What these two Adderall addicts need is a swift kick.

Lindsay Lohan and Brooke Mueller are together at the Betty Ford Clinic. Birds of a feather. Two of the tackiest hags that have relentlessly bitten the hands that feed them are sequestered in Rancho Mirage and Lord knows would it be fun to be a fly on the wall for a few minutes. Longer than that would be painful. Lindsay has threatened to escape the court ordered rehab due to the fact that the doctors @BettyFordCenter are not letting her do drugs. “No Adderall for you!” With @LindsayLohan stealing all of the celebrity thunder from wanna-be @BrookeMueller, one can imagine the following scene:

INT. BETTY FORD CLINIC REC ROOM – AFTERNOON

LINDSAY enters, yawning as though she has just woken up. Brooke is attentively watching the television screen taking notes. LINDSAY observes and grabs the clicker, changes channel.

BROOKE: Hey, I was watching that.
LINDSAY: Taking notes on the Jodi Arias case? That’s pathetic.
BROOKE: She is one smart cookie.
LINDSAY: Smart? Are you dumb? She’s been found guilty in the first degree.
BROOKE: She was smart enough to kill the guy.
LINDSAY: (Screams to attendant) I gotta get out of here. Where is my Adderall. I need my Adderall.
BROOKE: Don’t hold your breath. We’re trapped here.
LINDSAY: I’m a celebrity, I will get what I want.
BROOKE: You self involved piece of shit. Who do you think told Charlie to give you that money to pay Uncle Sam?
LINDSAY: Not you surely. You and your mom would steal the lollypop out of your kids’ mouths for a dollar.
BROOKE: Your mom is out there spinning her bullshit and using you all the way.
LINDSAY: Don’t you dare talk shit about my mother.
BROOKE: Your mother is shit.

CAT FIGHT ENSUES.

I Mean…What?!?

The Endlessness Of Being Unforgiven

Just when John Galliano thought it was safe to go back in the (fashion) water, rather get out from drowning under water, comes The Galliano Conundrum-Par Deux. The Galliano Conundrum started that fateful day two years ago when John was drowning his sorrows in a pub in Le Marais when his barrage of hateful anti-Semitic comments came spewing out of his mouth like Linda Blair in The Exorcist. Galliano looking and sounding like a tragic mess was caught on camera saying shit like “I Love Hitler”, a seminal moment that changed his life on a dime, like a crippling car accident.

The world was not about to let John Galliano off the hook. He was shunned by his peers and immediately terminated from Christian Dior, which is understandable, because you don’t bite the hand that feeds you. My immediate reaction was horror and disdain for his contemptible comments but when I learned that he was under the influence of Ambien, alcohol and stupidity, my opinion shifted. I wrote a piece for The Huffington Post about forgiveness and as a child of Holocaust survivors, I understood that John’s addictions were stronger than his drug induced stupor. John probably would not have remembered his mumblings of a madman had it not been caught on tape.

Cut to two years later, post rehab, when Oscar de la Renta made a grand gesture to invite the master craftsman work alongside the master for his Fall ’13 collection to be shown at New York Fashion Week. It seemed as though the tide had turned for John Galliano. Smartly, John stayed out of the limelight during that time except when the New York Post vindictively posted a picture of John wearing an outfit that the Post deemed as a swipe against Jews because he resembled an Orthodox Jew, which was not even the case. Excuse me, but a black Fedora and a black overcoat does not necessarily a Yid make. Like the New York Post knows the difference between fashion and a faux pas? Don’t get me started. Outside of that one negative PR snafu, Galliano’s turn in New York was heralded as a success and it seemed that all may have been forgiven. Not forgotten surely, but forgiven.

Then Parsons School of Design announced that John Galliano was going to teach a master class called “Show Me Emotion”. The vague title should have been a dead giveaway that what Parson’s wanted to do was mix the art of raw artistic emotion with a dishy opportunity for John to speak about his indiscretion, like some kind of academia version of a Barbara Walters special…tears and all. That was until the outrage from students A.K.A. funders reacted like they had just been slapped in the face. The Dean sent out a letter notifying the student body and the public that they cancelled the mater class saying, “We expected to invite students, faculty and staff to ask Mr. Galliano how his trajectory as a designer was changed by his offensive remarks and to learn from that example.” The vague name of the class coupled with the vague syllabus for the class was what lead to the demise of the Galliano workshop and now what’s next for John?

Today we had a lively panel discussion on HuffPo Live with a great panel of guests featuring fashion editors, stylists, bloggers and educators. Both sides of the aisle were represented in this important conversation and my take away was “Time may heal all wounds, but it might not do shinola for John Galliano’s career.”

Is this a case of political correctness or is John Galliano still too hot a property to handle? There really is no right answer because it is such an emotional issue. But shame on John Galliano’s PR machine to not use the perfect timing after his Oscar de la Renta stint to slip in a couple of apologetic moments through the appropriate media outlets to clear more of the air that lingers around him like the smell of day old fish so John Galliano can finally move on and resurrect his career. The world needs to learn from his brilliance and not stay focused on his foibles.

I Mean…What?!?

Justin Bieber lohaning? Qu’est-ce que c’est lohaning?

From the Abe & Miriam Webster Dictionary of Abeisms:

Lohan (Low–as in life– Han)

1. to reduce (an object or career) to useless fragments, or remains, burning, or dissolving (bridges).
2. injure beyond repair or renewal; demolish; ruin; annihilate (credibility).
3. to put an end to or extinguish (career).
4. to kill or slay (career).
5. to render ineffective or useless; nullify; neutralize; invalidate (your everything).
6. to defeat completely (any and all hopes of a comeback).

Justin Bieber is his own biggest belieber and maybe Amanda Bynes is too.

I Mean…What?!?

Dear Boston,

Words cannot adequately describe how sad and sorry I am for your tremendous loss of life, loss of limbs, loss of innocence, and loss of freedom. What happened at the Boston Marathon finish line is unconscionable and shows us how cowardly these perpetrators are by not claiming responsibility. On the heels of Sandy Hook tragedy and the many senseless acts of violence that are happening daily throughout our “United States”, we are–or at least I am–beginning to feel helpless and really pissed. Serial gross baboons are making us feel so vulnerable and acts of kindness seem to be a thing of the past.

As the war in Congress rages on in support of the right to bear arms–hiding behind the Constitution to support their cause–we will continue to be helpless against crackpots who have “inalienable rights”. The fact remains that violence begets violence. One dastardly act triggers another and until we put our foot and stricter laws down condemning any kind of violent act then we will never revert to a simpler time. Hey, I’ll just settle for a safer time. If these Boston bombers opened fire with legally acquired guns instead of the shit they pulled, would these so called “lawmakers” still be singing the praises of Second Amendment Rights?

Being this upset about how violent our society has gotten is making me grasp at straws to make any point against any kind of violence. I am sick of it all. I am angry at our politicians and their due process. I am sad that innocent people are caught in the crossfire of a world where violence is the accepted norm and in some cases supported by their government. Most of all I am pissed that none of us are safe anymore to stroll along the street without wondering if we are in the wrong place at the wrong time.

What else is there to say besides…

I Mean…What?!?

I Mean…What?!?

Team Anne or Team Justin.

Justin Bieber is embroiled in yet another media flap following his recent visit to the Anne Frank House Museum. The social media furor (no pun intended) that followed his comments written in the guest book has Twitter a twitter with harsh comments and negative criticisms of the nineteen year old mega-superstar. Justin Bieber wrote, “It was truly inspiring to be able to come here. Anne was a great girl. Hopefully she would have been a belieber.” But is that statement really all that insensitive? Let’s break it down.

1. “It was truly inspiring to be able to come here.” The fact that Justin took his precious time away from the Pot Shops and Mushroom Cafes to visit the museum is admirable. Any money bet the majority of this beliebers don’t know who Anne Frank was nor have they been to a museum. His tweeny twinky followers should take note and get their superficial asses to any museum in honor of their demigod.

2.”Anne was a great girl.” The take away from visiting the Anne Frank House would make anyone with a heart say the same thing. We can all use this moment to take a personal inventory and wonder WTF they would in such a horrific situation.

3. “Hopefully she would have been a belieber.” Granted, that statement is totally clueless but what teenager isn’t? This just proves that Justin Bieber is his own biggest belieber.

I Mean…What?!?

Are they wearing vintage Valentino?

Hail Mary. This particular Papal Conclave has so much riding on it, that I am seeing red. And with that, I give you the gals from Heart Truth event that kicks off New York Fashion Week. Any money bet that Diet Coke would love to sponsor the Papal Conclave too. Or maybe we should get Paypal can offer up some merchandising points. Anyhoo. What I want to know is why the Papalettes wear red, does it bring out their eyes?

Who wore it better?

I Mean…What?!?

Well, I guess Charlie Theron hair accessories was a no go.

Ooh…La La..Charlize.
Nothing comes between me and my Therons?

Move over Sasson, Calvin Klein, Mr. Levi and Mr. Strauss ’cause there is a new denim brand on the horizon and Charlize Theron has her hot, little, Oscar-winning, paw prints all over it. Word is that Ms. Theron is planning to launch a denim line in cahoots with her stylist Leslie Fremar, surely to help raise money for her very important AIDS-related charity work in South Africa, though that info was not included in the hot press tip.

So, let me get this straight, with all the many denim companies around, no one wanted to just cut a deal with Charlize and donate proceeds to her charity hence, eliminate another SKU, another ridiculous celebrity fashion bridge line…as in I have a bridge to sell you if you think this nonsense will last. I am an old timer who believes an Academy Award puts someone in a league of their own as opposed to a viable schmatta peddler. But what do I know?

Yes, you too can be photographed wearing Theron Jeans with a Matthew McConaughey shirt accessorized with an I Mean What?!? trucker hat.

I Mean…What?!?

Fashion’s Night Over And Out

FNO - Rest In Peace – Sayonara Shopping Sisters – See You At The Next Market Crash

Fashion Night Out: Here lies a perfectly great idea that came to light at an incredibly upsetting time in our economy and leave it up to the PR & Marketing Gods & Godessess to have taken this brilliant concept that Anna Wintour created for the City of New York and turned it into a cheap cluster-fuck of nonsense and even cheaper thrills. Two years go while walking through the Meatpacking District smack dab into the POP CHIPS activation, I turned to my friend and said, “This event has two years, three tops before it dies on the vine.” And died on the vine it has.

The announcement came as no surprise to me, but websites like Buzzfeed sure had a giggle on the back of what was created to help desperate retailers. Amy Odell wrote a persnickety piece, Nine Reason Fashion’s Night Out Needed To End. Truth is, this is no laughing matter. Our economy is still in the shitter. I don’t care what small percentage of bithces are able to buy The Row alligator bag priced at $35,000, overall things still blow chunks for the masses. And correct me if I am wrong, but wasn’t Fashion’s Night Out designed to be at the core a Democratic idea? Bringing fashion to the people in celebration of the new fall season? What FNO needed to do–which I told the people at Vogue–is have it become a monthly activation with less hoopla and more in-store incentives. Enroll endless media partners and select a different charity each month and give the friggen zillion of needy charities a moment to flourish. But what do I know?

Naturally the uber-marketing hussies worked overtime to booze up consumers while selling shwarma on the streets. Really classy, y’all. These black clad bitches ruined FNO with their not-so-bright, big ideas and are partially responsible for its demise. More celebs, more booze and more celebs, meaning Real Housewives getting paid to appear at a friggen Aldo Shoes store. Am I alone in knowing that this is not a good way to go? Don’t answer that because the truth is too depressing. Where does one go when everywhere you turn has exploded into a cross-marketing-pollination of vomit offering a Sunglass Hut its first five minutes of fame? Either to hell or Los Angeles. So I opted for LA. Venice, actually. Sure there is nonsense here, but at least on Abbot Kinney the chain stores are not welcome…yet.

I Mean…What?!?

Just what you wanted, a Matthew McConaughey shirt.

Matthew McConaughey What? Anyone who is anyone knows that I Mean What has been a voice against celebrity designers. These Johnny Come Lately non Academy Award winning, or Emmy, or Tony, or any any award winners try their hand, rather, they sell their name to a schmatta peddler and take some dosh.
Lindsay Lohan, the slew of Kardashians, heck even Sarah Jessica Parker threw her hat in the ring at Halston, and today the news is that Matthew McConaughey has entered the ring for a bout of utter nonsense. This is more than anyone should bare. And when I say bare, I mean bare assed because hello…he looks better naked! Matthew, bless her, should be selling a fitness regime and excercise wear and even a line of jock straps for his excellent turn in Magic Mike. But this new menswear collection is so bland that reminds us why Matthew McConaughey will never get an Oscar. Not until he cancels this ridiculous attempt at being a celebrity designer.

Don’t believe me? Look at the highlights of this bullshit excuse for a collection.

Does it get more interesting than this Matthew McConaughey original?

No it does not. To say nothing of the fact that this shirt is better purchased at the Melrose Trading Post (Flea Market).

I rest my case.

I Mean…What?!?

“Our clothes are quiet”, says Ms. Yang of Holmes & Yang. Well, nothing says quiet more than something boring that you might find at Ann Taylor Loft, several years back. Shhh or rather Zzzz…

WTF! Has the world gone so topsy turvy that gross is the new black? When I read Cathyn Horyn’s bit in The New York Times about how mundane the first few days of New York Fashion Week were, I had to see for myself since I am lolly gagging in Venice Beach for the winter rinsing off the many prior New York Fashion Weeks for a cleansing moment.

This is a look from Kelly Wearstler. More to the point, this is the worst ler I have even seen. Like stick to interior design and fotz. Every one wants to design fashion or direct.

Upon perusing some of the collections via Women’s Wear Daily, style.com or my inbox from a host of publicists, I was horrified at much of what I saw. Not everything, but enough to say that in a tough retail climate like the one we are mired in, the many Anna Wintour darlings should be damn glad that friggen Targette and Jean Claude Penniey exists, not to mention the softer side of Sears. YIKES!

Continuing my rant about Kelly “The Worst” Wearstler.

Join me won’t you. This is the worst of the Wearstlers.

Whit referenced Marianne Faithfull in her story on this season. And this girl is like the antithesis of Marianne. Actuallly it is more like Marianne half Jewish grand daughter’s frenemy.

Heather Lawton, another new addition to the scene thinks this is what to wear in the snow. Little Red Riding Hood is turning in her grave.

Either that or Little Red Riding Hood has become a bag lady. This is an outfit yanked off a homeless person on the Bowery. Oh wait, the Bowery is now gentrified, make that the Port Authority.

This new designer is called A Detacher. Now if you want my opinion, the only thing that should be detached is that orange dickie. WTF!

Nothing says slenderizing fashion than a fucking cow print complete with yoke. A Detacher seems detached from women looking svelte.

Do you have a headache from this look? I do. Haus Alkire should revisit the hat. and other things…like New York Fashion Week. Clearly there is a market for this look, but not in this part of the hemisphere.

Sorry, but this Gregory Parkinson collection looks like it would be best suited on Mary Todd Lincoln. There is more fabric per square foot in this presentation that attendees.

Creatures of Comfort are taking their name to literally. If I wanted to wear a woobie, I would go with the black blanket that the chick from the homeless shelter was wearing. This fabric looks like the blanket I bought for my dogs Woodstock and Alfie at Ross for Less.

Again, Creatures of Comfort want you to parade about in your night cap (not a shot of booze) and your somewhat stylish-ish pajamas. Rachel Roy did that a couple of seasons ago and Lord knows thank goodness that’s over.

I Mean…What?!?