These here are called mantyhose. Though manty hose is more like it. But more than anything else, does Time Magazine think men will dare wear these? Women hate wearing panty hose, from what I know.

Please note: This Entry First Appeared July 12, 2009

Who’d have thunk that when I MEAN…WHAT?!? coined the phrase Manzie Report, and pointed out the horrendousness of some of the things that everyone’s favorite Manzie is wearing, that lo and behold, Time Magazine, yes, that magazine that puts Barack Obama or Hillary Clinton or Sarah Palin on the cover, has an entry about Mancessories. So, now that the Manzie has been adulated by the general media, I am thrilled to say my prescient observation of this uncanny trend has now been substantiated and I am officially anointing Time Magazine with a special Manzie Award for Best Periodical.

For those of you who need a refresher course on the Manzie Report, please check these links: Rounding Out the Milan Manzie Spring ’10 Shows or The Manzie Report – I Love Paris – Spring ’10

Mandals are nothing new to the I MEAN...WHAT?!? Manzie Report. Time Magazine is so last week.

Manpris are bad when you buy them as manpris. This length is only acceptable when you take a pair of sweatpants or army fatigues and cut them down to this length, keeping the rough edge so it's clear that you cut your pants. Many times these manpris look extremely lame and fussy, especially when worn by straight men who attend sports games. And fathers should never ever buy manpris...they are all wrong.

Adam Lambert did for manscara that which The New York Dolls and David Bowie only wish they could have in their day. Let's face it, there is nothing like a smokey eye for men, women or children for that matter. You go, girl.

Talk about behind the curve, the man purse is soooo over. You know when it makes it to a Hollywood blockbuster and Time for that matter, it is ovah. NOTE: Men with bellies should avoid carrying a manpurse as it accentuates the blubber, as shown here.

This here is a Spanx for men called a Singlet. Don't tell anyone, but I ordered one. Shhhh.

I Mean…What?!?

The happy couple.

Congratulations Michael Kors and his soon be be spouse, Lance LePere. Lord knows I wish all gays happily ever after my hope is that gay marriage statistics kicks straight marriage in the ass. This year, up to 50% of straight marriages will end in divorce. So gays? Listen up. Stay put.

Otherwise, this is my feeling of gay marriage now that it is official in New York. Look, if Iowa can get the gay marriage thing together, so, indeed, should every state in the union. And that includes Minnesota, where Michelle and Marcus Bachmann have proven that gay weddings do not have to be exclusively between two gay people. Anyhooo, I am not an opponent or a proponent of marriage, gay or otherwise. At the risk of sounding beyond jaded and grumpy, the Marriage Act, seems to be just that. Monogamy is a challenging notion that defies gravity: what is forbidden becomes obsession. Hey, I survived an eleven year relationship. Sure, there are those lovely exceptions; couples that are perfect for each other. I have seen that maybe twice. Other than that, one hears all too often:

“Relationships are tough, I feel trapped.”
“What an asshole.”
“Not tonight, I’m not in the mood.”

Notice the dagger and ax? Good luck with that.

I went to my first gay wedding in California in 1999. It was a gorgeous affair in Montecito (where Oprah now has a house) attended by the couple’s 100 “closest friends” in a grand, Spanish-style mansion built in the 1920′s. We all stood in a large circle on the sprawling grounds as the happy couple went around in the circle, “honoring” each and every one of us for sharing in this momentous occasion.  I attended my first gay divorce–yes, the aforementioned couple’s–six months later to the day. Same house, less lavish affair. Actually, turns out that one of the boys was a gold digger, and when he found out there was more smoke and mirrors than cash, off he went. I knew then that gay marriage was going to be a challenge like many straight marriages are. Except for those rare exceptions like Ellen and Portia or Elton and David. You’ve gotta love gay people for wanting to throw their hat in the wedding ring–as opposed to the towel–whatever the consequences. Sure the economy sucks, but standing up for freedom of choice will always rule. It  is what makes any country great. Ask the Swedes.

I Mean…What?!?

On several occasions I have featured The Nobody News and The Party’s Over, with stories and pictures of people you’d never want to meet. Kind of like Guest of a Guest or Hamptons Online only I was not serious. The people that those media (?) outlets feature on their party pages give new meaning to “the rags”. (I don’t care what their traffic is.) They actually legitimize the tabloids. I mean…seriously…reportage from a hagfest? Not only have we sunk to a new low on celebrity coverage, but now we have created an industry featuring people that you didn’t like in high school that are now all grown up and positioned as “notables”. It was around these reports that the word “brech” (Yiddish for vomit) became the “it” word for IMW. Boy, would I love to go back to the days of Hedda Hopper and Louella Parsons. When gossip was limited to those two reporters and everyone else’s information was taken with a grain of salt. Please…take me back to the days when the “Society Pages” were a few juicy paragraphs and photos of the “Real Elite” NOT the “Real Housewives of Suburbia”. The (ahem) current society pages feature shopkeepers of fabric stores and anorexic Barbie dolls. If you have ever read IMW, you’d know that I often say: “The end of the world is nigh”. By now, I am sure we can all agree, that the end of the stylish world in nigh. Herewith is my summer wrap up that proves my point.

Surely the Nobody News is nothing without a Kate Gosselin update. She was actually offered to do Playboy by Hugh Hefner. Now, tell me whatever you want. But he has lost it...integrity, that is...and she is still beyond annoying.

And here we bookend the brech fest with an update from this gross baboon, who was trash talking Kate. As I have said earlier...can we change the name of that TV show from "Jon and Kate Plus 8" to "EIGHT IS ENOUGH ALREADY!" And that title can easily apply to the upcoming reality show on the Octomom...la nut-bag extraordinaire.

Here are a few pix of people from the recent Ferrari Hamptons Rally. This is Farrah Field. Can we just say Far Afield?

From being dumped on Tyra's Americas Next Top Model to this hagfest? Oy vey, Nole.

Talk about opposites attract. Here we have Chef Robert Hesse and "fitnes guru" John Basedow. Now, far be it from me to be evil...but...yikes. A) The chef and the Ferrari...not a match...and the fitness guru...needs to eat something. This image says so much, yet so little.

Joy Marks is my new favorite "gal about town". She is swathed in gowns for every occasion, no matter what time of day. You have to love love love this level of self involvement. Fotz.

What is a Hamptons soiree (a.k.a. hagfest) without this quiniella in tow? Bravo, the Real Housewives of New York City for achieving this level of the Emperor's New Clothes.

It's nice to see Kathy Hilton (left) cracked off the obscurity ice, shown here with her Juvederm buddy, Cheeky Anderson.

The tagline says it all. The plus one of a plus one. Ouch!

See what I'm sayin'...with all due respect.

Yoo hoo...over here....such amateurs. Yikes.

I Mean…What?!?

I do love that T-shirt...fyi.

Here’s what’s missing from the Fashion’s Night Out PSA…PEOPLE…real people! People like the people that are being courted to come out in droves to spend, spend, spend. Now, if you wanted to engage people like me, with expendable income, discerning taste and a huge supporter of the fashion industry, then you might not have shoved the obvious “celebrities” or rather “fashion celebrities”, in our faces. All those people damn well want you to come out and shop…they are white knuckling through this economic retail crisis. A better, more sophisticated idea would have been use The Sartorialist as a model for the subjects in the PSA. Really hip people that are the consumers, who are invited to come out with their wallets for a non-sale retail extravaganza. It would have been better and hipper if Anna and Sarah Jessica Parker were the only recognizable faces…maybe a model or two. But to completely negate the people that have style from this PSA…was…well…a bit out of touch with what’s happening in the streets….those streets you want filled. And that script. Yikes. Hey, as you know, I respect Anna Wintour and I think Fashion’s Night Out has great potential. But if what P Diddy says, “It’s for the people, baby,” wants to ring true…then the fashion people who are asking the people people to come out and shop need a revised mind set of what is a fun shopping experience. Having fun shopping should not be relegated to a once a year happening. Retail sales people in New York City should go to Los Angeles and take a lesson in smiling. Most of the time you walk into these stores and you get the same glib look as you would when you walk into an art gallery in West Chelsea…and boy, are those people insufferable. So, next year for your Fashion’s Night Out ad campaign…use the people, who are the luckiest people in the world…those that will be still out there shopping.

I Mean…What?!?

Well shut my mouth Munsingwear. Move over Posh and Becks with your Armani ad campaign...now this is hot.

Don’t ask me why I am doing this entry about vintage advertising. Really? You want to know? Here’s the train of thought. I received an email about a new underwear company that ties in each purchase of underwear to a charitable organization. I know, doesn’t socially conscious underwear sound tragic? It does to me. Sure, I like helping whenever I can, but my underwear is not going to support anything but what it is designed for, if you get my drift. So, I started googling around underwear world and came upon a few vintage ads for underwear. Since we now have Posh and Becks slithering about in two inches of fabric, I wanted to see the tone of advertising for under things from days gone by.

Here's a natural pose nestled against a tiger skin wall hanging.

Read more and

And this is all sorts of genius because the directive was, "Look over there at the...whatever."

It's not clear if this photo from 1908 was from advertising or early porn.

I couldn't resist throwing in some vintage men's ready-to-wear ads due to the absolute brilliance and hilariousness.

I don't care what The New York Times Style section says about the 80's being back...these 80's style will never see the light of day.

This is just beyond beyond.

Nothing was more genius than when J.C. Penney got into the pimp business. Nothing. And in truth...this is the birth of the Manzie.

This one is pretty fantastic too.

I Mean…What?!?

These two central casting Hippies are wearing over a grand worth of clothes between them. Excuse me, can you remove your label so I can see right through you?

After my heartfelt Woodstock moment yesterday, I am breching (vomit in Yiddish) from the lead story in Women’s Wear Daily, Woodstock at 40: Fields of Fashion. First of all, the writer Sarah Haight (no doubt hired for the whole Haight-Ashbury coincidence) has very little to say about the cultural, societal phenomenon; rather, she is quick to hone in on the “unfolding of the hippie chic look”…which correct me if I am wrong…is an oxymoron. The Hippie movement rose and fell as a rebellion against the stats quo…if not, status in general. Thankfully, Valerie Steele, chief curator F.I.T., points this out. The dynamic youth movement of the 1960′s, with their collective voice, may never be heard again, in our easily placated society. It was about anti-conformity, which proved to be a watershed moment in the 20th century. We helped to end the Vietnam War, damn it. We were doing anything not to look like our parents. Now, our youth culture (also an oxymoron) is the complete opposite scenario, case in point, the little prepsters on NYC Prep (talk about breching). As long as they can wear designer clothes, all is well in their little Glocca Morra.

Hello, Central Casting? I need a few "Hippie types" for a fashion shoot. Fotz.

Take a look at the images from this story. Would you say “inspired by” or simply “bad knock off”. These look like stills from a bad, made-for-television movie. No Hippie chick would ever know about a Douglas Hannant, or dare shop at What Goes Around Comes Around, where $400 concert T-shirts are sold. Every time a designer does something Hippie-inflected, they should think twice about the gall of their price point, which is an insult to the movement, rather than an homage to its Hippie chic-ness. Call me a kvetch, but the purity of the Hippie movement, and Woodstock, and the Summer of Love has less to do with style, and much more to do with anti-style. Just so happens that anti-style was ten times more fabulous than the conservative look that still pervades our culture.

The real corn in this photo is the outfit. If you saw this girl walking down the street, you would roll your eyes. Period.

FYI...This is Woodstock, my chocolate Chihuahua.

I Mean…What?!?

All in favor of seeing this movie say, AY.

There aren’t many films that get me all goosebumps and giggly like the upcoming The September Issue has. You won’t see me camped out at the Ziegfled waiting to buy Harry Potter nonsense. Truth be told, I have not seen any of those films. Can’t figure out why, just ‘cuz. Nor was I highly anticipating Twilight or Transformers: Revenge of the Whatever, and you can relax about Ironman. Yeah, I’ll see it, but can we discuss the Anna Wintour movie for a second? Obsessed. I’ve seen the trailer umpteen times. Haven’t you? Actually, a friend of mine who has been going through a traumatic family health issue was able to stop thinking about the horrific news she’d received from the doctor when I played the trailer for The September Issue over and over again. It was cathartic for her and I want Anna to know that sheer joy was a direct result of the preview alone. So, whatever Cathy Horyn has to say today in The New York Times Style Section about the state of the magazine business, the shift in Vogue‘s revenue, the decline of ad sales worldwide, the over-spending on shoots, etc. that this three-minute short brought a smile to my sad friend. This makes the film a huge success for reasons that no one was banking on. The looks, the glares, the glances, the comments, the eye rolling, the silence, the flitting about by staffers, Candy Pratts Price saying “September is the January of fashion”…I mean…come on…who does not want to see this movie?

There is a great point in The Times article about the overspending on shoots…and the excess. Ms. Horyn points out that the European magazines have more stringent budgets whereas in the United Stats, $5,000 just for food on the set is commonplace. This whole princess mollycoddling for what are in essence support staff is mind boggling. The notion of waste is soooo two seasons ago. If the industry, not just Anna & Co., can’t revisit their spending, well, this year 37% reduction in revenue, next season…what?!? Snap out of it, y’all. Getting a grip is a good thing. And stop whining, ’cause you’ll be more than whining when things gets worse. Help things get better.

Back to The September Issue. Good for Anna. This movie will best tell her story as opposed to Devil Wears Prada. Anna is smart as a whip and the upcoming global shopping initiative Fashion’s Night Out is probably the best ad campaign for both September issues, movie and magazine. So, say what you want about Miss Thing, but she is 500 Snaps Up.

I Mean…What?!?

"Fashion your seat belts, there's gonna be some bumpy nights!'

Manzies and pansies and bears…oh my! New York Fashion Week will never be the same…for several reasons. First off, being a total optimist and in a response to the recent CFDA meeting, I am confident that there will be a shift in tone at the tents as well as at the off-site activities. No, we will never be free of annoying fashionistas, whose moment of fame starts and ends around the shows (listen up PR Girls), but I’m feeling that the intention of the industry is to act as if we are moving through this unusually hard time and that there is much to crow about. That, coupled with the fact we have had just about enough of the nay-sayers and doom-and-gloomers to last a lifetime (listen up WWD News Alert). Note: The recent Spring 1 Children’s Club (trade show) was extremely well traveled and the business was brisk.

Kiddies, New York is gonna rock during Fashion Week.

In other news, I Mean…What?!? will be on hand at Mercedes Benz Fashion Week, as well as MAC and Milk off-site events to kick-off several new segments, such as What Dya Think? where your opinion matters. Sure, I love, love, love hearing Cathy Horyn‘s soothing voice recap the week of shows for The New York Times, and Laird Borrelli-Persson‘s honest, reference-based approach to what she sees for style.com, but most reviewers tend to be so politically correct, that you could plotz from the sweetness and light. And trust, I do not want to be a non-stop bitch, I love the fashion industry to much to bastardize it…and Lord knows, y’all don’t need my help with that since y’all did just fine screwing things up before I Mean…What?!? entered the digital vernacular. My goal is to talk to other attendees, buyers, stylists…a bit more of a Democratic point-of-view. And if you say, “Who cares what those people think?”, then, don’t look now, but you are one of the reasons that we are in this mess. That attitude is soooo last season.

The Mac and Milk addition to New York Fashion Week is sure to add an exciting new dimension. It's gonna be exciting. Uptown, downtown, fashion will be everywhere.

I Mean…What?!? will also feature show coverage, Skype Special Guests, interactive Letters to the Editor, Do’s and Don’ts and After Party Round-Ups. Look, did I say I am changing the world? No. Will there be giggles galore come fall? Yes. If you have any things you’d like to share while we tinker with our fall re-launch…please feel free to

I Mean…What?!?

J C Penney shoe display. Can you just brech (vomit in Yiddish).

You can do all the upscale advertising you want. So, whether you are Target, K-Mart or JCPenney, get over yourselves right now, because smoke and mirrors is not going to replace better merchandise. Ever. Sure, these limited edition designer duds gets tons of attention and brings in a sought-after audience, but once that limited edition sells out, what’s left in-store is the crap that makes up for most of the merchandise in these mass marketers. So, Jean Claude Penney is coming to New York City? Big whoop. Penney has been trying for years to up its ante through free association by building in malls that house better department stores, such as in the Garden State Plaza, just next to Nordstroms.  You can instantly feel the down-market-ness of JCPenney the second you walk into the store. Hey, I’m not being a bitch. It is the truth. Lighting, signage, fotz. In every nuance of the retail presentation, you just know that you are not in Kansas (Nordstroms) anymore. Don’t hate me for seeing through your not-quite-up-to-snuff retail display design. New York does not need more crap. If anything, we need to start editing the crap that is here…and while we are at it, include plenty of people in that process as well…namely Jon Gosselin and his sad, star-hungry girlfriends. Brech.

Speaking of brech, how's this for a K-Mart special.

I walked into K-Mart recently looking for a vacuum cleaner, was shepherded through the women’s clothing section and gasped at the sheer volume of horrendous, dizzying-printed, two-piece sets in colors that make sherbet seem monochromatic. Literally, I could not breathe and ran from the store gasping for air.

This chick was cooing about her fab T-shirt from Target. I mean...pyech.

And though we love our Target runs, mine in Edgewater, New Jeresey when visiting my sisters, all I can ever buy there is large-size laundry detergent, tubs of moist towlettes and white, Fieldcrest towels. Get the picture? Proving that Target is better in theory. Sure, I paw through the “designer” sections and have purchased a Mossimo this or that over the years, only to wear them once and realize the fabric was beyond crap, coming to the conclusion, “You get what you pay for.”

I Mean…What?!?

Can we all agree that this guy looks like a beatnik. That scowl alone says, "I have no money but I read a mean poem". This is from an article called Ska Face...a.k.a. scowl cause I have no money face.

Anyone who knows me from childhood will tell you that I developed my own language, mostly words and expressions to describe things, people or activities that I found somewhat nonsensical. Now, I just say I Mean…Whaaaaat?!?! a lot, which captures the essence. One word is “okeedeer”. This is really just “OK, there”, but with a sardonic twist. Here’s a for instance. Say, The New York Times Style features a fashion spread of men’s clothing, shown on a heavily tattooed model, who looks like a wanna-be beatnik. We know he is a wanna-be, because he is in fact a model, rather than a beatnik. You see, a beatnik would sooner be caught dead rather than sporting thousands of dollars of clothing for some establishment schmuck’s entertainment. Anyhoo, the editorial spread features the wanna-be beatnik clad in Riccardo Tisci leggings, a hip-length, Jil Sander bumble bee blazer-let, a long, shiny, plunging neckline T-shirt, which for our purposes we’ll call a mini-dress, total value of the ensemble with shoes is more than two grand ($2,000). Now, repeat after me….OKEEDEER.

This guy is not going to go out and spend 2 G's on this outfit. Rather, he will be take the $48 bucks in his pocket and try to score some smack.

As for “moodi-ava”, well, that’s phonetic for “might ever”, as in “I might ever”, or “he might ever”, or “you might ever”. Here’s another example. Say in that same editorial shoot, that wanna-be beatnik is now wearing a Comme des Garcons blazer worn inside out, the same Tisci leggings, a different shiny T-shirt (a.k.a. dress), more of a Holly Golightly, knee-length. Oh, and yes, that simple white T-shirt under the dress is by Prada, and is a mere $165. Are you ready? Say it with me. MOODI-AVA. As in “I moodi-ava buy any of that” or “You moodi-ava buy any of that” and especially “He moodi-ava buy any of that”.

This editorial spread from last month, will forever stick in my craw.

End note: Featured in The New York Times T Style Design issue, this photo from a story about Philippe Starck. It’s nice to see that someone on Earth actually buys the stuff that ends up on the I Mean…What?!? Manzie Report. This outfit could easily be a Berhard Willhelm. That or some tribal nonsesne he picked up along the way of his many travels to the nether regions. Well, I was almost right, read the caption.

Philippe Starck in one of his 15 custom Agnès B. Suits made from African fabric. ‘‘The trick is never to have the jacket and pants match,’’ he said. Really? Is that the trick? And I thought the trick is to look the best you can.

For reference…here’s a Berhard Willhelm image from Spring ’10 Manzie Report.

See what I mean? Tribal fotz.

I Mean…What?!?