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Fashionista.com Thinks They Know It All

What fashionista.com does not know is the nuance that comes with seating a front row.

I just was reading through the list on fashionista.com about what fashion brands will pay to sit front row during New York Fashion Week. What a crock of hooey. Let me start by saying that part of my business is orchestrating front row talent for assorted companies and none of what they are reporting is true. What I think fashionista.com did was call a slew of garden variety talent agents and received generic quotes. One thing you learn about casting a front row is…never call agents. They love throwing out ridiculous nilly-willy high prices. And that does not even get you anywhere near guaranteeing the talent. Booking talent for front row or any other event or project is not as cut and dry as buying something online. There is no Celebrity Ebay. Sure, people think we have celebrities chilling on ice, that you crack them off one by one when you need to spice up an event, or dazzle the press. But it is a far more complicated process, one that takes years of cultivating relationships. There is much navigating the waters of publicists with agendas, managers with different agendas and the talent, who usually are the nicest people, but the handlers make you think otherwise. Stressful? Sure. What isn’t during Fashion Week?

Does fashionista.com no longer consider Madonna a celebrity?

And as for Marc Jacobs “banning” celebrities from his front row. Is Madonna no longer a celebrity? She was there, with her twinkie in tow. And Perez Hilton surely considers himself a celebrity and he was there as well. Look, don’t take it out on me. If the press would commit to attending shows without a friggen tip sheet, then maybe the crush of celebrity might not be in such high demand. If the press covered the designers for the actual collection, then we’d be in a different game. But we’re not Blanche, we’re not. Yes, talent is a high stakes game. But the economy crashed, remember? And to throw out those numbers like 100 grand for Rihanna and 80 grand for Mary Kate and Ashley Olson is silly. I mean…get a grip. Who on Earth would pay the Olson Twins anything when they have two collections showing at Fashion Week? It is utter nonsense.

Congratulations New Orleans Saints

The best man won.

Not that I am a big football fan, though once you start watching the sport, it’s hard to tear yourself away…for more than one reason. But I watched the Super Bowl and was moved by the win by the New Orleans Saints. As these guys run around the field, bang heads, slap each others’ rear ends and scream like lunatics, it made me think, “What different lives we lead”. Anyhoo…be that as it may…I can only wish this win is the start of great things for New Orleans. And their quarterback Drew Brees is adorable.

Teenage Wasteland.

And what did you think of The Who? Their songs are sooo football, but the performance was Taylor Swift meets Grandpa.

Governor Paterson Scandal To Break

Fasten your sealt belts, it's gonna be a bumpy night. Literally.

So, now I have heard everything…but this ditty takes the cake. My inside source in Albany said that New York Governor David Paterson is embroiled in a controversy that will make you chapp dein kop (hold your head in Yiddish). The New York Times is working on the story, which is said to break momentarily. Apparently, the apple didn’t fall far from the Elliot Spitzer tree and there is a rumor that the Governor used public funds to cop drugs (blow) and hookers (blow). Can you stand it? Blow squared? I would like to think this is not true…but since people are so stupid…why wouldn’t it be true? No doubt Governor Paterson will have to step down, leaving the impending race wide open for Andrew Cuomo. Uch, it also means that we will have to listen to endless amounts of trash talking about another boring black guy…hello Tiger Woods. I wonder who the cheesy hooker (a.k.a. Loredana Jolie equivalent) to this story with be. Stay tuned.

Tiger and Elin…Happy At Last…ish

Forgivenall...when you need to shake off the glommy.

After what was surely the greatest media story on Earth, second to the death of Michael Jackson, The Tiger Woods Affair…rather….affairs, took an unexpected turn when Elin, the long suffering golf club aficionado, reunited with her overly poontanged husband, Tiger. In the midst of that media flurry, when the public was introduced to 13 of the skankiest bitches on the planet, Elin hired an attorney and the prospect of 350 million dollars was surly the best reason to leave her philandering, sex addict of a husband for Sweden’s lake shores. But, the holidays came and went and Elin must have had a change of heart. Why else would she be willing to schlep to Mississippi, land of the non-sex addicts, I guess, to work through the addiction issues with her Tiger. She can never not think about the Gross Baboon of the Year, Loredana Jolie (no relation to Angelina), every time Tiger tries touching her. Lord knows, I am even cringing from the thought of Tiger’s you-know-what after I heard from my source about all the various orifii that Rachel Uchitel, the celebrity / socialite (tee hee) had to submit too while on some lush holiday with the world’s best athlete? And (B) How did a golfer get that title?