PW OR RHWONYC?
First off I have not heard back from the PW (Pioneer Woman). But we are waiting patiently, something we do not do well at all. PW of CPS wants what she wants when she wants it. Which is why she spends so much time in India, as India is supposed to teach you patience.
So far we are still in phase one, which is not bad considering we’ve been working at it for thirty years now.
Yesterday, while yet another governor turned into Humpty Dumpty, Haitians still are not getting the relief and who knows where we stand with the Taliban, my pressing issue was would I actually venture out into the dark of night despite the fact I still look like a fright mask and attend the premiere party for The Real Housewives of New York?
Now in light of what is going on in the world at large, this is you might say, bupkus, but for me it was something I was spending a lot of time thinking about. I was on the fence, off the fence, straddling the fence.
I thought it would be a good outing for my new eyes. Though they were really not yet ready for public viewing.
Glenn would rather take a bath in molten lava than go to those things, but I had my good friend Kelly Langberg who was up for it.
I did work all AM then headed the long two block trek to see Jon Turk my plastic surgeon, talk about a real housewife of NY- a real NY housewife lives within yelling distance of her plastic surgeon. I fear schizophrenia has taken hold, am I Pioneer or a Real Housewife of NY?
I think I know the answer and not sure I like it.
So Jon scraped away some of the dead – oh forget it TMI even for me, and that is saying something. But aside from being a good PS (such a Real Housewife of NY thing to say, calling your plastic surgeon your PS) aside from his being a great PS, he is a Howard Stern lover and I almost wrote a movie for Howard and do have great Howard stories that can be found on this blog. So we chatted about Howard and then I looked a little better so I called my friend Kelly who is sort of RHWOFNY-ish too and said “let’s go.”
Once I made that decision I needed a new dress. I did.
I did? I didn’t? I so didn’t. But I went to Bergdorf’s anyway, and I know it’s a RHWONYC thing to call it Bergdorfs.
I’m writing myself into a cliché of a human corner here.
So, there I was. Now my big discovery of the week is that it’s very hard to shop in dark glasses. I always wear them, but I used to always take them off inside. With them on you can’t see colors, you can’t see textures, forget sizes and do you know how small the print is when it comes to prices?
Small, very, very small.
But while I was tootling around the 5th floor, Taylor called to tell me that her Blake (as some of you know around the time I lost my Blake, Taylor went to college and got herself a best friend with the name of Blake. I am now OK with that. I have always adored Blake, her Blake, but the name was not easy on the tongue in the beginning.) anyway, she was calling to tell me her Blake was saying if I didn’t go he would never speak to me again.
Well, that sealed the deal; that and an Herve Leger dress exactly like one I had only in a different color. Taylor all the while asking where I was.
“Buying an Herve dress,” I said, sounding, oh don’t even say it – like a we know what.
But then she, sounding like the offspring of a RHWONYC said, “If you buy that you have to buy me something.”
“Excuse me, I’m going to the party for Blake. Blake would have me down on the third floor buying what ever remained from Alexander McQueen’s last collection.”
So, I came home all happy with the thought of going out for the first time in close to two weeks and what better outing than that party?
But, alas, life throws you those damn curb balls and I turned on my computer to be greeted with the news that one of my oldest friends had died that morning. I couldn’t cry, you can’t cry when you’ve had your eyes done. Believe me I have tried, yesterday and today. NO GO. So I did what I do when I don’t know what to do: I wrote. I wrote her a eulogy and posted it and felt better-ish.
But I figured I had to go. Blake was counting on it and Justine in London wanted me to go and I will do most anything for Justine.
So I got into the dress, now the thing is I can’t wear makeup so getting dressed takes a quarter the time. That must be what it’s like to be a guy.
Kelly came by looking cute as always and we had photos taken by Lucy and off we went.
Now, I knew before going what I was in for. This was not an intimate dinner for eight. It was a big ole public relations celebration full of queen bees and wannabees all buzzing.
I have to say I happen to really like the show. But I was very late to the RHWONYC table. Now, actually , it’s the only thing on TV I watch and I’m not just saying that. Since Jon Stewart is on Hulu I never watch TV except the real news. Well, I’m one of those people who thinks Jon Stewart is the real news. But last year after avoiding the show for two seasons I was suckered in.
I always took the I was above it attitude about that show. Sort of like I felt about PW and her decals. But then when Shopaholic came out Elizabeth Hayt from the NY TIMES called me to get my opinion on the HOUSEWIVES as she was doing a piece and she knew I had opinions about most everything, even things I know nothing about. Since this show fell into that category I made something up and her bullshit detector clearly saw through it and my quote didn’t make it into her article.
Now this is a true story. I had been Tivoing it, or Taylor had, for two seasons. Not sure why, we were meant to I guess. So after the whole NY Times debacle I decided to watch it.
One Sunday I watched one show and I swear to God I spent the next eleven hours in bed watching all of them. I was hooked. I even moved on to Atlanta and then, then when those Jersey girls hit the screen, I was an addict.
And Glenn kept saying only stupid people watch this, only stupid people watch this. Now, Mr. There Isn’t A Sport He Won’t Watch, excuse me, we found out all these smart people watch it. Barbara Landreth watches it. Barbara went to MIT. My lawyer watches it. Everyone I knew was watching it. And I mostly know smart people. I’m not bragging; I don’t suffer fools gladly.
And then Glenn started watching it with me. Mostly because he liked watching Bethany. He liked disliking her, or maybe he finds her hot, I don’t know. He would come in when she was on screen and make the bitchiest remarks. I love that about Glenn. Wait til he sees this week’s; she gets totally naked.
Once I was hooked, I was hooked. I started going to Phillipe and drinking skinny margaritas. I even had my birthday there. We had Taylor’s there. We were becoming RHWONY junkies.
Then over the summer we were at our friend’s Maureen and Jerry’s and who walks in but the Countess LuAnn De Lesseps. A RHWONYC IRL.
Taylor and I almost fell off our chaise lounges.
So we all had rose and chatted and she was divine. And I’m not saying that because she is the only one I know or anything. She is a real person and a nice woman and by the end of the summer we were having lunches at Pierre’s and I had myself a RHWONYC gal pal.
I’m glad it was LuAnn. I don’t want to be catty, well, I might, but Ramona, no, not my type. Jill I think we would fight. Kelly, now I have met Kelly and she is very pretty. I must say, she can she wear clothes. She really is one of those girls who can wear a pair of cut offs and a scarf and look amazing, the Kate Moss thing.
Last night she was wearing – you want to know, of course you do- skinny, skinny sequined pants, and this little top, it looked like she could have found it in a thrift shop but you know it was Chloe and she did that thing only a certain type of woman can, she wore a dark bra under her almost see through white top. I love that look.
I vowed to come home and try it, but I know I’ll walk out of my room and Salva will say “ Traaaacey your bra is showing.” But I am going to try it one day when Salva isn’t around.
The fact I’m not a model, five eleven and in my “late thirties” shouldn’t stop me.
But – last night – right, I got sidetracked by bras and which one of mine would look best under a see through blouse. Sorry, it’s kind of been a long day for me. So we go to the party and it’s packed, of course it’s packed, and it’s dark and it’s loud, which parties can be and that’s ok unless you happen to be wearing sunglasses and can’t really see. So Kelly led me around like I was Stevie Wonder at the Grammys.
I also had this giant problem with my camera. I couldn’t get the settings right, which I can’t do under the best of conditions, so take away all my senses except smell and I’m totally lost. I kept going up to paparazzi while they were trying to grab the best shots of Kelly and LuAnn and Jill and I would say, “Could you help me with my light settings here?”
Word of advice: do not go to a NY celebrity promotional event that is packed to the rafters with people and ask the paparazzi to help you with your light settings. They think it’s a ruse to get in front of them and get a better shot . They had no idea I couldn’t see what they were shooting.
One said, “I don’t understand cameras.” He had nine lens hanging around his neck.
Kelly is so cute, she asked someone from one of the TV stations who was an on-camera person to help. The woman was insulted and held up her mic and said “I’m in front of the camera; I don’t work one.”
We wanted to get photos to share with you. I kept saying I have to post it and I can’t see anything.
But I could see some things. I did see LuAnn and she gave me a kiss. Me, Miss Blab Everything told her I was wearing the dark glasses because Jon Turk had just done my eyes. She batted hers and said, “I saw that and thought you might have done something naughty.”
She looked very pretty in sequins and she has amazing legs.
She stopped for a few photos with us. My camera set on something with a tulip in the corner. I knew that was not the right setting for where we were. That was for Martha Stewart’s garden tour.
We were inside, dark, dark, dark, people, people, people.
I Tweeted that I thought maybe Jill Zarin’s husband had had his eyes done as he too was wearing dark glasses.
So we mingled and I bumped into people by accident, and I kept trying to fix the damn camera. And kept taking terrible photos, the best ones are of the bartender.
The party was all about drinking and staring at people– unless you couldn’t see them. They ran the show on these big monitors that were cool, but everyone was so loud you couldn’t hear them and I couldn’t see them that well because of the glasses.
And I was upset about Barnetta and Kelly wanted to get home to her husband Jeffrey. And while I really like LuAnn I didn’t think she would notice if I slipped out.
It was very sweet of her to invite me. And it was fun to say I went.
And if I could have seen and heard and didn’t feel like Helen Keller in an Herve Leger dress I probably would have had some more fun.
I will say this, single girls – or not single girls who want attention, go to a party in a skin tight dress — only works if you are thin or like me have barely eaten in a week– wear dark glasses and have a pouty look on your face. Men cruise you. Or at least I think they were. Kelly said they were.
I only cared about my camera.
We ended up getting home in time for me to watch Real Housewives Of Orange County while eating a peanut butter sandwich while John from downstairs fixed the dishwasher.
Now that is more PW than RHWONYC – except I was still in my Herve Leger dress.
I just asked Lucy which one I was and she said without missing a beat, “Both- no, Real Housewife of NY.”
Oh and Larry I don’t want to hear about the light in these pictures it’s an all time low even for me.
PW OF CPS or RHWONYC