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Lisa Simeone
Charm City
Recent Activity
Looks like it's tit for tat, as Turkish citizens reported the same singling-out and strip-searching in Israel as the Israelis reported in Turkey, though several readers here seem intent on ignoring part of the story. The U.S. also treats people this way. Talk to citizens -- American and foreign -- who've had to deal with Customs & Border Patrol. It ain't all fun and games. Bottom line: It's wrong, no matter who's doing it.
Randall, I think you hit the nail on the head in more ways than one here. The tendency to conform -- in all things, not just fashion -- is shared by more people than not. So I think it makes sense that most people just opt for whatever's easier, whatever most other people are wearing. It does indeed, as srp seems to agree, take some effort to develop a personal style. It also takes independent thinking. Knowing oneself, knowing not just one's desires but also one's limitations, being willing to take a risk. Those are attributes that most people either don't have or aren't interested in.
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I didn't even notice the cigarette. In fact, I didn't know what you were talking about until I scrolled down to the comments. At first I thought you might mean the dress was actually manufactured in Italy as well as sold there (the ateliers listed in the corner). First of all, I think it's deliberate that the cigarette is so invisible it seems to blend in with the vines behind it. Second, there's no smoke emanating from it. It looks like a pen. She's not sucking on it (very suggestive), she's not even looking at it. It's just a loose thingie, unattached to anything. Anyway, Italy instituted no smoking in restaurants and bars over five years ago, with barely a peep of objection from the populace. Can France be far behind?! (yes)
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Eeeek! No, you couldn't pay me any amount of money to wear any of the things depicted here (including the ridiculous ripped jeans -- what is it about people and ripped jeans??!).
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I'm not normally a fan of Camille Paglia, but here it's like she read my mind: " . . . nor much stimulation in the male display department: visually, American men remain perpetual boys, as shown by the bulky T-shirts, loose shorts, and sneakers they wear from preschool through midlife. The sexes, which used to occupy intriguingly separate worlds, are suffering from over-familiarity, a curse of the mundane. There’s no mystery left." http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/27/opinion/27Paglia.html?src=me&ref=general
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Americans, by and large, look like slobs. Especially in comparison with Europeans -- though that's starting, slowly, to change, as more Europeans adopt American styles. On the street, at a mall, in a restaurant, at the theater, at an airport, on the train, I'm continually amazed at how sloppy Americans look. Tourist season in DC is upon us, and my god, entire families, all dressed alike -- I want to ask Mom (yes, Mom, too) and Dad, "is there a reason you're dressed exactly like your 10-year-old son?" And hey, let me head this off at the pass right now -- it's not about money. Don't somebody post some sanctimonious comment about how it must be nice to be rich and most people can't afford nice clothes and blah blah blah. Bullshit. Most people, whether in DC or Baltimore or Paris or Rome or New York or Minneapolis or Charlotte or San Diego -- most people -- are middle-class. But middle-class people in Paris or Rome don't dress as hideously as middle-class people in Baltimore or DC or take-your-pick. They don't look like crap. My father grew up in poverty in Italy during the War, which means he also starved while the Allies and Axis powers were bombing the hell out of each other for months. He knew what money meant. He never had a lot of it. He worked his ass off to ascend into blue-collardom in this country. And he never, ever dressed like a slob. You don't have to spend a fortune just to wear something other than oversized T-shirts, lumpen shorts, and athletic shoes. Oh, and with the fillip of a baseball cap, too, turned backwards, no less, let's not forget that lovely feature. Look around. The modern American style of dress says: "I'm just about to clean out my garage, or already have." Is that supposed to be some kind of expression of proletarian seriousness? "Wow, look at me, I'm so busy thinking serious thoughts and doing the important work of the world, I can't be bothered to look clean and put-together; that's for sissies, that's for effete rich people. I'm a real person." Right. I'm not a real person. Because I look like a grown-up when I step out into the world. P.S. Hats off to Doctor Science for the most compelling argument in this thread.
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I, too, was in a cave until I saw the cast on Oprah a few weeks ago. Being a musical theater fan, I had to find out all about this Glee thing. Now, several episodes later, count me as a dyed-in-the-wool Gleek! (And loved the Sue-Sylvester-as-Madonna trick, though our satellite went out for the Lady Gaga episode so I still haven't seen it -- aargh! Waiting for a repeat.)
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Adults buying $75 dolls?? For what? To perch atop their dressers collecting dust? Can't imagine who would be interested in these other than children, but then I can't imagine a lot of things people do. Maybe the makers are onto something. Still, I bet these are going to be bought by rich, overprivileged people for their rich, overprivileged children who already have every other Barbie in the book. Mad Men is such a classy, well-written show. How jarring to see these goofy bug-eyed dolls in imitation of it.
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I, too, don't think "cute" and "glamorous" can coexist at the same moment. Ask any woman over 30, and I bet she'll tell you she doesn't want to be considered cute anymore. Cute is for girls. Glamorous is for women. Of course I still use the word "cute" for women at times, and I don't mean any condescension when I do, and yes, I understand what people are saying here using examples such as Audrey Hepburn, Myrna Loy, etc. (though count me in with those who think the divine Myrna was deeply glamorous, and witty, and anything but cute). But I have found that men tend to use "cute" much more often when describing attractive women (my husband does this all the time when I prance around in some new frock, which drives me crazy -- "I don't want to be cute!") whereas women tend to appreciate more the difference between "cute" and "glamorous" or "sophisticated" or just plain "beautiful." Overall, I agree with Virginia that "cute" is innocent, while "glamorous" is worldly.
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Terribly sad. Such a visionary, such a dreamer. Such an artist.
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I'm so in love with Victorian and Arts & Crafts design, that I've found myself subscribing to several like magazines rather than anything modern. (True confessions: I've never even held a copy of Elle Decor. Quelle horreur!) I subscribe to Old House Journal, Old House Interiors, Style 1900, and several William Morris publications. I spend so much time oohing and aahing and swooning over them, I might just have to buy a fainting couch! (Glamourous, n'est-ce pas?!)
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Unfortunately, Americans dress like slobs most of the time, whether they're flying or not (and it has nothing to do with the inane, pointless so-called security procedures). Most Americans look like they're ready to clean out the garage, or already have, as they go about their daily business. It's very dispiriting. Since we don't go around naked (well, not yet, but give the TSA time) and have to wear something, why shouldn't that something be aesthetically pleasing? There's so much brutality and barbarity in the world already; beauty is always needed. I think one has to make one's own glamour and try to create beauty in everyday life (oh, and this also has nothing to do with money -- my parents are as blue-collar as you can get, and one grew up in poverty, yet they believed in looking put-together, not like they just rolled out of bed).
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Sorry, gotta go with the concubines here. Although it is a tad too frou-frou for my tastes, it's just a tad. Whereas the Zen one reminds me of a prison cell. I am, however, all in favor of white white white and nothing-but-white sheets and bedcovers. I prefer to let the color in the rest of the room do the talking. (And must confess I love Fragonard!)
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