"A throne is only a bench covered with velvet." Napoleon Bonaparte (I am not so cynical, but isn't that a great quote! No wonder he had a chip on his shoulder I am very pleased with my bench covered in velvet, thank you very much!)

The RAM on my computer is very pleased.  It’s being filled with wonderful gifts from fellow bloggers who have been kind and generous with their love and thoughts.  The uber-cool Forty Not Out (who has not only a really fab blog that will make you crack a smile with her humor and wicked wit but also, as a fellow blogger, will make you jealous of how good her design taste is—killer header woman!) has given me the “Queen of ALLL Things” award.  From a stylish lady who has pretty damned good taste, I’m taking this as a great sign that I’m still (kinda) hip.  So eat your heart out LIZ!  But, to boot, my best mate on the blogosphere, who has a blog I endlessly rave about, Life, The Universe And All Thats In It, doubly whammied  me and now I can say I am TRULY pretty in pink.  

I’ve said this before when I’ve been lucky enough to be given an award.  The best thing about being recognized by your fellow bloggers is that you know that like-minded and intelligent people, who are out there busting their balls doing exactly what you are trying to do, are giving you a virtual high-five.  It shows that there is no back-stabbing and bitchiness and that we all are rooting for each other.  I wish I was a better supporter when it came to blogging.  I LOVE the girls who I have on my blogroll and I read their entries daily—but often don’t leave a comment—which sucks because I know it makes MY day when THEY do.  So this award is going to reform me.  Knowing that I have this crown, I have a new duty.  To be a better comment leaver–I mean even the Queen takes the time to write you a letter when you turn 100 (well, she signs her bloody name).  But just know that every day I check up on you guys and I really keep up on your worlds.  In fact, I really want to broaden my horizons and make new blog buddies.  An award like this just reminds me about how important this has to be in my  life because blogging is such an integral part of my routine.  

I have no one new to pass this award on to.  I have recently received an award and dedicated it to everyone on my blogroll.  So, this is what I propose to do with my crown.  I want to dedicate this to the millions of bloggers who give their hearts and souls to their keyboards every day, week, month—sometimes never even getting a hit but always persevering because they love writing and have a passion they must express.  From the guy who writes a new chess move on his blog each day to the fashion photographer who posts her photos and  dreams of becoming the next Sartorialist.  Whatever our desires for doing this are, may they prevail and may all of us be around for a long time.

Thank you again for this wonderful recognition and for making me feel truly like a real Monarch of the Web for the day

Dedicatedly yours, 

—One of 365

What a HUNK! Notice me Charles....me...the girl through the screen...c'mon...you're staring right at me. UGH! You just missed me and caught sight of that Camilla woman. Shame. Now I'm doomed to be a nobody for the rest of my life and you get to play polo and have servants while I get to look for work and earn a pittance but pay 30% taxes so you can travel in a Bentley! BRILLIANT! Oh Charlie. It could have been us.

Dear Ethers,

Tonight I am going to an event where I’m meeting a Prince.  I can’t tell you anything about the red carpet itself (ARGHHH) but that’s not really what the post is about anyway.  It’s about the idea of royalty and a girl who just doesn’t understand the significance of its importance.

For days I’ve been receiving details about security, how to present myself to him when we meet.  Oh and his biography (AKA: a dissertation).  Ethers, you have to remember that I am going to be also interviewing celebrities that would be considered Hollywood royalty—people much more famous and significant than this blue blooded gentleman.  And you know what—all I’ve had to do is IMDB for research–easy.

Growing up as an American I’ve never understood monarchies.  I suppose I understood the tradition, but I never understood the money that they cost and the opulence that they lived in just to do…………what exactly?  I know there are a lot of royalists.  Though having lived in England, it tends to be the older generation that likes the tradition rather than the younger folks.  We just don’t get Liz and Charlie and Hot Ginge and Wills.  Yes, they bring a lot of money in for tourism and that’s great.  But, does that really compensate for the money they cost the taxpayer?  I want to go to China White’s for free and have my Chanel bag stuffed full of 50 pound notes from the taxes of the cleaner on Piccadilly Circus buying me Grey Goose on the rocks all night.  I want my face on porcelain sold in shops around tourist attractions so that people can admire me.  Why…because……well……..why?

I’m not just picking on England.  I just know the monarchy best there.  I really think it’s ALL so ridiculous globally.  I mean, look at the royal families in Saudi Arabia.  They literally have dolphins brought in for parties to be a novelty in their pools where they die afterwards from the chlorine.  They live so opulently, while most of the country is so poor that they wear boiler suits in 100 degree weather fixing roads for $1 an hour.   There are people living in such horrible conditions–in slums and Council Estates.  People who need rehab and don’t have the money.  But, the queen has a “Diamond as Big As The Ritz” that could probably pay for hundreds of her subjects to seek the help they need.  Yet it sits in a vault getting steamed every so often by a royal gem cleaner (another expense) amongst the other masses of jewels she probably doesn’t even know she has.

Monarchies are not today what they were once were.  Elizabeth the 2^nd ain’t no Elizabeth the 1^st and we know it.  So why the hell do we back out of rooms and bow to these old birds?  Why do lords and ladies get estates and benefits that hard-working folks don’t?

So I’ve been instructed that I must curtsy and when introduced say “It is a pleasure to meet you, your Highness.”  I’ve had to practice this several times with a straight face and then without stuttering because I just can’t spit it out.  Classy, right?  It’s wrong of me not to embrace that this is the way this country operates and I have to accept this man for who he is.  I guess running through my veins is the blood of an American with the history of men who signed the Declaration of Independence—a veritable death warrant for a democracy so they could break free from the reigns of a king or a queen.

I know I should be looking at tonight as novel and fun.  And I will—it will all be looked at with a grain of salt.  But in that moment when he comes to me, and I have to curtsy—it will be very serious.  That’s when it becomes real and that’s why this idea came to my mind for a post.

I’m sure a lot of you are going to defend royalty or maybe agree with me about the foolishness of kings and queens.  There are many people who would kill to be in my shoes tonight and would see it as an absolute honor to even touch this mans hands.  I’m just looking at the bigger picture.  The idea of whether or not royalty is a rotting appendage of society.  I’d love to hear your comments and thoughts about this topic.

LOL.  I’m just imagining him showing up in ermine, a crown and shoes with a diamond buckles.  I’m sure he’ll probably be wearing Armani.  Anyway….until then…..I must practice……..so………..how does this sound………….. “It is a pleasure to meet you, your (eeeeeeeeeeek) Highness?”  Not too bad, right?  I hope he doesn’t notice my chewed fingernails.  I have been going through a lot lately.  But I’m only human—and you know what, at the end of the day, DNA-wise, so is he.

Dedicatedly yours,

—One of 365

Welcome to the Vintage Valentino catwalk in L.A.! I promised you if I could take pics I would and so I'm here to deliver. I'm usually under a tight-lipped contract so I can't share anything glam with you guys, but because I went as a civilian and not a reporter, I could spill all. Enjoy the show

Dear Ethers,

When I go to any ritzy event it always has a catch—I have to work.  I hope one day to be able to attend a glam party or a wonderful opening based on the generosity of creative friends or because I have the money to afford to buy a ticket.  But as it stands, the only way I get into things is by covering them as a journalist.  It was much better in London when I was a beauty writer.  I didn’t have to deal with celebs at parties ever and when there was an actual party, not just a small tea, it was really contained and lovely. In L.A. it’s not like that.  The events I go to are like mad, “Girls Gone Wild” parties.  Often there can be sweaty, drunk dancing involved and celeb groupies.

On Thursday evening I was given a VIP front row seat to the Vintage Valentino show that was being held at Downtown Los Angeles Fashion Week.  Here in the States, L.A. Fashion Week is considered a joke (sad).  So I wasn’t asked to cover anything anyway.  But this lovely person had bought this ticket and at the last minute couldn’t go and I was the lucky tush that got her seat.  I love Valentino.  I own “The Last Emperor” on DVD and haven’t watched it yet.  But I think his clothes are spectacular and I felt honored to attend.  It was also going to be great seeing the red carpet from afar and lovely not to have to rush home and be up until 5am transcribing my interviews.

I didn’t have anything even close to couture, let alone Valentino couture, and I was sitting in the front row!  But, I had a hunch that this being L.A. and not the hottest of fashion meccas, that if I looked snazzy enough, I’d be okay.  So, I put on a really fab All Saints top that is very Westwood, did my eyes up in fab colors going with my Russian Revolution trend (Read Russian Revolution post for the hottest beauty trend this fall!) and did my hair so I could put in a peacock feather headband that went with my trend alert for hair adornments (Read “Tress-Chic” post for the hottest trends for hair this fall!).  This old set of digits didn’t look half bad

I’m not in the best state at the moment due to work anxiety and was really nervous about showing up to a party without anyone.  A lot of these folks knew each other or were in the biz and so I sort of wandered around aimlessly (though some people were very kind and stopped to chat with me about my top!).  L.A. is such a weird place when it comes to getting dressed.  I arrived looking very London I suppose, and they came looking like—I dunno—I hate to say it—but very…errrmmm…seductive.  The girls were either really blinged out or wearing skin-tight, short dresses with their business hanging out.  And the make-up—oh my god!  Talk about caked on!  It’s just a different beast out here.

Anyway, I was led to my seat which was in a prime location, and it had a goodie bag sitting on it (always fun).  There were Coca-Cola girls in red-sequined dresses walking around with trays of soda for our comfort and it was really laid back.  The opening act for the show was a Brit named Matt Goss.  He has a show in Vegas and he is like a funky Frank Sinatra.  He was amazing!  His music rocked and he had showgirls that danced around him—he gave 100% and it was brilliant.

Our lovely Coke girl and you can see the front row and the goodie bags!!!

I have never heard of him, but evidently he's #13 in the UK charts and has a big show at the Palms in Las Vegas. Anyway, the guy was great and his dancers were very sexy!

Then the catwalk show began.  I was so let down.  You’ll see by the pics what I mean.  Valentino must have a conservatory of clothes that would make any fashionista’s heart stop.  The woman who threw the fashion show actually had collected and owned all the pieces so I understand that Valentino hadn’t leant or chosen the clothes himself.  But my god, the choices were atrocious.  The theme was red and black (never a good move) and the era’s were a mess.  Some of the dresses looked like bad 80’s disasters that I’m sure Maestro Valentino wished never resurfaced.  And the way they were styled!  The girls looked like they were Christmas tress with ornaments on them. The models were so second rate.  They had bad skin, they walked poorly, their faces were “whatever.”  And whoever did their make-up—I could have done better!  It looked like they had grease paint smeared on as foundation with heavy red lips and heavy black eyes.  That’s so dated! The hair looked oily and matted—it was bad.  I saw all of the faces in the front row and everyone was in shock!!!   The show had 2 dresses that I would have liked—but not pined for—and in a fashion show—you should be drooling.  I’ll show you the dresses that burnt my eyeballs out of their sockets they were so ugly first and at the end of my post, I’ll show you the two dresses I liked.  Here goes:

I wouldn't have been caught dead in this when it was created! And the model--seriously?

I don't know if this was Valentino's take on a Spanish-style dress gone-80's but OMG! It looks like it is a costume. And so tacky!!!

I think if they threw some tinsel and some candy canes on her it would have been perfect! Ugh and look at her make-up.

I had to include this because I was wondering if Valentino was even trying when he created this and also whomever picked the model to wear this---did they not see it didn't fit her well? Oh, and I'm sorry again to be cruel, but does SHE have the face of a model to you?

The end of the show--thank god! Look how Goth and scary they look. This would have Valentino crying off all of that orange paint he has on his face!

Afterwards, I had a cocktail, spoke to a few people, had a person I knew from the media take a photo of ME on the red carpet with my camera (very funny) and I drove home pleased as punch that I got out and could kick off my heels—but gave the night a fair go.  I wish evenings like that were more common for me…just nice and chilled out.

If you’re wondering what was in the goodie bag, it was very disappointing.  The goodie bags in L.A. are so second rate compared to Blighty! Let’s see, there was a brand of skincare I never heard of that gave a night serum, wipes for your pet, a sample size of Paul Mitchell hair cream, foot petals for your heels and a CD from Matt Goss that I got him to sign for my brother.  I think they could have AT LEAST put SOMETHING Valentino in there!

Anywhooo….I’m thrilled to be able to actually share what a night out for me is like in L.A.  Leave me a comment to let me know what you thought about the show and that you agree the models are DIRE!  Enjoy and I’ll see you tomorrow with my own bit of fashion with a brand new “Wish List.”

PS: Here are the 2 dresses I liked:

I really liked this because of the layering, the material and the adorable cape. Do I think it is pure genius? No. But it is pretty damned cute and I'd dig it if someone bought it for me But really, it's the cape that makes it.

This is the only dress that said "Valentino" to me. It was his classic red. It was perfectly cut. It was feminine and elegant and wait till you see the back. This is a dress that would blow a man away when he opened the front door to pick you up for a black-tie affair.

You make a great entrance, but man, look at that exit. Your ass looks like heaven and your shoulders and back are stellar. This is an A+ and I'm not surprised they ended the show with this. Perfection.

Dedicatedly yours,

—One of 365

When you look at your reflection in your business card holder, I know you want to see a "killer" but not THIS kind of killer. Not a PSYCHO. You want to see a killer of a person. An ace of a guy or gal. Not someone's pain in the ass. Disperse them carefully. Don't become that person whose card lies at the bottom of a purse where in a year's time a woman, when cleaning it out says, "Who the hell is this?" and trashes it. Watermarks, embossing--it doesn't matter--choose wisely my friends. Choose wisely.

Dear Ethers,

I’ve noticed in Los Angeles that everyone hands you a business card.  They come in all shapes, sizes, finishes.  Do you remember the scene in “American Psycho” when Patrick Bateman freaks out because one of his peers has (hark!) a watermark on HIS business card making it FAR more superior than anyone else’s in the room?  Of course this was a farce on 80’s opulence and competition, but the joke is that it still exists in 2009. 

I’m handed business cards left and right.  I could be sitting at a café and a guy could be walking by.  He and I could be having a lovely chat and then I see him making the “move.”  I know the signal.  I simply asked his name.  Instead of just answering—no—he must “show me.”  His hand glides into his back pocket tugging at his wallet and he opens his billfold carefully plucking out a lustrous card proud and grinning.  I’m usually caught off guard because his profession is nothing I’m terribly interested in, and I have to act effusive to not offend the man.  Also, I feel like our chat has been a fake PR stunt for him to try and gain business from me all so he could have the opportunity to make his “move.”  

I was sitting with English gent getting coffee and this regular oldish man stopped to say his hello’s because we admired his dog.  He then went on to talk about his age (74—and he DID look good) and how he kept fit and active by walking.  We were about to say our good-byes, when I noticed “the move.”  OH NO!  Not from a 74 year old man!!!!  Yep, this guy was a portrait painter and had a card with one of his paintings he was quite proud of in full color on the front with his details on the back.  “Call me if you ever want your portraits done.”  I told English gent I feared he might be dead by the time we ever picked up the receiver.

I go to press events, and this is a fair place to exchange business cards.  I don’t have one, which is actually unfortunate because it would be rather useful to give someone my details to try and get more freelance work.  But, people tend to give me theirs and that’s a great and normal opportunity to do so.  But then I get the whackos at these parties who have zero reason to give me their card.  The paparazzi guy (when the hell am I going to need his services?)  The security guard at an event (ummm……if I ever become famous, maybe?)  The girl working the toilets at an event gave me her card, her long acrylic nails with a hoop through her pointer finger showing me her exact e-mail address where she could be reached if I ever wanted hair extensions (my hair was down and hangs mid-way down my back).  I mean EVERYONE has a business card.  In Los Angeles this must be the most lucrative business in town.

I had business cards when I worked in London and RARELY did I give them out.  Even if I had them on me and knew someone wanted one, I would pretend I didn’t and would just say call the main switchboard.  First of all, it had my mobile on it and I didn’t want PR’s calling me after hours.  Secondly, I don’t want to be that accessible.  Maybe if I was in sales, but truthfully, just ask for my information.  I know a business card is easier.  People don’t have pens yadda, yadda….but in the days of the Blackberry and iPhone’s it’s easy to punch in some numbers.

I think to some people a business card means you ARE somebody.  But to me, if you’ve got to show who you are, then you’re really are a nobody.  If you’re just handing them out to be cool, it’s stupid.  If you really are handing a card out after talking to someone for networking purposes, okay, well, that’s what they’re there for.  But please, if you are a personal trainer and start talking to me and we  are having a decent chat and then you just hand me your card out of the blue—I am gonna put it in the bin.  If you are a psychic and I am walking down the street and you walk up to me and tell me “I’m an old soul,” yeah, it’s going in the trash. 

Just remember, you don’t want to be the Christian Bale from “American Psycho.”  So whenever you are making that move to your pocket or wallet, think of this conversation…

 “[Looking at Paul Allen's business card]

Patrick Bateman: Look at that subtle off-white coloring. The tasteful thickness of it. Oh my God, it even has a watermark!

David Van Patten: [re: business card] Good coloring.

Patrick Bateman: That’s ‘Bone’

Dedicatedly yours,

—One of 365