I've collapsed. I'm like a girl in a squat who just sleeps all day-- a faded beauty surrounded by things that might have once been grand. I was once useful and now I am just a drain. BUT I will wake up one day and my greatest fear is that I will be alone. I'm sorry I've turned into the girl in the picture. But I believe what was once beautiful can be salvaged again with belief and hope. Am I right, Ethers?
Dear Ethers,
I know I was supposed to share my Valentino catwalk show with you today, but I wanted to hold off and address something that has been causing me great anxiety.
My blog has been very negative and depressing lately. I don’t know what to do about it. I’m afraid what I write is redundant and dreary. I fear it’s become a broken record. I’m even bored hearing about my saga with English gent and Los Angeles and my woes about my career. But I pose the question: if this blog is supposed to be real and honest—and about my daily thoughts—then what am I supposed to do?
Maybe it was a foolish challenge to write every day. I mean, others do it, but often they have jobs where they have fresh material that they can bring to the table everyday. Me? I’m just a normal person—and who really wants to read about someone else’s “normal” when they have their own B.S. to deal with daily?
When I started One of 365 I wanted to be everything to everyone. I wanted to be a shoulder to lean on, a smile for someone, a big laugh, a brilliant insight, a fashion guru, a beauty aficionado—I wanted to be the girl that would have impressed Mr. X and everyone else out there in the world. I wanted to write my little heart out and have everyone relate to me in someway because I felt that I could connect the human spirit whether you lived in Uganda or the USA. I loved to write and had so much to say and felt blogging was a dream opportunity.
I feel like I’ve failed. For about 2 weeks I’ve wanted to throw in the towel. Erase One of 365 from the blogosphere, delete my e-mail address and my Twitter account and do what I feared most—-fade into the ether. I felt like an arthritic 90 year old every time I sat at my keyboard writing. It felt painful to type, to search for images, to feel anything. I’ve been rubbish at responding to comments (which is my FAVORITE thing about my blog), writing to other blogs I’m a fan of (sorry guys) and Tweeting (which I also adore because of the live and clever banter).
On the 29th I will be a quarter of the way through my 365 days. I’ve come a long way, but still have a hell of a long journey ahead. I know sometimes we hit potholes in life and since my blog is really reflective of my life, can you understand that I’m in a deep pothole–a deep, scary pothole? I mean, I hope that the 4 wheel drive will kick in and I’ll get out of this and those of you who will have stuck with me will be able to see this dark cloud’s silver lining shine again. Look, I can’t go on much longer like this either, so if you think reading about this everyday is crummy, imagine living it….
My point is, this blog is a journey——and I made no promises that it was ever going to be a smooth ride. To put it crassly: things suck right now. But even though it often takes all my strength to sit down and write this and face my feelings, I sometime don’t know what I’d do without this site.
Will you take my word on something Ethers? I’m really a nice person who is in a pinch right now. I’m loving, but desperate. Hopeful, but crushed. Amidst people, but lonesome. And don’t let this scare you, but sometimes I wish I could just fall asleep and never wake up. But I can’t imagine life without me in it. God knows how, but I get up with my heart in my mouth and I manage to tick each day off the calendar hoping that maybe tomorrow will be the day that the 4 wheel drive kicks in.
I’m only 29. But my god, I’m fucking 29. Can you understand that sentiment? Amelia Burr said “Because I have loved life, I shall have no sorrow to die.” I do not feel that way at all. My dying wish is to have that inscribed on my gravestone.
How lucky. How very lucky. This is how an aged couple should feel after years of marriage. But many are bitter. Many haven't embraced in forever. Hands have become claws that scratch at one another---they are no longer for holding.
Dear Ethers,
My grandparents met when they were 15 and 17 years old. They are now 93 and 95. Imagine. That’s a long time to be with someone. My grandfather was extraordinarily handsome. My grandmother, though not as pretty in the face, was extremely attractive. They dressed beautifully, went out with the chic crowd, and enjoyed a good martini. My grandmother was a singer and was given a brilliant offer to go to Broadway. My grandfather, a cartoonist, was asked to go to Hollywood to work for Disney. Both had to give up their dreams to stay with each other because they felt it was unfair to make the other choose. Foolish if you ask me, but those were the days of gallantry I suppose.
My grandfather opened an advertising agency where he always drew his campaigns (it kept him artsy enough)and my grandmother had 3 sons—and she never stopped humming a tune. If you asked them in their 30’s, 40’s, 50’s and 60’s if they were happy with their choice of not being rich or possibly famous, they would be smitten and say yes. But now wizened and bitter, they have hated each other for at least 30 years.
I have never known my grandmother to have ever slept in the same room as my grandfather and my grandmother dutifully cooks and cleans, but barely utters a word to him and leaves to play bridge with her girlfriends. They constantly bring up old memories and argue and blame one another for their downfalls.
My grandfather took to drawing celebrities (he is an amazing artist) and getting them autographed. He has JFK, Babe Ruth, one of the Pope’s—you name it, he’s got it. He’s worked years to make that collection. When my grandmother is mad she tells him to “Go downstairs and trace something.” And when he gets mad at her, he tells her that she’s never done a damned thing with her life. I think he forgets that she ran his business (was his accountant) and raised his 3 boys.
The irony is they look 20 years younger than they are and are (knock wood) in perfect health. They drive, they live in their same house (no assisted living)—my grandfather plays rounds of golf on the weekends. It’s like they are trying as hard as they can to beat the other one out from dying. Do you know how many widows would kill to have their husbands back from the dead and to be able to live their very last day with their partner? Nope. These two are so ungrateful.
When I asked my grandmother why she never divorced him, she said she felt it was too late. Too late to leave and she felt too sorry for him. He wouldn’t survive without her. But I think she wouldn’t survive without him. I don’t think she CAN remember life without him in it.
They have never been warm and fuzzy people. They’ve always been sharp, smart, kind but not empathetic. I know they love me, but they are critical, never gave me gifts and when I stayed with them, were always trying to “improve” me. I love them with all of my heart, but they always scare me. They remind me of what could happen when love goes wrong. When you stay with the wrong person and it becomes “too late.” I think you become hardened, angry, critical, and your body can’t accept a hug because it hasn’t felt one in so long it’s forgotten the motion.
I don’t know how much time I have left with them. They live in Massachusetts and I see them maybe twice a year. I smile when my grandmother tells me she loves “Sex and the City” or when my grandfather tells me he enjoys playing on the internet. Can you imagine what these people have seen in their lifetime? But, I’m afraid they can’t appreciate any of it. All they can see is red. Red for stealing each other’s lives. They really are old dog’s that can’t be taught new tricks. All that’s on their minds is what could have been.
I look at English gent. He has a beautiful face. So did my grandfather. I met him when he was a teenager. So did my grandmother. We gave up a lot to be together. So did they. And we aren’t even 60 and we already are seeing red. I don’t want to see my hands, like my grandmother’s, filled with hose like veins sticking up from her flesh, clenching her fists while her diamond wedding ring glints in the light, furious. I don’t want to live with a man who is my roommate but also my gatekeeper from any other life. But, just like my grandmother, I can’t imagine life without him.
Sometimes I see them, arms linked, walking down the street. They have the same gait. She’s speaking into his ear and he’s nodding. And I know that they’d be dead long ago without each other. Maybe it is the competitive fight that keeps them alive—but there is a lot of love and history too. I wonder what my grandmother would have looked like on Broadway? Her stage name was “Ethel Evans.” And my grandfather? What wonderful drawings he might have made with those talented hands. But, then I wouldn’t be here to tell this tale. For me, it worked out. But for them—sometimes I wish they had parted ways and had their chance in the limelight instead of sitting in the dark grinding their teeth with anger. I wonder who will go first—and whoever does, I know the other will, somewhere in their heart (as devastated as they will be) feel that once again, their show was stolen from them except this time they’ll have no one to be angry at any longer.
I'm not going to say much, because it'll ruin the story. But see this girl. She looks somewhat surprised, but not in a "I'm going to kill myself because someone shaved off all of my hair" kinda way. Well. This photo could have been me....but with a VERY different expression on ol' One of 365's face. Seriously---don't ever fuck with my hair.
Dear Ethers,
OH MY GOD. I have the CRAZIEST story to tell you. Right. So, you know how I’m always going on about my hair and its length. I mean, by this time you know the diameter of each follicle. But you also know how much I treasure it. I swore the only way I would ever cut my hair is if I became destitute and it was the last thing I had to pawn to eat that night.
So, I had straightened my hair for an event and had been wearing it down because I usually don’t take much care to make a fuss over it (you know, tying it in a messy bun etc…) and wanted to work my “do.” I’m walking down the street and this woman comes up to me and says, “You have the most beautiful hair.” Well, of course I was pleased and thanked her very much. But she went on. “Is that your natural color?” I politely responded, “Yes, it’s my own.” “So you don’t use any dyes at all?” Okay, now not only was I getting annoyed, but I was getting weirded out. I said, “Look, I’m real busy…” and she cut me off and started telling me that she worked for this charity called “Locks of Love” and they were really desperate for donors because all of the salon owners were paying a fortune to girls and it was the recession.
Now, I’m not saying I’m the most benevolent person in the world, but I do give to certain charities. But they are ones that I choose and that I approach. I make it a policy NEVER to give to charities on streets or on the phone. I like to do my research on the net and donate via e-mail. But regardless, where was this woman’s badge? Who the hell was she? And I’m sure “Locks of Love” didn’t have a bombard you policy that freaked young women out on the street.
I calmly told her that I had no intention of cutting my hair and that I would appreciate her leaving me alone as I felt this was very inappropriate. Now, a normal person would walk away. Oh no, this lady got PISSED. “Don’t you care about kids with cancer? Women who’ve been burned and lost parts of their scalp?” Did I mention I’m standing on a street where there were cafes and people were staring at us? I just started walking away—but she followed. I started to reach for my cell phone and my keys.
And then I felt a tug.
My whole body went numb and I swear to god for a second I thought she took out shears and lopped my hair off.
I spun around and screamed at her to never fucking touch me again and that I was dialing 911. I’ve never seen a skinny woman with a bob-cut run so fast in my whole life.
When I got home I called “Locks of Love” and told them my story. And Ethers, I’m not joking (and you might think I’m a pussy) I was crying. I think they were afraid I was going to sue for assault charges. But the truth is I didn’t have the woman’s name and they said they have so many volunteers that even with my description of her, it was hopeless.
I think “Locks of Love” do a wonderful thing and I do not want to incriminate them for one woman’s insane breakdown. But I have to tell you that I will never forget that moment. I did wonder if that woman was really from “Locks of Love” because they told me that dyed hair WAS acceptable though bleached wasn’t. And if the lady had cut my hair without it being in a braid or ponytail first she would have done it for nothing—they can’t accept it loose. Oh and FYI, if you ever DO want to donate, your hair needs to be 10” tip-tip minimum (and they do request it to be clean, thank you very much).
Later that night I took a shower, used my special Kerastase shampoo that I pull out for special occasions and my Redkin conditioner that is for VERY special moments, and lathered up grateful for something to still be attached to my head. My waves re-appeared, and as my hair dried, up it went into its lazy bun happy to be protected. I was just so happy to have given my OWN locks some love that night when it all could have been snipped away by some nutter with a bad bowl cut. Sheesh. Only in L.A.
Ahh the yin and yang of life, people, Hollywood. But I always find the truth behind the real backwards and forwards--the stability of ones soul REALLY is the cliche. It's all in the eyes. The clearest can cloud over and cut you. It's been a long time since I've looked anyone in the eye and seen total clarity. Shame. I really miss that connection. Dark or light, what those lashes behold can't fool me anymore. Help me believe again Ethers. Please.
Dear Ethers,
Forgive me for the late post. I was up until 5am last night covering a lovely event and it was an all day shin-dig that took all of the energy out of me. I DID sleep, but I’ve just now stopped working.
Last night was the first night I actually felt an affinity for anyone in Los Angeles. I met some wonderfully talented people who were in the industry but not pretentious or stuck-up or any of the other stereo-types you might expect from shows like “Entourage” or even “Sex and the City.” These were really hard-working people who made it happen for themselves and were intelligent and engaging. I was shocked. Some of them were celebrities, some of them behind the scenes folks, but it was so refreshing to see the flip-side of Hollywood and not the people who arrived through nepotism or the Paris Hilton’s of the world.
I spoke to an Emmy award winning writer who did a documentary on Autism. What a brilliant woman. I spoke to the daughter of a VERY famous singer who was so down to earth and very intelligent. And for being so young and so rich (and could have gone the way of Ms. Ritchie or Hilton) she was humble, interesting and knew the value of hard-work and earning a living. We were talking about expensive purchases and she told me that she saves up for a whole year and only splurges on one thing and treasures it. Trust me, this girl could live a lot larger. Did I mention she was also extremely beautiful? And you know what? When I asked about her visage–she turned crimson and said she never even thought about it—–that what mattered to her was finishing her degree and acting. I hope her career soars.
It is so yin and yang in this city. Last night reminded me of what I grew up with–a generation I thought had died out with men like my father. Men who came to this city with a dog-eared script and dreams. Men (and women) with talent and hope from humble backgrounds who loved the art of writing or performing and were grateful every day for what they had. I wish I could go into detail about last night. I can tell you that it was a balmy evening. That champagne flowed, a DJ played great music and it was luxury all the way. I can also tell you that I got to take English gent with me to the after party for this event and I really enjoyed having him there and seeing him experience a Hollywood moment with good people. And, of course, he ended up speaking to all the ex-pats there! But, alas, I was really happy that he was with me. I couldn’t stay with him for long–I had to schmooze–I was on the clock—but knowing he was there to experience something new and that we were actually living outside of our confined box made me feel happy. That we could get a little dressed up and have a destination. It reminded me of London and our days of talking to people and being able to smoke freely (I know, I know…) For you fashionistas who like my blog, you’d be very proud. My photo was taken for an L.A. mag as being the best dressed at the party! Yep—now, that’s pretty cool given it was a high-end fashion event. See, I might fuck up sometimes on “Fashion Fridays” or my “Wish Lists” but when someone snaps their fingers and says, “Get snazzy” I’m there with the best of them
But in all seriousness, I’ve lost a lot of faith in people. I know, it’s very sad. You hope nights like the one I am describing will repeat themselves—but the shame is they are so rare. You’d be proud of me Ethers. I really tried to soak it up–because I knew this was a rare gem. I want to believe in the world. In people. In the goodness of humanity. But, I’ve had to lick my wounds so often I’m afraid to expose myself.
Ethers, thank-you for starting to make me believe that there are decent folks in the world. This is part of the journey of One of 365. But, I cannot see you or touch you or hear you. I need to look someone in the eye and see a warmness. An intelligence. A gentleness. A realness. THAT is going to take a long time because I’ve seen many eyes clear with kindness glaze over with gross ugliness in a flash before……and it is scary.
Be good……..and I’ll be seeing you for “Fashion Fridays” tomorrow.
The “Wish List” is meant to show the many varieties fashion has to offer from the many wonderful online shopping sites on the Web. My goal is to try and feature the big guys online and throw in a few of the smaller lads just so I can style some really cool outfits that are occasion appropriate. I was eager to check out the Ralph Lauren site. I don’t know if any of you have been to his store on Madison Avenue in New York, but it is in a stunning old mansion and you feel like you’ve walked into shoppers paradise. Warm wood panels and lush ferns greet you with oversized urns filled with lily’s, orchids and amaryllis. It is how the rich must have shopped before 1929–before taxes–before the second World War. It blows you away. To me, Ralph Lauren (FYI: his real last name is Lifshitz and he is a lovely Jewish man who began his career selling ties!) is the epitome of New York style. His look is sleek, it is the Hamptons it IS the Polo fields. What I love about Ralph Lauren today is that you can still count on his label being recognizable, but being modern and updated. He moves with the times but never strays from his staple looks and designs. You know you can always get a polo shirt with his famous insignia, but it will always be a modern cut, fit and color for the season.
When I visited his site I was blown away by how many things I wanted. For me, Ralph Lauren was always a label I aspired to for when I got a little older and couldn’t wear diffusion lines anymore. But I saw unique takes on the ruffled blouse, the pussy bow blouse, wonderful balloon sleeves, sleek trousers you would kill for and amazing suede and leather designs that were of the highest quality. His bags were amazing, but only if you had a cool $16,000 (yep, the extra zero is in there for a reason) to drop. The weakest part of the site, I would say, were his shoes and his accessories/jewellery. I’m sure in-store there was more, but I wasn’t thrilled with the selection. I felt they could have offered the customer more to go with their outfits. I could’ve gone a bit funky with Mr. Lauren, but decided to keep it as it should be: classic. I wanted my “Wish List” from Ralph Lauren to be aspirational, elegant, timeless, classic, and just simple. A lot of the other “Wish Lists” will have styles that will come and go. But what I have chosen you can pull out 20 years later and still wear and even pass on to your daughter. I chose things with cuts and fabrics that mattered so even though they may not look bright and shiny, it’s all in the way it falls and hangs and feels. I think that embodies Ralph Lauren.
With that in mind, this outfit is all about you going to a Black-Tie event. You need a gown that’s going to be striking because it is clean, and shows YOU off, and not the other way around. The attention is drawn to the silhouette through the cut of the gown, the soft-hugging fabric and the chain detail drawing attention to your back (a very sensual part of the body, I might add). Being floor length with high-heels, you look long and lean. Because of the open back detail I’d wear the hair up to show off as much of your body as possible (neck included). A nicely made up face with a touch of luminizing cream in your foundation (keep it natural and light) a gentle touch of pink to the apples of your cheeks, a strong red lip, a base color eyeshadow (as in a taupe or pale cream) with liner in a small cat-eye and heavy on the mascara. Make sure your brows are tidy, and even add brow gel to keep them in place. A nice touch would be square nails, short, in a matching red varnish. Same with the toes.
You know, we still look at that picture of Audrey Hepburn from “Breakfast At Tiffany’s” and envy her look. She made us love the LBD. This “Wish List” look will have the same effect. All the women at the gala wearing the trends of the season will give their dresses away or look back and will be able to pin-point exactly the season the outfit was from. Not you. You’ll be as classic as Ms. Hepburn. Let’s roll out the red carpet!
Dedicatedly yours,
—One of 365
Whenever you walk into a room feeling beautiful, you feel like all eyes are on you. That's not just hubris, it's usually true. And in this dress, your hunch will be probably be right again. This cashmere, floor-length dress will show off all of the curves of your body. The boat-neck front looks clean, simple and elegant giving your body the chance to show-off its killer silhouette, but when you turn around and reveal the plunging v-back with multi-tiered chain adornments, well, that's the big reveal. The muscles in your back will get their chance to expose themselves and the chains act as jewellery where you couldn't have any on the front. Tell me this isn't a classic? You'll feel good because the fabric is amazing, you'll look gorgeous because of the cut and you know you're the class act at a classy affair. Not bad. Not bad at all. Cashmere Chain-Back Gown, $1898, ralphlauren.com
Though the heel won't really show, if you do end up revealing your tootsies you want the world to know you're working it top to toe. These suede and Swarovski crystal embellished sandals are straight from the runway collection so if they are good enough to work it on a catwalk they are good enough to work it for your Black Tie affair. The crystals will go nicely with the earrings I will show you in the next shot and the wrapping around of the suede is a play on the dripping chain on the back of the dress. The heel height is also great (4"), because the taller you are, the longer and leaner you look in that gown. Brea Suede Crystal Sandal, $795, ralphlauren.com
I was surprised that Maestro Lauren didn't have a fine jewellery section. Maybe it's not featured online. I HATE that I'm promoting CZ's but the look goes with the classic and timelessness of the whole outfit so I am going to settle (but let's pretend they are real diamonds, okay?). A diamond stud is something that you aspire to. It's like a coming of age gift. You can wear them day to night and they will always match any outfit. These studs will go with the simplicity of the dress. We don't want anything hanging--it would compete with the chains in the back. We just want a touch of glimmer every so often when you catch the light you shine. Large Cubic Zirconia Stud, $45, ralphlauren.com
With lush Swarovski crystals, a satin finish, African crocodile trim and a classic Art-Deco clasp this is the perfect clutch to go with your outfit. I love that it is also lined in a bright purple! Again, it's the quality of the materials and the classic shape, design and ability to use over and over again. Perfection. Satin, Crystal & Croco Clutch, $1,995, ralphlauren.com
And of course you need that finishing touch when you are just about to step out the door. It's a sexy scent for evening and the bottle and packaging even go with your outfit so if you were to take it with you, it would look like a great accessory! Notorious is a sparkling spiced scent with notes of deep black currant, chocolate and patchouli musk. Spritz on pulse points. Ooo la la. Notorious 1.7 oz Eau de Parfum, $65, ralphlauren.com
Step out of the Ether and send me an E-mail. I would be glad to have your thoughts, feelings and ideas.
