J.Con--What The Fug?

I just have a quick question.

What the HECK is going on with Jennifer Connelly's face? Look at it for a minute.

Don't get me wrong, I've loved her ever since Labyrinth, but homegirl seems to be having some serious symmetry issues.

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The Simpsons Movie Premiere

So I know people who know people. I don't actually know people myself. Except for the people I know, and then I know those people. But these people I don't know personally, I know people they know personally.

That being explained, I went to the Simpson's Movie Premiere last night and it was a lot of fun. Lot's of "B"-list-ers sitting all around, young hipsters, and old grumpy execs that were pissed that they were sitting in tiny seats with the rest of us hoodlums in the back of the theater. It was hard at times to hear the movie for the broken egos falling to the floor.

I walked the red (yellow in this case) carpet. People looked at me like, "Who is that? She looks familiar..." (It's because I am blond and thin and look like everyone else in LA. But the natural nose and small-ish boobs give me away every time..."oh she's nobody.")

I sat in the hellishly small seats and waved at people I thought I knew, turns out they were childhood stars and hipster-friend look-a-likes. I do that a lot in fact. I say "hi" to people I think I know, turns out they were on my favorite show or movie when I was a child. It's so embarrassing. There was stale popcorn (free, how generous) and extra small sodas (also free) which made me laugh because it just seemed ridiculous to have a party for Hollywood and for there to be NO WATER. My favorite part of the whole night (besides two other favorite parts that I will get to) was the cell phone debacle. It said very clearly on the invitation, "NO CELL PHONES ALLOWED" for fear of pirating the movie. It couldn't have been clearer. But everyone in Hollywood thinks they are above the law, and there was a line for miles of idiot execs that had to pick up their cell phones from the valet after the movie.

The movie started just on time, an hour and a half late. The movie itself was a lot of fun. Again, this isn't a kids show--just because it is animated doesn't automatically mean it is for children. Just like Hanna Montana is not for adults you sickos. I cracked up at the really inappropriate parts (jokes about black being the worst color)...and seemed to be the only one laughing. The jokes that really got the crowd were the old-school, Homor-esque (as in Simpson, bien sur) hilarity that always gets that animated man into trouble. Bart was sweeter than I remember him. Lisa catches a break, and Maggie saves the day. Flanders has a big role...and so does Jesus. There are jabs at religion, intolerance, and political figures and the EPA that make the Simpson's legitimate.

Moving on to the after party.

The food was crap. The party was fun though. I was introduced to the man himself, Matt Groening (he is who the people I know, know-geddit?) and his good friend Gail Zappa. I met his gf with the same name. And then we sat down waiting for him to come to the table. He never made it. Rather we ate pink doughnuts and drank Duff beer (Tecate) and watched the shortest men in Hollywood vye for Matt's attention. Women were flirting. Dogs were bowing to a man that probably 10 years ago couldn't get a date. Ahhh...that's Hollywood for you.

I sat and talked to one very kind Gail Zappa the whole night, trying my best to figure out if her Zappa was THE Zappa (yes). She tried to find her daughter Diva Thin Muffin to introduce us--seems we are the same age. Then my companion CP wanted to go see the dance floor on our way out. As I told her under no uncertain terms was I going to dance with the 12, drunken men that were on the floor writhing as though they were in a movie themselves; she turned on a dime straight into a man that looked oh so familiar, "you look like someone I know...."

"I'm Larry Birkhead."

"Oh."

.:tt:.

Mrs. Jagger in London

WELL!

No sooner do I read in InStyle about how white wedding suits a la Bianca Jagger's are again in vogue (she wore the iconic one, a supremely low-cut jacket and trousers, with a fabulous white hat) do I receive an invitation to join her for dinner. No matter why--let's just say that while she may once have been known for this:

and for looking like this:

and for causing people to say things like "Remember the night Bianca Jagger rode into Studio 54 on a white horse?"...

she's now quite the international human rights activist and political figure. I tried to talk fashion with her for a moment, and she quickly steered the conversation back to Nicaraguan government. As she should--that's clearly the more pressing topic, and I'm really in awe of the woman now for refusing to sit back on her popstar laurels and instead really making a second career about something other than herself.

Also, I'd be amiss in leaving out the restaurant. Even trusty Toscana, Italian landmark of Brentwood, doesn't turn out delicacies like the shoestring zucchini fries we started with at this place (Sandalini or something--I'll have to fact-check that one), the cheese-filled zucchini blossoms, handmade pasta, and the startling fruits scooped out and filled with gorgeous sorbets at the end. They say the Brits aren't really foodies, but the past few days here have proven more than otherwise.

In the immortal words of middle-schoolers, TTFN...I've got to pack for Paris.

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This Is Why, I'm a Chef

Because I'm the sane one in a world of crazies like this guy:



(click on picture to find out why.)

.:tt:.

Stars & Spirits: The Latest

Helloooo, boys and girls! Granny RR is here today to dispense some invaluable wisdom. If you haven't gone to church this morning, the next best thing is the church of 5%C.

The Celeb Update:
Friday was a great day for me at the store. I was very popular. Not only did several friends stop by, but at one point, a salesgirl came back and said, "Uh, Rach, do you know Jenna Elfman? She wants to see you." No WAY. This must be a mistake! So I go out, see the very adorably pregnant Jenna, and she lights up and goes "Oh HI! TT [who works down the street, where Jenna had just been shopping] said to make sure and say Hi to you!" Awesome. We had a little chat, and I managed to keep myself from shrieking, "Dharma is the greatest!" She was a sweetheart, too.

The Music Update:
Listen to Pavement's "Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain" on Sunday morning. Good idea. I think anyway.

The Food Update:
Elderflower Modified Mimosas. Combine champagne, St. Germain elderflower liqueur and pineapple juice. Hot damn, girl, that's a winner.

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"Hills" Fashion? Umm...

Did anyone else catch this headline news back on March 7?

MTV Networks and Lauren Conrad -- the star of MTV's popular series "The Hills" -- today announce the first-ever celebrity-inspired digital fashion line to be introduced in the Virtual Hills virtual world.

Yes, that's right, good ole LC designed a line of clothing. And it doesn't surprise me that it's a line for digital avatars--when the girl tries to design for real people, it's a train wreck. When she tried to do a line for Sienna Miller in my sketching class last fall, it was laughable. Come on, man, if you can't dress Miss Miller, who CAN you dress? Oh wait--I guess that's what happens when MTV pays a girl who never wanted to be a designer to change her major from business to fashion design. Silly me. Silly MTV. They're working it, though:

The introduction of Lauren's physical and virtual world fashion lines takes the concept of personal expression to new heights for a generation of viewers who take their online persona as seriously as their real-worldpresence. Reflecting the casual yet smart aesthetic of her real-worldattire, the virtual clothing line inspired by Lauren will make its debut in Virtual Hills (http://www.virtualhills.mtv.com), where fans will be able to buy clothes with in-world currency. As Lauren continues to design her real-world line, she will look for feedback from virtual world patrons to help tailor the styles that make their way to boutiques later this year, a benefit of her close relationshipwith fans in Virtual Hills.

Good luck, Lauren; from what I've seen, most of the feedback left by your faithful Virtual Hills fans consists of, "I lvoe the hills it is great i think stephen and his gf should get married. are you getting back with jason lauren?" No wonder we've heard nothing since March about her "in-world" (good lord) clothing line. Also, the problem with designing clothes that look like the clothes you already have is that you can't sell them to the stores where you bought the original ones in the first place. Damn!

Sorry, I'm getting distracted by idiocy. Onto the more recent news: not only can you dress your virtual Bev-Hills-crawling avatar in LC-inspired clothes... you can now do all your real-life shopping at MTV as well, with the SeenOn! MTV Store!!!!! They sell outfits inspired by episodes (example: the charming number at right.) So basically, you can now live THE MOST AWESOME LIFE EVER: watch "The Hills" on TV, hop online to reenact the episode in fake Beverly Hills with a fake character who you made hotter than you, plunk down some cash for fake clothes for fake-hot-you, and then, when your evil mom finally makes you leave the rec room and venture outside the house ("fresh air," your ass), you can do it WEARING TOTALLY FABULOUS CLOTHES JUST LIKE LC AND HEIDI AND WHOEVER ELSE, that you ALSO bought online WITH MOM'S MASTERCARD! Omg omg the hills ruuuuuuuulez!


*Note: Look how wrinkly LC is in the photo! She really is that wrinkly. Tanning kills, kids.


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Table 8, A Review

I've not posted a review lately. And this review, I should confess, is NOT AT ALL UNBIASED. If it were awful I couldn't say it was awful.

Luckily for me, it wasn't awful, but alas, I can't say it was awful because the Executive Chef is a friend of mine. Of course they may become friends with me because they know I'm a sucker. But I will also admit that I'm a snob and wouldn't be friends with a bad chef. So what I'm trying to say is that my word is still golden.

I entered and said to the maitre d', "Hi I'm .:tt:. and I have a reservation." His eyes lit up and he said, "Oh Govind's friend! Welcome!" See? It's fun being me!

We are ushered to the bar and enjoy a couple of glasses of prosecco and a few chef's amususes. We are amused indeed. Chef comes in--a handsome gent that is famous for being great looking. He's not cooking tonight--he's just back from Miami (where they have placed another Table 8). He comes to our rescue, as we have booked on the busiest night since they reopened. He snaps his fingers and a table opens up.

One of my dining companions brought a nice bottle of wine, so we start with that. We order the first and main course at the same time--which a good restaurant should be able to pull off...most in LA can not. How hard is it to hold the main course for 30 minutes?

Let me tell you some observations that made the evening; first the staff understands that a good evening happens when everyone is having fun. So there isn't a table? Offer good food and wine and company until there is a table. But my favorite thing of all? There were three of us, and all of the courses came with the main ingredient in sets of three. Three pieces of duck, six scallps, etc...I've said it before--the dining room should always accommodate the client--if there were four scallops who would get the last one?

So I'll get down to it--the food is so elegant and tasty--there was nothing to complain about. The Chef de Cusine (runs the kitchen in that particular location--the Executive Chef oversees all operations of both) is Jason Wildman.

We had the Chorizo and Clams, Seared Scallops and Braised Veal Cheeks to start. All very yummy--it's hard to say which was my favorite--but if I HAD to choose, I would say the Veal Cheeks.

I loosened the belt and settled in for a main course. The chef stopped by the table to see how things were going and realized it was time for more wine. At this point--my head spinning from lots of wine, food, and attention I don't remember what we drank--but it was good.

The main course came after we digested a little--not too hurried. For this course we enjoyed the Lamb (and I told my lamb story--have I told you yet?), the Duck Breast, and The Pork. It was all fabulous--I even liked the lamb!

Dessert was a creamy and delicate panna cotta and warm cookies. More wine and some coffee. And the night came to a close. Well sort of...

.:tt:.

Order Govind Armstrong's book here. Really. Do.

Fashion Week/end

First of all, mad props to my co-conspirator for her lovely Bloom menu last night ("lesser half?" Only in height, my dear.). The food was creative yet still very Vietnamese, and the sharp grapefruit sorbet was seriously inspired. And as for the design element, since that's my realm here, we actually noticed how well-designed the restaurant was--pleasing minimalist environment and neat proportions (high tables with tall chairs, high ceilings, potted trees, big spacy wall designs). It was exactly what Beau and I agreed we'd have expected from looking at the invitation; i.e. Bloom is doing a bang-up job of branding itself. Look at what those marketing classes have done to me--I'm all talkin' like a G.D. ad exec.

In other news, I know I've been brief and sporadic with my updates-that-are-really-just-celeb-sightings, but I've been insanely busy with my new full-time job as head of sales and promotions and junk for this boutique's online store. It's far more hectic than I'd imagined and my to-do list gets longer each day. It's been consistently interesting, though, and there's tons of dirt I'd love to spill here (Nicole Richie drama! etc!) but am too paranoid to actually transcribe. But oh gosh--SO MUCH INTRA-OFFICE DRAMA.
Seriously SO MUCH! None of it really involves me, though it's hard not to get sucked into it. Suffice it to say that when my New York boss came for a weeklong visit last week, her intense vigilance ("she's looking so hard over my houlder she's practically riding piggyback) brought things practically to a breaking point. Now she's back in Le Apple Grande, but hardly away; today I spent ungodly amounts of time going through her hundreds of photos from Paris Fashion Week, rotating them all 90 degrees, and burning them onto CDs to be FedExed--Priority Overnight--to her apartment. It was almost sad, going through these scads of not-yet-available-to-the-public garments from Stella McCartney (like the dress below), Pierre Hardy, Chloe, and god knows who else, but not being able to register the gorgeous things flicking past my eyes because I had no time to stop and take a look.


Let's just say, though, that we've hardly seen the end of babydoll/empire/loose dresses, and that "sacklike" is definitely the word du jour for fall. There are also some wicked glossy pumps with platforms in front, notably from Stella, that will catch everyone's eye come summer (when, naturally, the fall collections arrive in stores). Does anyone really still shop ahead for a season? I know that I basically buy as I go, with an item or two each month as I can't hold off any longer; I'd never, though, attempt to buy it all at the start. What if styles changed and I'd guessed wrong? What if everyone in the universe had what I'd gotten, and I ended up feeling like the equivalent of a girl wearing a micromini and Uggs who walked through the USC campus? I can't imagine anyone in this era buying a season at a time. Except, perhaps, ladies like the ridiculously refined woman I've been helping with her store orders. She sent her request for an exchange on heavy, embossed monogrammed cardstock. After my usual countless e-mails back and forth, I could barely believe that someone had actually picked up a pen to write to me (surely, in this case, a gold-nib custom-made fountain pen). Naturally, she's from Alabama and has a totally stereotypical Southern-belle name. Those girls from down South--wish I dealt with more of those instead of legions of harried New York chicks.
Speaking of Southerners, I've been carrying on quite the correspondence with LeAnn Rimes. She thanks me every time I send her a note! Aww. How very very. Better than Mischa Barton, ungrateful wretch...she wandered into the store yesterday, completely blitzed-looking (the salesgirls barely recognized her), stumbled around for a while, and then left without trying anything. So perfect: most people, when stoned, eat some Tootsie Rolls or watch TV and laugh at things or maybe go hug trees. Mischa Barton, when stoned, goes shopping in West Hollywood. Love it. Oh, and to be dutiful, I should report that Heidi Klum is really beautiful in person. I always thought it was a little weird on Project Runway when they'd dress her up in vaguely S&M clothes, and I only agree with myself more after seeing her close up and admiring how...wholesome she is. Like a healthy, radiant German princess. Which is, I guess, basically what she is. I'll leave you kids with that now; I have a launch party for Kobe Bryant's new Nike sneaker to attend.
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Rachel Bilson is Cute.

I See Stars In L.A.
Today I went out to the front of the store to check on a dress for a customer, and I noticed a petite girl trying on my very favorite things in the store: these incredibly gorgeous Buttero boots. I can't find a photo anywhere, but they're flat boots with a slim, wrinkled high top, made out of the softest finest leather you've ever seen & so delicate they practically don't have soles. Yeesh. I want I want I want. Anyway, so I see this girl wearing them and I can't help saying "Oh good, those are so beautiful!" She looks up and laughs, and it's the truly adorable Rachel Bilson/Summer Roberts from The OC. Shopping with a few friends and talking just like ole Summer herself. I always like her style when she's photographed in magazines, and the fact that she beelined for my fave boots confirms her excellent taste. Good going, little (very little) lady.
Later I picked up the coffee she'd left behind on a table, and thought to myself as I carried it to the trash, "If I were a different girl of a different mind, I could totally touch the cup rim and thus have only 2 degrees of separation from Seth Cohen's lips." Fortunately, I'm not that girl.

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Donatella!!1! oh, and some other stuff.

News flash: one of the salesgirls from the front (I'm at work) just ran back here to the office, whisper-shouting "Donatella's here!" Donatella. Versace. Yes. The head salesgirl started flipping out and trying wildly to get rid of the salad she was holding so she could run out to the floor--"Somebody take this! Take it! Oh god!"--since she was suddenly unable to muster the wherewithall to put it down herself. Naturally, within 30 seconds I found an excuse to trot out there myself, where, indeed, the little leathery lady with the blinding platinum hair was reigning the scene from atop her big black stilettos. Chattering in Italian to her raggedy/anorexic-looking accomplice and then adding more and more to the pile of things waiting in the arms of the fluttering salesgirl. Her voice is very deep and she looks totally, insanely, like all the pictures in the magazines. Love it.

In more useful news, there are some neat happenings coming up in L.A.:

BUY
Sample Sale
What: Loads of Vanitas dresses, N.Fem. basics, Wilen knits, and Morgan Oakley handbags priced wholesale and below.
When: Sat., 11 a.m.-3 p.m.
Where: 7600 Melrose Ave., at Curson Ave., 2nd fl., ste. n, West Hollywood (310-567-2484). http://vanitasofcalifornia.com/

HEAR
The Perils and Pleasures of Prefab Architecture
What: Free reception, book signing, and panel discussion on ecofriendly building and architecture in conjunction with the Some Assembly Required: Contemporary Prefabricated Houses exhibit.
When: Thurs., 6 p.m.
Where: MOCA Pacific Design Center, 8687 Melrose Ave., at San Vicente Blvd., West Hollywood (310-289-5223).

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God Does Exist, Per Banana (and not the Ana Calderon kind)

...though the Ana kind may also prove God exists, some of you who don't know her, must put your faith in this:

(and yes, that is KIRK CAMERON)

.:tt:.

What I'm Reading Now:

My food obsession is becoming ridiculous.

Last night I dreamt that I was dating (read: sleeping with) Anthony Bourdain.

"Ewww," you must be thinking.

"Me too!" I want to shout--except it was hot. We cooked and...Well, you know, all day long. Everything was about food...and well, you know.

This comes on the heels of me reading Marco Pierre White's autobiography, Devil in the Kitchen, that is to drop on May 1, 2007.

It's a fun read, poorly written, but to not to worry, it is written as if it were spoken from his lips. You feel like you have been sitting in your parlor taking a spot of tea with the infamous chef.

For those of you who don't know, Marco Pierre White is the culinary world's first "bad-boy chef." It is the reason Gordon Ramsay has found fame for screaming at the poor sops they gathered in the kitchen of Hell; Ramsay worked for Marco at one of his Michelin starred restaurants, Harvey's.

Names are dropped through out the book, and not in this way; "Last night I was talking to my friend Gordon Ramsay..." (cuz they aren't anymore, btw) but more like this; "...so I hired a sous chef who was about my age, an American lad called Mario Batali."

For those that want to understand the making of some famous chef's of today, I can highly recommend this easy read.

If you want to shell out some dineros for his famed, White Heat you can find it here.

If you want to read about his troubles before you can read about his troubles you can read it here.

If you want to evaluate my dream, you can send it here.

.:tt:.

Daily Dose of Dolls

I remember going to a yard sale (at which I scored a fabulous vintage bathing suit, btw) that had tables stacked with boxes upon boxes of Barbie dolls. Not the cool old ones, but the random new ones that crop up at Toys-R-Us. I remember thinking to myself, "What kind of wacko would find modern-day Barbies appealing enough to buy, never mind keep?"
As a little girl, I had a few Barbies, but I didn't play with them. No, instead I just sat dressing them up. And down. And up. And down. I only had a few dolls (California Style Barbie, Ballerina Barbie, Doctor Barbie), but probably 100 outfits. And shoes--oh, the shoes, the teeny stilettos--man oh man. Anyway, it makes sense that I now find myself strangely empathizing with the abovementioned Barbie-appreciating wackos. Zac Posen has endorsed a Ken doll of himself, wearing a pair of Earnest Sewn jeans and a self-designed silk shantung blazer (uhh, yeah). He's put himself next to a Barbie of his sister (his "muse," apparently) and in the middle of a tres bohemian workroom. I think my fave part is the little bitty dressmaker's mannequin. Awwww.

In other doll news, this is fantastic:


see: www.enchanteddoll.com

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Top Chef, Espisode...oh, Whatever

What? No “welcome back” party?

I know, I know, I’ve been absent (minded). I haven’t meant to ignore you (yes I did). I just was so busy (drinking champagne). So here I am, at last, ready to get this party started.

Happy new year, by the way. In this new year, 2007, let’s start off with the last episode of Top Chef. I had a Top Chef marathon today, and as I’ve just finished the last one—I’m starting there (episode 7, 7 contestants left, 7 deadly sins, lucky number sleven).

Let me start with this:

THANK GOD ILAN IS STILL ON THE SHOW!

I was nervous. That dessert was a bummer. He should stick with selling watches if he is going to cook like that. It’s hard to screw up a chocolate cake.

To make a mistake like he did with the funnel cake, he should have thought on the fly—throw that item away and think of the components of a dessert:

a) chocolate b) crunch c) cream d) fruit e) garnish

These are necessary components for a plated dessert. All are self explanatory, but in case, I’ll explain.

Chocolate is, well…chocolate. It can be in various forms, but to have a perfectly plated dessert, chocolate should be included on the plate.

Crunch is something like a nut, a candy, a cookie, etc. Ilan carried this off by adding a nut brittle…a nice choice.

Cream is dairy in some form. Any dairy.

Fruit? Well…fruit.

The garnish should follow the dessert—it should either be a more attractive version of what is in the meal (strawberry shortcake should have a beautifully sliced strawberry on top) or it should accent the dish (think nuts on a banana split).

Speaking of banana split, according to the rule, a banana split is the perfect dish—even without the cherry on top.

Okay, so enough about Ilan. Let’s talk about Marcel.

Holy…holy…holy. How does he not get it? He’s really annoying! His presentations are beautiful. That is part of his artistry, but he might need to hold back on some of that genius and try to use it for his relationships. He sucks. I can’t stand him and I can turn him off—and often do!

Those boys ganging up on him are acting a little…oh, I dunno—frat house? I think everyone needs to get laid, personally. They all have a lot of pent up energy that could use some expelling. Anyone willing to volunteer? (Pick me! Pick me!)

Beyond the caveman urge to take out the weakest Neanderthal (has no one noticed the brow bone on Marcel?) I think everyone seems to be doing fine. A little too fine. Just fine.

This is a rather boring season. The way the show is shot makes me feel like everything is staged. In my opinion, it seems impossible to give a contest of creating a drink and a dish and then executing it in twenty minutes. Seems like they do some nice cut and paste work over there at Bravo studios.

And Marcel must be even worse in person than on TV because those, once, grown up chefs, have been reduced to silly little name callers—and I’m most certain that they are much more elegant men than that. (That’s what is called a “not” joke. Look it up.)

The only other real quibble I have with the show are the grounds for execution of characters. It seems to me that the team leader ALWAYS wins or gets eliminated—but sometimes, even the best leader can’t win when there is a wolf amongst the sheep, just ask George Bush (…yeah—NOW you are catching on…all together…”NOOOOOOOOOTTTT”).

Tomorrow: Anthony Bourdain—cook or asshole or cooker of assholes?

Tune in to find out.

.:tt:.

How Hollywood Gets Down--Or, Rather, Spirals Downward

OK, this post is both entirely unrelated to either fashion or food and also entirely stolen from The Superficial, but I just thought that y'all should know, and maybe feel even gladder than you already did that your forsook absurd clubs and didn't party like a star on New Year's.

Because if you had, you probably would've ended up all over the internet, and I'd be laughing at you. Like Tara Reid did. She apparently made the supremely unwise decision to count down to midnight starting not from 10,but from 60...and then found she'd given herself a challenge far too great to conquer. I wish I had the mad tech skillz to post the video here, but I'd recommend taking a moment to witness for yourself how she starts at 10, gets to fifty, magically skips from 30 to 20, and has to do some emergency number repairs along the way. I just watched this and I really, really want to watch it again. Dear god. I'm glad that she's fixed up her bungled boobies, but it seems she might have put off her tutoring in the meantime. Jesus it's funny. Though still not as funny as "America's Funniest Home Videos." Or maybe as funny as one of the less funny ones, like a dog jumping up and knocking over a baby, which is still pretty funny.


On the other hand, Britney Spears did surprisingly well, hosting the New Year's party at Pure and managing a vague resemblance to her formerly smokin' self. I even am proud enough of her to have put this nice photo up, rather than one of the goofy ones where she's shrieking and stuff. Still, she did end up collapsing and having to be carried out at the end of night. Oopsy! But "her rep is playing it off like she got tired, not drunk. Her rep says: 'By about one o'clock, she was just done, so we took her out. She was not drunk. She was just tired and falling asleep. There is nothing out of the ordinary here.'" I'd have to agree.

And I'm so glad to see that we can still count on good ol' Paris to get ice cubes thrown at her face after singing at Pure.


Happy Friday! My new classes are starting, so soon I'll have more fashion-school nonsense stories (hurrah!).

> r r <

Things re: Some People Who Are On TV

I should apologize. I realize that I've been slacking on the celeb reporting quite gravely. I think I was concerned that I'd look a) like a namedropper and b) sort of pathetic. As if I'd been totally suckered into the media hype surrounding people just like you and me, who happen to be featured on the big or small screen(s). ME, care about Hollywood hype? NEVER! Errr...as if. I read US Weekly in the checkout line, I IM my friends when Kirsten Dunst browses in my store, and I even switched around my schedule so I could be in Nick-from-Project-Runway's fashion sketching class. So as an apology, I give to you a star-focused, name-dripping post.

For my last sketching class, I had to choose a famous person and create an 8-piece wardrobe for them, then sketch each piece and present the line with inspiration boards and everything. I chose Padma Lakshmi, the smokin'-hot-but-perpetually-heinously-dressed host of Top Chef (one time she was an American Apparel ad, with wifebeater and teensy shorts--as an outfit in which to judge!--and last night she had on some elaborate lace kaftan dress. WTF, Bravo?), and I designed a line of British-schoolteacher-tweed-chic stuff to classy her right up (tight jacket, high-waist skirt, high-neck blouse, cashmere sweaterdress...& some sexay satin shorts).
When I got up to present in class (with MTV cameras rolling, thanks to the presence of good ole LC), I thought I'd done okay until Nick critiqued me. "Don't reveal that you don't know what 'covered buttons' are called." Whoops. "Don't mention the Dita von Teese shoot in Vogue if you don't have it with you." Whoops. "I could barely concentrate on your second sheet there..."--what? please, not more mistakes--"...because I was too distracted by how cute your outfit is." What? No way. NO WAY. I love him and he loves my outfit. Close enough. Thank you, Cynthia Vincent (for my skirt, above, also basis for Padma collection) and H&M (for my checked military-pocket blouse. Great name-dropping there huh.). Then LC got up to present the collection she'd done for Sienna Miller. Cameras were going crazy, getting each angle of her frayed hair and rather sloppy illustrations. The collection, well, was not good. Sorry. The unifying element was little rosettes (or fleurchons)...anyone who saw Project Runway last season knows what a terrible idea that is. Nick even said, "Did you use Angela as your inspiration?" Ahaha.
Finally, after a series of great and not-so-great presentations (condolences to the girl who created a line for Kimora Lee Simmons and priced a coat, trimmed in mink and diamantes, at $12 wholesale), we all lined up to get our final grades and leave. I was last, and while I was muttering something embarassedly about how much fun I'd had in his class (and feeling sad that I'd probably never chat with him again, because I do really like him a lot), Nick wouldn't stop staring at me. I'm thinking, oh god, I've got rubber cement on my blouse (from gluing pictures) or something, when he looks back up and asks me if I'd "consider" being a fit model for him. He hurried to assure me that I'd get trade (free clothes) and pay--as if I'd need convincing. Eff yes! If it comes through, I'll like totally blog all about it. SWEET.

That night, at a going-away party for a friend, first I found out that Lindsay Lohan actually admitted in private that she'd had implants (I KNOW I DIDN'T BELIEVE IT EITHER. I stuck up for that girl's ta-tas for months. and now look. the truth is dead in the modern world, I tell you.), and then I found out that my friend had been tapped to be on The Hills with LC. She'd actually been old friends with her from before high school, and the MTV folk wanted her to be the co-star. They'd pay her full tuition and more in return. But oh, my, god--not nearly as cool as you'd think even if you'd think it was really, really uncool. I knew MTV was bad behind the scenes, and that reality shows are staged, but jesus h: MTV wanted my friend to change her major to fashion design so that she'd be in all the classes with LC; to dump her boyfriend, so that she could be "on the prowl" and compete over boys; to have a total punk-rock-grrl image (hi hot topic), rather than her normal more high-end style, and have to acquire a social circle to match; and to not be friends with LC anymore, but instead be her arch rival. So basically MTV wanted her soul in exchange for a few Ks. I remember now sitting at a bar a year ago with a guy who was describing his past weekend, which had been the worst weekend of his life thanks to MTV. He was on a dating show (the ex-factor or something) and they literally locked all the contestants into small rooms in a house and wouldn't let them out and forced them to comply with their assigned roles and scripts. This is scandal fodder, I say. Anyone want to sell the story to US Weekly? We can throw a party with the proceeds.

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All Signs Point To Zoe

There's been a lot of news about Britney recently. I must say, she deserves it--while not yet at her nubile-trashy-and-proud status of yore, she's putting the more recent trashy-and-pathetic stage behind her.
Anyway, while you may think that Britney's vajoo-joo slipup is the latest in breaking news, I'm here to set you straight. The latest and greatest in Brit-land happenings is straight from the mouth of me, thanks to my mad skillz in deductive reasoning. CHECK IT:

Considering that...
1. Brit's now got a trashy ex who has facial fuzz and wears his clothes eight sizes too big (see Barton, Mischa; Richie, Nicole).
2. She's getting all skinny.
3. She's getting more flatironed and glossy by the minute.
3. She's BFF with Paris Hilton.
4. They partay at Hyde, LAX, etc. etc. blah blah.
5. She's had a Lohan-Hilton-&-Co.-style ladyparts incident.
6. Nicole Richie has recently turned on her former stylist, calling her a "raisin face" and "lettucecup" (?!)...

...isn't it obvious, using knowledge of previous celebrity routes to Us-Weekly fame, that BRIT-BRIT HAS TAKEN NICOLE RICHIE'S PLACE AS RACHEL ZOE'S NEWEST HORSE-TRANQUILIZER-SWALLOWING CLONE-IN-TRAINING?!?!?!

yup, genius, I know. I went to college.

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Reality Bites

Pros of reality TV:

I got so excited when Nick, ex-Project-Runway-contestant-slash-gayster-extraordinaire liked my heart dress sketch. More excited than I would have if I hadn't been cooing over him with all my P.R.-viewing cohort for the past however many months. Seriously though--he was all, "You know, Rachel, now you're going to have to keep it up and give me something just as cute every week now." Blush! Twinkle! Okay Mr. Nick!

Cons of reality TV:

Having to spend the first have of aforementioned Nick's sketching class today setting up big lights, microphones, etc. for the video cameras from "The Hills" and then literally repeating what we did last week for the benefit of the cameras. So much for reality. They surely won't even use it--do "Hills" viewers care a whit about how to draw a proportional croquis? No, all they want is Nick bending over LC's homework reminding her to draw the backs of the necklines. If they get any footage actually worth watching, I can only imagine it'll be of Nick saying fabulous things, not of LC just sitting at her table. All of us are quiet so that we won't get filmed. Am seriously hoping that I never make an appearance on that show--it's now less a curiosity and more a pain in the ass. Mercy, I just have such antagonistic sentiments toward MTV now.

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Salmon and Celebrities

All right, so, yesterday Jenni and I had a date to make a delicious dinner. It was going to be a leisurely process--cosy little grocery shopping trip, a few glasses of wine, perhaps some romantic music to cook by--but my school day ended up three hours longer than it was supposed to have been, so we had to expedite the process. It's a long story, so I'll just skip to the food.

HA HA HA HA. Yeah right--it's not that long a story, and it's by FAR the most blog-worthy topic (sorry, Jenni). So recipes, just shut up and wait your freakin' turn--I have CELEB GUSHING to do here.
Okay, so remember Nick from last season's Project Runway? The super nice sweet one who never said anything (terribly) bitchy except sometimes in the solo confessional-style parts? With the snappy wardrobe and little faux-hawk? The one who teaches at my school? Oh right, that one. Whether you remember him or not--though you SHOULD, since anyone worth anything should have been watching P.R. and commiting every detail to memory since Episode One--the point is that as I was sitting in Mrs. Something-or-other's Fundamentals of Sketching class yesterday afternoon, I realized that if I did a little scheduling magic, I COULD BE IN NICK'S CLASS INSTEAD. And that, kids, is what I did. So three short hours later I found myself making big eyes at Nick himself, asking for permission to join his roster (success!), and listening to him call everyone "honey" in the most flamboyant possible way (it seems that, since P.R., he's turned up the volume on the flamitude.). He also managed to name-drop more substances that he'd like to ingest in the name of relaxation (Xanax, Jager--since when is that relaxing?--, margaritas, and at least a few others) than I'd have imagined possible in one three-hour class. Anyway, despite all the show, he looks to be a really effective teacher. He guided us through making our own croquis (sketching model) and assigned an armload of homework (never mind the armload of actual materials for the class...I'll definitely be in serious need of a chiropractor soon).

And for the other celeb, or something: I was so absorbed in Nick and his spiel that I didn't even notice that the (in)famous Lauren from "The Hills"was sitting in the seat across from mine, overly tan, tapping away at her sidekick. Woo. We all had to sign release forms saying that we don't mind if MTV uses our images, words, "and any lyrics we may sing on tape" for their own skeezy purposes. I can't decide whether having a chance appearance on "The Hills" will be funny or just bad. Oh, as for LC--hard to tell What She's Really Like. The only glimmer I saw was when, standing in line, another girl introduced herself to me and LC as Valentine. LC's reaction: "That's a neat name." Silence. Ooookay.

ANYWAY! On to the food! After class, I jumped on the bus, picked up salmon and spinach at Trader Joe's, and then got Jenni (with neato oyster mushrooms and Japanese eggplants in hand). We made a delish vegetable sautee:
-ginger, onions & garlic sauteed in oil
-oyster mushrooms & normal mushrooms added
-soy sauce and fresh spinach added & cooked just until spinach wilted.
All of the above served over sauteed eggplant rounds, next to:
-salmon fillets, sauteed in sesame oil with a black pepper & sesame-seed crust. SO YUM.

Speaking of salmon, I just read a neat tip in Russ Parsons's book: to cook salmon so that the skin is crispy and good instead of slimy, "use the back of a knife to 'squeegee' the skin of the salmon until you see moisture come out and collect on the knife. Wipe the knife and the salmon dry with paper towels. Repeat until moisture no longer appears. Cook skin side down, and flip over only at end." Huh. Neat.

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