Our favorite travelin' Hooters Girl could have used some advice from Stacy London & Clinton Kelly.  However, most of the time, when watching TLC's "What Not To Wear", I am cringing and covering my eyes, while peeking out between my fingers, out of sheer embarrassment for the verbal fashion-whipping the poor, only-semi-willing participant, is receiving. 

 

 

I understand, it makes for good TV when the hosts are snarky, but I feel like the British duo (Trinny & Susannah) of the BBC America version, have really mastered the gentle wardrobe rebuke, while their brash American counterparts could use a little sensitivity training.

Stacy London is inifinitely more appealing on my new favorite show, "Fashion Fanatic" (TLC, check your local listings).  I stumbled across this show while avoiding my myriad to-do's knitting sweaters for Chinese orphans, in front of the television this past weekend.

Stacy was absolutely in her element:  guiding us through Parisian shoe boutiques, while chit-chatting with Christian Louboutin, or touring the Ferragamo workshop, repeating the three Italian words she knows to the non-English speaking cobbler.  She was as excited about the all the shoe-i-ness as I was (it's a word), and her obvious love and enthusiasm for fashion made the show that much more fun to watch.  I didn't cringe once.

Okay, maybe once, when Stacy paid a visit to some sort of cosmetic podiatrist (not sure if that is an actual profession), and the doctor injected something, like restalyn or botox or Pamela Anderson, into the balls of Stacy's feet - supposedly to alleviate stiletto pain.  Yikes!  Just pick up some Dr. Scholl's gel inserts!  Much less prickly and invasive!

Just like Stacy's new show. 

 Are you wearing something you shouldn't?

Nevermind the actual awards.  Am I going to have a red carpet extravaganza to look forward to?    Will there be a kaliedescopic parade of couture gowns sashaying into my living room anytime soon? (If you wear the 3D glasses, it really does seem as if they are walking into your living room).

The pre-awards show fashion circus is the real reason I watch the shows, and I'm preemptively depressed at the thought that there may not be a circus this year. 

How are the weekly magazines supposed to cope, without being able to post the comparative color-palette photo montage? 

 Are we going to miss another potentially stunning entrance like this?

 Where else am I supposed to get my Helen Mirren-fix? (LOVE her)

There won't be any photos of Jennifer Lopez with a fab hairdo, that I can spend hours in front of the mirror, knee deep in bobby pins and hairspray, attempting to duplicate.

 And Evangeline Lilly is typically the sole motivating factor in getting me on the treadmill.

 Although, to be honest, if I never see another stiff, tension-filled photo of this pair, I'd be okay.

 The Golden Globes are supposed to be fun!  Festive, shiny and happy!  And broadcast, for my viewing pleasure.

(Ed note: will continue to blame production studios, for not complying with writers' demands.  No Golden Globes AND still no new episodes of "The Office"?  You're killing me.)

In the wake of the writers' strike, several "reality" shows have sprung up to fill the entertainment void.  "Reality" tv is embarrassingly good fun, and has quickly become my Achilles' heel. 

I adore people-watching.  Who cares if the people are spouting slightly-scripted dialogue, and occasionally have to recreate situations for the camera?

I'm not here to judge.

Although I am enthusiastically volunteering to judge on "Make Me A Supermodel" (Bravo, check your local listings), with 90s supermodels Nikki Taylor, and Tyson Beckford hosting.

 

When I first saw the ads for this show, I rolled my eyes so hard my contacts flipped out of my eyes and shot across the room.

"Urf, and puh-leeeeez, pfft".  I wasn't feeling entirely articulate that day, but the sounds did acurately describe my initial reaction .

I had watched a few episodes of "America's Most Smartest Model", a completely different-but-really-the-same model-themed "reality" show, which was pretty bland, and there were a few contestants that had no business posing for anything other than a driver's license photo.

(Where did I put that scratching post?) 

If I wanted to watch unattractive, awkward people interacting, I would climb in my time-machine and go back to Miss Marchesi's 7th grade gym class, when we were doing our Square Dancing unit.  Yikes.

My verdict is still out on "Make Me A Supermodel", other than my observation that a few of the contestants are slightly delicious,

 

 

 

and I think it's perfectly okay to just absorb their outer-gorgeousness for a half hour or so. 

Or 4 hours.  Bravo might air a marathon this weekend. 

 

It looks like Sex & The City:

Four women, New York City, fantastically chic outfits, coffee shop meetings, 

It sounds like Sex & The City:

Plinky-plonky background music, and quick-paced dialogue, peppered with sassy quips.

But it is no Sex & The City. 

There are several child-characters, who have far too much dialogue for my liking. The two married-people storylines smack of warmed-over Melrose Place, and Melrose Place should really only be served hot.  And I watched the entire episode, without ever knowing what the characters' names were.  This may, or may not, be my own fault.  The Carrie-one, the Miranda-one, and the Charlotte-one were not appealing enough for me to care what was happening in their lives.  I usually love Lucy Liu, though, and will be patient until she grows into the role (she's the Carrie-one).

I think the reason I don't like them, is that, so far, they appear to be flawless, and invulnerable. 

I want the Carrie-wiping-out-on-the-catwalk.

I want the Miranda-getting-bombed-to-cope-with-her-uber-hot-date.

I want the Charlotte-yelling-about-wrapping-a-stapler-in-a-brown-paper-bag-and-smearing-poo-on-it-for-a-shower-gift.

Those are characters I love. 

I do enjoy the Samantha-one, though.  Bonnie Sommerville is great.  Every other character I've seen her play has been a Pollyanna-ish, squeaky-clean, pink-cardigan-wearing Junior-Leaguer (no offense to Pollyanna, squeaky-clean people, people who wear pink cardigans, or Junior Leagers).  She's edgier in this; kind of goofy, and funny to watch.

Cashmere Mafia hasn't been whacked yet, so I will probably watch it, if it sneaks up on me while I'm trying to pretend I'm keeping up with the election coverage. 

 

The Girls Next Door is a First Rate Guilty Pleasure for me.  And should be for you, as well.  I mean, if you are watching it.  You can't file this under "thought-provoking", or "culturally enlightening", but it is loads of fun. 

Despite all the bleached-blonde hair, silicone, and ridiculous, incessant giggling, I find myself truly liking these Girls. 

Holly, Bridget and Kendra have given actual personalities to the Playboy stereotype, and really make you think twice about basing your opinions on people's exteriors.  Which I love to do, as it saves me the time of having to get to know someone, but that is, possibly, not the best way to do it.  Possibly.

Holly is the Type-A, determined, wife-minded one, who I think is actually the only real girlfriend out of the three.  Girlfriend, granddaughter.  Potato, potahto.

Bridget is the bubbly, giggly one, who happens to have her Master's degree in Psychology.  She is also the only one with real breasts, and is rumored to be married-but-separated from a previous boyfriend.  I can't decide which is more surprising.

Kendra is the youngest one, and reminds you of your annoying-yet-oddly-charming 14-yr old brother,

in a bombshell body.  When you watch her interview vignettes, you can't help laughing at/with her, and thinking she is a bit of a spaz.  And then you see her in photographs, and you can't believe how gorgeous she is.

You sort of wonder if Hugh Hefner hasn't created an extremely deluxe halfway house for wayward blondes.  Kendra has said, on one occasion, that he saved her life.  The interaction between the four of them is so much like a bizarre, blonde, Swedish-bikini-team family, and the girls obviously feel very safe and cared for at the mansion.  I wish someone would "care for" me by gifting me a brand new Porsche Carerra, like Bridget's.  Although, much like the mansion zoo animals, rumor has it the girls are kept on a fairly short leash.

There have been a few episodes, where the Girls were given a weekend pass to go to Las Vegas, or to their hometowns.  And in the most recent episode, the girls dragged Grandpa to Monte Carlo. 

FINALLY!  Sheesh.  All that money, and no traveling?  I was about to have one of my spells.

The Girls proceeded to leave the bunny stamp on the chic principality.  While Hef took frequent naps, and Metamucil, and gazed out the window of their suite, the girls did some parasailing.  Bridget and Kendra were briefly arrested, when trying to casually call on Prince Albert one evening, unannounced.  And there was plenty of flashing, courtesy, of course, of Kendra.

They did, eventually, have the chance to meet the Prince, during a celebrity event, and Kendra, never one to mince words, pointed out that her the best thing about meeting him was that he kept looking at her boobs.  And then she let out one of those barking/wheezing laughs, and said "We're going to Australia next!"

We're not here to judge, and every girl deserves to have a vacation she enjoys. 

These Girls totally get the Girlfriend Getaway idea.  But next time, we'd recommend leaving Hef at home.

We are entering wedding season, and Holiday Golightly is heavily focused on all-things-bachelorette: getaways, parties, gifts, etc. But today we'd really like to focus on the most important Bachelorette: Deanna Pappas.

"The Bachelorette" shows are infinitely more entertaining and funny than "The Bachelor". We like to see a girlfriend dating 25 guys and taking her time to figure out which one she likes the best. Deanna is now down to 6 guys, and we'd like to help her make some decisions.

The six (photos courtesy of ABC - watch the show, Monday nights, check your local listings and all that):

Graham

Graham's body is POW, and he is an undeniably sexy dude. He is very easy-going, but has total commitment issues, and was a little manipulative in the last episode. He keeps talking about how it bothers him that she's dating other guys. This is not a new show. He knew what he was getting into. Smokin' bod + gun-shy + manipulative = Back away from the sexiness. Slowly.

 

Jason

Adorable, doting single dad. Also with hot body. Kind of shy, seems like a good listener. What's not to like? We haven't figured that out yet, so play on, Jason.

 

Jeremy

It is my unofficial opinion that Deanna has already decided that Jeremy is IT, and that she'll just go along with the rest of the show to fulfill the contract. Again, totally unofficial opinion.

 

Jesse

Fun-loving, sweet, professional snowboarder. I don't see any chemistry between them, but he wears a lot of quirky outfits, and seems fun to have around the house.

 

Sean

Sean is cute, but also pretty intense. He's a martial arts expert from Kentucky, and seems like he's grasping at commonalities with Deanna to stay in the game. He just about wet himself when he found out she had lived in Kentucky: "SEE? man, I knew we had a lot in common!" Erm, yes, you and 3 million other people.

 

Twilley

No idea why he's still here. Deanna treats Twilley the way you would treat a kid you were babysitting. I'm waiting for them to have a one-on-one date, where she brings him a sack lunch with a juicebox.

Okay, so we know the filming has already ended, so Deanna will be unable to take any of our sage advice.

Advice? What advice?

Exactly. We are confident that Deanna has made the best decision for her, and we wish her the best. Deanna, please give us a call to plan your bachelorette getaway, and give Jeremy our best!