Tag Archives: red carpet

Mr. G and The Red Carpet

Iphone 077

My daughters and I went to the Henry Doorly Zoo in Omaha last year. We had a really good time. We loved the sea lions, tigers, and really enjoyed the aquarium but my favorite memory of that day has to do with a gorilla.

This particular gorilla was very nonchalant. He didn’t care that hundreds of people were taking his picture and oohing and aahing over him. He didn’t care that little kids were climbing all over the window to get a glimpse. I would like to think that as a huge star (which he is) if he were to walk the red carpet before an awards show he would meet his public with the same wearisome expression that he has in my picture.

Giuliana would ask Mr. G about the beautiful fur coat he had on for the occasion and he would just shrug and say. “Dahling, I have had this old thing forever. Now, can you direct me to the closest appetizers? Do you know if they are serving Bananas Foster tonight? Oh, and who are these people (pointing to his adoring masses) and why are they here?”

Now please don’t get me wrong. I love an awards show along with everyone else but sometimes I get a little tired of all the paparazzi. I don’t care about the Dugans or Caitlin. I really don’t care about who broke up or who gained or lost weight, how Melissa McCarthy drives (or doesn’t – although I do like her). It just seems like that’s all we do anymore. Even the morning network news shows have more fluff than food for thought. Or, I know…news!

I believe I can understand how some celebs just go off the rails. When you are poked and prodded so much and every little sentence you utter or outfit you wear or opinion you state becomes a viral Boeing 787 I’m sure it can dislodge a piece of your brain that you never thought was there. A piece that becomes its own Dr. Jekyll.  More than likely that is why a lot of celebs throw tantrums, say things they never would have said to their worst enemy, and/or take a punch at a demanding or irritating reporter. I’m not condoning that behavior but I can understand it.

I guess I’m a little like everyone else in how I am infatuated with quote – the famous- unquote. I love George Clooney, admire Sally Field, and am in awe of Meryl Streep and Helen Mirren. I faithfully watch the Real Housewives of New York and yes, always try to catch the Red Carpet interviews before any awards show. But I change the channel, turn the page, or change the subject when I feel oversaturated with any star’s personal drama. I have enough of my own. Don’t care about their’s.

I’d like to think that the Doorly Zoo gorilla doesn’t like all that attention. As he looks out at us crazy humans he is probably thinking, “What the hell? Don’t you people have anything better to do?” And we should have something better to do. Because although Mr. G was very interesting and I really enjoyed watching him, I moved on. Just as all the rest of the zoo visitors that day. Too bad we can’t say the same when it comes to our own species. Do we really need to become a part of their personal dramas? We need to know when to separate our lives from their’s. After all we do have our own lives to live. Can we just move on, please?

Sharon, Emma, and Me


I am fast approaching sixty years old.  It will be here before I know it.  My reading glass strength has to increase every time I turn around.  My skin’s elasticity is competing with the elastic around my favorite sweatpants (I know, only around the house) trying to hold it all together. And I’m not sure about what the weather will do except for the full acknowledgement from my elbow pain when it snows.

Just like most, I’m not happy with this slow progression of age. But I don’t see the sense in giving into the pits of despair either.  I cringe when I walk into a retail clothing store and all I can see in my department are stretch waistband slacks and embroidered flower blouses.  Who buys this stuff? Oh, I know I am no longer into minis and I wouldn’t dare wear a midriff bearing shirt, even at midnight during a power failure.  But i love fashion.  Give me something to warrant this love.

And something did.  Not really something but someone.  Someones actually.  The women we see almost constantly.  Those actresses that appear onscreen  The Emma Thompsons, Helen Mirrens, Judi Denches, Sharon Stone, Glenn Close, Susan Sarandon, Diane Keaton, Meryl Streep. And Sally Field. They always (at least when I have seen them on camera) look put together, classic, and gorgeous.

I love movies, and Breaking Bad, The Good Wife, and all things HBO series-wise.  And I love The Golden Globes. I’m not really sure if it has anything to do with who get’s what award for this one.  I depend on the Oscars and the Directors Guild Awards (DAG) for that.  I just love the party atmosphere that goes with this particular awards show.  Everyone seems so much more relaxed and not so crazy nervous.  Even Harvey Weinstein cut up in this year’s show.  The jokes and the frivolity are great but I love the fashion the best.  The gowns, the jewelry, even the guys looked stunning in their tuxes and suits (for the most part).

That’s why I adore the aforementioned ladies.  I know they can afford much better couture than I can, but that doesn’t mean I can’t attempt to emulate their style.  All great creations trickle down to the masses.  Target is a great example of great fashion at an affordable price.  Sharon Stone created a sensation when she wore a buttoned down white shirt she borrowed form her husband’s closet and paired it with a Vera Wang skirt for the Oscars in 1998.

So, I salute you, mature, wise women of the red carpet.  And Emma (Thompson) you were the epitome of elegance, grace, and c’mon-let’s-have-a-good-time fun at the Globes last night.  Some say she had too much to drink, some say she was bored.  I don’t care.  She was wonderful.  To take a very expensive pair of shoes off, bring your drink onstage (how many of the other attendees would probably have liked to do the same thing?) and then toss said expensive shoes over your shoulder basically saying “F*** this!” Okay, hear this; that’s how I take my fashion nowadays ladies…I’m older.  I have insurance.  “F*** this! I’ll wear what I want to wear!

But at the same time I do have a certain style. And it’s not found in the “I’m Not Dead Yet But I Look It” department of any to-blame retail store.  But I will find it.  I always do.  Even if I have to raid my husband’s closet to get it.