining a happy relationship with not just one but two others, I suggest that you begin by finding two individuals whose needs meet yours, and who don't feel jealous of one another. Once you have managed this feat, you'll need vast amounts of time and energy to keep things running smoothly. I leave it to you to decide whether it's worth the effort.

guardian.co.uk © Guardian News and Media Limited 2008

Simple Solution

2008-02-11T21:32:00.000-06:00

For reasons known only to herself, my greyhound occasionally pees on the carpet. Not ever day, not every week, but every now and again. It doesn't matter if she's been out for a walk or cooped up in the house. She pees on a patch of carpet near the front window then slinks off. I have yet to catch her doing this. Until then, I am left to clean up the mess. I searched the web and found recommendations for Simple Solution. I tried it yesterday, and although the patch isn't quite dry yet, it did seem to help. It picked up the old stains and took care of the odour. Fingers crossed it will lift the stain completely.

Shuttle Launch

2008-02-07T19:37:00.000-06:00

Today marked the successful launch of the latest NASA shuttle. It's a bittersweet moment, because I saw the shuttle on the launchpad a few months ago in better times. Much has changed since then.

Roasted Vegetables

2008-02-05T07:59:00.000-06:00

Stripped of my usual comforts, I have had a difficult few days adjusting to life on the South Beach diet. Yes, I feel more energetic. Yes, I am fizzing with vitamins, fibre and leafy goodness. But I miss the soft calm feeling that only carbs can bring.

Image: www.epicurious.com

Did She Have Some Work Done?

2008-01-22T15:31:00.000-06:00

Is it just me, or does Kathy Bates look a little fresher? No one seems to have commented, but then it has been a busy week for gossip. And to be honest, we don't seem to care much as a culture about women who fail to conform to current beauty norms, i.e. young, can-tanned and filled with plastic. Loved her to death in Dolores Clairborne.

Photo: Wire Image

Late-Night Tequila Shots

2008-01-18T19:14:00.000-06:00

While the bf dozes, I am still awake. Had a major anxiety attack for no apparent reason--other than the million things stressing me out right now. Why is it that when my head hits the pillow all my worries seem to float up to the surface? I'm sipping tequila out of a bar shot glass, hoping I can numb myself and get some sleep. We have an early morning flight tomorrow for Espana. To be honest, I would rather stay home and get some work done. It's supposed to be a b-day treat for my other; however, as he has made known in word and deed, it is not exactly what he'd hoped for. Tell me about it. I thought I would be married by now, and I'm still waiting for a fucking confirmation of that proposal received three years ago. Sigh . . .

Tragic but the tequila is easing the pain. Isn't that the first sign of alcoholism? Or is the seventh? I can't remember.

The Man I Love

2008-01-18T02:15:00.000-06:00

I've been crushing on this man for years. He haunts my dreams. Or at least the characters he portrays on tv do. I'm not going to stalk the man. Yeesh.

Tropical Beauty

2008-01-16T19:19:00.000-06:00

This Christmas, I spent my holidays in Florida. It was my first experience in a tropical setting and I must say it was a beautiful one. Having grown up facing harsh weather, I cannot believe the difference a little sun and sand make to one's appearance. I felt relaxed and confident. So far the bloom has lasted despite the rainy weather we've been having in the UK. Now that I've had a taste of the tropics, there's no stopping me.

Master Cleanse Cocktail

2008-01-06T18:54:00.000-06:00

Post-holidays, I decided it was time to take action and go on a cleansing fast. I picked the lemonade diet, aka the master cleanse, since it was easiest. In order to help the cause, I cleaned out my fridge and cupboards. Long story short, I broke the fast with a pizza. My pantry being bare didn't leave too many options for aperitifs. Necessity being the mother of invention, I created the master cleanse cocktail. Here is the recipe. It's fucking kick-ass.

Juice from one freshly squeezed lemon
Equal parts maple syrup and plain vodka
Mix well and pour over ice

Photo: www.jupiterimages.com

Practical Princess

2008-01-05T04:03:00.000-06:00

From The Times
January 5, 2008

The woman who remade Tamara Mellon's closets
Coolhunter mets the woman whom the Jimmy Choo creator says "changed my life". But can an organised closet mean a better life?
Organised knicker drawer

Tina Gaudoin

Practical Princess comes highly recommended. “She changed my life,” enthuses the elegant accessories tsar Tamara Mellon over pre-lunch drinks, But then if you had a wardrobe the size of Winchester, you might be glad of the help. “Oooh,” says the good-natured Mellon, “it’s not that large.” The girl beside her chokes on her champagne cocktail. “It’s not,” she shrieks. “It’s even bigger.”

Elika Gibbs, aka “the Practical Princess”, says she saw the future while toiling in the Mellon closets. “I thought, it actually doesn’t matter how big or how small your wardrobes are – we’re all busy, we all need organising.” How right she is. Lest you think this is another one of those fascist fashion columns (I’m guilty – I wrote one once) about how to chuck out all your clobber, it’s not. Gibbs doesn’t believe in diktats. “If you like it, then you keep it,” she says. “It’s how and where you keep it that counts.” She insists on seeing my wardrobes, which I gamely resist for about five minutes. “You must,” urges Mellon. “You have to experience the difference.”

Gibbs arrives early one Monday morning like a leggy blonde lurcher in a parka. She is all action. A deputy Practical Princess wades in behind her bearing boxes of Gibbs’s own coat hangers, shoe boxes, etc. My biggest issue with PP, other than the fact that I’ve had to chuck out a few really revolting things from my closet before she arrives, is that the majority of us cannot afford a wardrobe makeover – Gibbs charges £450 per day for her services. “Aha,” says Gibbs. “That’s where you are wrong.” Her website offers tips and insights into how to effect a sea change in your closet. “And you can buy the hangers, boxes and scented drawer liners – they are not expensive.” And with that PP goes to work.

A few hours later I return to a transformed wardrobe. Gibbs waves a massive bag of metal coat hangers at me. “These are the heroin of storage,” she exclaims. “They ruin everything.” Knickers line up like Coldstream Guards at the Palace; shoes are boxed. Later, she sends me pictures of the shoes via e-mail to print out and stick on (you can buy the software on her website). “It’s a matter of common sense,” says PP, who has organised my wardrobe into colours – all the black, navy, grey and brown dresses, cardigans and coats hang together. Gosh. Do I really not have any colour in there? “Well,” says Gibbs pragmatically, “I always say that once a wardrobe is organised, you can see what’s missing.”

The joy of PP is that not only can you see your clothes, but you can appreciate them. My honeymoon (now vintage) Louis Vuitton luggage peeks proudly from the top of the shelf. I hate to admit it, but Gibbs has changed my life, too. You could do a lot worse than going to www.practicalprincess.com and taking her advice… We all need a Practical Princess in our lives. I feel a TV series coming on.

coolhunter@thetimes.co.uk

Natural Instincts

2007-10-17T15:20:00.000-05:00

Those of you who read Allure have already heard the rave reviews about this product. Let me add my voice to the chorus. I'm a reluctant at-home dyer, but after a few disappointing and overpriced experiences at the local salon, I decided to go it alone. Other products are smelly, messy and gloopy. This one is a pleasure to use. The colour covered those pesky greys and was an absolute delight to use. Unless I decide to go lighter, I see no reason to give up the at-home treatments.

Highly recommended!

Shaving Tips

2007-05-15T11:20:00.000-05:00

I love the look and feel of smooth legs. But I hate most depilatories on the market. So you can understand why my heart skipped a beat when I went on Amazon and saw a banner ad promising to zap my legs hair free forever. I checked it out, but it looks like a gimmick.

Hate to say it, but the razor is the way. It's quick and convenient plus it does a nice job of exfoliating the skin. I was staying chez the bf and didn't have my gear with me. I borrowed his razor and discovered something even better than the Venus. The Mach III rocks. And a shout out to L'Occitane Cade After Shave Balm. It smells so yummy!

Ode to a Torso

2007-04-26T05:42:00.000-05:00

Is there anything more attractive than the torso? It literally is the trunk of our body, connecting our head to our heart, our legs to our gut and our arms to ourselves. I'm a big fan of a fitted shirt, like this one from the gap. It looks so fresh, so young, so polished. With age or inactivity, our torsos disappear beneath a layer of fat and bloat. Reclaim the torso, relinquish the sugary snack. Be healthy! And, as an added bonus, belly fat is the easiest to lose. Or so says the author of South Beach Diet.

Facing Spring

2007-04-25T06:50:00.000-05:00

What is it about spring? Hope starts rising and the sap starts running. The air feels delicious. Possibilities abound. After a long dirty winter, I feel reborn. Of course, this rebirth is facilitated in part by the following fab products.

Blistex Tint and Shine I found this in my local Super Drug a few months ago. I'd switched purses in the morning and forgotten to transfer all my essentials into the new bag. I picked this up on a whim and have bought two more since then so I'm never caught without it. The colour is very subtle but it perks up a pale face without looking too obvious. When applied, I find it tingles a bit. This may not be to the taste of all users, especially those with sensitive skin. My mother tried it after seeing it on me, and she said it did sting a bit. That said, it's the perfect thing to swipe across your lips for a little moisture and colour. Blistex has always been my default choice for lip care products. I always have a tub of MedPlus close to hand at home. Of all the brands available, I find Blistex is the least likely to cause irritation or create dependency issues. Some lip balms seem to suck all the moisture out of the lips, leaving the user desperate for one fix after another. The only quibble I have is with packaging, but for £2.25, it seems churlish to complain.

Clarins Moisture Quenching Hydra-Care Lotion
I picked this up at Easter whilst crossing the Channel. Sounds very glam, but if you've been on one of these ferries, you know the reality is quite different. Needless to say, the onboard shop was a bit of a scrum. What I was really looking for was the hydra-care serum. I'd read Hannah Betts rave in the Saturday Times edition. My skin is classic combination, but I was looking for something to cure the dry patches I get, quite literally, from the tracks of my tears. The bf can be quite a bastard sometimes. Unfortunately, the serum wasn't in stock so I picked up the lotion instead. Good thing too because it's been an absolute godsend. The stuff is genius. It's very light but soothing, leaving my skin feeling soft and fresh. It has an SPF 15 as well, which is better than nothing. For those of you with combo skin, you know how difficult it is to find a lotion that satisfies the dry patches without irritating the t-zone. The lotion is oil-free, which is probably why I haven't had any break outs. Highly recommended but I will have to revise my opinion as the weather gets warmer. Clarins has a nice range of products. I've recently made the switch from Clinique, and I'm very pleased with most of what I've tried. The Water Comfort one-step cleanser is very nice. I find the standard moisturizes a bit rich for my skin, but the sensitive line and hydra care are perfect. And I love that the Clarins staff is generous with free samples. I travel a lot, so the miniatures come in very handy.

Bobbi Brown Moisture Rich Foundation This woman is amazing. I know the overall aesthetic a bit retro--think 90's nude/no make-up make-up--but the product itself is genius. I've never had much success with foundation. Either the shade or the consistency is off. When I was a teenager, I didn't mind so much. Apart from the occasional spot, I had pretty amazing skin. Now I'm starting to get older and I need something to get the red out, ease over the rough patches and in general make me look the way a good night's sleep used to. Bobbi Brown's moisturizer does all this. I have turned into one of those women who needs to 'do her face' in the morning, but in a good way. You'll pay more for this than you would for a drug store brand, but it is worth it. The website seems to be up and running now. When I visited the counter at Selfridges, the staff were very helpful and quite kind in dealing with customers. They were very patient with two young tweens, sending them away with free samples.

Faux Fashion Wisdom

2007-04-24T07:46:00.000-05:00

High-Waisted Trousers A bit of an obvious choice to start with, but hear me out. I think that, given the right fabric, cut and figure, high-waisted trousers can be very hot. Think navy jersey or crepe on a whippet thin body, and it's fresh but classic. It evokes the best of Chanel and early twentieth-century sportswear. The wrong cut and fabric, even on a 00 frame, can make the wearer look like she's swathed in diapers. So not hot.

Colour makes me squeamish. I know it's a good thing. The all-black wardrobe signals a lack of imagination rather than a surfeit of sophistication. But colour can look so cheap. Unless the fabric and style are spot-on, your fancy bright-coloured tunic can look like it came from the bargain bin rather than the boutique. Coloured leather makes me especially nervous. Yellow shoes look so nasty with a week's worth of city grime. I think colour works on the beach and at the weekend. In a silk or other fabulous material, it makes a great statement in the evening. As always with colour, choosing what flatters your skin rather than what's features on the racks will always keep you on the right side of fashion.

White Sunglasses I think this is a seriously awesome trend. Awesome as in fear-inducing. Fashion has been pretty safe for a long time. Now with the whole retro 80's vibe going we're finally starting to see some bold statements. Some work and some don't. White sunglasses work for about .99999 % of the population. The rest of us will be cringing every time we see our digi snaps from the summer of 2006. Speaking of sunglasses, I find the whole oversized vibe fascinating. Like big bags and even bigger coffee cups, this trend seems to exist for one reason only. And that's to make the girl-child wearing or carrying them look even smaller.

Leggings I wore these the first time round, so this trend is pretty tired for me. I had great pair of vintage stirrup pants that belonged to my mother. I think that look rocked pretty hard. What I hate most about leggings is the singular lack of imagination they show. And the fact that they look pretty rubbish. Plus if they're not made from breathable material, they can give you thrush, which is never fashion forward.

Fur We knew this one had to come back. I grew up in Canada, where it's seriously cold for half of the year. When I was a teenager, I went through a kick of buying vintage furs. Persian lamb was my absolute favourite. I wore it with leggings and loafers, which sounds tragic, but made me feel pretty wicked cool at the time. With my sunglasses and cigarettes, I seriously felt like I was channelling the best of Edie Sedgwick. Ah. Good times. I have a number of objections to fur, some ethical others aesthetic. For one, I think you need to live somewhere sub-zero before you can even contemplate a fur coat. Second, you need to be an uber-woman. Britney, Mary-Kate Ashley, et al, look like little kids playing dress up. They're just not femme enough to pull it off. If you're going to wear fur, your bod needs to be seriously lush. I doubt any of those girls have enough body fat to menstruate regularly.

Black Silk Cardigan

2007-04-23T12:42:00.001-05:00

It's starting to feel like summer, but the evenings are a bit chilly. I've been hunting for a black silk cardigan, and I haven't been able to find anything. Even reduced to searching on ebay and found a bunch of random overpriced designer stuff. One woman is selling all of this allegedly top-end merch for half price. I don't think ebay is the place to unload Alexander McQueen. Anyway, it's such a drag to have to struggle to find simple pieces like this.

French Connection

2007-04-14T02:55:00.000-05:00

Went to France for Easter and expected to find great deals on cosmetics. Not the case. Clarins et al was the same price or even more. What gives? I thought that the French had sorted out the price?

From The Times | March 15, 2006
Perfume cartel fined £32m | Leading cosmetics companies & distributors adopted heavy-handed tactics to keep prices high

By Adam Sage

THEY are among the most famous names in cosmetics, linked with elegance, refinement and romance, enveloped in the enticing smell of luxury.

Yesterday an altogether more unpleasant odour clung to the world’s biggest manufacturers of perfume and make-up after a damning report of their commercial practices in France. They were denounced by the French antitrust authority for colluding in maintaining high prices to the detriment of consumers.

At the end of an extensive inquiry, the French Competition Council fined 13 of the leading brands in the global cosmetics industry and 3 of their French distribution chains a total of €46.2 million (£32 million) for price fixing.

In its ruling, the council said that the manufacturers had adopted heavy-handed methods to force up prices and stamp out discounts for well-known perfumes and make-up.

Among the famous names denounced in the ruling were L’Oréal, which was fined €4.1 million; Chanel, €3 million; Christian Dior, €2.2 million; Yves Saint Laurent, €1.8 million; Guerlain, €1.7 million; and Elco, which markets Clinique and Estée Lauder, € 1.6 million.

Three French distribution chains were also condemned for colluding in the price-fixing arrangements. They were Marionnaud, bought last year by the A S Watson group, which was fined €12.8 million; LVMH’s chain, Sephora, fined €9.4 million; and the privately owned retailer Nocibé, fined €6.2 million. LVMH, which also owns four of the perfume brands fined by the council — Christian Dior, Guerlain, Givenchy and Kenzo — said that it would appeal. In a statement, the antitrust authority said: “Each of these brands agreed with its distributors that each product should be sold in the shops at the same price, effectively eliminating any possibility of competition between sales points.

“Each agreement was accompanied by the creation of a price police, consisting of controls on the prices practised, pressures and threats of commercial reprisals against distributors who refused to apply the prices imposed by the brand.”

The council said that cosmetics manufacturers had argued that they needed to maintain prices to defend their “image of luxury”. But it continued: “This absence of competition . . . enabled all of them to increase and then share out the surplus obtained to the detriment of the consumer.” The council’s 133-page report detailed the evidence accumulated during its investigation into price fixing between 1997 and 2000.

It said that cosmetics manufacturers had sent letters to distributors complaining of “abnormally low prices”, and threatening vendors that refused to increase prices with “delivery delays” and “repeated errors”. Other vendors were told that deliveries would be stopped altogether. One shop complained of “insidious” pressure, with frequent spot checks on prices. A shop in Lyons is quoted as saying of Christian Dior: “The threats were clear. If we sold for more than 10 per cent under the recommended price, Dior would cut the brand out.”

An internal memo at Chanel about a discount sale in Paris said that the company’s legal department was furious and advised “frightening” shopowners. Another internal note at Thierry Mugler perfumes said that the price of a 100ml bottle had been fixed at Fr590 — about £59. “This price, being unofficial, must never be stated on any document or letter from our company. It must only be communicated orally.” Yves Saint Laurent contacted a perfume distributor to complain about its low prices. “After a telephone conversation, the customer has agreed to eliminate all discounts,” a company memo said.

In cases affecting British consumers, the Office of Fair Trading has the power to punish companies that exhibit anti-competitive behaviour. It can impose sanctions or apply for the disqualification of directors. Where it thinks there is a danger to competition, it will refer the merger or industry to the Competition Commission.

backlash

2007-03-16T07:07:00.000-05:00

Is it just me or is anyone else fed up with monster mascara? I reached the breaking point a few weeks ago when a misfire with Lancome Fatale left me looking like I'd just suffered a fatal blow. And if I'm honest, even at the best of times, under ideal application conditions, these lengthening mascaras have a tendency to clump like a country cousin going up stairs. So I picked up a tube of Great Lash by Maybelline at Boots and am loving the low-key look. As a bonus, it's much easier to take off at night.

Pleather

2007-03-08T13:31:00.000-06:00

Whilst under the influence of this week's spring-like weather, I picked up a new handbag. It's a lovely light brown item made from pleather. Very ethical, very light, very nice. But very, very slippery. Unlike its counterpart, pleather blissfully slides off the shoulder, slips off the lap and in general shimmies all over the place. It's kind of annoying.

Singapore Sling: The Original Alcopop

2007-03-01T15:41:00.000-06:00

Am stuck in the hellacious midlands on a work-related jaunt. Hotel room is beyond grim, so I stopped at the local M&S for a little light refreshment. The shop had run out of my first choice--g & t (nasty but nice once you knock back your second)--so I plumped for a Singapore Sling instead. I'm on my second and it tastes pretty delish. But if I'm brutally honest, it is a bit of a chemical cocktail, literally!

Wiki tells me the drink was created in the early 20th Century at Raffles Hotel in Singapore. I kind of knew that somewhere in the deep dark drink-related recesses of my mind. I love this pic I purloined from the net--very art deco. Am feeling somewhat soft-angled at the moment. Should move from the couch to the bed in case I pass out. But first, a toast to Charlotte Church and Gavin whatisname, aka Mr. Scrummy. May their child be fortunate and fair!

Spring 2007: Brought to You by the Colour Green

2007-02-22T11:12:00.000-06:00

What is it with the colour green this season? Every mass-market shop I've been in seems to be flogging stuff in the exact same shade. I noticed it again today while in the M&S food hall. They're selling a nasty pair of leather heels in corrugated green leather. Too much! Now these shoes, I love!

300

2007-02-19T12:53:00.000-06:00

Saw the trailer for 300 today. It looks lush. If I had it to do all over again, I think I'd want to be an art director. What better way to spend a life than making things look incredible?

Britney

2007-02-18T06:43:00.000-06:00

It's very sad to witness, even at a remove, the pain and suffering Britney seems to be going through. I hope the girl finds her way to better soon. And I also hope that the public can show her some much needed kindness. Clearly, things haven't been good for a long time, and it's not fair for the media or her fans to lay any kind of expectations on her. I miss the healthy, happy Britney, but as far as I'm concerned, I'd rather see her retire than try to fake her way back to how she used to be.

Desire v Reality

2007-01-23T11:01:00.000-06:00

WaNt: The deliciously ruched chocolate brown leather shoulder bag from Prada.
ReaLity: As determined by my current fiscal situation: a nasty knock-off from Mum's and Spencer.

Dirty Snow Day

2007-01-23T10:52:00.000-06:00

I am still deep in the January blahs. The bf has found himself a whole new wardrobe in the seasonal sales, but I have refused to enter the breach. I've restocked my lingerie drawer at full price. It was the principle of the matter. Who wants to grub around in a bargain bin for pants? Actually . . . I can think of a few people who would pay money to participate in that particular scenario.

Am eagerly anticipating the spring especially in the biting cold of January. Spring with its warm breezes, sweet scents and stirring promise of sex, sex, sex.