Monthly Archive: March 2010

Possible Post-Ungaro Career Moves for Lindsay Lohan

Following her disastrous collection, Lindsay Lohan has been fired from Emanuel Ungaro. Now that her career in haute couture is derailed, what can our plucky LiLo do next?

* VIP cocktail waitress in Vegas — if Rachel Uchitel could land a man like Tiger Woods from this job, think about the guy or girl Lindsay could land.
* Molson Beer Girl — it worked out really well for Pamela Anderson. That said, does it matter that Lindsay isn’t from Canada?
* Celebrity personal assistant — because it would be karmic retribution for treating her own assistants like crap.
* Drug dealer — cut out the middleman!
* Dancing with the Stars contestant — seriously, I can’t believe she hasn’t done this one already. Think how awesome it would be if Maks was her partner.
* DJ — if you can’t be with the one you love, honey, love the one you’re with.
* Girl Next Door — now that the Shannon twins have moved out of the Playboy Mansion, Hef is in the market for some more girlfriends. Lindsay could get her own room!
* John Mayer’s New Girlfriend — doesn’t pay, but the publicity can’t be beat.
* Body double in Twilight — simply having her name attached to that film couldn’t be a bad idea at this point in her career.

See more at The Gloss.

Read more: Rachel Uchitel, Hugh Hefner, John Mayer, Twilight, The Girls Next Door, Lindsay Lohan, Pamela Anderson, Comedy News

Mamas, Don’t Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Lindsays

Parents wanting to name their baby “Lindsay” may want to think twice, after E-Trade Financial found itself at the unintended comedic end of a $100M lawsuit brought about by the actress Lindsay Lohan who claims that the Super Bowl ad for the company defamed her.

The story, appearing in the New York Post, is fairly stunning.

Ms. Lohan, who just watched her fashion career with Ungaro sink faster than a submarine with screen doors, seems to think that she is in the same class of celebrity as “Oprah” or “Angelina,” when the truth is that her co-star Herbie is probably better known as a first-name actor.

The suit was filed in a Nassau County (NY) court. No word yet as to whether terrorists have spiked the water in Nassau with hallucinogens or other narcotics that might explain what would prompt area lawyer Stephanie Ovadia filing this suit for Ms. Lohan. I guess if the cash is green and you can avoid openly laughing when someone with a first name shared by millions of other people comes and tells you that she wants damages for use of her uniqueness, you can file almost anything.

First, watch the commercial, if you haven’t seen it already:

Now I’ve seen this commercial a few times, and I cannot say with a straight face that I ever found any reason to suggest that it was riffing on Lindsay Lohan.

Perhaps if the male baby had said something like: “Lindsay? Oh you mean that skanky freckled-face bi-sexual baby and media ho?” Then maybe she might have a point.

E*Trade should give her a million for the free publicity.

What’s next? Lawyers recommending to y’all that everyone with a child named Lindsay should find a lawyer, develop a slog of class-action lawsuits, and sue E-Trade for defaming your daughter’s good name?

Make sure, by the way, that you file a trade or service mark for your child’s name at birth, as Lindsay’s mom apparently has done.

Lindsey Graham is thinking about filing a similar suit, as are Lindsay Wagner and Lindsay Price and Lindsay Hartley and Lindsey Vonn.

I’m thinking, for my son, Holden, to compel the Salinger estate to recall every copy of “Catcher in the Rye,” and to demand that the name “Holden Caulfield” be replaced with “Iggy Caulfield” Let the guys named Iggy fight that one out.

I can see the 15-minutes-of-fame thing as a selling point to the lawyer, but, unless there is some brilliant strategy on the part of Ms. Lohan’s agent and management in making her look like a complete fool and spend a week as the subject of jokes on the nighttime shows instead of pitching her upcoming projects on them, then I can’t see the win here.

Even New York and LA area crack dealers are sitting back and shaking their heads at this one.

Lindsays ain’t easy to love and they’re harder to hold.
They give you a song-and-dance and demand diamonds and gold.
Designer buckles and old faded jeans,
And each night begins a new binge.
If you don’t like their acting as teens,
Now it’ll probably make you cringe.

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be Lindsays.
Don’t let ’em make movies or design fashion lines,
Let ’em be actresses and publicity-hounds and such.
Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be Lindsays.
‘Cos they’ll never stay home and they’re always alone.
Even with someone they love.

Lindsays like smokey old club rooms and all kinds of liquor,
Little Gucci handbags and bad boys and girls of the night.
Them that don’t know her won’t like her and them that do,
Sometimes won’t know how to take her.
She ain’t wrong, she’s just different but her pride won’t let her,
Do things to make you think she’s right in the head.

Mamas, don’t let your babies grow up to be Lindsays.
Don’t let ’em on Leno or Letterman too,
Let ’em do Kimmel and Ferguson and such.
Mamas don’t let your babies grow up to be Lindsays.
‘Cos they’ll think they’re bigger than they are,
And sue someone for using the name.

Ms. Lohan, you’re no Oprah. Leave your comedy career on the silver screen, and keep it out of the courtroom.

My shiny two.

Read more: Herbie, Lindsay Lohan, E*Trade, Angelina Jolie, Herbie the Love Bug, Humor, Comedy News, Hollywood, Comedy, Lawsuits, Oprah Winfrey, Lohan Sues E*Trade, E*Trade Lawsuit, Entertainment, Law, Oprah, Angelina, Funny, Entertainment News

The Perfect Present – Week 5 Of "Mental Muscle" Boot Camp

Part seven in a series.

As I went through “Be Present” week of “Mental Muscle” Boot Camp, a life-changing experience from the past was never far from my thoughts.

Two years ago, a fight with a longtime friend escalated while I was at work and could not speak by phone. Fierce emails were traded back and forth. By the time I left the office that night, I was in a complete rage.

As I got in my car and turned the ignition, the fight continued in my head. My anger remained at a fever pitch as I planned out what I’d say the next time my friend and I might speak.

Then I remembered a passage from Eckhart Tolle’s “A New Earth” about car accidents and a person’s state of consciousness when they’re involved in one. I recognized that I was not fully paying attention and primed to have an accident if I did not find a way to calm down.

Tolle’s primary lessons are about being in “the present moment” or “the now.” I took a deep breath and decided to put my focus squarely on what was happening in that exact moment and nothing else. I started out in silence, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the fight. I doubled my focus by speaking every thought about the present moment out loud.

“I am driving.”

“I am driving and breathing.”

“I am driving and looking at that red stop light.”

“I am driving and watching that dog pee on the lawn.”

….and so on, for the entire half-hour trek home.

By the time I walked into my apartment, I was completely calm. Whatever rage I felt was gone. The fight was now in the past and I was not about to interrupt the calm by bringing it back into the present.

With this experience, I ingrained an understanding of what it means to be fully engaged with the present moment. So, I wondered what reactions “Be Present” week in Boot Camp would bring up as I’d already incorporated this practice into my life.

One of James Mellon’s directives was to take an hour and do something fulfilling that was “outside the norm.” I was spooked by those words, “outside the norm”, because I had no clue what that would be. I immediately went to the “Mental Muscle” blog to express that.

As I wrote that I already take an hour to do something fulfilling every day, a voice from the past rose up. During a breakup, someone said to me, “I think all you like to do is watch television and go to movies.” With those words, I bought into a belief that my world is small and I am limited in what I like to do.

Three days later, James read that aloud during one of the chat sessions, and said, “Who gets to judge what you like to do? Maybe you’re just specific in what you enjoy. How about that? How about getting rid of ‘I am limited’ and instead saying, ‘I know me. I know who I am. I know what I like and I’m open to liking more things’?”

I had never thought of it that way. I held on to an ex-boyfriend’s words for almost 20 years and allowed them to define me. This was just another reminder of how easy it has been to carry negative events from my past into the present.

Recently, I’d made a decision to welcome a new room-mate into my apartment. My landlord had final say over my choice. When we spoke, he made his reservations clear, but also said, “I trust and have faith in you and know you’ll be responsible.”

I didn’t focus on that part of what he said at all. I was stuck on the fact that he had reservations about my choice. I was now rethinking a decision I had been solid with for days. The possibilities of what could go wrong came up. What if I was about to make a mistake?

This is a pattern. I tend to discount my own voice because I think people I trust know better for me than I know for myself.

I was with a friend and fellow Boot Camper, AJ, when I hung up the phone with my landlord. I talked out the fear, trying to understand why I was blocked when five minutes prior, I was so certain. Once I came to a conclusion, I thanked AJ for being there. He said, “I didn’t do anything. You did it.”

What I had done was recognize that I was trying to outguess the future, and therefore, not present. I can be incredibly fearful of making a mistake. It’s as if I want to be absolutely perfect with every choice I make, so there will be no regrets.

Ultimately, I see that is all about a need for control and “staying safe.” Of course, I don’t want negative outcomes, but I can’t control whether or not they happen.

In a way, this experience repeated itself on Monday. I wasn’t feeling well and spent an hour debating whether I should call in sick to work. All I could think about was work getting backed up and how overwhelmed I would feel when I returned.

My present state of physical health and taking care of myself so I could be functional was less on my mind than future consequences from my absence. That is definitely not “the now.” I wound up calling in.

Compared to the intensity of previous weeks of Boot Camp, I felt like I got a bit of a breather this week. At the very least, I am glad to be reminded that letting go of the past, and stopping projection into the future, can only lead to a perfect present.

Read more: Science of Mind, Eckhart Tolle a New Earth, Being Present, Spiritual Boot Camp, The NoHo Arts Center for New Thought, New Thought, Eckhart Tolle, James Mellon, Mental Muscle, Anxiety, Spirituality, Meet the Press, Lindsay Lohan, Lady GaGa, Happiness, Libya, The Inner Life, Living News

Crashing Fashion Week: The Final Day

Missed my previous Fashion Week diaries? Find them here.

You’ll notice that while this post is titled “Crashing Fashion Week: The Final Day,” Fashion Week is not actually over. That’s because I didn’t get invited to any shows past Tuesday. You’d think that after getting my chin featured so prominently in Fashion Week Daily I’d get a personal male model escort to the front row at Narcisco Rodriguez, but sadly, it was not to be. Instead I got to spend my final day as a fabulous person freezing my tuchus off in the New York Public library and stealing another HuffPost editor’s identity.

12:00 PM

I arrive at the New York Public Library (for non-New Yorkers, this is the main library with the lions, perhaps better known as the one that was haunted at the beginning of Ghostbusters). As I climb the icy steps with the other fashionistas, I hear one of them scoff “This show is a joke; anyone can get in.” (Um, not Lindsay Lohan apparently. This, by the way is a variation on the bitching I heard at the Project Runway finale; fashion peeps hate to be invited to anything not exclusive. They usually either deride the show they’re at as unworthy or fall all over themselves talking about how hot a ticket it is. I say, just shut up and be glad you have a seat and a goody bag. Gawd.)

Could you guess from that last line that for the second time this week, I am given standing room? I wouldn’t normally mind except that it is fucking chilly in here–the runway is literally set up right in the main lobby (aka “Astor Hall”), mere steps from the doors, which have been left open to let all of the fashionably late people in. I don’t even bother taking off my coat or Muppet gloves, and pass the time playing Brick Breaker on my BlackBerry in between scanning the crowd for famous faces. The one person I recognize is Andrea Linett, the creative director of Lucky magazine but more importantly (to me, anyway), a former Sassy editor. Oh, Sassy, how I miss you!

The Jill Stuart runway is curved, and snakes off beyond my field of vision. It basically forms a right angle, so there are two photographer pits, one at the elbow of the runway and one at the end. Around 12:30 the photographers at the elbow start going apeshit and their flashes go off with the intensity of Daniel Farraday’s hydrogen bomb on Lost. “Anna Lynne!” they are shouting. “Anna Lynne!” I regret to inform you that I know who this is: Anna Lynne McCord, from the new version of 90210 that I refuse to watch because it is SACRILEGE. Do not even talk to me about the new Melrose Place. DO NOT EVEN. It still hurts.

Anyway, I never see Anna Lynne or Mena Suvari or any of the other people I hear the photographers clamoring for (Here is a helpful gallery of all the VIPs I was unable to see… you’ll notice a certain noted fashion photographer was after me YET AGAIN. Oh, Nigel, please, stop. It’s getting embarrassing…) but I do beat my record in Brick Breaker, which is something.

The show itself is full of Amazonian models wearing over-the-knee boots with cute minidresses and knitwear. They must be freezing, but Jill has been good enough to provide them all with plenty of nipple coverage.

2010-02-17-JillStuart.png
If they had walked to the Ghostbusters theme it would have been awesome. I should totally consult on fashion show soundtracks.

3:00 PM

I have to run errands between Jill Stuart and Monique Lhuillier and so am accidentally fashionably late to the second. When I arrive at check-in they don’t have my name, so I drop Anya Strzemien‘s name. I explain that Anya is the style editor here at HuffPost, and that it is her seat I’m taking. The clipboard girl sourly hands me a card with Anya’s seat number and I dart into the tent.

No sooner do I locate my seat in the third row than I notice it’s currently being filled by someone else’s ass. “Excuse me, but I think you’re in my seat,” I say to a twentysomething girl, flashing my seating card. She looks confused and shows me her seating card, with the same seat written on it. I take the empty seat next to her, hoping that no one with a clipboard yells at me. After a minute or two I overhear her say “HuffPost” to the girl she’s with. “Do you work at the Huffington Post?” I ask. She nods. Her name is Hilary Moss and she’s a part-time editorial staffer. “Are you taking Anya Strzemien’s seat?” I ask. She says yes. I introduce myself and explain the situation. “Wow,” Hilary says. “I guess they’re not really paying attention to who they let in.” (Note: I’m in no way condoning crashing fashion shows–regardless of the title and subject matter of this blog–but there you have it. Security at these things is as lax as Nadya Suleman’s pelvic floor.) Anyway, as luck would have it no one tries to claim my seat and Hilary and I chat away as actresses Sophia Bush and Melissa George are seated directly in front of us. We try to look engaged in conversation, because nothing would be more embarrassing than showing up on Patrick McMullan’s site staring transfixed at the back of a One Tree Hill star’s head*.

*Melissa George is slightly higher-end, having guest-starred on Alias, In Treatment, and Grey’s Anatomy

Monique Lhuillier’s show is full of lush, gorgeous dresses that were no doubt made with the red carpet in mind. I realize that I have watched way too many episodes of The Rachel Zoe Project when I find myself mumbling “That is perfect for Annie [Hathaway]! I die!” as a red show-stopper comes down the runway.

2010-02-17-Monique.png
Seriously, though, Rachel, you know I’m right.

After the show I say goodbye to Hilary and make my way out of Bryant Park for the last time (I’m scheduled to see the Bebe Kardashian show the next morning but sickness–no doubt caused by my diet of adrenaline, Zone bars, and coffee as well as my inappropriate blizzard attire–forces me to cancel). Just as I burst through the doors that lead back onto 6th Avenue, I find myself face to face with Russell Simmons. He’s much taller than I expected, probably because I’m used to seeing him standing next to Kimora. “What show did you just get out of?” he asks me. ME. Russell Simmons is talking to ME. I am so excited by this that I forget that I don’t really know how to pronounce “Lhuillier.” So I stare blankly at Russell Simmons until he gives up and asks somebody else.

Way to go out with a bang, self. I can’t take me anywhere.

DAY FOUR TOTALS:
Celeb sightings: 3
Swag gifts: 0
Identity thefts: 1
Awkward confrontations with hip-hop moguls: 1

FINAL TALLIES (DAYS 1–4):
Celeb sightings: 39
Swag gifts: 5
Project Runway contestant sightings: 18
Fashion editor sightings: 3
Appearances in Fashion Week Daily: 1
Pseudo-dates with noted fashion photographer Nigel Barker: 2
Awkward backstage interviews: 3
Identity thefts: 1
Awkward confrontations with hip-hop moguls: 1
Transformative life experiences involving Alexis Colby Carrington Dexter Rowan: 1

Blogging about it all for The Huffington Post: Priceless

Thanks for reading, everybody! Maybe they’ll let me back next year. And hey, if you like these misadventures, check out my blog, The Sassy Curmudgeon.

Read more: Style, Fashion Week, Mercedes Benz Fashion Week, Lindsay Lohan, Mena Suvari, Russell Simmons, Anya Strzemien, Nigel Barker, AnnaLynne McCord, Jill Stuart, Sophia Bush, Comedy, Monique Lhuillier, Melissa George, Style News

Stanton Peele: Howard Stern’s Right About Gabourey Sidibe

Not as well known for his health recommendations as for offending people, Howard Stern actually is a keen student of health behavior. In his own life, he significantly modified his diet, exercise, and substance use patterns. Stern’s recommendations tend to be moderate (he doesn’t abstain from alcohol, for instance), common-sensical, and self-initiated — as the changes (including overcoming OCD) were in his own life.

From this perspective, Stern observed that Gabourey Sidibe is deluding herself if she thinks her Academy Award will lead her to a career as an actress. There are simply not enough roles for a woman her size. But Stern’s advice goes deeper. Sidibe won’t be around that long if she weighs 300 pounds at 26. While she can be active and healthy through her 20s and perhaps her mid-30s, she can’t handle that weight into her 40s — particularly if she gains more.

A discussion of Sidibe’s weight inevitably calls forth all kinds of reactions — including claims of prejudice against heavy people, women, and African Americans — all of which she is. She is also bound to be unhealthy. Sidibe and her mother, Alice Tan Ridley, seem to recognize this, sort of:

The truth is Gabourey would like to lose some weight but the reality is that she would not have gotten the role of Precious if she had not been heavy. As her mum I would like to see my daughter healthy but if she didn’t lose weight that’s not a problem either — it runs in our family. We have relatives that are 80 who are too heavy.

The last part of her statement is the wishful thinking of the addict — “I know a smoker in his 80s.” Yes, but you sure reduce your odds of reaching 80 if you smoke. And you will most likely create subsidiary health issues that will increasingly dog you through life (trouble breathing and sleeping, poor circulation, lingering colds and coughs). There is no free lunch.

I have a rehab treatment center, one where we address both substance abuse and health behavior. We don’t tell people they have a problem — they’re aware of that when they arrive at St. Gregory. Obviously, we don’t belittle them or put them down. Instead, we simply remind them and ask them to reflect on what we both know to be true — that they need to change. We work with them to convert that motivation into reality. And we are there to point out the life benefits they experience as they make such changes.

Hollywood types are notable for their refusal to make judgments of others, and so you won’t find any show business personalities taking on Sidibe’s weight. When Sidibe started salivating over male hunk Gerard Butler at the Oscars, no one — least of all Butler, who politely played along — told Sidibe she isn’t going to get a hit of that, or much else. Only Howard Stern is willing to pass along that news.

And, oh, perhaps Michelle Obama, if she’s serious about confronting youthful obesity no matter what that requires. While people ARE willing to take on Lindsay Lohan and Brittney Spears for providing bad role models for young women around substance use, and people are always criticizing models for being dangerously thin, what about Sidibe and the rampant obesity among children, especially African American children? Is that worth pricking a few balloons over?

Read more: Childhood Obesity, Howard Stern, Precious, Gabourey Sidibe, Gay Marriage, Michelle Obama, Lindsay Lohan, Brittney Spears, Anorexia, Emaciated Models, St-Gregory-Addicton-Center, Drug Abuse, Living News

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