Sign Of The Apocolypse?

My friend, Katherine, (who like me, is all knowing and curious with Celebrity Fluff) informed me today that Vanity Fair Magazine just released it's 69th Annual International Best-Dressed List for 2008. This list is based on votes from its readers, who are supposedly high brow, right?

Tilda Swinton was on the list. Yes, Tilda Swinton.

Are you serious? Yes, unfortunately, Vanity Fair is very serious and it's not a joke. Of course, I wouldn't be laughing should the magazine have been attempting a bit of humour. This woman, actor, Scot, what have you, has about as much fashion sense as David Arquette and Diane Keaton combined.

I can applaud the choices of Kate Middleton, whose subtle sophisticated style is reminiscent of her boyfriend's late mother, Diana, Princess of Wales. Or Michelle Obama, whose classy, yet chic, style is a much welcome throwback to the days of Jackie O and Camelot. Yet as I scroll through the rest of the list of names chosen I realize that there is seriously something wrong here.

Take, for example, Iris Apfel, or Julian Schnabel . What is going on here? Have the readers of Vanity Fair lost their fashion mojo too? Is this a sign of the Apocolypse? Surely. But really, it's the choice of Tilda Swinton that truly boggles my mind and has me running for my Bible to read the book of Revelations. In case you need a reminder of Ms. Swinton's attempt at fashion, I refer you to one of my favorite sites, Go Fug Yourself, which has done such a wonderful job at keeping track of Swinton's fashion offender record, where if you keep scrolling down, you'll see multiple mug shots. Oh, and lest we forget the ginormous fashion faux-pas she made as not only a nominee, but a winner of the 2008 Academy Award for Best Actress. It was truly an insult to all of us who take Red Carpet fashion seriously.

The only saving grace is that not only did they recognize Middleton and Obama but they included some nice double-the-pleasure eye candy with brothers Andrea and Pietro Clemente and another fraternal pair, Brothers Rafael, The Duke of Feria and Don Luis Medina. Maybe there's a glimmer of hope for VF readers. But it's doubtful.

We Need A Bedding Superhero

Picture if you can, the voice of Don Lafontaine as he narrates the preview of this fall's blockbuster movie:

"In a world, where ugly bedding ran amuck in bedrooms, where catalogs had been invaded by gawdy fabric designs, there was a girl who worked in a bedding store. Her life, and the state of the world, was forever changed one night as she closed up shop...."

That's my intro for a new superhero movie. You see, I am currently 24+ months into my search for bedding. Years ago, as a youngster, there was nothing more exciting than every few years having my mom tell me it was time to update my bedroom.. So I'd pull down the Sears & JC Penney Catalogs and sprawl out on the floor, pouring over the different possiblities. I love bedding and the chance to pick out new colors and decor. Well, I used to. I don't anymore. That's because in the past few years the bedding world has been suffering. It's been taken over by fabric that isn't practical and fabric designs that are either boring or hideous. I have found nothing that even remotely is to my liking.

I'll admit that the first few years of drought were my own fault. I made the mistake of assuming that my husband would not consider sleeping underneath a comforter with a floral design. I was all too delighted to learn a few weeks ago that he, not feeling that his manhood would be in jeopardy, is completely open to the use of hydrangeas, ferns, and roses on fabric! Who knew? Yes, ladies, go ahead and be jealous. I do have a pretty darn good husband.

Yet even with this new discovery I am still scraping the bottom of the well to only pull up an empty bucket. I've spent hours on the Net looking at every possible website and online catalog. Ebay? Check. Pottery Barn and Crate & Barrel? Check. Garnet Hill or the Company Store? Check. I've even pounded the pavement on my evenings after work and weekends entering and exiting the doors of Linens-N-Things, Bed Bath & Beyond, World Market, Marshall's, Home Goods, Ross, Belk, Macy's, JC Penney, Sears, Target, K-Mart,....Is that enough? And what do I come up with? Nada. Zilch. Ne rien.

You see, I guess most people would say I'm picky. I choose to say I'm selective. Some people don't spend much time in their bedroom. I do. At least 6 hours a night. My dog spends even more. Then there are the sick days, the late sleep-in's, the Nelson's-watching-Food Network-so-I'll-watch-TV-in-bed evenings, or just the lazy afternoons I'll spend reading a book in bed while Curious Jorge and Mr. Guppy curl up with me. So this is a very important decision!

First of all, I must have a duvet. Why? Because I own pets. Need I say more? I've looked for two sheets that I could buy and sew together but would you believe how difficult it is to find pretty patterned sheets that aren't sold as sets?

There's nothing out there! Apparently the trend right now are on the extreme ends of the spectrum and I don't care for either of these extremes. You either have theplain solid comforters or ones with maybe one stripe across it. You know, very feng-shui, I guess? I'm sure that Vern Yip would love them. On the other end, you have these gawdy bright floral creations that make my mom's old bedspread from 1972 look tame. And if you want to maintain some sort of middle of the road normalcy all you have to choose from are the paisley or floral look that you see in ever hotel room made by Ramada, Hampton, Days, Holiday, or Comfort Inn. Yuck.

So now I realize that we need a superhero. A bedding superhero to come and save the world and re-introduce fun yet tasteful, nice yet practical bedding. Enough of the embroidered multi-textured fabrics. Enough of the cherry blossoms on silk fabric which would only look good inside a Japanese Tea House. No more simplistic and flower power designs She (or he) would begin designing and producing in large numbers bedding that yet again is fun and desirable but affordable. And there would be duvet covers for each pattern as well. Why? So that for those of use whose animals treat the polyfiber filled comforters like stuffed animals and chew them to shreds there would always be, "The Duvet Option."

What would we call this bedding superhero? The Coverlet Crusader? The Bastion of Bedding? Maybe I'll take this idea and travel to Comic Con next year. Hmm....I'll have to keep working on this. In the meantime, back to catalogs....

GONE BUT NEVER FORGOTTEN

Right now as I write the entertainment world is alive with buzz and excitement. With sluggish box-office sales suffering from a faltering economy and high gas prices, Hollywood has been unable to really pull moviegoers back to the box office in droves. But it might finally have been able to lure them back due to a superhero action film called The Dark Knight. You may have heard of it? Sequel to 2005's Batman Begins, another Batman movie franchise which tells the story of Bruce Wayne's early days as he ascends the ladder to be the fighter of crime, good over evil? While props and credit are due to the film's creative and thoughtful director, Christopher Nolan, and it's wonderful cast of stellar artists, one name and face outshines them all: Heath Ledger.

Unfortunately, Heath passed a way in January of this year and he is not hear to personally receive the accolades he not only deserves, but would be so uncomfortable to receive as well. Enough is being reported on other blogs, news sites, and television shows about Heath's chilling portrayal as The Joker. It's being hailed as "iconic," "chilling," "incredible," and even "Oscar worthy." As for me, I am full of mixed emotions. I am proud of him, I am excited to see his performance, but I am also very sad. I am being reminded again of senseless loss that the world experienced with his sudden passing.

You see, I was and still am one of the most ardent fans of Heath Andrew Ledger, a young Australian actor who died earlier this year. But I feel like I have more to say than just that I was a huge fan of him and his work. It's more personal than that.

In 2000 I was a single working female living in Atlanta, GA. Although I was living close to family, I was short on friends, void of romantic possibilities, and completely at a loss as to what was my purpose in life--or if there was one at all. And desperate for some sort of hope. Nothing I tried seem to help. Well-intended nagging from my family did not help. I was stuck, drowning in my own misery and feeling utterly helpless.

Had I not gone to see Mel Gibson's new film The Patriot one weekend in July 2000 I'm not sure where I'd be now. You see, I had read the review and seen the photo in my People Weekly of this new actor named Heath Ledger and Gibson's latest film. Always a fan of period pieces and of Gibson's work I was curious to see the film and see the performance of this new Hollywood arrival.

Now, I've had my share of celebrity crushes. I've had lots of 'em. I've also been moved by lots of actors' work. I can honestly say, though, that there was something about Heath and his portrayal as young Gabriel that drew me in as soon as he appeared in his first scene. Some of my friends and I have guessed it was his overall presence, those brooding, piercing brown eyes. I don't know what it was but he mesmerized and made an impression on me like nothing I'd experienced before. And while this performance would not be considered his best, he was able to convey something to both moviegoers and studio executives, drawing them in and leaving an impression.

By the following Monday I had begun to research this young actor. By Wednesday I'd gathered all my information and been quite pleased to learn that not only did we share so many of the same interests and opinions, but there was already a really good website devoted to him!

Again, I don't understand what exactly it was that continued to make me so mesmerized. I can only theorize that the Gods must have set it in motion or the planets happened to be aligned just right. Because as I continued to learn more about Heath I became inspired. Here I was, 26 yrs old, and being inspired by someone five years my junior. But he seemed to have a passion and was unashamed to have them which made him, to me, and so many, an old soul. Heath inspired me to begin writing more, to dream more, and to not be ashamed to dream. On the website I began talking regularly with other fans. While I'd had my share of e-pals and correspondences over the years, I found a lot of these ladies that I met here to be different. Like me, (and Heath) we shared so many common interests, passions, and goals. It was as if, for the first time in my life, I had found friends who really understood me and loved me for who I am. The only problem was that they were scattered across the globe and not available for a late night coffee at the corner diner.

During one of many postings on the Heath web site's forum I noticed discovered a young girl who was going through the pangs of post-adolescence and she reminded me so much of myself at that age. I felt compelled to reach out to her. We exchanged a few e-mails and one day when she appeared on my instant messaging box, I reached out to her. Except it was not her, but her older brother who was at the computer. I could've not talked and he could've not responded either. But yet again, as with that first sighting of Heath, so too, was there just something different about my first interaction with the older brother. I found myself chatting with the older brother and having a connection. It's something that I just cannot describe. I'd never "clicked" with anyone, really, other than my Heath friends. I sure as heck had never talked with a person of the opposite sex and had it go so well.

Eight years later I am still a Heath fan. I also am now happily married. You know that big brother I accidentally IM'ed? I married him. We've been happily married for six years. Through Heath I not only found inspiration, many girl friends who I consider dear, dear friends, but I found more. I found a soul mate, a best friend, the most wonderful person I know. No longer am I lonely, in despair. I no longer feel that life is just a waste of time through which I must trudge. I found someone who unconditionally loves me and who I am so very thankful to have found.

People always ask how we met. To most I answer that we met through his sister, who was my pen pal. You'd be amazed to see the looks that we receive if we mention that we met through the Internet. But you know what? I'm proud of how we met. It's a unique story that no one else probably can claim, and one that has a happy ending.

So this weekend I am, like most moviegoers, excited about the latest installment of the Batman Trilogy. I will also take time, though, to reflect. To remember how far I've come. Most importantly, to remember how grateful I am to a young man named Heath who bravely stepped out on his own. Who dared to dream big, who inspired me, and who gave me the greatest gifts: friendship and love.

Thanks, Heath.

MISSING!

BEKAHBOO'S FASHION MOJO

LAST SEEN:

SOMEWHERE IN COLLEGE BETWEEN 1993-1996. ACTUAL DATE OF DISAPPEARANCE UNDETERMINED.

KNOWN WHEREABOUTS:

POSSIBLY HIDING IN DELTA BURKE'S CLOSET OR UNDERNEATH TYRA BANKS' FAT SUIT

REWARD:

SHOPPING SPREE AT BARNEY'S WITH VICTORIA BECKHAM (Still ironing out the details)

First, let me sigh. *sigh* There. That helps. I've been toying with this idea for quite awhile--this public plea. You know, putting up posters on telephone poles by intersections, distributing the flyers at the mall on Saturday. I even contacted a couple of dairy farms about the cost to include my plea on a milk carton but thought better of it given the poor taste factor. After years and years of searching I am at a loss. And so, I make my final plea here on the World Wide Web, hoping that someone--someone, will have seen my fashion mojo!

It's been a very rough 10+ years without my mojo. Lonely, dowdy, frumpy, embarrassing. A painful 10+ years filled with ill-fitting shirts, hard-to-find shoes in wide widths that are remotely pretty, lack of pants that will accommodate my Hippo Hips, my normal sized thighs, and short stumpy legs all at a reasonable price.

Now, I for one, am not the Elle Woods or Carrie Bradshaw type whose mantra is "fashion is everything!" But mind you, I have always prided myself on having a fairly good sense of fashion. Why, even my older sister would consult my advice as she crept past 25 and on towards 30 and 35. I always tried to maintain a wardrobe that was relevant to the year in which I was living.

For example, when mini skirts first came back into fashion around the debut of Valley Girls and the show "Square Pegs," who, at only a mere 8 years old, pulled out the JC Penney Catalog and asked her mother to order her a mini dress? Who, at age 9, upon seeing a burst of fluorescent colors on the hangers in Goody's and Sears and JC Penney, made sure to have at least one pair of fluorescent earrings, one shirt that contained hot pink, and at least one pair of fluorescent jellies? In 1985 and 1986, when printed jeans and Miami Vice jackets were all the rage, was I there too? Oh yeah. And then, in 1987 when Bass Loafers, long skirts, and vests became a hippie-chic way of dressing did I decline the invitation? Oh no. Not at all. In fact, I am proud to say that I was the first person in my high school to wear these loafers and vests.

Then, of course, there was the big hair tied up with scrunchies. I had those too. And a jean jacket--Levi Strauss to be exact.. You might laugh now but I had it *snap-snap-snap* goin' on!

Yet somewhere along the way, my mojo began rebelling. Coming and going, never indicating when she'd be back. Oddly enough, this coincided with my ups and downs in the weight category. As life moved on and I entered the adult world her presence became more and more seldom, especially as my weight ballooned and my purse became emptier.

And so it was in Kohl's Department Store yesterday that I had a breakdown. Perusing the Plus Size Clothing I saw nothing short of items that were insulting to me, a once fashion-savvy lady. I held on to the nearest knit top with bright flowers all over it and yelled, "Nooooooo! Mojoooooo! Where are you?"

And so, it is now that I take this moment to offer a public plea. Bekahboo's Fashion Mojo, I miss you. Life has not been the same since you left. I know that I have not been a good home for a fashion mojo. I've gotten fat and fatter and I've stopped caring. I've quit looking at stores like Banana Republic, Limited, Macy's, Nine West, and even the J Crew Outlets. I've resorted to plus-size clothing on the clearance racks, or at CATO or Lane Bryant. And while they try, they just do not make clothing that is up to par with your standards or, frankly, mine.

If I can lose some weight, and fit back into my old size--at least a 12--would you consider coming back? Now, you must know that we will not be able to afford much ever again at Macy's or Limited or Victoria's Secret but there are sales! And since you last were home this great thing on the Internet called Ebay has arrived! We can, if we work together, still help me to look chic and fashionable without the huge price tags. But I can't do it without you, Mojo. I just can't.