Paris Awaits Pup

The Clever Pup will be visiting Paris soon. I await her distinct take on la belle Paris sans saccharine sentiment. (She will be solo.) Sibiliance. Susurrant. Silly Sunday. Pfhttt. Thwap. I can barely type. La Pup has already mapped out a few excellent walks.

In other breaking canine news, Benjy the Oracle on AUREA, has been visiting & granting everyone the benefit of his Dachsund Wisdom. He's another pup in Paris at the moment. (His maman is in Los Angeles. Don't ask, just go see.) Herewith, his latest postcard. Also, another amusing & fashionable pup is London's Posetta Baddog, Liberty London Girl's sister's dog. OK, it's funnier than that, see Chien Lunatique.

Yep, I'm goofing off. Oh, & on Giulia Geranium I'm hawking, uh, suggesting a fashion night thingy for charity...but mainly I wanted to re-use a beautiful photograph of an equally beautiful blue YSL coat.

So what are these photographs? Well, they are Paris gowns that are pretty but also funny, sorta fishy looking. (ah ouais). I think I'm so snippy ce soir because I can't watch Mad Men until it downloads in iTunes - tomorrow. Which means I must also avoid a related weakness, Basket of Kisses, the Supreme Mad Men Blog (says moi). It's written/wrangled by two smart, sassy sisters.

[fishy frocks by Louise Dahl-Wolfe via LIFE archives but also on myvintagevogue]

Faiblesses (Part I)

She had all of philosophy, save its moroseness, and all of nature, save its defects and general 'faiblesse'; or if some portion of 'faiblesse' attached to her, it only served to render her more forbearing to the errors of others. Lord Byron

It is too hot for serious industry & so I shall cheer on the Uruguayan World Cup team without worrying about a to-do list that would have 'heatstroke' as the finale. Attention to my switch of affections, Mary-Laure at AUREA, before re-alerting all of South America (via Twitter) of my idiocy & possibly sending a Uruguayan mob my way.

(However. If they look like the team, send them here immediately. I am not the only person to have noticed. "Hey, the Uruguayan World Cup players...is there an additional requirement of hotness, as well as athletic prowess, to make that team?!", said a friend who doesn't give a fig for the game. Hey, I do not know. Hey, I'd like to find out. Listening to a radio program in which a gentlemen precedes nearly every sentence with 'hey.' Why not a random 'olé!' for fun? He'd never be invited again but... Yes, I am easily amused & that can be a good thing when you take the Metro as much as I do.)

These (random) images are more manageable faiblesses (both blogs, of course, indicate my faiblesse-ness over & again.). Provenance is attached to the photograph if available; if you hover over it or click to enlarge, there it is, along with faiblesse title. I will put in more links in direct proportion to the error reports received for this post. (All the links are fine as far as McAfee is concerned; it's my Feedburner account that is a mess. Google Overlords are adamant that we advertise for them. (If that's too geeky for you, do not worry. I barely understand it.)

Hey! Olé!

Week's End - Day at the Beach

This was going to be 'no day at the beach' but these are too cute, though that older one seems a bit bossy. These are not necessarily two sisters as I have older cousins & felt like a little sister quite often. However, the three younger sibsters will fill your ear about my alleged bossiness. Propriety - & a lack of time to write a clever riposte (for now) - prevents me from making my case. (I said, for now, B, E, J....mwahahaha). If they're not good, I'll scan photos on a new-to-me printer/scanner & post them. Let me think on what I shall take in return for not doing so...hmmm.... Nope, can't be bought. Ciao!

[photographs by Nina Leen, LIFE Archives]

Serenity Now

Why Susan! Are you coming to us via the magic of blogger-schedule-draft or have you cancelled plans (again) because of whatever this ennui-angsty thing you are so not rocking? (Do I drop the 'n'?) I'm supposed to be lunching-as-verb with friend & at my beloved Phillips Collection. So I'm here, there's always tomorrow & that is The New Plan. My crazy-neighbor-with-the-secret-meth-lab & shrieking Toto-dog just called me "The Duderina" - hey, my gray robe is a cashmere-wool-cotton blend! (Truthfully, it alerted me to dress-dress because my favorite UPS guy, Roland, should be here today; he worries, Roland does, about me. He does. Minds out of gutter--not that way!)

The only happy camper here is Julie (of course). I have some funny & cool pix to share, but they must be organized. And I thought, wow you should put in a pretty photograph* that isn't ennui-angsty because...finally subtitling the blog (thanks to Diane at Things We Love 2) with a Leonard Cohen line (I can hear the rolling eyeballs), & posting dark photographs of Jerusalem & depressing people about human rights abuses, etc. is so not fair. If you wanted that, you would go over to Julie's blog.

Mille grazie to Michelle Fabio at Bleeding Espresso for being so supportive. I won a book on her Facebook site, go quickly to her page...trying to get 1,000 peeps by the end of the month & she gets more free books. Everyone wins (which, is rather socialist, isn't it?;) Also, lovely & kind Angie Muresan is having a book giveaway for French By Heart. Now, to those photographs & Roland & that shrieking freak (both of them) next door. Come here, my pretty.**

*Trine Thorsen mosaic on Sebastian, via we heart it
**I would never ever hurt a dog! I love (most of) them.

The Museum Goer

Prepare to gag, personnes unfamiliar with Giulia Geranium. That's where I get my twee on. I keep hearing from others who are under-the-weather & beyond. this week. I share your pain; feel better, take good care. I like these photographs & there are some posts over at GG about Phillips Collection love. (For the uninitiated, it's a lovely little museum in DC; its influence is larger than its size. Sort of like The New Yorker's base subscription level. God, I'm a wonk. Shriek.) So the conceit is that I am GG's editor & complete servant. She wants to go to the Phillips & start a salon in the café. If I type more, I'll chicken out. So for those who were subjected to this yesterday, all apologies. (But really--what were you thinking falling for this nonsense, twice?)

************
Tuesday at the Phillips with GG

GG is having a righteous rumpus. Her feline heart is set on becoming a patroness of the arts, particularly at the Phillips Collection. The day may come when we'll have to rent the café & throw her a big party. The Phillips Collection was voted Washington's best museum AND art gallery by City Paper readers recently. Some young'uns--the hordes of mid-20s-30ish folks recently descended upon our city--think they discovered it. Au contraire, nos amis. (Though we're happy to have you on board.)

The Phillips was a hang-out for GG's editor when she was still an official teenager, recently returned from France. "Meet you under the Matisse" meant she could be found sitting on a lumpy bottle-green velvet sofa in the music room (under a Matisse). We'd love to see GG sleeping on that sofa; we miss it terribly--including the lumps. The jewel-box space has become too manicured for our taste; but like an old friend--you still love them, even with (too much) Botox.

Some favorite paintings at the Collection are by Bonnard. Above, The Palm & La Côte d'Azur, respectively. The museum goer (looking just like GG's editor) is by Nina Leen. She's trying to divine from an egg-shaped objet d'art, "What will the Easter Bunny bring GG?"

ciao-meow/GG's art curator & party planner

[Bonnard images via artchive.com & Nina Leen photograph via LIFE archives]

The Little Italian Mouse

Whaddya mean you love Topo Gigio? Socialist!

[Jean Seberg & non-Italian mouse from The Mouse That Roared, here.]

Baby, It's Cold Inside

No, you didn't. Photographs of Bridget Jones & Mooch the Cat as The Dude? Yes, I did. As much as I'd like to indulge a Lara fantasy, this is not Dr. Zhivago. Virtual visits recommence when my fingers unfreeze or I get those fingerless glove thingies. Julie's fur & my hair are slightly blowing in the breeze--inside. ciao

[film stills via imdb & Patrick McDonnell cartoon via San Luis Obispo blog -- ironically enough]

Pool Party

My vintage postcard collection contains several Mainzer cat cards. Here's the website...when I bought them about 20 years ago, I had no idea what they were except that they were hilarious. I laughed out loud when I saw this in My Pictures just now; before I delete it, I'll post it. (These have scalloped edges that don't come out very well in the scans.)

Party Dress

Go, and never darken my towels again. Groucho Marx

I can't help it (about silly Marx business, etc, it's a sickness.) Housekeeping, blog & home.

1) I want to move on from the somberness of the Taj Mahal post & take comments again; 2) this photograph reminds me of someone, ahem, being all dressed up for a fabulous time with real friends (not the air-kiss, embassy kind) & being told once again (by the same guy)...something has come up...somewhere-else-in-the-world-more-important-than-you-will-ever-be. For the 1,000th time This tulle-clad person usually never complained about dashed plans, but will admit to sliding down a wall onto a slightly dirty kitchen floor in a big floofy dress in disappointment.. For about an hour. Not in front of anyone, though. Ever. (OK, two cats.)

and 3) Most Important...

...Jessica aka myvintagevogue has (or will by July's end) closed her flickr account for good. They've given her no end of trouble & I don't know how she stood it as long as she did. Her tumblr blog is in the right sidebar.. I'll add her Blogger site & her website once I get the categories all straightened out. I've been replacing links as time permits from her flickr sets to her website and/or tumblr blog. MEANWHILE, please visit Jessica at the gorgeous myvintagevogue website.

And now, I have spent over an hour looking for the photograph attribution. Because I did not include it in the title when I downloaded it ages ago. Rats. Double rats. I'll find it tomorrow--while I'm waiting for the carpet cleaning fairies to spirit away the hideous-mess-masquerading-as-Persian-rug & return it minus the colonies of criminy-knows-what in the silk/wool. Then I'll become one of those women who make people take off their shoes. I'll just pretend that I'm back, elsewhere...where everyone does that anyway.

Hope your weekends were great.

[Norman Parkinson photograph of Jean Patchett via myvintagevogue]

Pas de chat*

Guess which one I was today? Out & about all over Washington, knocking things over, upending a display at Utrecht Art Supplies. Turning around to catch something & knocking over whatever was on the other side . At the optometrist's I dropped all my bags & picked up my (big) purse the wrong way & dumped everything out onto the floor. In front of a lot of people. I did something at Macy's but I'm blocking it out. Stacks of pajamas or underthings involved. I left a wake of nonsense behind me & thought of Neil Young's Hurricane, & dancing ballerina-hippos.

I did laugh though...trouble is, I don't think anyone could tell I was thinking of a dancing hippo. I just realized it's good I didn't mention it; maybe they would think I claimed to see a dancing hippo. I just might as well go back to my coppery curls.

I shall spend the rest of the evening gracefully balancing a book on my head & channeling Sylvie Guillem. (I would include her link but it's crashed. Ha, her website fell over.) *'step of the cat' - a jump - there's a famous dance of four cygnets in Swan Lake, sixteen pas de chat...show-offs.

ciao

[Lucy at the barre, LIFE archives; lovely ballerina & her swain, Tamara Toumanova & Serge Lifar, Swan Lake, Sydney, 1939-1940 / photographed by Max Dupain/State Library of New South Wales collection which I adore.]

Cleaning House

Literally & virtually. Must publish one post per day on each blog. Discipline.

The more serious thing: I'll probably be off-line as of Friday, a few weeks (I hope not that long). No, it's not a trip to the beach or Rome or Crete or Santorini. You would definitely hear about that. It's serious because of work-I-need-to-do & necessary e-mail, & I love the radio all day but sometimes, you just have to watch Supernanny or Sherlock Holmes Mystery on PBS. And I still can't do that because I remain unsuccessful in fashioning an antenna out of the cat. You know, to bring in the digital-signal.-that-would-change-our-lives. (Julie is willing, I swear. No PETA spamming please. It's a joke.)

Speaking of jokes, I'm furious at Dave L's forced (I'm convinced) apology to "that woman." Yes, I cringed at a few of the jokes....I knew he'd get slammed & I'd like to talk to some of his writer-guys. Still. Get over it. BTW, do people look at their Googley-Analytics? I try to avoid except very occasionally because it creeps me out. But finally I'm going to type it: Wasilla, Alaska . Five straight weeks. Are you kidding me? Well, all residents can't be fans of their former mayor, The Woman Who Made Me Crack My Tooth (via Stress). [better title in the offing]

No comments (yet) such as: "Oh yes! I'm going to re(read) Gatsby, or look at Shirley Hazzard books, get over my unreasonable fear of Naples, or -- this would be my dream come true-- "I performed Molly Bloom's soliloquy in a junior high school talent show & everyone fell faint, except one fabulous (silently applauding) teacher. I had one of those...Ms. Hughes. From Real Ireland. No, I didn't perform the soliloquy...how I wish.

ciao

[Photograph by Yael Joel via LIFE Googley archives, 1953]

Café crème pause...

And this (at top) is exactly how I look when at rest (or sick. yes, I'm still sick). But that doesn't stop me from arguing with crazy Cheney. When will I learn? Don't argue (even pretend-argue) with crazy people. Just keep your eye on'em. Back to working on real stuff...which includes GG & trying to sort out writing project files, clips, locating my own clips. I am a-sea in paper! [Yale Joel for LIFE]

The most satisfying thing I read today online was Hazel-the-Clever-Pup's fantasy journey to Paris (as opposed to her very real trips, which are also enchanting). Tina at the English Muse is musing on creating an international society of girls in tulle (similar to her 'girls in flats' org to which I lightheartedly belong).

Tulle? I think I'm going to have to pass on this one & leave it to the ballerinas & first communionistas; even pretend-wearing of tulle (on me), would be just too awful to contemplate (& too awful for others to see). Nevertheless, I put in a non-tulle-but-still-fluffy-ruffly Parisian couture dress...it reminds me of whipped cream. Why do I put it in? Because I feel so very awful & it cheers me up. I hope I can get back to the Amalfi peninsula tomorrow. [whipped cream dress by Nat Farbman/1951 for LIFE]

buona notte, gattini/gattine

In the pink...

...OK, not really. I feel dreadful. What a bunch of well-meaning liars-with-pants-on-fire: it won't hurt.

So no, not Joan Collins with a pink dog; more like Lucy with an orange cat. This pix cracked me up. It was either this or "aspirin, it's what's for dinner" photo. This was funnier (& pinkier). Upright & outraged., earlier (see GG blog) but must lie down again. I can't even talk on the phone! (Not even the pretend on the phone with...., it's a Method thing...)

Mimph.

[via myvintagevogue/new blog on tumblr is down in right side-bar]

Beirut Balcony Baby

"A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere.” Groucho Marx

I have silly-sickness. And I'll be having a cracked tooth "diagnosed" late today & I'm a-feared. Don't hate me because I've never had a cavity. I had my wisdom teeth out (no cracks!) & that's it. I keep thinking of Marx Brothers lines like.."get your tootsie-frootsie ice-cream..." But instead of ice cream, here are two darling photographs of Merlin. He was born in Beirut (where these were taken years ago) & rescued from street urchins who knew nothing but war. He grew up & ruled a small kingdom in Washington, DC. Clearly, Merlin resembles Groucho. No matter what he looked like, I was vetoed roundly & soundly (except for one dissent) on name choice. Since I was not the guardian, I didn't get to choose. Still, every time someone new was introduced to (the Imperious) Merlin, "Oh he looks like...." No matter their state of origin, gender, religion, creed, etc. I still think that's funny.

[Groucho in a scene from A Night in Casablanca/LIFE archives/Bob Landry/1946]

A case of the vapors...

...oof. Trying to stay upright to watch President Obama tonight. If I feel this under-the-weather (it's not swine flu--don't even think it!)...I'd like look as glamorous as Lucille Ball does here. (LB, 1940s, myvintagevogue). Right now, I look more like Looooocy. (Lucy-as-Chaplin, LIFE archives, Ralph Crane, 1962). buona notte, amici!

On the phone with Suzy...

No, she didn't say that...she did? Well, that's creatively passive-aggressive of her.. .we'll sort this out tonight, OK? Ciao.

It's so very hot & sunny here. My favorite hat is crumbling. I hate to take her out but I'll fry if I don't, supermondosunscreen nothwithstanding. Julie the cat is passed out in front of a fan, paws over her eyes. I wish I had a dress like Suzy Parker's (from myvintagevogue). Actually, I do have one -- it just doesn't fit me (right now). I have to put in the hilarious photo of this Australian lady & her wacky cat (look into his eyes). It's from the New South Wales library archives that have so held my interest.

Hope you're well wherever you happen to be. Some places, friends are going into winter; others are like here. In yet others, it's just hot year-round, with gradations of hellishness. Oh to be in Santorini...mimph (that's a sigh-grumble thing). Here's to a better week than the last. Ciao.

Running on empty

I almost went with another photograph...but I just don't see myself as Milton Berle. (LIFE's archives are diverting, wholesome fun. This is by Yale Joel/1953) Visit Hazel at The Clever Pup, read her cool stuff this week & see if you can figure out The Soapbox this evening. I can't but I still agree with her. She's very sensible; you should agree with her, too (well, I think so). buona notte