All in the Golden Afternoon

When you buy me my new shoes, I'll probably buy these tights to go with them. But that's just one of multiple styling options.

Nothing works better than a little top-of-mind awareness, kittens!

Seeing the light

I am seething with disappointment (left) to find that my lookalike character, Rachel Menken (left), has yet to reappear on the second season of Mad Men. Not that I have cable television that would enable me to delve into the complicated plot lines (read: fashions) of Matthew Weiner's creation. But, still, it disappoints.

I've decided to exercise my frustration with Betty Draper-like domesticity: time to redecorate. The 2nd bedroom in my apartment has long been a catch-all for textiles, accessories, mismatched decor and crafts. A very unusable space. I have reimagined it as an office, inspired by the set designs of "Pillow Talk," "Desk Set," and, transitively, "Mad Men."

Of course, this means there is now a large and displaced kitchen table (craft table) in my living room, waiting for some prince with trusty truck to haul it away. To the dump. It's trash. But the 2nd bedroom/office is really taking off.

The final push of inspiration came from this lamp:

Mid-Century lamp from Grandma, featuring
burlap-textured shade, gilded plastic base and 3 lighting settings

It's a small thing. I know. But it's so perfectly suited to "the look." My favorite feature is the base, which lights up with a second twist of the switch. But you know, "good lighting is an essential part of decorating your home," according to the Better Homes & Gardens Decorating Book (1961). Dear Better Homes & Gardens, can you please help me place my desk lamp to 1. protect my eyes and 2. enhance my decorating scheme? And, yes, dear BH&G, I am right handed.

"I give myself to good advice, but I very seldom follow it."

Did you ever imagine that Mary Costa, the voice of Disney's Princess Aurora, would be so beautiful?

Today marks the DVD release of "Sleeping Beauty" and gives me an excuse to entertain the relationship between Disney princesses and fashion.

Here, for example, I'm certain that Mary is about to say "Why, yes, I see how the lines of the bodice reflect Eyvind Earle's stylized art direction, but, Marc darling, what kind of shoes is Aurora wearing?" And Marc Davis would say: "THESE."

I realize that in These Uncertain Times, it is somewhat reckless to spend $159.95 (free shipping!) on a pair of 4-inch whimsies. Don't fret: I haven't tumbled down the footwear rabbithole, yet.

But. Look at them. They suit over half-a-dozen Disney heroines: The Blue Fairy, Cinderella, Wendy Moira Angela Darling, Aurora, Alice, Belle, Princess Giselle. Despite their cartoon costume styling, I would definitely take these lovelies off their pink satin pillow more frequently than just Halloween. Yes, I daydream of these darling slippers when I scrub the palace floors.

Christmas is 77 days away. I wear a size 8.5. You fill in the gaps. Don't make me get my fairy godmother.

"I'd like to kiss ya, but I just washed my hair."

In a six decade film career, incurring ten Oscar nominations (even rumored to have nick-named the statuette herself), that quote from the forgettable 1932 film "Cabin in the Cotton" was Bette Davis's favorite line from any of her many films. It doesn't matter too much, except that I think it's adorable and shows Ms. Davis's playful sense of humor.

What really matters here is my affection for the United States Postal Service. Unlike many, and I know there are many because I can hear them grouse in the queue, I don't necessarily hate waiting at the post office. I expect to be detained there. And the post office staff and I get along famously - my slightly under-prepared bulk mailings always squeak by without criticism.

While Bob, Marci, Paula and the rest of the locals have absolutely nothing to do with the USPS postage stamp Legends of Hollywood series, the newly unveiled Bette Davis stamp contributes wholly to my magnanimous approbation for the postal service.

I have endured four years of sub-dazzling USPS Legends of Hollywood offerings. 2006 featured a handsome Henry Fonda stamp followed by a delightful 2007 James Stewart stamp. (Fonda and Stewart were great pals and teased at rivalry: it was only right to bookend them). While I love those two, white guys in suits don't make for compelling stamps. 2004 featured the ultimate Legends let-down: John Wayne. John Wayne, good or bad, is way more emblematic than the parameters of the Legends of Hollywood series allows. Give him a commemorative stamp or something, but don't mix emblems with my icons. I think this chronology indicates that 2005 was Judy Garland, whom I love nearly as much as I'm entranced by her offspring. But I thought the featured image of Judy portrayed an unflattering angle and an unflattering haircut from her otherwise impeccable turn in the 1954 film "A Star is Born."

In terms of classic film actresses, I love Ginger, Norma, Irene, Claudette and the rest (except Joan Crawford, for obvious reasons), but Bette reigns supreme in my hierarchy of Hollywood royalty. So when my mom saw Bette's postage stamp at Post Office this morning, she knew it called for a special delivery to her especially eccentric daughter (what a good Mommie, not at all like that wretched Joan Crawford).

I mean, scroll up a wee: Look at that stamp! Her gently smug expression seems to indicate that, yes, she loves Hank and Jimmy too, but it's time to get back on track with some real stars. And she brought out the diamonds, the sumptuous velvet/fur coat and gunmetal satin gloves (the other hand out of frame, waving a ciggy, I'm certain) for the occasion.

Until postage rates are raised, my correspondence-as-usual will be sealed with bold glamour and all hate mail will bear an extra-special "Go to hell," courtesy of Ms. Davis.

In the words of the esteemed Madonna, "Bette Davis, we love you."