The lovely Mitria from Fashion Group International sent me some photos from last week’s Rising Star Awards luncheon. Naturally, I struck my trademark pose for my official photo. What Wendy Wore Dress: Vintage Jacques Tiffeau (purchased in 2009) Tights: Random black opaque tights Shoes: Yves Saint Laurent with gold heels (can’t remember when I got…
Fashion
Michelle Obama Believes in the WendyB Motto!
Hallelujah! Michelle Obama has spoken! And she’s politely told the world to fuck off, which makes her my kind of lady. In case you haven’t been keeping up on the tempests in teapots that pass for news these days, Obama wore an Alexander McQueen gown to a state dinner for President Hu Jintao of China…
“Style, Interrupted”: A Tribute to Charles Nolan
Yesterday, our dear friend — the smart, handsome, charming and very talented clothing designer Charles Nolan — died of cancer at age 53. He is survived by his partner of 16 years, the wonderful Andy Tobias, a financial guru and the treasurer of the Democratic National Committee. He is also survived by his father, his…
F@#! Yeah! Let’s Support The (Original) Coveted!
UPDATED FEB. 4, 2011, TO ADD: The situation discussed in this post has been resolved. There was some fundraising going on in this post, but since it’s no longer needed for its original cause, I’ve deleted that material and redirected the charitable donation to a new cause. There’s a terribly unchic situation unfolding in the…
Strike My Pose, There’s Nothing to It! VOGUE!
Earlier this week, I wrote about bitches stealing my trademark crossed-leg pose. Gorgeous blogger of Erin of Work With What You’ve Got commented, “I kind of want to do a tribute pose now, but I’m afraid you’ll rip out my weave!” I was so delighted by the idea of a blogger pose-off that I promised…
Never Is the Next New Thing™: Knickers Update
My “Never Is the Next New Thing™”* fashion theory proposes that the most provocative/grating/startling looks — the ones that make you say, “I would NEVER wear that!” — are the ones most likely to become trends, big or small. We need to be jolted out of our fashion complacency before we move in a new…
WendyB Called. She Wants Her Pose Back.
Once, when my father, GeorgeB, was struggling to take an acceptable outfit photo of me for this blog (“Move! Don’t stand there like a statue!”), I said sadly, “I have only one pose.” “Be thankful,” GeorgeB replied, “Some people don’t even have one.” It was the fashion-blogger version of “I cried because I had no…
Foot Fetish: Vintage Famolare
I’ve developed a strange desire for a pair of 1970s Famolare shoes with wavy, rubber soles. I never had a pair in the ’70s — or even wanted them at that age — but I remember tagging along with my mother while she shopped for shoes. I remember the smell of the rubber Famolare soles….
New York Style Icon: Dianne Brill
Superstar hairstylist Julie Matos of the Riccardo Maggiore Salon and I first bonded over our love of the ’80s club/music/fashion scene. Julie’s ’80s-radar went on full alert last month when, while in a Walgreens, she noticed a statuesque, glammed-up blonde. Julie stalked the blonde all over the store till they ended up in the cashier’s…
Grease Is the Word
Every time I come across Grease on TV, I have to watch it. I enjoy every second of it … the songs, skinny John Travolta, the Pink Ladies, the cigarettes that the bad kids smoke. Back when it was first released (yes, I was alive then), I wanted to be bad-ass like Rizzo (Stockard Channing)…